#i wanted this one to be more chaotic but it's about the themes and i honestly am ready for day 1 to be over so i can stop withholding info

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 7 Infamous Lover

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6.5k

Chapter 7/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Some things are set into motion in this chapter.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

It was an unusual morning for the two of you. Natasha stood in your kitchen, looking more at ease than you felt. Her mug was half-empty, cradled in her hands, while yours sat untouched on the counter before you, its steam curling upward in lazy spirals. The silence was deafening as you tried to process what Natasha told you. Isabella was still asleep in the other room.

Allowing Natasha to stay over had been a line you weren’t ready to cross, but the look on her face last night—the heartbreak she tried so hard to hide—left you with no choice.

You cared about her more than you could put into words, which made this more complicated. You didn’t want to be angry, but the way she’d shown up, raw and vulnerable, with a piece of her past you didn’t know how to navigate, was testing your patience.

Natasha broke the silence first. “I’m sorry for showing up like that. I just... I didn’t know where else to go.”

"Don't apologize for coming to me," You shook your head. You checked the time on the stove clock. 8 am. Neither of you had gotten much sleep. Isabella would be up soon, but she'd have many questions and comments. To feel like you had a handle on the situation, you began to make breakfast. Something simple. French toast and eggs. "It's just, I don't understand why she would call you, of all people."

"I don't hate her..." Natasha began. Then she stopped. Those weren't the right words. She set her mug down and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s not what you think.”

You paused, spatula hovering over the skillet. Your tone was even when you spoke, and it wasn't as hard as before. "Then explain it to me. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like she still has a hold on you."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “She called me out of nowhere, drunk, stranded... I didn’t want to leave her like that. It sounds stupid, but I felt I had to help.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you said firmly. “She’s not your responsibility anymore, Natasha. You don’t owe her anything.”

“I know,” Natasha replied quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor. “But it’s hard. Carol... she was a big part of my life for a long time. Walking away from that hasn’t been easy.”

You softened at her admission, the frustration in your chest giving way to something more tender. “I get that,” you said after a moment. “But you’ve got to figure out what you want, Nat. You can’t keep one foot in the past and expect the future to wait for you.”

She glanced up, green eyes meeting yours, and you were struck by the vulnerability in them. You weren't sure what else to say, but before you could come up with something, Natasha closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek. You held your breath as she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours.

"I want you," she whispered, her words feathering against your lips. "I'm trying. I don't want to screw this up. I don't want to screw us up."

"Then don't," You muttered. "If this isn't what you want. If there's even a chance you want her, then you need to be upfront with me. If this is just sex for you..."

"It's not," Natasha said firmly, her eyes flashing with something fierce and protective. "It's never been like that. You know that."

"Do I?" You asked. "I'm trying to be levelheaded. You tell me your ex calls, and you go running."

"Not like that," Natasha sighed.

"You went to her," You pointed out.

"Because she was alone, drunk, and in trouble," Natasha shook her head. "I wouldn't have stayed. I just... wanted to make sure she was okay. That's all."

"Did she try to kiss you?"

"What? No," Natasha snorted, shaking her head. "God, no. She was drunk. Really, really drunk."

"So, nothing happened," you asked.

"Nothing," Natasha nodded.

"Okay," You nodded slowly.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," you said, returning to the stove and plating the food you'd made.

Natasha hesitated, then slid her arms around your waist, pressing her front to your back and resting her chin on your shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured. "I promise."

You hummed, leaning into her warmth. The knot in your stomach loosened, but it didn't completely disappear.

"I trust you," You nodded to yourself. It wasn't something you had to convince yourself to believe. She came to you. She told you the truth.

"That's good," Natasha nodded, a relieved smile gracing her face. She kissed the side of your head and then your neck.

"Mm, what are you doing?" You asked.

"Nothing," Natasha smirked.

"That doesn't feel like nothing," you teased, a hint of a smile on your lips.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but a small voice interrupted.

"What are we talking about?" Isabella yawned, shuffling into the kitchen with messy hair and sleep-heavy eyes.

"Nothing," you and Natasha said in unison, the words tumbling too quickly to sound convincing.

"Whatever," Isabella rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, as she climbed onto one of the kitchen stools. Her gaze shifted to Natasha, and she grinned. "Natasha, you're here."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded, taking a small step back from where she'd been standing close to you. She looked unsure, her hand brushing awkwardly against the counter. You understood the hesitation—it was a delicate situation, having her here when things between the three of you were still so new.

But Isabella didn't seem to share your reservations.

"Good," Isabella chirped, swinging her legs under the stool. "I was wondering when Mama would let you come."

Your cheeks flushed. "Bella," you said, trying to keep your tone even.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I like her. You do, too, right?"

Natasha stifled a chuckle, and you shot her a look.

"Natasha's just visiting," you said, redirecting the conversation.

"Sure," Isabella said with a sly grin, clearly not buying it. She turned her attention to Natasha. "Anyway, Mama, could you do my hair today? In a different style? Something that isn't babyish."

"You are a baby," You pointed out as you slid her a plate of French toast and fresh fruit.

Isabella rolled her eyes again. "I'm almost ten, Mama."

"Still a baby," You stepped around the counter to wrap her in your arms. "My one and only baby."

Isabella squirmed away, giggling. "Mama," she whined. "Stop. You're embarrassing me in front of company."

"Sorry," you apologized, smiling at Natasha, who was watching the scene with amusement. "Old habits die hard. I'll think of something to do to your hair. Eat your breakfast now, and we can walk the dog."

"Yay!" Isabella cheered.

Natasha's hand found yours, her fingers entwining with yours and squeezing lightly.

"We?" Natasha asked softly.

"Yeah," You nodded.

Natasha gave you a soft smile, the kind that reached her eyes and made your knees weak. You were falling for her, and there was no stopping it.

********

A part of you was glad Isabella was talking to Natasha. The other part was concerned. There were still things you needed to talk about that you hadn't figured out yet. And this whole Carol situation last night had left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't like the idea of her and Carol reconnecting. Not when it meant Natasha was spending time with someone who had hurt her before. Especially when that someone was her ex, especially when that someone was Carol Danvers, you didn't hate the girl. You barely knew her. Simply hearing of her reputation was enough for you.

You didn't want to get too in your head. Not as you were walking with Isabella and Natasha around the neighborhood.

"I'm in intermediate-level gymnastics," Isabella explained to Natasha. She held loosely onto Bear's leash as the dog pulled her over to a random bush. He really was a good walker most of the time.

"That's pretty cool," Natasha grinned, her hand holding yours. "How long have you been doing it?"

"Since I was six," Isabella boasted.

"She's pretty good," You added. "Gymnastics, ballet, and dance. She's the busiest kid I know."

"It's fun," Isabella smiled. "Keeps the mind going and the body healthy. Did you play sports as a kid?"

"I did ballet," Natasha admitted."Yeah, it was a long time ago."

"Did you like it?"

"I did," Natasha nodded. "I was good at it, too."

"Were you any good?" Isabella asked.

"Kind of," Natasha chuckled. "It was a long time ago."

"When did you stop?"

"Well, I didn't quit," Natasha explained. "I got older, and my body changed. The type of moves they have us do can be hard on the body."

"Oh," Isabella nodded, a little less cheerful. "So, did you ever hurt yourself?"

"Not seriously, no," Natasha shrugged.

"That's good," Isabella sighed, relieved. "I hurt myself last year. A twisted ankle."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I cried because it hurt," Isabella continued.

"Of course, it did," You smiled. "We'd take a break until you were feeling better. Then you were back at it."

"Yeah," Isabella sighed. "Rookie mistakes."

"You could say that," You grinned.

"Are you busy on Wednesday, Natasha?" You could see by the smile in her eyes that Isabella was about to ask her something without your permission.

"Wednesday? What’s on your mind?"

Isabella's face lit up with a mischievous grin, her eyes darting toward you briefly before returning to Natasha. "We have this recital rehearsal, and we get to bring a helper for some of the moves. Can you come?"

You groaned internally, already anticipating how this was going to play out. "Bella, we talked about this. You’re supposed to ask me before inviting someone."

"I know," she said innocently, twirling a strand of her hair. "But Natasha’s really strong. She’d be great for the lifts!"

Natasha glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused. "Lifts, huh?"

"It’s true!" Isabella insisted. "And besides, you said you used to dance. You’ll understand better than Mama. No offense," she added quickly, glancing your way.

"None taken," you muttered, trying not to roll your eyes.

Natasha seemed thoughtful for a moment. "When is it? I could probably stop by," she said, looking at you for permission.

"Great!" Isabella cheered, jumping up and down. "It starts at four on Wednesday, and we can pick you up."

"Or you can meet us there," you suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Isabella said, waving her hand dismissively. "Can we go to the park now? Pleeeease?"

"I think we can manage," You said, reaching out and taking Bear's leash. The dog had been patiently waiting during your conversation. You didn't think he'd wander off but didn't want to risk it.

"Yes!" Isabella cheered, throwing her hands up.

"Actually, I have a studio session now," Natasha checked her phone. "I'm pretty late, and Wanda's going to kill me."

"Oh, well, do you want us to walk to the house with you?"

"No, I have my car keys," Natasha denied. "I'll find my way."

"Oh, well, okay," You nodded. Isabella gestured for you to kiss her goodbye. You rolled your eyes at your kid and pulled Natasha down the sidewalk out of earshot. "So, I'll talk to you later?"

"You bet," Natasha nodded. She pressed her lips to yours, giving you a sweet, tender kiss. You leaned into it, savoring the taste of her and the feel of her. You'd never get tired of this.

"Okay," You whispered as you broke the kiss.

"Okay," She smiled, squeezing your hand. "Bye, Isabella."

"Bye, Natasha," Isabella called.

"See you, little one," Natasha smiled, winking at her before leaving.

You watched her walk away, admiring the view. It wasn't until she disappeared around the corner that you rejoined your daughter.

"You're in looove," Isabella teased.

"Maybe," You smirked.

"You should totally marry her," Isabella commented.

"Oh, should I?" You asked. "It hasn't even been that long."

"When you know, you know," Isabella said sagely.

"That's very true," You nodded.

"She makes you happy, right?"

"She does," You agreed.

"And I like her." Isabella listed. "You should totally marry her."

"How about we take things slow, okay?" You chuckled. "Let's see how things go."

"Whatever," Isabella giggled.

"What's with you and this whatever thing?" You wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Isabella shrugged dramatically, leaning into your side. "It’s just a vibe, Mama. You know, like, whatever happens, happens."

You couldn’t help but laugh at her sass. "I don’t know about you, but you’re too young to drop wisdom like that."

She grinned mischievously. "Maybe, but someone’s got to keep you in check."

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you hugged her tighter. "I think I’m the one who needs to be keeping you in check."

Isabella hummed, content to let you have the last word for now.

The two of you enjoyed the rest of the morning together, laughing and playing and making up silly songs.

******

When Natasha arrived at the studio session, initially, she didn't know what to write. She'd had a list of songs in her black book that she knew she wanted to lay out. But for the last hour, she'd been staring at the blank sheet, her pencil hovering uselessly over the staff.

"Are you writing?" Wanda asked.

"I am," Natasha nodded.

"Then why aren't we recording?"

"Just... a little writer's block," Natasha said.

"Writer's block?" Wanda repeated. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"I do, but..." She shook her head. "I try not to write such personal things. I have a melody and a couple of lyrics in my head, but I don't know if I should do it."

"Becuase you're in a love triangle?" Wanda guessed.

"No, it's not even a love triangle," Nataha shut her book. "It's not even a love anything. Carol is my ex. I blocked her number. Y/n is my now."

"So why the blockage?" Wanda asked.

Natasha paused momentarily, trying to figure out what was holding her back. Her heart told her to write, but her head told her to be smart.

"It's not like I haven't written love songs before," Natasha started.

"But these are about Y/n," Wanda nodded. "And Carol. I get it."

"Carol was a long time ago. What we had... it wasn't good. We didn't end things on good terms. Y/n, on the other hand, is something I want to try. Someone that means something to me."

"Then write about it," Wanda shrugged.

"I just don't know if I should," Natasha said. "Writing a song about Carol? Fine. We weren't happy. But Y/n. She's someone special. If I write about her and it doesn't work out..."

"You can't live your life worried about the what-ifs," Wanda pointed out. "If you want this relationship and're serious about her, then you must be willing to put yourself out there. That's what people do. They take risks. They have faith in one another. It's a leap of faith."

"When did you become a philosopher?" Natasha teased.

"I'm not," Wanda chuckled. "I just think you're overthinking it. Write the damn song, Natasha. Or I will."

Natasha opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. "Okay, it starts like this..."

"I love her, I want her, but my heart cannot recover,

Stuck in a whirlwind, won’t you get me out?

Fading in and out of what we were before,

But I'm losing me when I keep begging for more."

Natasha sat back, tapping the pen against the notebook's edge as she let the words flow through her mind. Wanda watched her carefully, a knowing smile on her face. Natasha had always been cautious, especially regarding matters of the heart, and Wanda had seen it enough times to recognize the hesitation.

"You know," Wanda began, leaning forward, "that song is pretty powerful already. The emotions are raw. You don't have to have everything figured out right now. Sometimes, you just need to let the music do the talking."

Natasha nodded, eyes still focused on the page, her mind racing with the thoughts of Carol and you of the past and the present. The confusion between what she'd been through and what she now had with you. It wasn't easy, but it felt right.

"You’re right," Natasha finally admitted, her voice softer. "I just... I don't want to mess things up with Y/n. She’s different, Wanda. She’s... real."

Wanda reached over and squeezed her hand, her expression gentle. "I know, and that's a good thing. It's a sign that things are changing for the better. Take it one day at a time, and don't overthink it."

"That's easier said than done," Natasha sighed.

"True," Wanda chuckled. "But I'm always here for you, even if it means reminding you not to be so damn stubborn all the time. Now, let's write some more of this song."

Natasha grinned, picking up the pen and turning back to the page, her fingers already itching to start composing. "You know, I'm glad we decided to work on this project. It's been a long time coming."

"Me too," Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up. "And hey, we might actually finish something. We recorded three songs with the guys. If we finish this and like it...we might actually be getting somewhere with the album."

"Don't jinx it," Natasha laughed. "But I wouldn't mind recording more. Especially with this."

"Yeah, yeah," Wanda waved her hand. "Let's just get this song finished. Then we can talk about the next one."

"Deal."

As they worked, the two women found themselves in a comfortable rhythm. The back and forth between them was familiar, and they quickly lost track of time. The song began to come together, and Natasha found herself getting more and more excited. This was the kind of music she wanted to be making—deep, soulful, real.

They spent the rest of the day working on the song, taking breaks only to eat or use the bathroom. When they finally called it a day, both women were exhausted but pleased with their progress.

"Okay, now for the next one," she said with a knowing grin.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Another one already? You don’t waste any time."

Wanda chuckled. "What can I say? We’re on fire. So, I thought… maybe we should try something different for the next single."

Natasha tilted her head in interest. "Different? How?"

"I’m thinking we stick to the punk vibe, but… I want to experiment with something soulful, a voice that's a little outside of our usual sound." Wanda's eyes sparkled with the excitement of the idea. "I was thinking Y/n could be a good fit for it."

"Y/n? As in, my girlfriend?"

"Yes, and my friend," Wanda nodded.

"You think she could do it?" Natasha asked, her chest warming at the mention of the you.

"Yeah, absolutely. She's got a great voice, and her lyrics are killer. Plus, she's not afraid to be vulnerable. That's the kind of emotion we're going for. What do you think?" Wanda began to pack up her things.

"I think it's a big ask," Natasha said. She sighed, her thoughts racing. "I guess I get the appeal. It’s just… Y/n's got her own sound. I don’t want to pull her into something that’s not authentic to her. Plus, she doesn't sing anymore."

"I get it, and I wouldn't be suggesting it if I didn't think she was right for the song. I've heard her sing before. She's got the range and the passion." Wanda looked at Natasha, her expression serious. "It's worth a shot. Maybe if she hears the song, she'll feel inspired to sing again."

"Maybe," Natasha said, though she wasn't sure. The thought of you singing again filled her with hope, but she didn't want to get her expectations too high. You'd clarified that singing wasn't part of your life anymore. Still, the idea of having you collaborate with them was intriguing. "Okay, I'll bring it up with her. But no promises."

"Fair enough," Wanda nodded. "I'll let you take the lead. Just don't wait too long. I think it could be a game-changer for us."

Natasha gave her a skeptical look. "A game-changer? Isn't that a bit much?"

Wanda shook her head. "Nah, not when it's true. Besides, the world could always use more soulful artists. It's a win-win."

"All right," Natasha relented. "I'll talk to her."

"Great," Wanda smiled. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Wanda," Natasha said, waving her off. She had a lot to think about.

The question was, where did you stand on all of this?

[hlvrai-stuck-together]

He's late.

It's the big day, and he's already fucking it up. Awesome. Leave it to Gordon to continuously make everything harder for everyone around him.

Under stress, panicking, and annoyed to hell and back, he pushed the cart into the beam. As soon as the crystal touched the laser, it sparked, electricity zapping out across the large chamber. Smoke started to rise from the machine, and the creak of radiation filled the air.

Gordon took a few steps back, looking up at it in horror. Shit, they did it too fast, didn't they? They could hear their coworkers screaming behind them, but their attention was locked on the giant machine.

The security guard who'd followed him in suddenly vanished from his peripheral. Gordon looked away for just a moment to try and find him again- there! Standing on top of the platform where the controls were, there was the "non-human" guy who'd been following him all day. The radiation beams were shooting right next to him, ohh fuck he was going to die up there.

"Get off the top of the- you're gonna wanna be on the floor, what if the fuckin' rafters fall?!" they shouted up at him. "You gotta-"

With a flash of light, the test's sample started glowing an intense, neon green color, cutting Gordon off. He threw his hands up over his eyes, catching a glimpse of the chat as he did so. He couldn't make out any of the words, but he could see that people were speaking in all caps now. He yelled a swear at the pain.

He spun around to look at the window, shouting for help, only to watch helplessly as one of the other scientists overseeing the project launched himself down into the chamber. He shouted in fear, running around in panic before seemingly tripping over his own feet and knocking himself out on the floor.

The guard was just fuckin' gone by now. He must have gotten trapped in the beam or something, there was no way to tell and no time to find his body. The crystal started rocking in the cart, and with each shift there came another explosion, with atoms crashing into each other and splitting in ways that should not have been possible with humanity's current tools. Gordon could only look up at it, frozen in fear.

With one final shift of the crystal, it shattered. With it went the whole experiment, lighting the entire room up in harsh green. Gordon threw his hands up in front of him, screaming as his world was changed forever.

Then... nothing.

Gordon blinked a few times, looking around themself at the pitch blackness that had enveloped his world. He couldn't even see himself in it.

...Was he dead?

No, that couldn't have been right. He was still breathing, right? That had to count for something.

He squinted into the dark, trying to see anything. As his eyes adjusted, he swore he could see faint lines of green running lengthwise down his vision. Whether that was caused by the bright light of radiation or if that was actually SOMETHING, he couldn't tell yet.

He opened his mouth to yell, but instead of screaming out into the dark like he'd planned, he let out a simple, friendly greeting.

"Howdy."

No one answered him.

As his eyes continued to adjust, he began to make out what the lines were- numbers. They were lines and lines of numbers, wrapping all around him.

...Where was he?

"Howdy," he continued to call out. "Howdy. Howdy. Howdy. Howdy."

Still, no answer.

The world around him began to flash, green as the radiation from the test gone wrong. Gordon spun around, trying to find the source of it. The numbers lit up under the flashing lights- illuminated by shots of lightning- ones and zeros.

It was the same light from the Resonance Cascade. Aw fuck, was he still in the test chamber? Shit, he had to wake up, he was going to get hit.

He struggled to move, only to realize there was a pull on his arm. Looking towards it, he could see green strings attached, pulling him nowhere and in five different directions at once. It hurt, oh GOD it hurt, but no amount of pulling was freeing him. He pushed against it with his left hand, his free hand, and no avail. Nothing.

Before he could do much else, the strings yanked, and with this tug went his hand. He screamed in pain and surprise, everything going dark again, but only briefly.

He was in the garbage compactor. His hand was gone.

He wanted to stop, but something compelled him forward. He wanted to lay down and go back to sleep, but something wouldn't let him. He wanted to give up. Something in him made him grit his teeth.

He kept going through Black Mesa, lead on by Tommy this time. He wanted to collapse. Something forced his legs forward.

He kept getting kicked back down when he tried to climb out of the water, the clone's heels relentless. He yelled for Tommy, trying in vain to pull himself out. He only could with Tommy's help.

His friend was caught up in the tide of clones, too, and was quickly shoved away from Gordon. The shots from his gun continued to echo through the room, adding to Gordon's massive headache.

"I've unleashed the power of all 300 clones," Dr Coomer's voice boomed from somewhere. It was near impossible to tell if he was far away or close by with all the noise. Gordon's head swiveled quickly, trying to pinpoint where the hell he was.

"There's an entrance in your suit, Gordon, AND I WANT IN."

There! He was shoving his own clones aside, slowly making his way closer. He had the look of a crazed man about him, eyes too wide, grin too large. He was shaking, too, like he was high on adrenaline.

Green lines were starting to creep along the walls, down down down like a watercolor painting. Gordon squeezed their eyes shut, shouting Tommy's name.

He was backed into a corner, swarmed by clones as the real- main?- Coomer crept closer and closer. "I've been outside Black Mesa, Dr Freeman. There's nothing there. But you..." He shoved his way in front of Gordon, grabbing his stub of an arm. "I KNOW there's a world in your dreams, AND I NEED TO GO THERE."

Gordon screamed.

Berdey shot up, startled out of xeir nightmare. Fuck... nightmare. At least it wasn't real.

Just to be sure, they pinched themself. Yep. That hurt.

They flopped back down on the bed with a sigh. Gordon could never escape these, either- of COURSE Berdey would inherit them from him. Couldn't catch a break, in this life or the next.

It was still dark under the door, implying the darkness outside, too. Night. Well, they didn't wanna go back to sleep, not after that.

Looking at xeir left hand, they saw no new messages aside from the "goodnight"s that had been there before they drifted off.

They didn't wanna get up, but they also wanted to check on Coomer, just to make sure he was okay. Gordon had never managed to figure out what the fuck he'd meant by the whole "world in your dreams" thing. His dreams were a nightmare. Literally this time around. Why would Coomer want to go there?

It was anxiety talking. Coomer hadn't brought it up in a long time. Maybe he'd finally gotten over it. Besides, he didn't exactly want to see him right now.

With a sigh, he laid back down. It was gonna be a long night.

[noxtivagus]

NO THOUGHTS ONLY SHADOWBRINGERS HFALKDSJFASLKD

[fvsm4x]

#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.

— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

NEXT

„I think we should break up.“

Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.

“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.

As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.

How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?

But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.

“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”

You looked at him, surprised by his words.

“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”

As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.

You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.

As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.

Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.

As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."

His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.

As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,

With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.

As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.

-

In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.

In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.

It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.

What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.

Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.

The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.

But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.

His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.

To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.

However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.

As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.

But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.

Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.

However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.

Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.

And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.

And that's when you became a couple.

But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.

You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?

Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.

You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.

The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.

The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.

You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.

Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.

Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.

-

Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.

You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,

The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.

You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.

As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.

In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.

But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.

As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.

A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.

As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.

You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.

Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.

Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.

It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.

She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.

But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.

You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.

"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.

„It was an accident-“

He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“

„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke

„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"

Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.

Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.

You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.

„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.

Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.

„Call the manager.“

Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.

She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.

Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.

Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,

"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.

Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.

After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.

As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.

"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."

„Sure“ the girl replied.

-

Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.

As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”

The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”

Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”

The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.

Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.

Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,

“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?

“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”

“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,

“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.

“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.

“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,

His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"

Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.

A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."

„But-!“

„No buts.“

"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."

He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.

You nodded and followed after him.

NEXT

[lenny-link]

TF2 x SU au fusions!

oof this took too long but i finally made it !

I kept @gracefireheart Andalusite (HeavyMedic) and @cariocay ‘s Turquoise (EngieSpy) (that i just realized their account got deactivated just a few days ago im sad now) fusion designs because i just found them perfect and whenever i wanted to try making my own designs i always ended up with making something similar to theirs since i was very influenced so i just kept them! They’re so awesome plz check the original artists!

my designs :3 :

About the fusions:

I tried to choose a theme for every fusion that suits the characters like Spessartite (DemoSolly) is a warrior i put Demo’s sword with Soldier’s shield thing well he doesn’t specifically have a shield but yknow the helmet thing i thought that could work.

He’s very powerful, strong and jump into action without a second thought, while he possesses immense strength and a love for loud and chaotic things, his battle prowess is a double-edged sword since his attacks lack precision. however, this unpredictability often leaves his enemies confused and scrambling to defend. he fights more efficiently when drunk lol

Lepidolite (MedicSpy) is a plague doctor, he is very inspired by Hannibal Lecter (nbc Hannibal lol shout out to that one Anon who recommended it for me to watch it lol) at first i wanted to give him a bistouri as a weapon, since it would suit Medic’s saw with Spy’s small knife, but then i felt the fusion was leaning too much towards Medic than Spy, so i put a cane instead to give that old idk gentleman look :P

He is polished and sophisticated, with a hint of underlying sadism and very precise in his movements, he meticulously analyzes his opponents, exploiting weaknesses with surgical precision before jumping into action and strike right where it hurts the most, the cane appears to be a simple walking stick, but inside is a hollowed core that had a retractable, poison-tipped blade, and his poison isn't fast-acting he enjoys toying with his victims, watching as the venom slowly takes hold, fueling his twisted sense of amusement. they are far from being the strongest fusion but they rely a lot on making their opponent weaker by their ability to attack precise hits as well as poisoning them!

Carnelian (SniperScout) his design was inspired by a equestrian outfit (he was the hardest to design tbh bc i wanted his design to be specifically different from the others since Scout is half human so i wanted this "human" aspect to show in the fusion).

He is a walking paradox, he's got Sniper's calm confidence with Scout's hyperactive energy, he loves a good plan but his execution is often fueled by pure adrenaline, he can zip across the battlefield with incredible speed, dodging attacks and flanking enemies. good at mid range and long range attacks but weak at close range, has internalized monologues with himself a lot, he appears calm on the surface however, his foot constantly taps, he fidgets with his slingshot, he cannot stays in place for too long. enjoys taking challenges.

Rubellite (DemoPyro) is a robot with a 50’s cartoon style but with like a creepy vibe to it, their voice sounds like a broken radio perpetually stuck on a laugh track, is both infectious and unsettling.

They just as powerful as Spessartite but just a bit more agile and lean more on the defense style than offense, their body stretches in a cartoony way and battles become a twisted playground for them, a child's game where they hop and blow things up everywhere. they’re very joyful and loves to have fun while making chaos, they usually make jokes but no one understands their muffled voice so they often laugh all by themselves lol the weapon actually expands where the ball and the shaft of the mace connects there’s a chaine (i didnt draw it cuz there was already too much going on in the drawing lol) which helps them reach target from close to mid range easily, they twist and turn their body in very flexible ways before swatting their weapon at their target.

♠︎ If you want to suggest a pair for the next fusion please just comment here DO NOT send it in my ask box plz !!

And if you want to make your own fusion designs/fanart go ahead ! id love to see other people’s interpretations could be ! just don’t forget to tag me and add the tag ( tf2 x su au) :D

hope you enjoy !

+ early designs :

[ortegahaze]

bleeding heart

pairing: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

synopsis: determined to impress your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams, on Halloween, you gift her a vial of your own blood. A fainting mishap turns the gesture chaotic, but Wednesday’s amused rescue reveals she might just share your dark affection.

warnings: mentions of blood and needle, fluff, humor.

a/n: happy halloween to those who celebrate! i wanted to share something themed, and what better choice than wednesday addams? i’m also close to finishing a requested katie torres story, as well as the second part of anyone but you.

word count: 1,6k

—

You’ve been dating Wednesday Addams for three intense, darkly enchanting months, and you’ve learned that choosing the right gift for her is no easy task. She finds most gifts either pointless or painfully sentimental. But it’s Halloween—the one night of the year when the world aligns with her tastes: mysterious, morbid, and a little dangerous. So, you decide it’s worth the risk.

After much thought—and far more of Enid’s “enthusiastic” help than you planned for—you settle on a gift you’re certain will impress Wednesday: a heart-shaped vial filled with a drop of your own blood. It’s unique, bold, and deeply personal. If there’s anything that might move her, it’s this.

Which is how you find yourself seated in Yoko’s dorm, nervously sweating on her sleek black couch as she holds up a butterfly needle and tourniquet. As a werewolf, you’re used to scrapes and bruises, but there’s something about needles that makes you feel faint. And with Enid’s wolfish grin and Yoko’s vampire fangs glinting in the dim light, you’re starting to question your “brilliant” idea.

“You know,” Yoko says, tightening the tourniquet around your arm with a wry smile, “most people would back out by now.”

“I’m not backing out,” you insist, though your voice wavers more than you’d like. You glance down at the tiny heart-shaped vial waiting beside you, its delicate glass ready to be filled and transformed into a pendant for Wednesday. If you can survive this needle-induced haze without fainting again, maybe Wednesday will recognize the depth of the gesture.

Enid pats your shoulder. “Think about how much Wednesday’s gonna love this! She won’t say it, but I bet she’ll be super impressed.”

“Oh, she’ll definitely be impressed,” Yoko grins. “You’re practically giving her your heart, you know?”

You laugh weakly, imagining Wednesday’s reaction, hoping she’ll see this gesture for what it is. That thought alone steadies you enough to hold out your arm. But as soon as the needle touches your skin and the blood begins to run through the tiny tube, the room starts to spin faster, and as Enid’s voice fades to a distant echo, your last thought is: Totally worth it if Wednesday approves.

When you come to, you’re lying back on Yoko’s couch with both her and Enid leaning over you, faces somewhere between amused and concerned.

“Alright,” The vampire says, holding up the half-filled vial with a smirk, “maybe you’re not exactly cut out for this.”

You groan, embarrassed. “I… I wanted it to be perfect.”

Enid pats your shoulder a little too enthusiastically. “It’s fine! We’ll just call Wednesday over. She’ll probably think it’s extra romantic that you fainted for her.”

“No way!” you protest, trying to sit up, but your head spins, and Enid gently pushes you back down.

Yoko is already tapping away on her phone. “Too late. She’s on her way to rescue her tragic, fainting puppy.”

Moments later, the door creaks open, and Wednesday steps inside, her gaze sweeping over the scene. She takes in your helpless sprawl on the couch, Yoko with the half-filled vial, and Enid’s barely-contained grin.

Her arms cross, and she raises a single eyebrow. “Would anyone care to explain?”

Yoko gestures toward you, barely hiding her amusement. “Your valiant partner here attempted the ultimate DIY tribute. We nearly lost them to their own romantic ambitions.”

Wednesday’s expression remains stoic, but there’s an unmistakable glint in her eye—a glint you can’t quite decipher, yet can’t resist either. “I see. And you thought it wise to assist them?”

Enid shrugs. “It was pretty romantic—until the fainting part.”

Ignoring Enid, Wednesday strides over and reaches down to help you up. “We’re going to your room,” she says firmly, grabbing the half-full vial and the equipment Yoko left behind.

You blush, both embarrassed and grateful. “I can walk, you know,” you mumble, though you sway a bit as you stand, and Wednesday’s hand stays firm on your arm.

Her lips quirk slightly. “Yes. You’ve demonstrated impressive physical prowess so far.”

You groan, leaning on her slightly as she leads you through the hallways, surrounded by the eerie glow of Halloween decorations. The school is draped in webs and flickering lights, shadows cast by paper bats hanging from the ceiling, and jack-o’-lanterns grinning from dark corners. Faint echoes of spooky music and the occasional laugh drift through the halls as students celebrate the holiday.

After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. “I know this was… a bit dramatic. I just thought it would be meaningful, you know? Like… giving you something uniquely personal.”

Wednesday glances up at you, her dark eyes slightly softer than usual. “There are any number of ways you could have shown that without requiring an emergency rescue.”

“I guess,” you admit, sheepish. “But it wouldn’t have been the same. You… make me want to do things that are a little foolish.”

A faint smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, though she doesn’t respond. She simply walks beside you until you reach your dorm. Once inside, she sits you down at your desk, still holding the vial and the needle. Setting the vial aside, she loops the tourniquet around your arm with practiced precision.

“If you’re still determined to finish this… gift,” she says, giving you a challenging look, “then I’ll do it myself. Unless, of course, you’d rather faint a second time.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, like I’d ever pass out with you around.”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain? The track record doesn’t favor you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but your breath catches as she lifts the butterfly needle, her gaze steady and calm. Without thinking, you reach for her free hand, gripping it tightly as she begins drawing the blood.

She glances down at your hand in hers, a slight flicker of surprise in her expression. “I suppose bravery is easier when you’re clinging to someone else.”

You smirk, tightening your grip just a little. “Bravery is in short supply around needles, okay? Consider yourself lucky I’m still conscious.”

A faint, amused breath escapes her, and she continues filling the vial, her voice low as she recounts her day’s events: her latest experiments, the endless irritations of her classmates, her determination to ignore them all. You find yourself relaxing as she talks in the calm, steady way she only does when it’s just the two of you. Before long, the vial is filled, and she carefully removes the needle and tourniquet. She disappears briefly to fetch a band-aid, returning to press it gently against the tiny wound.

When she holds up the completed vial, her eyes glint with something almost… reverent. Her fingers, cool to the touch, linger over the vial, and for just a moment, she holds it up to the moonlight as if it were a priceless relic. She’s silent, but the pendant’s soft glow says what she won’t.

“You’ve successfully turned me into my parents,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of irritation and faint amusement.

You can’t help a smirk. “Do you really hate it?”

She narrows her eyes, though there’s warmth in them. “Less than I expected.”

Taking a steadying breath, you reach for the pendant. “Let me put it on you?” The question comes out quieter than you’d planned, but Wednesday doesn’t pull back; she inclines her head slightly, turning so her braids falls to one side.

You fumble only slightly with the clasp before placing the chain gently around her neck, the tiny vial resting just above her collarbone. Your fingers brush her skin as you fasten the clasp, and you feel her shiver, though her expression remains impassive, save for the faintest glint in her eyes. She holds your gaze, her usual dark intensity softened ever so slightly.

Stepping back, you can’t help the small surge of pride at seeing her wear it. “Look at that—I survived. Guess I’m ready for something far more daring. Like… a tattoo.”

She arches an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Your confidence is admirable, if poorly placed.”

“Hey, with you there to hold my hand, I could handle anything,” you say, meeting her gaze.

Her eyes soften just slightly, and she doesn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she traces her fingers over the tiny heart-shaped vial, now sealed and resting against her skin. “Then I suppose I’ll consider it my duty.”

You grin, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re really making it hard not to faint all over again, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t let go of your hand. “Let’s get something for you to eat,” she says, her voice quiet yet surprisingly tender.

Later that night, you and Wednesday are seated at the far end of the quad, away from the Halloween festivities echoing through the courtyard. She’s wearing the pendant, the blood-filled vial catching the moonlight as she glances over at you.

“By the way,” she says, her voice a soft murmur in the night, “if you ever think to attempt something like this again, do inform me beforehand.”

You chuckle, leaning back on the bench beside her. “Oh, you’re so eager to torture me, aren’t you?”

She meets your gaze, her lips twitching in a barely-there smile. “Precisely.”

As silence settles between you, her hand brushes against yours with quiet familiarity. Sitting together under the expansive night, fingers entwined, you realize that with Wednesday, every gesture is equal parts peril and promise—and that, you know, is exactly why it feels so right.

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus likes to stare at you

cw: suggestive themes, angst, hardcore pinning, optimus is fucking obsessed with you, obsessive thoughts, yandere?? optimus i guess, bro is down bad for you

word count: 995

an: had a blast wiritng this, i love making characters disgustingly obsessed with reader lmao

He was doing it again.

Optimus is a calculated being. He didn’t make rash decisions, never threw words to the wind. Every action he took had meaning; none were purposeless or born of impulse or whim. He was crafted to be the perfect leader, to guide thousands, millions. He was supposed to be an authority, the alpha and omega, someone to be respected, admired, and followed. But there was one creature who turned his philosophy upside down and broke his facade.

He blinked once, twice. His optics returned to reading the report on the datapad. However, not even ten seconds of focus passed—a return to being the Prime—and his attention was anchored somewhere else again.

He couldn’t tell anymore, was he doing it on purpose or automatically? A force stronger than him, stronger than Primus himself, was pulling his optics toward that one being capable of breaking him. In the presence of this rare power, he was truly defenseless, revealing to everyone close to him the truth of his feelings, the intensity of which surpassed his wildest expectations. They had grown beyond his control, fierce and unyielding, like a wild beast impossible to tame.

He knew it was inappropriate, and unfitting for you and his friends; he should have restrained the beast before it became a problem. But he hadn’t. He had failed, and another burden had taken residence on his shoulders.

You laughed, and his optics instantly shifted to you. His spark throbbed pleasantly, distracting him from tormenting his very being. He adored that sound, rejoicing every time he heard it. It was melodic, soothing, and calming. In an instant, it tamed his chaotic processor, now focused solely on you, the real you. Optimus observed every smile, frown, and wrinkle on your face with great curiosity, even though he had done it countless times. He watched your chest rise and fall, counting how many breaths you took in a minute. He searched for any abnormalities or signs of illness. Nothing escaped his attention.

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on the report. Not when you were so close to him, when he knew there was a microscopic chance you’d start a conversation with him. You’d honor him and look at him, too. He didn't dare to ask for more. He longed, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself that—at least not now. For the sake of keeping an image, he still held the datapad in his hand, but his thoughts were circling around you.

You were discussing something with Miko about a topic he didn’t understand, related to Earth’s video games. For some time now, he had planned to gather knowledge about them, so he could have conversations with you beyond his comfort zone, aligned with your interests. He wanted to be more approachable, and friendly, enticing you to spend more time with him. Amidst the stream of words, he caught a single one, which he assumed was a title, and made a mental note to study it later. Would you be happy to see him as someone worth talking to? Would you smile, let him hold you on his servo or shoulder? Help ease a processor constantly focused on unknowns and daydreams?

Content simply to be in your presence, yet fantasizing about something deeper, more intimate, he was still intently watching you. He had drifted so far from shore that he acknowledged Jack's and Rafael’s greetings a second too late. He nodded to the kids and briefly watched as they climbed onto the couch beside you. You had a way with children, caring for them, and helping with their school projects, but most importantly, you were their friend. Seeing you surrounded by children had an effect on Optimus—a feeling he was even frightened to contemplate because it easily took over him, pulling him away from reality, creating visions that would never come true, no matter how much he wanted them to.

"You are crossing the line," he reminded himself, fully aware that he had crossed it long ago. The cup had overflowed; there was no going back. Primus, he had just daydreamed about having offspring with a different species.

The truth was, despite all the self-flagellation, despite the hatred for what he had become, the ruin he had brought upon himself, he didn’t want to stop. You were a pleasant distraction from the war, death, and suffering that had accompanied him since becoming Prime, and for now, he didn’t plan to (couldn't) let go of that distraction. This didn’t mean his little obsession with you was painless—quite the contrary. However, those brief moments when your attention was focused on him, when you shared your touch as you traveled with him through Jasper when you looked only at him, made up for all the pain, torment, and hell he went through. Then there was no war, no Decepticons, no Optimus Prime. There was only him and you.

One last time, he tried to return to the report, but this time it wasn’t his illusions sabotaging his work. This time, it was you.

“Optimus,” your voice freed him from the prison of his thoughts. “I’d totally understand if you don’t have time to leave the base. But… would you perhaps like to drive me home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course, [Name],” he replied immediately because refusing you made no sense.

“Can’t you ask Bumblebee instead of dragging Optimus to fulfill your whims?” Ratchet intruded into the conversation.

“That will not be a problem for me,” Optimus assured, with an unusually stern tone aimed more at the medic than at you. “I am at your service, [Name].”

“Thank you!”

He transformed and waited patiently for you to join him. He opened the door, and once you climbed into the seat, he fastened the seatbelt himself. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the slow pace he had settled upon, that this time he had decided to be selfish, savoring the unrestrained pleasure of your privacy.

[marsprincess889]

VEDIC ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

Part 3

More random and messy but still true

DISCLAIMER: if you consider some of these positive and others negative, then I want you guys to know that they come from my personal observations of real life. None of the nakshatras are better or worse, or positive or negative, these are just aspects of them, but nevertheless, true.

Magha people can have such an ego omg like I've said that before with rat yonis but P.Phalguni I think is nowhere near Magha in that department. Ashwini can also come off as egotistical, but it's moreso that they're unintentionally(or sometimes, intentionally) ignorant. Mula can also have egotistical tendencies, esp cause the galactic center(the black hole) is in Mula nakshatra, so they can have this "I'm the center of the world" attitude, but in my experience it manifests as just them mainly trusting themselves. All Ketu nakshatras have this theme of going inwards and shutting the world out, but since Magha is in the Sun ruled Leo (sun=ourselves, confidence) it can come off as undeservedely egotistical, different from Ashwinis aggressively(Aries/Mars) ignorant and Mula's relentlessly preachy(Sagittarius/Jupiter).

The Ashlesha to Jyeshta pipeline is actually very obvious, they're more connected than people realize. Obviously they're both Mercury nakshatras, but Ashlesha is often seen in a very sensual, feminine light and Jyeshta in a no-nonsense, cut to the chase light. The difference is that all that bottled up energy of Ashlesha, that was either healing or poisoning the native is ready to fight and be more direct in Jyeshta. They're both laser focused on survival and protecting themselves, desperately trying to realize themselves in the proccess, so it's a struggle. Both are trying to preserve their energy, but Ashlesha was trapped in the confines of the 4th house(family, roots,mother) and the sign of Cancer/Moon(emotions, fliudity, sensitivity), either for its safety or to its detriment, and was trying to get their energy out in a correct way. Jyeshta is out in the open, thrown in the sign of Scorpio/the 8th house/ passive Mars (transformation, rebirth, purging, sex, death, warfare, survival, defence. You and the other are one and the same in the 8th house). For Jyeshta, the only way to survive, is to win over everyone else, and when they eventually win, they gain dominion over others. So Jyeshta is kind of about revisiting that Ashlesha state and having the revenge, so to speak, because after gaining strength on your own, you eventually have to face the ones who you were so desperately trying to get away from(ashlesha).

Mulas can be so gentle and honestly at first I did not know where that came from, but since the last third of nakshatras are about transcending and mastering their ruling planet in a sense(btw, that does not mean that they embody the energy of the planet more, or that they're better) and Ketu is about primal instincts, then Mula is the place where the individual centers themselves in their truth and is unmoved by others, thus, avoiding unnecessary energy drainage. Of course, they can also be the most untamed of all, but in our civilized(mostly🙁) society, their natural demeanor is extremely calm.

Chitra natives are soooooo chaotic like calm down jesus. It makes sense when your consider that its gunas are TTT(tamas, tamas, tamas). Among the planets, Ketu is the most tamasic one(Chitra's ruler_Mars is also tamasic), but each nakshatra has their own guna(Ashwini is Rajas x3, Bharani is Rajas-Rajas-Tamas, Revati is Sattva x3, you get it). So Chitra people are the most chaotic, if I may say so. (Gotta credit The Hidden Octave's Chitra video for the observation). There are a lot of indicators that explain this but I've already written a lot in the previous ones😭 if you know basic vedic, this observation is of no surprise to you. They can also be prone to anxiety, but often they're unaware of it, so that has a detrimental effect on people around them.

Uttara Bhadrapadas are VERY hard to order around. Impossible even. Idk why someone would want to order someone else around but nevertheless, these natives can deal with any kind of unfairness with such grace, self-mastery and quiet strength that eventually nothing gets to them anymore. So if you see an U. Bhadra child disobey their superiors calmly and in a controlled but determined manner, you know why.

I really have a lot of respect for Uttara Ashadas(not all, lmao), because they just deal with stuff alone. And it's natural for them, and they don't do it for a goal(like in Jyeshta, which is not bad, it's just different) or for attention, it's just a way of life for them. Simplicity and stoicism 🤌

Okay, now a fun one: Moon girls (Rohini, Hasta and Shravana) are the blueprints of Y/N. If you guys don't know what Y/N please look it up. Not just Y/N, but characters like Bella Swan(hasta moon, rohini asc actress) and Elena Gilbert(shravana moon anctress) come to mind. Even popular instagram users who parody those movies/fanfics/characters have moon placements(@laframbuesaa_ rohini moon if i remember correctly and @yasmine_sahid_ shravana moon(?) on insta). Even Harry fcking styles, who is probably the most common love interest in those fanfics has hasta moon. If you know a little about nakshatras, this makes sooo much sense. Moon is something that masses can understand and digest easily, so it's not complicated and sometimes, it can verge on delusions(or an insane sensitivity and receptivity and the ability to read between the lines, but that's just for a number of their natives). Other nakshatras that can fall into the Y/N trope are venus and ketu nakshatras, but moon is the most classic example of it.

I want confirmation in the comments/reblogs for this one: Bharani natives love high fantasy, history(esp medieval), fantasy in general and/or just everything/anything with that vibe. Cause I'm bharani moon and I do, and I've seen some other examples. If not, then the Bharani natives themselves seem like they're out of those times/stories. I can't explain it in any other way. (This might be true for Bharani Ketu too.)

Alright, this is all. Reblog, comment, like. Interact please

Take care

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS: Knocked Up | 18+

Damn my laptop for this virus called "Brainrot" after I saw a post by @pixiiipie So anyway now we gotta do our due diligence and knock up these men. I don't make the rules but I will enforce them. Also Zayne turned out fluffy but Xavier and ESPECIALLY Rafayel get chaotic reader to the max.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Joking of MPreg, Mentions of Pegging, Zayne Losing his sanity again, Crack taken seriously, suggestive themed ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: You decide to pop the question to your beloved boyfriend, "So can I knock you up?"

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier looked so content, so vulnerable as you walked through the apartment. He was in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, when your arms wrapped around his midsection. Xavier hummed, noticing you and relaxing into your hold.

“Xavie baby, I have a question.” You said, your voice light and Xavier paused in his actions.

“What did you need?” He finally asked and you chuckled, your face pressed in his shoulder blades. He knew that snicker, it was one that you had whenever you were up to no good, a common theme these days.

“How’d you feel about me getting you preggers?” You finally asked. You could feel Xavier’s back tense up at the thought. You couldn’t see his face, but you were certain his eyes were wide like saucers at the moment.

“My star, you do realize that’s impossible, correct?” Xavier finally asked and you groaned into his back. He shuffled a bit until he could turn around, your body still wrapped around him but now your face was in between his pecs.

“We just aren’t trying hard enough, Xav. Trust me, I can do it.” You said, looking up at him with your pleading eyes. Xavier looked away from you, his cheeks a bit red at the thought of what you were asking.

“Where did this line of thinking even come from? Did you want kids?” He asked, looking at you with confusion. You couldn’t help but snicker at the thought and shook your head.

“I never said I wanted kids. I just was implying my want to breed you.” You stated it so bluntly that Xavier looked up at the ceiling as if asking for some divine intervention from your insanity.

“You want to somehow get me, a male, pregnant, yet you don’t want children?” Xavier said slowly, as if gauging the situation.

“Mpreg you, ya. That’s the goal. Make your boobies bigger.” You said with a nod. Xavier sighed as he grabbed your arms from around his waist and pulled them off. He pressed your arms against your chest as he leaned a bit.

“I think I need to go for a walk.” He said and you pouted.

“Without me?” You murmured and Xavier felt a small part of him breaking at the pleading look in your eyes. Despite how insane you were, he still loved you.

“You can join me if you stop this line of questioning.” He offered. You let out a hum, thinking things over before shaking your head.

“In that case, no. I’ll be here, waiting for you to come back, with rose petals on the bed. Have fun, love.” You said as you gave him a quick peck on the nose before getting things ready for his return.

Zayne

“Oh Zayne.” Your singsong voice came out, making the man in question stare over at you. He adjusted the glasses on his face, looking you over as he wondered what you wanted. Your voice was too sweet, too innocent. You were up to no good.

“Yes?” He said, closing the medical text he was currently reading for fun. You made your way over to his desk, sitting on the edge of it and smirking as his eyes went from your thighs to your face. You had just finished your check-up with him and opted to stay until his shift was over. That had been half an hour ago and you had grown bored.

You crossed your legs, flashing him a bit more skin as your head tilted, “I was thinking…I wanna get you pregnant.”

Out of everything Zayne had come to expect for you to say, that certainly hadn’t been it. He paused for a moment, looking at you then looking away just as fast. He took his glasses off and placed them in the front pocket of his lab coat.

“I’m sure I don’t need to be the one to remind you that I don’t possess the proper organs to carry a child. I would think you’d know this, however if you needed an extra lesson in reproductive health and basic human anatomy, I’d be more than happy to teach you.” He said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

He watched your mischievous smirk turn into a frown as you looked away. Your cheeks were slightly puffed up as you pouted; your legs were swinging half-heartedly as you gave the man a subtle silent treatment. 

Zayne could tell immediately that your mood had dropped, so he just sighed. You heard him clearing his throat and his chair rolling on the ground as he stood up. His arms were placed on either side of your legs as he looked at you with a serious expression. You finally looked back up at him, curious as to what he was up to.

You watched as a blush crept up to his cheeks, turning them red alongside his ears. He couldn’t even look at you as he spoke, “I never said that had to stop you from trying.”

Those words snapped you out of your funk as your jaw dropped. He still wasn’t looking at you, but he knew you were content by the little squeal you let out. You cupped his cheeks, immediately going to pepper his face with several kisses.

“Ah you’re the cutest, Zayne.” You said, leaving a few more kisses before forcing him to look at you, “For the record, I never had any plans on stopping.” You said and Zayne sighed.

“Of course you didn’t.” He murmured, making you smirk. He knew loving you came with a price, he just forgot that the price was his sanity.

Rafayel

“Hey fish boy, bend over and lemme breed that bussy and fill you with my babies.” You said unprompted as you looked at him. The poor man had been mixing paint as you sat down on the comfortable sofa across from him. Rafayel seemed to pause, your words processing in his head. You could see when they finally began making sense in his mind when his cheeks and ears began getting red.

Rafayel shot you a small pout, “I guess a good morning isn’t enough anymore?” He complained, making you snicker.

“Raf this is serious. I couldn’t sleep at all because it was all I could think of.” You said, now getting up to walk over to the artist. The man was already shrinking away, his body tense as he prepared to run off if need be.

“Then get a new brain…besides shouldn’t the role of getting someone pregnant be my job.” Rafayel finally asked, not able to make eye contact with you.

“Okay but who’s the submissive and breedable one between the two of us?” You asked and Rafayel gave you an unimpressed look.

“If you’re asking me, then that description would fit you.” He finally huffed.

“Absolutely not. Now come ooooooon, Raf.” You said, getting close enough to wrap your arms around his neck, “Lemme breed you. Please?”

Rafayel took your arms off him and turned around, his ears still a brilliant shade of red, “Absolutely not. I know I’m irresistible, but I’m not ready to have kids.” He said and you chuckled.

“I didn’t say we needed to have kids.” You finally said, not giving up as you now wrapped your arms around his back and placed a small kiss on the back of his neck. “Just wanna breed.”

Rafayel finally seemed to have caught on as he swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t bother looking back at you as your words were finally making sense, “Is this your unsubtle way of asking to peg me?”

You let out a fake moan, “Oh my gods Raf, you are so sexy when you finally use your brain. I could kiss you right now…in fact.” You said as you moved his head to press a peck on his lips, “I just bought a new strap.” You stated.

Rafayel rolled his eyes, his face still scarlet, “You’re the absolute worst.” He finally said, making you chuckle.

“And yet here we are, with you still helplessly in love with me.” You murmur, glad he finally figured your line of questioning out.

“Whatever you say, little pearl.” He murmured.

I regret absolutely nothing. In fact, I'm happy I did this. The world needs more chaos and I am here to deliver when I can. Also someone tell me why the first thing I do when my wrists are better is write this?

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.

There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).

ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.

Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.

It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is. 

That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.

One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.

"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.

You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.

Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.

You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.

"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.

He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.

"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.

He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."

Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.

(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)

You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.

A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.

"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."

Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.

It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.

He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.

"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."

His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"

Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.

"I'm... sorry?"

"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."

For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.

Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.

Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.

"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.

"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.

He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"

Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.

"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"

You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"

"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."

You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."

"Excited for wh-"

Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.

"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."

Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"

You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.

"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.

"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.

"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?

You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?

You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"

"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.

He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"

Fuck.

One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.

"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.

"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?

Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.

"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.

With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.

Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.

He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

random messages from the tarot

so, this is a short pac reading with no theme, anything essencial will show up on this readings. feel free to pick more than one pile <3

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

images from pinterest and dividers by @fairytopea

꒰ঌ ✦ scroll down for the results ໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁ Masterpost and Tarot Menu ❁༺ ˎˊ-

*˚‧͙✧ PILE ONE ✧‧͙⁺*

During this very moment of your life, you need to stop expecting good fortune and luck to be on your side when you are thinking about taking any kind of new direction. It’s understandable that hope might be a great motivator for you, but you are limiting yourself if you’re ignoring how important are your own actions and your virtues, things that go well in your life, are not because of good luck, they go well because you did well. If you focus on developing your skills and your confidence, you will achieve a lot and actually enjoy those achievements without any sort of impostor syndrome.  Please understand that anything good that happens to you, in your case, is a reflection of what you do on your own in order to keep the abundance and the positive energy coming your way.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE TWO ✧‧͙⁺*

I get this feeling you are watching yourself detach from your own emotions and you are not sure what to do about it. When it comes to feelings of anxiety or sadness, it’s common to want to detach, or ignore them, but at some point this can happen sort of by accident, you know you’re feeling bad, but you don’t quite feel it sometimes. What I can say about this is that: try to deal with this by being deeply conscious on how and why these feelings are being ignored, don’t focus too much on what is causing them right now, but instead focus on why you are not allowing yourself to experience something completely human: feelings. Try to understand them as ways in which your mind and body communicates the needs you’re unconsciously ignoring. And please ask for help if you need to.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE THREE ✧‧͙⁺*

It’s time to stop being resentful with your past self, and /or the people who hurt you.  You’re carrying way too much baggage that is affecting your decision making skills, usually taking you to places and people that are far too similar to the situations that got you the baggage in your first place. This is a great moment to begin healing journeys aimed to allow yourself to have a deeper comprehension on your past, by taking a more objective look on it and being more understanding with your old self, more patient and comprehensive. For you, it’s necessary to see what thought are behavioural patterns are keeping you away from moving on from the past.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE FOUR ✧‧͙⁺*

You’re going to experience a lot of creative energy and fast changes soon. It’s key that you can embrace the fun yet chaotic but overall positive experiences that’ll come your way. These are not only meant to give you new perspectives and new opportunities regarding the material aspects of your life, but they’re also a manifestation of your own energy changing and attracting both positive and negative challenges. You will be put in situations where your passions will become a great source of guidance and hope, while becoming more and more present in your life. Expect new people wanting to approach you during a time of change and evolution like this, some come to help, some to test you, some will stay and others not.

hi, i'm gigi :)

i hope you enjoyed this readings and hopefully found something useful. check my masterpost if you want to know more about this blog or if you want to keep reading some more PACs. also, my bookings for personal readings are open!! so don't hesitate to take a quick look at my tarot menu if you're interested in that.

as usual, im thankful for all the good vibes on here, i hope everyone can get something out of this blog!! i'm really struggling to get consistent with posting since i prioritize my job as a tarot reader on an app and doing personal readings from here (and omg thanks to everyone who trusts me with that and thanks to everyone who books).

so yeah, thats pretty much it.

much love, gigi <3

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger

It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.

For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.

I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.

Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.

If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.

What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.

This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.

Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.

How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.

This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.

Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.

On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.

Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.

The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.

Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.

Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)

Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god

Artist

[nanamis-angel]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬! ♡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and yuji are classmates and you might have a lil crush on him. so what happens when nobara suddenly notices this and drags megumi along to "spy" on the both of you when you suddenly agree to go with yuji to the theater and watch some silly movie?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ yuji x fem!reader, fluff, chaos, overall silliness, this is honestly more about nobara being chaotic and megumi being dragged along into it. megumi is lowkey a lil hater but I love him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ because we all need a little silly jjk content after the most recent jjk leaks. also apologies for any improper grammar or misspellings, this is hardly proofread. (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y).

“So really the theme of it is love!” You watched as Yuji, your fellow classmate, desperately tried to explain the plot of Human Earth worm four to Megumi and Nobara. Their facial expressions showed that they were clearly uninterested in it.

“Sounds childish, I’d rather spend my time on something worth it.” Nobara replied. Clearly they had two separate definitions of “worth it.”

Yuji’s eyes fell on Megumi, all big and beady as if he were begging him to agree. Megumi just scratched the back of his head. “I’m not really a big movie person.” He said, looking away as to try and push off Yuji’s plea casually.

After his friends answer, Yuji had a look of defeat on his face, disappointed that no one wanted to watch the movie with him. You knew it was something that he enjoyed and you didn’t want him to feel bad or that none of his friends cared about his interests, so you spoke quickly after seeing his face.

“Uh, I’ll go see it with you.” You said, hoping that it would fix Yuji’s sad mood.

Immediately, Yuji’s face lit up. “Really?” He asked.

But before you could even answer, he grabbed your hand and started for the door. “Great! Lets go!”

You yelped as he practically dragged you along with the biggest smile on his face—completely innocently. And out the door the two of you went.

Megumi and Nobara watched the scene with confused expressions before Nobara’s changed to one of contemplation. “Huh? What’s up with you?” Megumi asked, noticing her face.

“I know for a fact [Name] doesn’t like movies like that… So why would she agree to go?” Nobara spoke her thoughts out loud as a reply, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“What are you trying to get at?” Megumi asked, slightly irritated by her cryptic reply. Perhaps he was just slightly unaware of the possibilities that Nobara seemed to have caught onto really quickly.

Nobara seemed to connect the dots in her head. “Unless… She feels bad for Itadori because she likes him and that’s why she agreed to go!” She exclaimed proudly as if she had just solved some sort of mystery.

Megumi’s facial expression turned to one of confusion—maybe even with a little bit of shock before it fell into one of unamusement. “Are you serious?” he asked at her ridiculous notion. “She could totally just be pitying him. That doesn’t mean she likes him.”

“Are you a girl?” Nobara deadpanned, her stare like daggers.

Megumi’s brows furrowed. “What? No. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Nobara crossed her arms. “Exactly, so you don’t know how women function. I can see it in her eyes, she totally likes Itadori. And now you and I are going to go spy on them and get answers!”

“Are you crazy?” Megumi asked. “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Pfft, says you.” Nobara taunted. “I’m bored and I know you are too, so let’s go! I need something exciting to happen around here!”

***

In the theater, you were awfully close to Yuji as the movie played. You had to admit the mad scientist was a little unnerving, even for you, a girl who fought curses every other day. So you found yourself instinctively latching onto Yuji’s arm and secretly wondering when the theme of “love” Yuji claimed was in the movie earlier was going to happen.

From the back of theater, Nobara was keeping her eyes fixed on the two of you towards the front. “Look, see? She’s holding on to his arm!” She whispered to Megumi.

The two of them (AKA Nobara and a very unwilling Megumi) had snuck into the theater so you and Yuji wouldn’t see them. Nobara had been paying close attention to you and Yuji the entire time in order to see any sort of affectionate exchange. Megumi, however, just blankly stared at the big screen, wondering how Yuji even enjoyed stuff like this.

Yuji chuckled as he felt your arm wrap around his in suspense. “The mad scientist is kind of crazy, isn’t he?”

You nodded your head. “Mhm, conducting experiments like that is psychotic.” You replied in a whisper. “When does the romance start?”

Yuji smiled. “Soon!” he replied.

Truly, on the inside, Yuji’s heart was absolutely soaring. Having you so close to him and so casually too—it made his heart clench. He had always had a little crush on you ever since meeting you, but out of respect for you, he never said anything.

He never wanted to make you uncomfortable or anything but knowing that you felt comfortable enough with him was making his absolute day.

Megumi had hear your voices and saw just how content Yuji looked. His brows furrowed in confusion. “It can’t mean anything. Itadori is always smiling.” He thought to himself. There was no way Nobara could be right about this… Or could she?

***

As the movie ended, you were shocked to see that the movie really was indeed about love and the main character had found love despite his unique and different circumstances. It was oddly endearing when you thought about it.

“Wow, I guess it really was about love.” You said as you and Yuji began to walk towards the exit together.

“Yeah! It was great, wasn’t it?” Yuji asked with a big smile.

You nodded and then felt your cheeks heat up as your hand brushed against his. But before you could do anything, Yuji took hold of it—his smile never fading. He had done it so casually it almost shocked you but you didn’t mind it. You averted your gaze however, not wanting him to see the embarrassed look on your face.

This was definitely not how you were expecting this to go but you didn’t mind. Besides… you had already been kinda crushing on your fellow classmate for quite some time already.

“They’re leaving!” Nobara alerted Megumi, shaking him. “Wait, are they holding hands?!”

In just a few seconds, Megumi attempted to get up from his seat and leave the aisle already and Nobara tried to push past him, trying to get a better look to see if you and Yuji were really holding hands or not. And then both of them toppled over each other onto the hard ground of the cinema.

Your head snapped over to where you could now see Megumi and Nobara on the floor. Megumi looked as if he were about to summon Mahoraga he were extremely agitated that Nobara had just sent him barreling for the floor and she looked like a caught kid the moment her eyes met yours.

Then, Yuji noticed them too. “Oh! Fushiguro, Kugisaki what are you doing here?” he asked, obliviously. “I thought neither of you wanted to come!”

Nobara rushed to her feet, scratching the back of her neck. “We changed our minds!” She lied, blurting out the words. “We just didn’t want to bother you guys!”

“Right.” Megumi gritted out as he got up and dusted himself off. He glared daggers at Nobara for a brief moment.

“Oh, well the movie was cool, right?” Yuji asked as the four of you continued to the exit. At this point, you and Nobara were counting on Megumi to answer the question.

As you walked out, you slowed to be right by Nobara. “You came to spy on me and Yuji, didn’t you?” You asked with a smug little grin.

Nobara sighed, knowing it was pointless to deny it. “Fine, you caught me. But I was so bored.” She spoke in defense of herself.

You let out a loud laugh. “And you dragged Fushiguro into this?” You snorted, wondering how she had even gotten Megumi out of the school and to the theater in the first place. Now that must’ve taken some convincing.

(Or perhaps Megumi was slightly intimidated by Nobara; which was reasonable.)

“Hey, at least I was right.” She huffed, crossing her arms. But then she looked at you with some curiosity in her eyes. “But I have to ask… when did you start taking interest in Itadori anyway? It feels like it came out of nowhere.”

“It kind of did.” You replied, your eyes set on Yuji, watching him as he walked and talked right beside Megumi. “I mean, I guess I’ve kind of liked him for a while but today was the manifestation, I suppose. He’s really sweet and he’s really passionate about the things he loves… Makes me wonder what he’d be like in a relationship.”

As your gaze was fixed upon him, Nobara could tell you were getting a little lost in your imagination and she knew exactly what that meant for you and Yuji in the next coming months.

Her look of curiosity immediately turned to a smug look and under her breath she whispered. “I was right. Take that, Fushiguro.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Winning chance

Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this one-shot of Lando winning Oscar's sister's heart. I'm thinking of doing 'Spooky Fridays' with Halloween-themed stories. What do you think?

Being Oscar Piastri’s sister meant that the paddock was as familiar to her as any childhood playground. She knew the rush of the garages, the hum of engines, the banter between engineers and drivers. It was her world, her brother’s world. But ever since Lando Norris had decided to make it his mission to occupy her life, it felt like the balance she once had was thrown out of place.

“Come on, just admit it, you had fun,” Lando grinned, standing a little too close as they walked through the McLaren motorhome.

“I didn’t,” she replied curtly, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. He had a way of always being underfoot, in the most chaotic, annoying way possible. And despite that, he somehow managed to make her heart skip every time he smiled like that. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.

“You didn’t enjoy karting with me? Not even a little?” He tilted his head, hair tousled from the helmet he’d barely bothered to fix.

“You nearly crashed into me,” she shot back.

“I didn’t. Nearly.” He winked.

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes. There it was—the charm, the endless optimism, the recklessness. Lando Norris in all his glory. And that was precisely why she couldn’t allow herself to fall for him. He was unpredictable, wild, and seemed to thrive on making her life harder. Yet every time he was near, something inside her stirred. She hated it.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, crossing her arms as they stopped near her brother’s garage. Oscar was deep in discussion with his engineer, blissfully unaware of the back-and-forth happening just a few feet away.

Lando’s grin only grew wider, and he stepped closer, his voice lowering. “And yet you keep hanging around me.”

“I’m here because of Oscar,” she corrected quickly, but even she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Lando had this magnetic pull, one she desperately wanted to ignore, but it was becoming impossible.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he teased, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than necessary. “But one day, you’re going to realize something. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her stomach flipped, and she hated how easily he got to her. With a frustrated huff, she turned on her heel and started to walk away. But she could feel him watching her, and worse, she knew he was right.

The paddock was buzzing with excitement after Lando’s victory. The orange sea of McLaren fans chanted his name, and the energy was infectious. As the celebrations raged on, she stood on the sidelines, watching Lando revel in the moment. His smile was broad, his face flushed with adrenaline, and his trophy gleamed under the lights.

He spotted her through the crowd and made his way over, still grinning like a man who had just conquered the world. “You see that?” he said, voice brimming with pride. “Winner, right here.”

She crossed her arms, smirking. “It was hard to miss. You’ve been shouting about it for the past ten minutes.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, still beaming. “Well, I think I deserve a little prize for my hard work.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You already have a trophy in your hands, Lando.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Yeah, but I like the prize standing right in front of me a whole lot more.”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly recovered, rolling her eyes to cover up how his words made her heart race. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, stepping even closer, his eyes locked on hers. “You keep coming back, don’t you?”

She wanted to push him away, to brush off his words like she always did. But today, there was something in his gaze—something real, beneath the usual playful flirting. She felt her defenses start to crack.

“Go celebrate your win,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’ve earned it.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then smiled, softer this time. “Maybe I will. But remember, I’m not giving up that easily.”

It had been weeks since Lando’s win, and somehow, he hadn’t let up. Every chance he got, he would drop some flirty remark or throw her that smile, the one that made it increasingly difficult for her to ignore how she felt.

And finally, after much internal debate, she caved.

They were back in the paddock, the race weekend in full swing, but this time, Lando was unusually quiet around her. No teasing, no playful banter. It unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

Just before the qualifying session, she found him leaning against the McLaren motorhome, his usual grin absent, replaced by something more serious.

“You’ve been quiet today,” she commented, walking up to him. “That’s not like you.”

Lando glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you needed a break from my ‘chaos,’ as you like to call it.”

She laughed softly, though something inside her twisted. The teasing, the flirtations—she had missed it, more than she should have. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop pretending she didn’t feel anything.

“Lando,” she started, nerves creeping into her voice, “about that prize you mentioned…”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What about it?”

“I was thinking,” she continued, trying to sound nonchalant, “maybe I could finally give you a shot. Just one. Don’t make me regret it.”

Lando’s face lit up in a way she hadn’t seen before. It was pure, unfiltered excitement, like he had just won another race. “Wait, are you saying—”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” she interrupted, fighting a smile.

“So…a date?” he confirmed, stepping forward, eyes locked on hers.

She nodded, feeling her heart race at the idea. “One date.”

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, his grin returning full force. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Just don’t be late,” she added, trying to keep her composure.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, winking. And for the first time, she felt the excitement she had been pushing down for so long finally surface. Maybe this chaos was exactly what she needed.

[dollishbabess]

your writing is literally so underrated, I love how you write reader as a actual person and not babyish ilyy, ALSOO when are you gonna write for tim and Damian and Bruce you only write for Jason mostly 😭, but write them maybe like a tim fic or hcs? <3!

TIM DRAKE DATING HCS! - dollish

A/n: actually, stay tuned for October for my romtober series which each batboy (except Bruce) has a week and fic prompts!! And also tysm I try, I don’t like personally how y/n is written either too badass or either too soft either so I understand🩷

1. Midnight Research Sessions Tim loves to pull all-nighters, and when dating, he often invites you to join him. These sessions aren't just about crime-solving; he includes random deep dives into shared interests or new topics. It's his way of showing that he wants to connect with you on multiple levels, valuing the bond that comes from exploring knowledge together.

2. Organizational Obsession Tim's meticulous organization skills extend into the relationship. He keeps a digital archive of your favorite things music, books, random facts you've mentioned so he never forgets even the smallest details. It's his way of making you feel seen and valued, ensuring that no part of you is ever overlooked.

3.Themed Date Nights Tim is surprisingly creative when it comes to planning dates. He organizes intricate, themed adventures that often tie back to his detective skills like treasure hunts or escape room-style challenges. He loves putting in the effort to make every moment special because he believes that shared experiences create the best memories.

4. Incorporating Tech into Romance As someone who's always around technology, Tim uses it to his advantage in romantic gestures. He might design a personalized app just for the two of you, where you can leave secret messages or keep track of your favorite moments together. It’s his way of expressing love through what he's naturally skilled at.

5. Sudden “You’re Safe” Hugs Whenever he’s been busy with a mission or stressed, Tim has a habit of hugging you out of nowhere. It’s his silent reassurance to himself that you’re okay, and he didn’t miss out on spending another moment with you. Given how much he’s lost in his life, these hugs are his way of grounding himself in the present with someone he loves.

6. Comfort in Chaos Tim can be a bit of a workaholic, but when you’re around, he always makes room for you in his chaotic schedule, whether it’s inviting you to hang out while he’s deep in case files or finding time to text you between missions. To him, having you nearby in the midst of his chaos is a reminder that there’s something good waiting for him outside of work.

7. Endearing Rambling Tim tends to go off on passionate tangents about things he loves, and it often ends up being one of the ways he shows affection. He wants you to understand his world, and he feels safe enough to share every little thought with you, even if he knows he might be rambling.

8. The Hoodie Collector As someone who wears hoodies often, Tim always lets you borrow his, and he secretly loves seeing you in them. Over time, he starts leaving his hoodies at your place on purpose, subtly marking his presence in your life. It’s a simple but intimate way for him to feel connected to you, even when he’s not around.

9. Late-Night Coffee Runs Tim has an odd sleep schedule, and sometimes he’ll take you out for spontaneous coffee runs in the middle of the night. These trips aren’t just about caffeine it’s his way of escaping the pressures of being a hero, finding solace in mundane moments with you, even though he prefers energy drinks but it’s more “aesthetic” for coffee dates yk?

10. Gentle Wake-Up Calls Knowing that he often wakes up early or has inconsistent sleep patterns, Tim takes pride in waking you up gently with a kiss on the forehead or by playing your favorite song. It’s his small way of making your mornings brighter and ensuring that he’s the first one to greet you at the start of each day because he knows how hard it is to wake up (himself personally for Mr. Doesn’t sleep)

11. Intellectual Challenges Tim loves a good intellectual debate, and he often initiates them with you to see things from your perspective. He doesn’t just want someone who agrees with him; he wants someone who can challenge him, and it’s his way of showing that he respects and admires your intelligence.

12. Hidden Love Notes Even though he’s not overly sentimental, Tim is known to leave little post-it notes or encrypted messages for you to find. They range from sweet nothings to random jokes or clues for a mini-puzzle he’s set up for you, showing that he’s thinking about you even in his busiest moments, he personally used to write fake love notes and throw them around school so people would find it and just create drama PROBLEMATIC KING!💜

13. Training Partner Tim appreciates someone who can keep up with him, so he loves having you as his training partner. It’s not just about staying fit it’s his way of ensuring that you can take care of yourself and that he can trust you to handle danger if it ever comes your way.

14. Silent Staring Sometimes, Tim just stares at you without saying a word, especially when he’s exhausted. It’s not that he’s spacing out; he’s just soaking in your presence, finding comfort in the fact that you’re there, and it reminds him that there’s more to life than constant problem-solving, but Bruce will just stare at you with no shame and will just STARE at you directly which is a bit uncomfortable sometimes.

15. Endearing Awkwardness Tim can be awkward with expressing emotions, but he tries so hard when he’s with you. He might stumble over words or make awkward jokes, but it’s his genuine effort to be vulnerable that makes these moments special. He believes that you deserve all of him, even the parts that aren’t as polished or perfect.

Second divider @cafekitsune, DO NOT TRANSLATE OR PUT ON A DIFFERENT PLATFORM, this is @dollishbabess work!

[tinydefector]

*careless whispers playing* swerve: so this one’s part of a human mating ritual. It’s sad, cliche melody and themes make nearby humans pitty the performer and assume they get none. The dim lighting means the humans can’t tell it’s not night time, and makes them more aroused.

-bumpinSUV

Caught out - Human Effects

Warnings: unrestricted internet access

Word count 2.3k

I had so much fun doing this and working it into the human effects series so I hope you enjoy it. Bumpin, also I can't wait to do the other one you sent in.

Masterlist

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Rodimus pinches the bridge of his nasal ridge as he vents loudly. "Swerve, for the last time, that song is not actually part of human mating rituals. Please it's so stupid" he exclaims in annoyance. Since they got the music set so the crew could listen to the collective Spotify on the human crews request, Swerve had been raving about the song Careless Whispers.  

Meanwhile Whirl is cackling, their one optic on the mini-bot as he sways ridiculously to the music. "Aww c'mon Roddy let Swerve have his fun! I think it's working, look, those humans will definitely feel sorry for ol' Sweeeevy." The helimech cackles. 

Swerve ignores them, enthusiastically crooning along at the top of his vocalizer. "Oh I...I'm never gonna dance again... guilty feet have got no rhythm!" He attempts a crude mimicry of human hip shaking that has several crewmembers watch in mixed emotion.

Rubbing his chevron tiredly, Rodimus cuts in. "Swerve. Buddy. For your own good, please shut it off before the humans see you making an aft of yourself, plus I know for a fact that Daniel would start withering into a husk if he heard that song." 

Whirl creases with laughter at the minibot's antics as Rodimus shakes his helm, wondering if he can find the will to survive another one of Swerve's "cultural exchanges." 

Megatron walks in looking rather tired and ready for a drink when his optics land on Whirl and Rodimus. He pauses in the doorway as the chaotic scene before him registers - Whirl cackling hysterically as always, Rodimus with an expression of long-suffering exasperation, and Swerve... dancing? to some strange organic music. One eyebrow plate arches high, and the barest ghost of a bemused smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. 

"I leave you all alone for a few cycles and return to find the Lost Light devolved into complete anarchy, it seems." His rumbling voice cuts through the din, Whirl just slams his claws on the table as they maniacally laugh, not an ounce of shame. Rodimus heaves a sigh. "Swerve was just...educating us on human courting rituals. Apparently that song is a big part of it. Which I would argue is a lie! " 

Megatron's other brow joins the first. He regards the tiny bartender with an air of dry amusement. "Is that so. Well, carry on by all means. we wouldn't want to disrupt such... illuminating cultural exchange. But do try to keep the debauchery contained, yes? There are still functioning mechs aboard this ship." 

With that and a brief nod to Rodimus, signalling the matter settled, Megatron turns on heel striding purposefully toward a table hidden in a corner so he doesn't have to deal with the chaos. He requires nothing less than a stiff drink After the cycle.

Rodimus, on the other hand, looks close to joining Whirl in hysterics - though from frustration rather than mirth. One hand grips his audial fins tightly as if to block out the noise. "Swerve, please, for the love of Primus, stop. You are NOT courting humans like that!" 

At that moment Whirl's gazing gaze Shifts to Rodimus. “ I don't see you getting any Captain,  what makes you think you know what the fleshies like, don't listen to him Swerve” calls back loudly Before Rodimus decides he's had enough. throwing his servos up. "Ugh, forget it. I'm joining Megatron for engex, have fun." And with that, he stalks away muttering about finding more suitable crew members to share drinks with. 

But Whirl is having too much fun, falling over themself in mirth. "Go Swervy go! Shake that fine aft, get you some Earth tail! Yeaaah get it!" His exuberant hollers only encourage the bartender, who throws himself with renewed vigour into his poor approximation of human dancing. 

After Swerve's crude example of a dance other bots begin inquiry about it. Some are interested in learning about humans. "But where did you learn about Swerve,  I need sources" Skids states while his optics narrow on Swerve. Nigthbeat sat off to the side not paying much attention. As Tailgate, Nautica and Skids inquired for more information, they doubted he had asked any of the human crew members on ship about such a thing, plus it had been a while since the ambassador or any of the crew had been to the bar recently. 

Swerve shifts nervously under the intense gazes boring into him from Skids and the others. His visor brightens as he attempts a shrug. "Oh you know, around...the holoweb. Places, the internet"

Skids narrows his optics further. "Uh huh. And when exactly were you surfing the human internet from the Lost Light?" He crosses his arms, expression clearly stating he isn't buying Swerve's story. 

Tailgate tilts his head curiously. "But didn't you say you learned it from a human, I don't think they'd teach dancing like THAT..." 

A sly grin spreads across Nautica's faceplates. "Unless...were you watching those strange organic videos? What were they called again - tiktoks?" 

Swerve visibly blanches, waving his arms wildly. "Wh-what? No no, of course not! I would never -" 

But Cyclonus, who has been silently observing, speaks up then with quiet certainty. "He's lying. He has had no contact with humans outside of when they come to the bar, he hasn't talked with any of them except Nadia on the rare occasion” The bartender deflates completely as amused chuckles rise up around him. Nautica pats his shoulder kindly. He had been called out for not really talking with the crew, but in his defence he didn't know how to socialise with them outside of serving drinks. 

 "It's okay Swerve, next time just acutely get your information from a human, doubt the ambassador would like you going around spreading misinformation" 

After a moment of processing Rodimus looks up in shock. "Wait a klik We have access to the human internet!?" He asked in shock, when had that happened who set it up and why wasn't he informed. Beside him, Megatron pinches the bridge of his noseplate wearily. "I had hoped to keep that information need-to-know, Rodimus. But yes, Brainstorm installed a transfer several deca-cycles ago to...broaden cultural understanding, and make it easier for a cross line from the holo to the internet so information trade was easier." 

Skids pipes up helpfully. "I believe his exact words were 'for science!', but we all know he just wanted to look at more theories about humans and their social behaviour. Fleshie fragger!." He sings out the last part which makes some of the other mechs laugh. 

Tailgate gasps excitedly. "Ooh, that's really cool, I wanna see the cute Earth pets!" It makes Cyclonus chuckle softly as he watches the smaller bots' optics widen in wonder. 

Rodimus throws his servos up. "Why am I always the last to know about these things?! As Captain I should be informed of any new ship systems or tech!" He grumbles, directing a half-hearted glare at Megatron. The former warlord merely sips his drink placidly. "Think of it as a learning experience in responsible leadership, Rodimus. If you would have read the highlighted parts of the report like i had asked you would have seen that we did this installation"

Rodimus grumbles to him as he takes another sip of his own drink, still glaring at Megatron over being called out on his neglect of the reports, he had been doing more reading of them but it did get to a point where he wanted to slam his helm into a wall.  

It makes Sunstreaker freeze for a moment, realising that it meant the humans most likely had access to their own sites. "Wait if we can access their internet does that mean they now also have access to our holoweb, sites and forums?" He asked rather worriedly, Silence falls over the group as Sunstreaker's question sinks in, optics widening in collective horror. they all know exactly the kind of classified, compromising or just plain embarrassing things lurking on Cybertronian networks. 

Hound is the first to break the quiet. "Primus, can you imagine if the humans found some of the stuff posted on ProwlFanForums? Or some of the theories on WireTap, Commlink?" 

Blaster groans, faceplates pale. "My holovids from Vos Carnival are still online! If they find those videos Primus..." He wasn't expecting this but if one of the humans found it, one of the crew they would know he had shown them a few photos of his cassettes and it wouldn't be hard to put too and too together.  

Rewind sits back watching the chaos in amusement. “It be a shame if they saw how many of you are interface Feral scrapers” he teases which makes even more bots panic. 

“Frag, frag, frag, I need to delete my profiles, I never existed!” 

“Oh Primus, of any of the thirteen listening,  please erase myself”   

“No, no, they can't know about those sites can that, they wouldn't think to look that far!” 

 

Rodimus hurriedly waves his servos. "Alright everyone stay calm! We'll get Brainstorm on containment ASAP. In the meantime everybody delete and scrub everything questionable from your personal archives. I mean it!"

A flurry of typing ensues as bots scramble to protect their digital dignity. Only Megatron seems unfazed, a corner of his mouth quirked in dark amusement. "Humans have proven resourceful. I suspect they've seen far worse than what little dirt we may have to offer..." 

Rodimus shoots Megatron a glare. "Thanks, that's really reassuring Megsy." The chaos continues as a new threat looms for the Cybertronian populace - human seeing their thoughts, questions and information.   

Megatron turns an optic on the fretting collection of Mech's, interest piqued. "So tell me, precisely what sorts of... delicate matters have you been discussing regarding humans?" 

The bots abruptly find other places to look, fields filled with nerves and not-so-subtle guilt. Trailbreaker coughs awkwardly. "Youknowjust,casualobservationsandcuriositiesSir." 

Rodimus, clearly wishing to be anywhere but here, attempts distraction. "It's not important Megs, let's just focus on containment -" But Megatron is not so easily deterred. His crimson gaze settles on Blaster, who shifts stiffly. "I do believe there was mention of a particularly risqué forum... One addressing compatibility between our species, was it not?" 

Blaster tries to look anywhere but Megatron, clearly feeling uncomfortable under the ex warlords stare. “It was merely an... academic discussion of theoretical interspecies relations." Suddenly Whirl howls with laughter. "Oh Primus you should see the threads about 'interface ports vs human orifices'! They go on for orns!" It makes all the bots helms snap to the helimech.  “SHUT UP WHIRL!” A collective yell comes from the panicked Mech's. 

A collective groan arises as Megatron rolls his optics, he had been expecting something else but this seemed quite tame compared to what he was expecting. After all, he had seen what floats around on the human internet and had the unfortunate experience of coming across a lot of stuff. In the end the human Ambassador had been rather embarrassed and apologetic over it. 

Megatron can't help but let out an amused huff of ventilation at the collective embarrassment of the Autobots. Clearly they had yet to witness the depths humanity plunged into given anonymity and technology. "Trust me when I say your little... theoretical discussions would barely cause a ripple among humans. I have borne witness to the unfiltered fleshling internet, and what I glimpsed there was far more depraved." He recalls with bemusement the memory file of Ambassador mortified face.

Skids eyes him curiously. "Really? What kind of thing could be worse than interfacing forums?" He grumbles dragging his servos down his faceplate. "Let's just say their proclivities extend far beyond our frames. Entire databases dedicated to the debasement and degradation of simulated strangers. Acts I'd not care to repeat lest they scorch even my memory banks." 

The collection of Autobots, Decepticons and neutrals recoil in mingled horror and fascination. Whirl cackles gleefully. "And to think we thought WE were deviants! Humans have us beat tenfold!"

Rodimus shudders violently. "Okay deleting that file dump NOW before it ends up in human hands." 

Megatron turns to Swerve. "I would recommend actually looking up the song before trying to perform, it isn't what you believe, and under no circumstances is anyone allowed to play the song Cbat. I refuse to be responsible for what happens by cybertronian stupidity" he explains Megatron pins Swerve with a stern glare, ensuring his message has been received. The tiny bot nods frantically, clearly intimidated. Satisfied, Megatron turns on a heel striding from the bar, Autobots parting hastily to avoid collision with the imposing warlord. 

No sooner does he exit than there are shouts and whoops of laughter from within. Whirl's distinct cackle rises over the din, triumphant and slightly manic. "Oh sweet Primus, humans are WAY more glitchy than I even dared dream! Swerve, you've gotta see this slag, they call it the 'CBAT Incident'!". 

“Frag Whirl dont you ever listen to what anyone says!” Nautica huffs as she tries to make herself seem not intrigue in hearing about the story.

__

“ Hey Millian come take a look at this” Nadia coos tho her friend. The Swed turns and makes their way over to have a look at what Nadia was looking through. “Is, is that a Cybertronian human fucker poll!?” They state in shock only to start wheezing in amusement. 

“Oh you know it Sweetheart, but wait it gets better, seems the bots didn't check to make sure their personal files didn't transfer when we did the Interstellar holo/internet upgrade and by Allah is it juicy” she hums to Millian who quickly sits down eyes glued To the screen. 

“Does anyone else know about this yet?” Millian asked in delight. “Not to my knowledge,  I've been enjoying myself making a little QNA blog for bots to ask questions about humans, and boy has it been fun giving miss information to them.” She flashes Millian a smile while in turn laughs. 

“Oh I'm so down for this, lets see what we can find, Nadia you have just gifted me the best presents ever, I'm about to have a field day reading through these” they press a quick kiss to the side of her face before quickly typing away looking throight the multitude of different groups and forum's they can find. 

________

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