#i do feel like this comes across as an alien trying to figure out how human attraction works. i promise i sound more normal about women

[batsplat]

let’s be shallow and objectifying, who’s the most handsome/attractive motogp rider, current grid and from the past, in your opinion??

so, an important caveat here is. I am a lesbian. obviously that means I'm the best-placed to give an accurate assessment on these matters and in many ways am the definitive authority... but there is perhaps a little bit of a tendency to just rate blokes highly if they meet the 'if you squinted could you trick yourself into thinking they were a woman' criterion. also not to get into the ins and outs of how sexuality works too much, but it does become more about persona for me when you've not got the same instant physical attraction? like how much are you into how they behave, into the vibes, into the complete package...

all of this obviously means that valentino automatically has a leg up as certified evil lesbian. everybody knows about the 125cc dyke years, but honestly if I squint I can still see it for much of his career (which btw is why personally the least attractive I think I've ever found him aren't any of the haircuts that everyone hates but his 2002 where he looked like 'just some guy'). shout out to his early yamaha years, definitely could pass as a lesbian. also even when he's got the sideburns I can dirtbag lesbo him in my head. without getting too much into valentino hairstyle rankings, I do also actually like his shaved head eras, it's very lean and mean. very butch realness, if you will. he's in the mancrush territory for me like he is actually quite hot

other retired riders... there's like a very specific time period where casey looks quite nice, in his early ducati years where he's wide eyed and surly and has a good camera smile but is also kinda grumpy a lot of the time. not necessarily attractive but sort of like a doe? skittish. like you kinda want to pat him on the shoulder and tell him to chill out? I think his face is quite nice to look at, but it kinda fades when he goes to honda and falls prey to 'just some guy' syndrome. he looks quite nice post retirement though, *gestures vaguely* rugged but in a nice way. I'm struggling to think of a single other retired rider I find attractive... chris vermeulen in the suzuki leathers looked kinda appealing actually. pre-valentino the sport really was 'just some guy' all the way unfortunately... maybe crivi deserves a shout out

from the current grid... uh. there's some guys I know are objectively attractive but also do nothing for me 99% of the time. marc does sometimes fall into this category unfortunately, like he's got a very compelling face but it's also too perfect? he does more for me these days!! a few more lines, bags under the eyes and all that... back in the day he did just look too much like a cross between a barbie doll and a literal toddler. I WILL SAY he's deeply attractive specifically at misano 2019 when he's got that massive grin while being booed (jerez 2005 important sister moment where valentino looks fantastic too). in general, every time he looks a bit psychotic I go 'yeah I get it' I think? like the motogp unlimited moment where joan is kinda terrified of him and marc looks like he's trying to figure out whether he can muster the energy to eat him, that really makes me go 'OH yeah now I understand'. luca I think is also clearly good looking, but again just a bit too much, he's very ooh look I'm a walking sculpture, good for him and all but also too much. I don't think pecco is attractive, but also his sister clearly does just look like the female version of him and she's INCREDIBLY hot, 12/10 girl call me, so I guess pecco probably is too? might do more for me if he got rid of the facial hair, but he does look quite... idk, soft, like I'd pat him on the head. aleix has a very firm jaw, he can definitely get it. also could be a lesbian without too little adjustment. not that this is the metric, but just saying! uh... fabio looks quite nice? when he had the bisexual leathers earlier this season he moved me, also he's got a nice voice. vinales occasionally has his moments, but it really depends on what he's doing with his hair and facial hair situation at any given time. um. that's it

[lilreidgirl]

Perfect

Summary: You`re insecure and your boyfriend, Spencer, thinks the absolute world of you, he trys everything to make you see what he sees.

Warnings: fem!reader, insecure reader, bad body image, comparing to fictional charecters, kissing, hurt/comfort?, not proof read, if i forgot anything; let me know, English is not my first language

WC: ~1k

A/N: I won`t be posting for about the next two weeks cause i have three exams, once exam season finally ends, Ill be able to post my many ideas that just seem to keep on coming. Until then, here`s a short Spence hurt/comfort fic MWAH

Perfect.

A word that feels as foreign to me as an alien language. It’s something I’m definitely not. No one is perfect, of course. But I feel like I’m standing several miles farther from it than most.

Spencer calls me a lot of things: beautiful, pretty, cute, smart, hot, exquisite, funny, tantalizing, sexy, insatiable. The list is endless. If it’s complimentary, he’s said it at some point.

Except perfect.

Spencer is a man of science and logic, and logic dictates that perfection doesn’t exist. It’s an unattainable ideal, a concept too flawless to have a place in a messy world like ours. And yet, standing next to him—this near-perfect person—I feel the ache of falling so much shorter than the mark.

There are people, though, who seem to come dangerously close.

One of the many things I love about Spencer is his love for books. He reads endlessly, often with the same devotion he gives to solving puzzles or understanding the human mind. He’ll bury himself in stories until his eyes droop, refusing to let fatigue stop him from finishing just one more chapter. And I know the women in those books, how they’re described: Silky hair, impossibly soft skin, hypnotic eyes, lips meant to be kissed, figures sculpted to perfection, and smiles bright enough to light up the darkest corners.

That’s what perfection looks like, isn’t it?

It’s certainly not me.

I see myself every day in the mirror. No silky hair here—just strands that seem to have their own rebellious personality, refusing to fall in place no matter what I do. My skin? Far from flawless. My eyes? Ordinary, nothing mesmerizing about them. My lips are… lips. Not the kind poets write about. My body? Just a body. Functional. Unremarkable. My smile doesn’t light up rooms; at most, it’s enough to convey, Hi, I’m friendly, please don’t ask me for directions.

Yet somehow, here I am, dating Spencer Reid—a man who feels carved by the hands of something divine. It’s almost painful, how unfairly beautiful he is. I’ve searched for his flaws, scoured every inch of his personality, his quirks, his habits. Nothing. If they’re there, they’re too small for me to see. He’s just… him. Perfect in all the ways that I’m not.

Two soft knocks on the door break me out of my spiraling thoughts. They’re gentle yet deliberate, spaced so perfectly it feels like they were timed with precision. Of course, they were. This is Spencer we’re talking about. Even his knocks are perfect.

I drag myself toward the door, feeling the weight of my imperfections in every step. My fingers fidget with the hem of my sweater as I go. It’s oversized and rumpled, the fabric hanging well past my wrists. My sweatpants cling stubbornly to my thighs but sag around my ankles. I’m a mess, right down to the fluffy socks that glide across the floor I haven’t bothered to clean in three weeks.

When I open the door, the sight of him steals my breath as it always does. Spencer.

His hair is perfectly disheveled, a chaotic tumble of curls that somehow looks intentional. His features are sharp, striking, and utterly unfair. His eyes hold the kind of depth that makes you feel like he sees every part of you, even the parts you’d rather keep hidden.

“Hi,” he says, his voice soft and warm, and that smile—the one that makes me feel like I’m standing in the sun—graces his lips.

“Hey,” I manage, though my voice feels embarrassingly small in comparison.

“I missed you so much,” he says, stepping inside before I can respond. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a hug that feels like home. He lifts me slightly, spinning us in a slow circle, and I can’t help but laugh softly at the gesture.

“Me too,” I whisper, the words barely audible as my lips brush against his neck. When he sets me down, I press a kiss to his lips. It’s brief but firm, enough to feel the spark between us ignite.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes roaming my face. His pupils are wide, the dim light of my apartment making them expand until they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks at me like I’m something precious, something worth studying and memorizing.

“God,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with something I can’t quite name. “You’re perfect.”

The air leaves my lungs. For a moment, it feels like the world has tilted on its axis. I open my mouth to respond, but the words won’t come. My thoughts are spinning, but all I can focus on is him, standing here, calling me perfect.

Could perfection exist after all? Maybe it does. Maybe it’s right here in front of me, holding me, looking at me like I’m something extraordinary.

Or maybe perfection isn’t about appearances. Maybe it’s about this feeling—this warmth that spreads through me whenever Spencer is near. Maybe it’s about the way he sees me, flaws and all, and still calls me something I never thought I could be.

Perfect. That’s him.

Perfect. The word he used to describe me.

Perfect. The way I feel, despite my imperfections, whenever I’m with him.

I blink back the tears threatening to spill, a soft laugh escaping my lips as I finally find my voice. “Mm… so are you,” I whisper, leaning into him as his arms tighten around me.

And in that moment, I believe it. I believe that maybe, just maybe, perfection isn’t about being flawless. Maybe it’s about being loved by someone who makes you feel like you are.

@emma-e-a

[storiesforallfandoms]

i'd find you in any life ~ eric; a quiet place day one

word count: 3614

request?: no

description: in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

pairing: eric x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, spoilers for aqpdo, mentions of death, mentions of the quiet place aliens, end of the world type beat

masterlist (one, two, three)

Day One

The little bell over the door chimed to signal the first customer she'd seen in nearly an hour. She stifled an eye roll and bookmarked her novel, only to find it was her favorite customer.

"Hey Eric!"

Eric smiled at her. She was glad to be leaning against the counter because his smile never failed to make her weak in the knees.

"Working hard, or hardly working?" Eric asked, mirroring her leaning position across from her.

"Oh, very clearly working hard," she responded, gesturing to her book. "I'm almost finished my book."

"Very hard work indeed."

(Y/N) chuckled. "Want your usual?"

"Of course. And one of those delicious looking chocolate chip muffins."

(Y/N) playfully salted and went to make Eric's usual coffee order.

Eric had been coming to the coffee shop (Y/N) worked at for months now. He had came in first one morning before one of his classes, in a rush and asking her to make him anything with caffeine as quickly as she could. She quickly made him a coffee and he threw a $20 bill at her, telling her to keep the change. He came back the next day to thank her, and to tell her it was the best coffee he ever had. She made him another and insisted it was on the house.

It was the start of Eric being a regular customer, as well as being the start of his and (Y/N)'s friendship.

Eric watched her work to make his coffee. "You know, one of these days I'll figure out what you do to make such good coffee."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's just coffee! I don't even do anything special with it."

"But it's the best coffee I've had! I can't even make coffee this good."

"I make it with love."

She quickly turned away to pretend she was making his coffee. Really, she was trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted it.

Of course (Y/N) had a crush on Eric. You'd be crazy not to. On a surface level, he was extremely handsome. He had the biggest, brownest eyes she had ever seen, the prettiest face, and a smile that made her feel like she was flying. Not to mention that British accent of his, which was way too easy to fall for. And then she got to know him and she found herself falling even deeper in love with his personality. He was the sweetest person she had ever met. She'd be crazy not to develop feelings for him.

The question then, she knew, was why did she never tell Eric how she felt about him?

As kind as Eric was, and as much as she considered him a friend, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Eric was in New York to go to law school. He was going to be a big lawyer, make lots of money and be successful. (Y/N), on the other hand, was in her 20s working in a coffee shop, with no prospects for the future. She didn't know what she wanted in life, but she knew Eric likely wouldn't be a part of it. It was best for him, even if it hurt her.

She poured his coffee into a take away cup and bagged the muffin he asked for. She could barely look at him as she rang in his order. He was looking at her with those big, brown eyes. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she did.

"Are you on your way to class?" she asked as she took his payment.

"Not for another hour and a half," he replied. "Had to come down to get my coffee first, and was hoping you weren't too busy so I could hang out for a bit."

(Y/N) couldn't fight the smile on her face. "I guess I won't kick you out for loitering."

"As long as I don't get you in trouble."

She scoffed. "Please, you're a paying customer. There's nothing my manager can get upset about. Not that he ever shows up anyways."

Eric paid for his order, and as (Y/N) was getting his change he pulled another $20 bill from his wallet and put it into the tip jar next to the register. (Y/N)'s eyes widened. She grabbed the bill and tried to give it back to Eric.

"That's your tip," he said.

"It's too much, Eric! Just give me your change!"

He shook his head. "You deserve it. I told you, you make the best coffee I've ever had. Not to mention the coffee comes with a side of friendship with a wonderful person."

She tried not to let her smile falter at the word "friends". She knew that's all they were. It was her choice to keep her secrets a secret.

Eric hung around long enough to eat his muffin and drink about half of his coffee. It wasn't until another customer finally came in that they both realized the time and he had to go. (Y/N) said goodbye and Eric promised to come back again the next day. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her new customer.

Soon, the shop was empty again and (Y/N) found herself missing Eric's presence. Despite being friends, they had yet to exchange phone numbers. Eric had found (Y/N) on social media and asked her if it was okay for him to follow and message her, which of course she said yes. They had messaged back and forth on there, but there was something more intimate about asking for his phone number. Maybe she was just overthinking that. They were already friends, they already spoke outside of when he came to the shop. What harm was there in asking for his number to text whenever they wanted to, and not just when they had internet?

That's it, she thought. I'll do it tomorrow.

(Y/N) was content with her decision, smiling to herself as she was cleaning the coffee machine, when she heard a commotion outside. Through the shop window she could see a crowd forming. She stepped up to the window to see everyone looking at the sky. She followed their gazes to see streaks of light falling from the sky. She thought it was a meteor shower at first, but there was something about it that made her feel off. Like it wasn't just a few space rocks passing over Earth.

She noticed one beam of light was coming closer. Not exactly at her specifically, but close enough for it to be concerning. The crowd in front of the shop suddenly started to move, some of them in a panicked manner. (Y/N) backed away from the window, planning to take cover however she could, but she was too late. There was the sound of an impact a few streets over, followed by rumbling of an aftershock that eventually reached the shop. The last thing (Y/N) remembered was the shop windows exploding and her being thrown back, hitting her head on a nearby table and knocking her out.

~~~~~~

Day 89

"There's a boat coming!"

Eric didn't usually care much to see who was arriving at the island. He was always glad to know that other people had heard and figured out Henri's code to get to safety, but he knew that whoever was coming was not someone for him. He had lost everyone during those first few days - his parents (not that it was ever confirmed, but he knew the likeliness was slim and he'd never get a real confirmation he was sure), Sam.

(Y/N).

There was no reason for him to go watch as new survivors were welcomed to the island, like so many of the others did.

But that day, he was sat outside in the sun eating with Frodo when the call came. Frodo's ears had perked up and, before Eric could stop him, the black and white feline had taken off towards the beach. Eric swore under his breath and got up to follow.

"Even the damn cat is a noisy bugger," Eric muttered to himself.

There was already a small crowd huddled to watch as the small boat coasted onto the island. Henri and a few others were already there, pulling the boat to shore and helping the small handful of survivors off. He was speaking to the first person who had gotten off, a man who shared the same expression that everyone did when they first got there - terror. The confusion and fear of Henri speaking always got to them first, and often times people wouldn't believe Henri when he said that the aliens couldn't reach them because they couldn't survive the water.

Eric was looking for Frodo more than he was paying attention to whoever was getting off the boat. The cat was moving around the people in his way so smoothly, meanwhile Eric had to bump and push his way past everyone, mumbling an apology as he went.

Frodo suddenly ran towards the boat as another person got off. Eric broke through the crowd and chased after Frodo, an apology already on the tip of his tongue for whoever Frodo had ran up to. But the words died before they could come out as he watched the person scoops Frodo up in her arms and look for whoever owned him, her eyes locking on Eric immediately.

"Eric?"

"(Y/N)?"

He was moving before he realized it, his arms around (Y/N) to pull her into a hug. Tears were forming in his eyes as he held her, making sure that she was actually real and not a figment of his imagination.

Frodo grumbled, breaking them apart. He jumped down from (Y/N)'s arms and sat looking between them.

"Is he yours?" she asked.

"Technically yes. He belonged to someone else before, but..." He stopped, the familiar ache in his chest from whenever he thought about Sam. "But he's mine, now."

(Y/N) nodded. She seemed to understand. They had all gone through the same hell, all lost someone. It was hard not to understand.

"Bring her up," Henri said, suddenly appearing next to the two of them. That's when Eric realized that everyone was making their way back to the community. "Unless you both want to keep standing here all day."

Eric shook his head. "No, sorry. (Y/N), come with me."

(Y/N) was shocked upon seeing the community of houses and people, as most survivors are. They were so used to the wreckage that the aliens caused, and all the fear that drove so many into silence, that seeing all these well built houses, and seeing people talking and living without fear, was foreign.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Eric asked (Y/N). "Or showered? Or had water?"

"A long time," (Y/N) responded to all three questions.

Eric nodded. "I have my own place. Frodo and I were just having lunch, and there's plenty to share. I have a working shower, drinkable water."

"That all sounds perfect," she said. "Lead the way."

Eric showed her to his place. He gave her towels and told her he'd find her clean clothes from one of the other ladies in town. He tried not to linger as she stepped into the bathroom and let the shower run. She'd think he was crazy if she caught him there, debating on going into the shower with her, but it was the only thing on his mind in this moment. Well, besides the desire to kiss her senseless and never let her go again.

Eric had mourned (Y/N). Even before he met Sam and had to mourn her as well, he mourned the coffee shop girl who had became such a good friend to him; who he had loved and never told. When the invasion first started, Eric's first thought wasn't his own survival, but about if (Y/N) had gotten to safety. He had left her in the coffee shop just moments prior, and someone had been with her then, but did that person stay? Did more people come? Was there anyone there to protect her, to get her out? Had she figured out too late that the aliens were attracted to sound?

When he got on the boat to come to the island, he looked at every other survivor that was there with him. He asked around if anyone knew (Y/N), if they knew whether she was there. When they got to the island, he looked at the others who had gotten there first. She was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew of her. He had to come to terms with the fact that she was probably dead, and that made him wish he was, too.

He regretted never telling (Y/N) how he felt. He thought he had lost his chance forever, and that thought haunted him every day. He could hardly believe that she was actually here, that she had survived.

One of his neighbors was gracious enough to give him clothes for (Y/N). He left them outside the bathroom door for her, then went back outside to continue eating. He had gotten the extra food he had planned to put away as leftovers and brought it out for (Y/N) to eat, as well as gotten her a glass of water. Frodo had taken his position hunched over a can of cat food again, eating away as if he were the one who was starved.

(Y/N) came out a few minutes later, her wet hair clinging to her and looking more refreshed. She still looked exhausted, but he knew how long it would take to really get any rest after what she had experienced.

She sat down next to him and picked up the food he had waiting for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," he responded. "You served me for quite some time. I think it's only fair I finally repay the favor."

She smiled, and he was brought back to every time he visited her coffee shop and was able to make her smile at something he said. It had always been such an accomplishment to him.

They ate in silence for some time. (Y/N) tried to savor the food, but she was so hungry that she couldn't help but scarf so much of it down so quickly. Eric couldn't help but watch her. He was still terrified that she'd suddenly disappear and he'd realize this was all just a dream.

"I can't believe you're here," he said before he could stop himself.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought..."

"Me too."

She moved her plate aside and turned her body so that she was facing him. "What happened that day?"

"I was in the tube - the subway - and suddenly there was all this shaking and rumbling. A pipe or something burst eventually and suddenly the whole place was flooded. I was sure I was a goner, until I managed to get to a stairwell that led up into New York. That's where I first met this guy - " Eric reached over to pat Frodo. " - and I followed him to his owner. She...she's the reason I'm here."

"Did she...?"

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "She was sick. She told me she made peace with her mortality and was okay with the sacrifice so that Frodo and I could survive."

(Y/N) reached out to place her hand on Eric's. He moved it so that their fingers intertwined. If this had been months ago, he would've been more focused on the fact that he was finally holding (Y/N)'s hand.

"She sounds like a good person," (Y/N) said. "I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eric said. "What about you? What happened to you that day?"

"Well, I was at the coffee shop, as you know, and suddenly these...things...I guess the eggs? I don't know, but I watched them fall from the sky. One of them landed a few streets over from the shop and the aftershocks blew the windows out and knocked me out. When I came to, I had been rescued by Stephen, he's the one who got off the boat first. He found anyone who was still alive and brought us to this building to hide us away. He told us to keep quiet, that it was the only way for us to survive. He kept going out and searching for other survivors, or for any resources to keep us alive."

"He didn't take you to the boats?"

She shook her head. "He tried, but there was an attack when we were all trying to get there. We kind of dispersed and all ended up back in the same building. A lot of us didn't make it, and by the time we tried to get out again the boats were gone. We had no idea where they were going, or how to get there since every boat had been taken from the dock it seemed. We settled in to try and fend for ourselves, which we did until we happened to hear a song looping over the radio."

"Beyond the Sea," Eric said. "It was Henri's idea. It was a code to get more survivors to come to safety."

"It worked. It just took some time for us to follow it."

"But you're here now." Eric squeezed her hand. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I thought...I spent every day thinking about you."

"I thought about you a lot, too." There were tears in her eyes now, too. "When I woke up, the first thing I thought was worrying where you were. I wanted so badly for you to have been someone that Stephen saved, and then so much time passed and I thought..."

Eric nodded. "Me too. I really thought you were gone."

It may not have been the most tactful way to do it, but emotions were running high and Eric's brain wasn't particularly working right. He took hold of her face and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he would admit. Because he caught (Y/N) off guard, it was more teeth than lips, and he could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears on her lips.

When she pulled away almost immediately, Eric felt embarrassment wash over him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that without asking first."

To his surprise, (Y/N) moved their plates out of their way before climbing onto Eric's lap. She leaned in slower, giving him more time to register that they were going to kiss again. When her lips touched his this time, it was soft and gentle, but still needy. Like they were both making up for so much lost time, which, he guessed, they were.

They were only interrupted this time by someone yelling, "Hey! There's kids out here! Get a room!"

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling a little as she rested her forehead against Eric's.

"So, it was okay that I kissed you?" he asked.

"I would think me kissing you back was enough of an answer," she said. "But yes, it was very much okay."

"I've wanted to do that since the day after we met."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The day after?"

"Well yeah. The day we met I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to really register the fact that a beautiful woman was making me coffee."

"See, that's so funny, because I also wanted to kiss you the day we met, and every day after when you came in for coffee."

"Wait, really?" Her smile was shyer now as she nodded her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well, you were going to school to be a lawyer and you had everything going for you. I was just the girl in a coffee shop who didn't know what she was doing with her life. I thought...I thought it would be better for you if we didn't date, so that you could find someone with the same ambitions as you."

"I'm not saying this now because the world as ended, but fuck me being a lawyer. I didn't care if you were working at a coffee shop, or going to school like I was, or if you were just some homeless person on the side of the road. I loved you for who you were. I still love you for who you are."

(Y/N) was speechless. It was the words she had been longing to hear for so long, even after the world went to shit. She was convinced she was dreaming, or having some sort of alien induced hallucination. She made a mental note to pinch herself later, because if this was a dream she didn't want to wake up any time soon.

"I love you, too."

They went to kiss again, but Frodo meowed and nudged Eric's leg. He chuckled as he reached down to pet the cat. "I guess we shouldn't just be making out in broad daylight after already being yelled at once."

"I suppose not," (Y/N) said. "You know, I am awfully tired still. You should take me in to see your bed."

Eric grinned at her. "I like the way you think."

[revelboo]

Your writing is phenomenal! The way you portray each character and expand on their personalities within the Transformers universe has me hooked from the first word. I am so glad you made a blog and thank you so much for sharing your works with us!!! I’m ashamed to admit how often I come back to check and see if anything new has been posted; and I just found your blog maybe two days ago. Thank you again for writing for us all!!!!!!

Thank you for reading my silliness!

Last Night Pt 5

Bumblebee x Reader

• Little steps forward, day by day. Figuring out that questions about your day are safe. About you, less so. Wanting to ask about everything, but trying so hard to not remind you that you’re here against your will, because it upsets you. And that upsets him. But you don’t flinch away if he brushes a servo against your shoulder or lightly touches the back of your hand to get your attention anymore. Little steps. “There are other humans here, right?” You ask him and he hesitates in scrolling through topographical maps. It’s not exactly a secret, though, so he nods. “Are we allowed to see each other?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you hesitantly walk closer across the top of his desk and lay your little hands on his arm. Willingly reaching out to him for the first time as you look up at him with wide eyes. “Please?”

• Hands resting on his arm, it’s a surprise how warm he is under your palms. And he’s just staring at your hands on him, lips parted like you’ve shocked him. “I can ask,” he finally says, optics shifting to your face. Because even talking to strangers would be better than sitting here alone when he’s doing whatever secret alien things he does during the day. He’d volunteered that he was a scout, so you assume he explores. Maybe makes maps? You honestly have no idea. “Do you know what this is?” He asks and you lean against his arm to see the data pad screen.

• Freezing as you almost drape yourself across his arm, he’s afraid to move in case you realize what you’re doing and stop. It’s the most contact you’ve allowed so far and he can feel you breathing against him, the beat of your heart and your warmth. “Is that the old mine?” You ask, leveraging yourself even further on him to reach for the screen. Mimicking the gesture he uses to enlarge the image and he’s surprised you’ve been paying that much attention to him while he works. “It is. There was some sort of disaster years ago. I think they tapped into natural gas or something and blew themselves up.” Your little head turns to look up at him questioning, before you inhale, face reddening and slide off of him as if you’d just noticed what you were doing. How you were sprawled on him.

• “Energon,” he mutters as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, face hot because you were draped across his arm, butt in the air to reach the data pad screen. It’s not like he cares or is the least bit interested, but still. “We’ve been picking up traces, but haven’t been able to pin it down. But raw energon is highly reactive,” he pushes up from his desk, smacking the data pad against his palm as he paces. Energon is that glowing goop he drinks, but why would it be on Earth? You’ve never even heard of it before him. There’s no time to try to scurry away as he turns and picks you up in his hand and lifts you, doing a nauseating little twirl and laughing like an excited kid. Dizzy, you fall on your butt when he sets you back on your feet, but he’s already headed for the door, calling out over his shoulder that’ll he be back as you try to figure out what that was and why his excitement spreads warm through you, a smile pulling at your lips.

Previous

Next

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hiiii hi could i request some headcanons for Nolan and/or Allen with a small but strong s/o? Like not nearly on their level but still strong enough to pick them up if that make sense,, oh also ftm chubby reader plsssss

Nolan Grayson and Allen the Alien x strong chubby ftm reader

Headcanons

I started cheering when they buffed Allen up, because, why wouldn’t I, look at him. This is set somewhere in season 2, but before they’re locked up.

Nolan Grayson

Viltrum seems like a very cut and rough people, so things like being trans doesn’t seem like something they would have. So, when you guys started dating, there were a lot of things you would need to teach him.

It would take a while, but he would also never actually misgender you, Nolan just wouldn’t really get the concept of gender in the way it is on earth. He also wouldn’t really get why you might want to bind or get surgeries, but as long as it makes you happy, then whose he to judge.

Nolan gets really angry if somebody misgenders you maliciously. Honestly, knowing Nolan, he probably got mad even if someone did it on accident, so you would have to reel him back in before anything bad happened.

He also wouldn’t mind you being chubby. Since everyone on Viltrum are all muscular and built, being chubby would be something only seen in other species. It’s probably something viltrumites would find attractive, without ever being verbal about it, since it’s something they could never achieve themselves.

It isn’t hard to be smaller than Nolan, since he’s so tall and built. It’s also not really something Nolan cares much about, since your height doesn’t play into how he feels about you. But that’s how he feels most of your physical appearance after he gets to know you.

He would be pleasantly surprised that you could pick him up, but it wouldn’t knock him off his feet since being strong is so normal for him. He would try to see your limits though, there’s no way around that.

Allen the Alien

Unlike Nolan, Allen would know a lot about the different genders and sexualities across the galaxy, since that was probably part of his training. Sure, you might have to explain the specifics of earth, but that’s just earth in general when it comes to Allen.

Your gender or how you present yourself wouldn’t matter one bit to Allen, since he sees so many different people across the galaxy all the time. This is also because he doesn’t conform to earths standards, so you can be exactly yourself around him and Allen would never question or doubt you.

He wouldn’t cause a fight if somebody misgendered you, at least in the beginning. If they did it maliciously, then he might straighten up and give a good ol “not cool man”, but if the person starts to get physical, then Allen would shut it down.

Like your gender and how you present yourself wouldn’t matter, your weight wouldn’t matter to Allen either. As long as you are happy, he doesn’t care. Plus, you being chubby also makes you softer to cuddle, which would be a win for him.

Like Nolan, it wouldn’t be hard to be smaller than Allen, especially after he gets buffed up later on. You are far from the only person who he has to look down at, so it wouldn’t bother Allen. He would go out of his way to tease you though, just because he can.

Allen would be excited that you could carry him with ease, which just ends up with you having to carry him all the time after he figures it out. There isn’t really a reason for this, it just makes him feel loved when you do so. He would also use the knowledge that you are strong to convince you to train. Not to fight, maybe a little, but mainly to protect yourself.

[applestorms]

following the very funny take that L just speedran his feelings for light from denial to acceptance over the course of the tennis game alone, i do think that even if L was somehow aware of the fact that his feelings verged on less-platonic he wouldn't necessarily see them as being requited. or alternatively, that if they are, light is too much of a repressed freak to ever get over his own bullshit enough to make it actually happen.

like i said in my own tags, this perhaps is another anime/manga difference to me. to elaborate...

in both cases, i think it starts off mostly the same: L's interest is Piqued when he realizes KIRA might actually be a human person, with the high of that feeling hitting its peak during lind l tailor as his theories are confirmed -> L's feelings about KIRA develop/are further complicated as he starts investigating light specifically. personally, i think he starts getting Interested™ while stalking him through the cameras in their house & seeing how he acts under the mask, realizes his feelings are Developing in a way he didn't expect the more he watches, and is fully in the Annoyance/Denial stage when he's autism staring at him throughout the testing sequence (could still vary) -> he works through/accepts it by the end of the tennis game, like a kind of background process monologue, maybe capping off specifically when light beats him.

following this, it seems natural to me that there would be a period where L furthers his investigation on light as KIRA while simultaneously also kinda trying to figure out how DTF he is. he's already pretty certain about the former point so a lot of this is just checking his work, watching very carefully to see if he can push light into losing his cool again and giving himself away, which has the additional side effect of pushing his newly developed crush to the front of his brain on a regular basis through sheer necessity.

this all comes to a head w/ misa's arrest. again, at some point throughout this time frame i think L starts putting enough pieces of the Light Yagami puzzle together to start figuring out that he's either 1. not interested entirely, or 2. never gonna fucking admit anything truthful about who he actually is, ever, even to himself. perhaps the next planned step of L's approach would be to push light into telling the truth or revealing something genuine about himself period, even outside of the KIRA investigation itself, but this gets fucked up by light's little memory loss/alternation plan.

yotsuba is interesting because it obviously gets to L quite a bit, showing aspects of his character that we don't really see outright before that point. it is well known that L is a filthy little liar, and that he specifically uses his lies as a way of testing light, but i think yotsuba is when he kinda. gives up on that. in a way, light is being fully truthful during yotsuba, it's just that what he believes to be truth has been manipulated beyond what's usually humanly possible. so L gets what he wants but it's a twisted version of it, and still misses the key component that drew him towards light in the first place (KIRA).

he's grumpy, basically. his toys aren't working the way he wanted them to, so he's throwing them at the wall and demanding that they fix themselves again. as i said before, L is simultaneously incredibly alienated from (the rest of/his own) humanity and directs his entire focus on it- he's the world's greatest detective, not out of empathy or sympathy for human suffering, but because people are the most interesting/complex puzzle he's ever come across and the scale of mass murder makes his dick harder than anything else.

in a way, you could see him locking light away in this shitty little constantly watched cell/literally holding him on a handcuff leash at all times as L's attempt to recreate the feelings that started popping up while he was watching light in his house the first time, seeing the seeds of a serial murderer in his little perfect teenager pet. the most notable shift throughout all of this though is the fact that L starts telling the truth- to bring this classic panel back,

he's not bothering with the "ooo sounds like something KIRA would say," shtick now. honestly the only other time someone really gets this blunt about telling light he's KIRA to his face is near:

(think this might be my favorite near panel ever lmfao. finally found it in ch.80 =3=)

point is, L is both pissed and genuinely kind of depressed throughout most of yotsuba, or at the very least has been annoyed into spitefully shucking off all his duties cuz he doesn't wanna play the game anymore. childish, and a sore loser- just like he said.

ANYWAYS. the differences between the anime and the manga, right.

the main way this diverges is that i think L is definitely aware of his feelings in the anime. all of the evidence for this comes down to episode 25- the rain scene, the foot washing, "Have you ever told the truth once in your life?" and so on and so forth. part of this may actually follow the divergences of light's characterization between the anime and manga, but L is almost certainly talking about something that light isn't willing to admit during these scenes and it's motivating a lot of his hardest lines.

again, it's the two cases: either he's morose about the fact that his feelings are unrequited and kicking back as a final fuck you for getting pulled around for so long, or (and personally, i kinda think this is more likely) he is aware of the fact that light does like him back in that way and Supremely salty about the fact that he won't ever act on it. "It will be lonely, won't it," etc. etc. "You're gonna fucking miss me, bitch. You don't have to do this but you're going to tear us apart anyway, and I don't forgive you, never will." light is putting the game above them, and L is fucking mad about it lol.

sidenote: it's interesting that the tennis game itself kind of parallels/foreshadows L losing in this way. as i've said before, in the tags on some fucking post i don't even remember now, light knows throughout the tennis game that winning might add to his KIRA percentage (though it is admittedly still quite vague), but he chooses to go for it anyway. just can't stop himself from winning, even if it goes against him and everything he actually wants... some classic light yagami shit right there.

in the manga this is a lot less clear, specifically because we are lacking these scenes in particular. L's death just happens so goddamn quick in the manga, it rushes up and catches him by surprise basically the second he lets his guard down and stops watching light, so we don't get this same drawn out saltiness as he metaphorically bleeds out. this is not to say it isn't present entirely- much of the above analysis still applies to the manga just as much as the anime, but it is perhaps a lot more subtle to follow by the end.

honestly, that all being said, i think manga L is also a lot more likely to simply never figure his shit out when it comes to light. it's a particularly interesting part of canon to me that both of these interpretations actually seem to work equally well when it comes to L, that he is either fully aware for most of the series about his feelings or entirely unaware and never bothers to reflect or consider it. says something about his character i guess, that he still manages to hide or cloud so many of his internal thoughts that shit like this can be pretty ambiguous and still feel kind of core to his character.

anyways, thanks again to @ai-the-broccoli and that original post for kicking this particular essay off, as well as everyone else who responded for getting my brain rolling this time around :)

[xxelleswrittingxx]

A Curious Predator Part 2

Warnings: non-con, avatar x fem!human smut

Part 1

Hours had passed and the eclipse moved overhead out of sight. Soft light emerged through the leaves and cast warmth onto your cooled skin, the heavy humidity finally hit its precipice to fall as a soft mist. It woke you from your heavy slumber and weighty limbs moved you to an upright position.

Neytiri had not slept a wink. The heat inside of her developed into an exciting buzz that kept her on her toes, waiting for any movement from you. Her mind ran through possible scenarios to come: you willingly giving in, being scared but still doing as she says or even fighting back. None of these worried her because she knew that no matter what, she would have you.

Her upright ears twitched forward to follow your new movements and a small grin made its way to her lips. You had awoken.

Memories of the evening before slammed back into your mind and you immediately started checking yourself and the surroundings for any danger. Things seemed to be clear and nothing had gotten you in your sleep. Relief washed through your tense body and plans for finding your way back to the team formed.

You emerged from your grove of tree roots to begin the long walk back to where the team first landed, or at least until you were back in range of the other com-calls. Soft chirps and the drizzle of rain became music to your ears during the trek. Unknown to you Neytiri followed above, her movements less graceful than they were before. Now they were more aggressive...crouching and crawling her way through the trees. The hormones surging through her body transformed her into a different being. Years of training lost, she forgot how to move unnoticed.

You could hear it above you. Something had found you and decided that you were it's next meal. The heavy thumping of your combat boots picked up alongside your heart rate. You changed your course and zig-zagged through large shrubs, under massive leaves, and over moss covered rocks.

The development of your leisurely pace to a slight jog had only excited her more. Senses amplified, Neytiri could smell you through the rain. She could feel your heartbeat pumping in her ears. Your fear in her stomach.

You halted to a stop. Where were you going? You know you could never outrun any of Pandora's wildlife, your only hope was to find your team but you strayed far from the path a long time ago. Y/E/C orbs scanned the surrounding area, searching for something unknown. Maybe the path back? But more likely, the thing that was following you.

A blue figure was crouching on a branch high above the ground across from you. A new fear dawned through your body, and it moved you before your brain could tell it to. Your feet fled in the opposite direction and all you could think about was getting away.

A frenzy had started.

Neytiri lept up and ran across the tree limbs before her. She quickly gained on you and eventually ahead of you to where she could drop down to the wet grass.

~

The rain beat down across your face and your feet slipped through mud, but that never stopped you. The giant Na'vi that dropped down in front of you did.

A scream ripped out of your throat and you fell back.

The alien before you crouched down and glared hard into your eyes. You had never met a real native before, so to suddenly have the unique being before you had left you shocked.

The powerful and lean limbs stretched on and on... distinct stripes painted across them. Big yellow cat eyes stared.

Fear still burned deep inside you.

You slowly started to crawl backwards... and the woman mirrored the movement to cawl after you.

"Please, I mean no harm!"

Neytiri tisked at the first words you spoke to her.

"I'm only trying to find my way back." Your voice wavered out.

"I do not care..." Was spit out in return. Her scrutinizing gaze burned all over you, taking in every detail that stood out to her.

Your mind raced with any possible way to get out of this situation, but it kept short-circuiting, once an idea popped up it ran blank with the fear and danger hovering in front of you. "I'll do anything! Just, please, don't hurt me!" Begging is the only thing making sense to your rushed mind right now.

"Hm, I know you will," Neytiri said with a blank look. She only cared about the burning heat between her thighs, and the delicious scent you put off, like the sweetest fruit Pandora had to offer mixed with fear and tears. She couldn't get enough of it.

And this is what brought her closer to you, her bow now taken off of her back and pointed down to your throat. The tip of it tilted your chin up, your view of the Na'vi was wavered with tears, but you couldn't ignore the beauty in front of you. She slowly leaned down over you.

"You will not move, or I will kill you. Understand?"

"Yes!"

This answer seemed to satisfy her, for she paused in thought, staring at you as if to read your expression and see if you were lying or not.

She threw her bow aside into the damp flora. She had decided to believe you, besides if you did try anything she knew that you were no match for her. So she watched your small body lay in the mud and tried to decide what to do with you.

Neytiri dropped to her hands and knees above you, a small 'rah!' slipped her lips, her aggression getting the best of her. You flinched at the sudden movement and sound, your reaction seemed to satisfy her. She dipped her nose down to your neck and sniffed hard, taking in your intoxicating scent. It soothed her, but at the same time made the fire burn hotter.

She sat up above your body and tried to figure out what to do with your annoying clothing, pulling the knife from her hip, she grabbed the front of your T-shirt and sliced the cotton.

You gasped at the brutal action, "W-what are you doing?"

"Removing your clothing." She ripped your bra next.

"Stop!" Your hands covered your chest, trying to save your modesty.

But Neytiri did not like this, "What did I tell you!" She hissed in your face and brought both of your wrists above your head with her one hand. "You are MINE." How could you not understand this? You were really starting to frustrate her...

Your shorts and underwear were next. She crawled down the length of your body and pried your legs apart, kneeling between them she took a deep breath in of your heat, "Wait! Not there!" your pleas fell on deaf ears and she delved into you, drinking in anything you had to give her. She had to have a taste of you before starting.

You couldn't believe it, the way it felt, you were supposed to be yelling but only moans escaped your throat. Your face burned in shame. Your hips bucked in pleasure. The hands held by her grasp escaped and tried to push her head away. Show growled into you and held them down by your sides.

Bold licks lapped through your folds. Neytiri slurped every juice up. She loved the sounds you made, especially the pleas to stop. They were amusing, you both knew she wouldn't, and that deep down you didn't want her to.

Your clit throbbed against the wet heat of her mouth and your walls tightened around nothing. 'No, no, no. Don't cum...' your thoughts screamed out, but your body would do what it wanted. And it did. Hard.

Your cum squirted into Neytiris' mouth and she swallowed everything. Your body thrashed under her hold, but it didn't budge her, if anything it spurred her on. Her mouth stayed attached until you went limp in the mud.

She stood up and started to undo her top, letting it drop, her bottoms followed next.

Your body shook with the aftermath of her. The sight of Neytiri undressing brought a new bolt of fear through your body and you turned over to crawl away. To nobody's shock, she grabbed your ankle and dragged you back over to her.

"Now, now little one, we are not done." She finally smiled during the interaction. Her large hands grasped you around your waist, and she laid back to bring you above her, your legs scissoring between hers. Your weight pressed your wet heat against her own and you both gasped out at the contact.

Finally, Neytiri was getting what she needed. Her large hands covered the expanse of your torso and she used them to guide your body. Rutting your hips down onto her own, she used you to pleasure herself.

You could feel her wetness seeping between your thighs, sticking you two together with her need. Wet squelches came from you both and you looked down at the blue woman, her eyes squeezed shut, jaw dropped and ears pointed back... God, she was beautiful. Unknown to yourself, your hips started to move on their own accord, your hands pressed down onto Neytiris' hard stomach.

It felt too good, you couldn't help it, you might as well give in...

NO! You were supposed to be scared, disgusted, and revolted. But your mind kept getting caught up in the sight below you. Her mound was glistening with slick, your's and her's mixed together, you kept getting a peek of it every time she brought your hips back and forward. Dark blue folds molded with your own... and you loved it.

Neytiri could feel her orgasm coming up on her quick. Her little toy felt so good against her, it was exactly what she needed. Little 'ah ah ah's were slipping from her mouth and she couldn't bring herself to care. The lean muscles of her body tensed tight and the pleasure bowed her back. With a low whine, Neytiri came long and intense under you,

You thought it was coming to an end as her rutting slowed down but it never stopped. Of course it wasn't over! She was in heat and this meant that she wasn't stopping until she was satisfied, and from previous experience, she wasn't done until she just about passed out.

Your clit started to throb again. It was coming back and you had to try to hold it off. To distract your mind you stared down at Neytiri's tits, Her small buds shook with every thrust and your mouth watered...

Fuck it.

You leaned forward and took one into your mouth. Neytiri let out a strangled moan and brought a large hand to your head to push you closer to her.

You sucked, nipped, and bit at her until they were swollen and raw. Yet, this still only distracted you for a little while. Your pussy was clenching hard, and before you could pull away from her chest your orgasm washed over you. Your face scrunched up in pleasure and you pulled the woman below you closer. Hips bucking hard against her own.

God this felt so fucking good.

Neytiri chuckled at the little human lying on top of her. So you finally gave in to her? It was faster than she had anticipated, but she wasn't going to complain. She loved to watch you hump yourself above her. Maybe she would have to keep you around. Her own little toy she could play with whenever she wanted.

~

AN: Omg this took forever to write, I'm so sorry to anybody that wanted the second part. Anyways hope you liked it! feedback is always appreciated :)

[lambcow]

Ok but imagine young Clark coming into his super-hypnotism powers as a young kid and Martha Kent is not having it because you can only argue with your two-year-old so much if they can sweet talk you into anything they want.

She figures out really fast that it's all in the inhuman eyes - and really, she should've known that gorgeous shade of blue was too good to be true - so when Clark gets in a fit and she just knows he's going to make a demand, she avoids direct eye contact with her sweet little angel. She knows he's not doing it on purpose, he's just a little kid, after all.

But then, he has to go to school, and Martha knows Clark won't do it on purpose, but her little baby is a charmspeaker and is accidentally going to manipulate the entire world around him into whatever he thinks he wants and that's just not going to fly!

So, Martha experiments a little. The next time they go into town for the day, Martha hands Clark a tiny pair of sunglasses to wear all day to see if lenses even make a difference. It's not that he's never worn them before, but she needs to know if he can influence anyone if he's not looking directly into their eyes. After a day of errands and several pleading looks and what are certainly puppy eyes from Clark from behind tinted lenses to no avail, Martha has her answer.

Their last stop of the day is an antique shop on Main. Martha greets the man at the counter like you only can in a small town and asks if he has any supplies of old glasses they can rifle through for Clark, just in the meantime until they can get his eyes checked. Just to limp along. It's a lie, Clark doesn't need a prescription. But in a box of used glasses, there's always the chance Martha will find what she needs.

Gary (that's his name) points her toward a dresser down the room and tells her there's a drawer filled with costume glasses and the like. They find a tiny pair of glasses for Clark and he complains at first that the world "looks funny" but then he blinks twice and looks around again and, with a grin, says "Never mind - I like them, can I keep them?"

And that's how Clark Kent starts wearing glasses.

As he gets older, continuing to grow up and especially while he's still shorter than his ma he'll occasionally glare up at her from over his lenses petulantly as he tries to get his way and it brings a whole new weight to the phrase "Don't give me that look, now, son," because Clark knows that she means not to use his Kryptonian eyes on her to get his way. It's not a secret any more than Clark being an alien is a secret that Clark can get people to do what he wants. But the few times he's done it have resulted in the biggest groundings of his entire life and more chores than he's ever wanted to do. And not just manual labor chores, but the kind of chores ma knows he doesn't like, because a ma always knows how to make a chore a chore.

In high school, for all that Clark is not very popular and has that whole quiet nerd persona going for him, he has that cute kid with the glasses Kryptonian Gaze™ down to a seductive art and he's not even trying. Because. Hello? B-i-o-l-o-g-y. So, yeah. That over-the-glasses glance from across the room? It's a whole thing and lots of girls (and guys?) are super confused by why they suddenly think Clark Kent might be super hot. Then when they look again but it's just Clark sitting there with his normal glasses again? They're not so sure...

He doesn't like to use his super-hypnotism because it feels like cheating, but depending on the circumstance he will. It's not that different than using his other abilities after all, right? If it's for the right reasons, is it?

While he's working at the Daily Planet, he'll use it on occasion to push his advantage for a story for that one extra detail, to get access to a room he might not have otherwise, to sneak into places he might not have, to make people forget his face, his name, their conversation if it was a particularly sketchy place... it's all a simple tilt down of the chin so he can look people straight in the eyes over the rim of his glasses and ask a pointed question or say something or suggest something and then....

As Superman it's different. As Superman, he never wears his glasses. He's all heat vision and x-ray vision, micro and macro vision. As Superman, he does what he needs to to save people. Sometimes that's telling someone to get to safety or go home, call 9-1-1, run, stay here, be quiet.. it's a hundred things as Superman. Sometimes it's asking guards for passcodes or entrance, sometimes it's to turn off surveillance altogether. Superman does what he has to do.

[tragedybunny]

If you are in the mood for writing and taking requests, could you pls write a short fic about crying f!Tav and Astarion comforting her?

Hello! I hope you like it. This was actually a scene I had been thinking about for awhile as it fits in with my Tav's story. Thank you to @satanicspinosaurus for the beta.

Lean On Me - Astarion x F!Reader

Your group stepped through the Basilisk Gate after your confrontation with Gortash at Wyrm’s Rock, entering Baldur’s Gate properly for the first time. The clamor and crowds of the city were overwhelming, smothering you in an alien way of life you’d only glimpsed in bits and snatches from the Patriar’s ivory walls of the Upper Gate.

were familiar, and yet not, and entirely overwhelming. You almost stumble as you glance around, trying to take everything in. Muscles tense as it all blurs together and you frantically try to figure out how to navigate the section of the city you’ve rarely seen. Someone soundlessly hovers at your shoulder.

“Everything alright, Darling?” Astarion whispers to not draw the attention of the others. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter before stepping away. There isn’t time for you to be anything else, so you breathe deep and take a step. 

“Should we start at the Elfsong? Could be a good base to operate from, and there’s always information to be found there.” Wyll’s point is solid, and the Emperor already urged you to stop there. 

“Good call.” There was just one problem. 

“Lead on, fearless Leader,” Wyll says jovially, but you’ve frozen where you stand. “You do know the way to the Elfsong right?” 

“I…” Frantically, you try to recall anything you know about the Lower City. 

“I thought every Baldurian knew where the Elfsong was,” Karlach asks, without malice, but genuine curiosity. 

You open your lips, but instead of words, a small noise comes out. It’s not their fault, they have no way of knowing, the Lower City was worlds away from your gilded cage. A place forbidden, it was below you. Or so you were told. 

“You're not familiar with the area, are you?” Wyll offers kindly, sensing something is wrong and trying to take some of the sudden pressure off. 

He says something else, but you can’t even hear him. The busy streets fade into visions of dark, cold rooms with windows to a world you can never touch. Tears embarrassingly prick your eyes as you’re drawn back into a place where fear motivates perfection, where hurt is a price paid to be molded into who you need to be. Eyes that mirror your own, blue and icy as a winter storm, stare at you with disdain. The message is clear: you’re not enough. 

Vaguely, more voices flit across your consciousness, but you can’t focus, until one voice in particular breaks though. “Go on ahead, I’ll take care of her.”

Cold hands clasp yours, a momentary calm in the storm. “Can you hear me, Love?” Wordlessly, you nod. “I’m going to lead you into this alley, just so we get out of the street.” The insistent pull is easy to follow with nothing to anchor you. 

The clustered buildings block the daylight, plunging you into shadows and shade, any progress of Astarion’s reassuring voice is lost. Daylight is a reward for obedience, and there is none of it here. Mother’s voice is in your ear, the matriarch of ice. You want to leave, but the door is locked, useful trinkets can’t be left to their own devices, lest they be lost. You feel yourself trembling, and you know you’re still crying. “You’re not there, you’re safe. Just focus on my voice. You can do that for me, right, my Sweet?” 

Eyes squeeze shut, and you yank your hands away from his to rub fitfully at the scar on your wrist. You never could get away from her, you're drowning in frigid water, you can’t breathe. She wouldn’t let you go, even when your heart stopped beating. Foolish to think you’d ever escape. “I’m going to take your hand again. I won’t hurt you.” 

Astarion makes a strangled gasp when he pries your hand from your wrist, but he holds it gently, rubbing softly with his thumb. “Come back to me, Sunlight, I’m right here.” 

Sunlight. “...you’re bright, and warm, and beautiful,” you can still hear those words of his as clear as the night he said them. Warm, bright, nothing like what you’re supposed to be. Because you’re free now, you’re no longer currency to be traded, your life is yours to mold. 

“Astarion,” you force your eyes open and struggle to get more words out between ragged breaths, burying your tears back down inside yourself. Wide crimson eyes stare at you with open concern, traveling down to where your nails have worried jagged, red lines in the skin of your wrist. Pulling it to your chest, you tuck it out of sight, wanting both of you to forget what you saw. “I’m fine. We should get going.” There’s so much that needs to be done. 

Astarion is never good at hiding his emotions from you, and hurt flickers across his face for a moment before he regains control. “But you’re not, and you don’t have to be all the time.” 

Deep breath, reassuring smile, the composure of a leader. Everyone is counting on you. That’s why they love you, you lead where they can’t. “Really, I’m alright, I-”

Gently, he pulls you into himself, and runs fingers comfortingly through your hair. “I know what it’s like, remember?” Gods, you’d almost forgotten who you were trying to convince. Instincts want to fight him still, to go on, to stop making a scene. But his comforting touch persists, and he raises your stinging wrist to his lips, laying the most delicate kiss on it. 

The tears you’d so successfully banished well back up, and you find yourself sniffling into his shirt, building to genuine gulping sobs. 

Composure shattered, there’s no going back. All your weight leans into him as you cry. “Sorry, I’m sorry, really, I’ll be fine.” 

“Shh, no apologies, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Lips kiss the top of your head, and you bury your face against him, still ashamed of breaking down. 

Time slips away from you as you let the fear and hurt drain away in tears. Astarion’s hold never waivers, soothing words falling from his lips in a low whisper until you finally quiet. There’s an emptiness where it all was, but it’s better than the pain. “I-”

“That had better not be another apology on that sweet little tongue of yours.” He lets go just enough to pull back and study you, concern written on his features, despite the lighter tone to his words. 

You offer him a shaky smile. Despite his faults, Astarion tries to be a good partner. “It burns like failure. I should be better.”

“Hmm, that sounds like it comes from your family I'd wager,” your eyes go wide at his deduction, “it wasn't hard to figure out from the little bits I've been able to get from you. But they're not here, and I am. And I say you're so very strong already, you deserve some time when you’re not.” 

Silently, you let your head fall back against his chest. You don’t have an answer for him because you want to argue. That’s a pointless endeavor, though, both because Astarion is nearly impossibly stubborn and a little part of you is starting to think he’s right. “Maybe,” you finally say. 

“You know I’m right Darling, like always,” it’s such a typical Astarion way of ending a heavy moment, you give him a genuine smile. “But I suppose we should catch up with the others, gods know what trouble they’ve gotten into without us.” 

If only you had time for just the two of you right now, it will have to wait though. More than just your friends, a whole city is at the precipice of disaster. And who knows how many more than Baldur’s Gate will suffer if you fail. One more kiss and you stand up straight, finding the will to press on again. 

A hand catches yours, a reminder you’re not doing this alone. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

 @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess

@lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress

@astariongf

[luna-writes-stuff]

Time In A Bottle, Astarion

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 2584

Tw: pls it’s so difficult to write for BG3, idk how y’all do this. Looming anxiety, act II. Mentions of alcohol/local drunks (you’re a tavern keeper). No race, gender, or class specified. One (1) innuendo, but it’s hidden.

Summary: Travelling through the Shadowlands seemed to bring more anxiety than you would have initially anticipated. In the Last Light Inn you’re all caught up in your head when Astarion finds you. Trying his best to soothe you, you discuss whatever the future holds once you’re finally free.

Requested by @bogginswritings

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“If I could save time in a bottle The first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away Just to spend them with you.”

He never believed in fate. Hell, if fate had been real, it had been terribly cruel to him. And fate had always been a positive daydream. Never of the material only seen in your nightmares. Thus - fate was a lie. It was purely a coincidence that you happened to be everywhere he was.

Yes, just a coincidence that you happened to meet him whilst a gang of thieves tried to sneak up on him. You hadn’t even known the elf, but part of you had urged you to step in and pretend to know him. You couldn’t quite tell how or why, and though he seemed perfectly capable of handling himself, you had stepped in, dragging him by his arm into clear sight - away from the shady alley he had found himself in. Besides a short introduction and a brief nod of gratitude, you didn’t exchange many words.

But then you met him later in a bar. By rights you shouldn’t have even remembered his face, but somehow you did. And he did as well. Finding him somewhat owing you some form of gratitude he had treated you to a drink, and you started a short conversation.

Then, again, you wouldn’t see him for weeks, until stumbling back into him upon market squares, theatres, libraries, and harbours. The more you saw him, the more you found yourself longing to see him again. You had never hoped to see him on an alien ship, though.

It was a brief glimpse, a wandering eye over a room you weren’t meant to see, but your eyes caught his figure in a pod for a second. Then, everything had gone dark.

Having come across him after your escape, it seemed logical to stick with him - he had been the person you knew the best. But what initially started out as sheer survival instincts and panic had begun to grow into something similar to fondness. A feeling he couldn’t deny either. Be that as it may, you both remained silent about it. There were more pressing matters in your head, both literally and figuratively.

“If I could make days last forever. If words could make wishes come true. I'd save every day like a treasure, and then Again, I would spend them with you.”

Bravery had been your growing companion the close you got to Moonrise Towers and salvation. But it had begun to waver the second you had stepped foot into the Shadowlands. Words could not express your gratitude once you found the Last Light Inn, but the pressing urgency of complete darkness never once faltered from your mind. Your eyes couldn’t seem to tear from it either, as your frame sat on a lone balcony, staring into the abyss outside the dome, silent stares giving you glares back, washing shivers up your spine. You had already been on edge, so when Astarion decided to sit down next to you without as much as alerting you of his presence, you couldn’t help the panicked skip in the beat of your heart.

“Great mother of-“ You shrieked, clutching your chest as you forced yourself to halt your words. “Astarion, don’t do that.” “Oh, but I do love to scare you,” He replied through a laugh, letting his legs fall between the bars, dangling over the tiny river below. You didn’t reply to him. It wasn’t the first time he scared you, but unlike then, you couldn’t find yourself appreciating the gesture anymore.

“You’re no fun,” He sighed when you failed to respond. “Too caught up in this looming death thing?” “Well, yes,” You affirmed. “We don’t have any sense of direction here and the shadows have eyes - quite literally. So, yes. I am ‘too caught up in this looming death thing’.” Taken aback by your quick fire of words, he leaned back a little. “We have our fairy friend.” He tried to console. “Ah, yes,” You agreed. “That’ll teach them.”

A scoff of entertainment came from him as he gently observed you. The trail his eyes made over your body sent a slight shiver down your spine, but you pushed it away. “I sense a faint scent of stress on you.” He spoke. “Truly?” You asked, raising your eyebrows in mock-surprise. “Then, I shall indulge you: there is panic, fear, and loneliness also.” “That sounds awful.” Astarion commented, causing you to shrug, your eyes falling back into the darkness in front of you. He seemed so calm - almost at peace: “How are you so okay with all of this?”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “Well, someone has to keep the spirits up in this group.” You nodded once, a faint smile on your face. “Tremendous job you’re doing at that. I am quite sure Gale will break down once the first person asks him how he's doing.” “He is going to blow himself up.” Astarion mumbled, tilting his shoulder from side to side in understanding. You cast him a look over your shoulder. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them.”

He was quiet for a while, watching your eyes stare at nothing, the absence of light almost reflecting on your face. “If it helps,” He began. “I don’t like it either.” Furrowing your eyebrows together, you looked back at him. “Gale blowing up?” “What? No.” He said quickly, before shaking his head. “I mean - I don’t like it, no, but that is not what I meant.”

You sighed. As much as some tried to deny it, you had grown very fond of your travelling group, and you were almost certain the feeling was mutual. You hated to think of what would happen if the tadpoles were to transform you - or what would happen if you managed to actually get them out of your heads. You might never see Astarion again. He’d get his revenge and vanish, free to do his own bidding. You couldn’t blame him for it, but the thought hurt all the same.

“I hate it here too,” The elf admitted. “It has this sense of emptiness. Feeds into loneliness.” You didn’t dare to ask him more of it. You knew his struggles and buttons, but you weren’t going to push them now. Not when there was too much going on in your head as it was. Thus, you tried to change the topic: “If we manage to somehow survive everything, what is to become of you?”

The elf gave you a curious look. His eyes - however - hardened slightly, before they fell to the bannisters in front of him. “I think you know.” “I mean,” You tried. “After you have had your peace. What will you do?” That seemed to make him think for a while. You were grateful for the harpers talking in the yard - you could not have dealt with absolute silence now. “Whatever I want.” Astarion finally revealed, almost struggling with the words. “To not have to obey one's commands or wishes would be something…” His voice trailed off, trying to find the right words. “New,” He settled on. “I wouldn’t know what I’d do now. That is all for later.”

Then, his eyes met yours, an unknown glint within them, the hint of a smirk on his face - a drastic change to his expression seconds earlier. “Why?” At his look and undertone, your face heated up slightly, your eyes involuntarily dwindling down to your hands, which had grasped each other in light anxiety. “Just a question.” You justified.

“I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with.”

You could hear his chuckle, his eyes never leaving your form. “I see.” He answered, “What is to become of you when we survive?” Coughing up the uncomfortable feeling in the back of your throat, you shrugged nonchalantly. “Back to Baldur’s Gate.” You answered truthfully. “I had a life there - a job. Friends and family who might still live.” A sudden jolt of daring shot through you as you forced your head to rise, a cheeky grin now covering your face. “Why?” He could laugh at that, following your words as he shrugged. “Just a question.”

A second, comfortable silence followed. You ignored the irregular beating of your heart of Astarion’s eyes almost drilling holes into the side of your skull. Had it always been so abnormally hot?

Shifting under his gaze, you turned slightly, now giving him your full attention. “Won’t it get boring?” You dared to ask, taking him by surprise. “I’m sorry?” He returned, unsure of what you were asking or what you were insinuating. A frantic knock against his chest from the inside was forced down as you continued to speak: “You’ll live forever,” “Well, not exactly forever,” He interrupted. “I’m not invincible.” “You have no plan for the future, so you intend to wander alone forever?”

That question took him aback. Sure, he had fantasised about what his life would be like once he was finally free, but there never had been a solid plan or bucket list. Just a handful of things he longed to do - such as swim or walk under sunlight without growing uncomfortable, but these weren’t life plans. These were simple goals.

“Well, there’s no one I can really share it with, is there?” He questioned, trying to bruh the matter off, as if he hadn’t wondered about it himself. “Of course, there are brief entertainments, but no… settlements.” The hint in his voice caused your shoulders to lower slightly, a small amount of defeat watching over your back staring, staring at you menacingly. You pretended it didn’t bother you, though. Instead, you smiled for him, another shrug passing you as you leaned your head to the side.

“I suppose.”

“If I had a box just for wishes And dreams that had never come true. The box would be empty Except for the memory of how they were answered by you.”

“And you, then?” He returned, matching the gesture on your face. “Cursed to spend your life being wed off to some low life farmer?” You chuckled at him, shaking your head in dismissal as you recounted your working days in a local tavern, serving visitors and locals ale whilst they would rant and talk about everything. It was something you never thought you’d find yourself missing. But those now appeared to be the simpler days, and the longer your travel became, the more you find yourself urging to go back to those days, having taken nothing for granted.

“More like cursed to spend my life aiding drunks.” You commented, a fond smile on your face as you silently recounted all those times you had to throw out old drunks. Bothers then, that seemed to be a daydream now. “That sounds dull.” Astarion dismissed, not at all pleased with the image of you having to throw out drunks who might have been twice your size.

“No,” You returned sarcastically. “Wandering the planes of this world on your own for all eternity sounds lovely.” “Again, not for all eternity.” The elf corrected, but you ignored it, ranting off your bothers with eternity: “Everyone you know will be dead by the time your end comes, so it might as well be eternity.” You swallowed harshly as you processed your words, casting him a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry,” You apologised. “That sounded harsh.” But instead of a frown, that ever-apparent smirk was still on his face: “Don’t fret, darling. I’ll visit your tavern until the day you die.” “Oh, I really hope I won’t serve my entire life there.”

Both of you laughed at that, your arms falling against the bannisters as you leaned against it, resting your head on the side, directed Astarion’s way. He simply looked at you, almost seeming hesitant - carefully choosing out his next words.

“You don’t have to.” He settled on. You didn’t quite catch his underlying meaning. “Maybe you don’t, but most of us have to participate in society.” “No interest in wandering the planes of this world?” That caught you off-guard. Sure, he has flirted with you before, but never with the intention of starting something serious. You weren’t sure if you were imagining this. Perhaps you were. Best to laugh it off: “With you?” You feigned humour. “Where’d I get my happiness from?” “Oh, you’re hilarious.” The elf mocked, but his voice turned serious again. “You wouldn’t want to travel the world?” “Of course I would,” You confessed quickly. “But with what money?”

“But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them.”

Silence once more. Astarion hadn’t really worried about money before, even when he was still a normal elf. Wealth had become relatively easy for him, whether he wanted it or not.

“You know, once I’m done with everything, I’ll have enough money to accompany me for decades. Money wouldn’t be an issue.” Nope, you weren’t imagining things. If you were, this had been a terribly cruel joke. He would have never spoken like this if he had no intention of keeping his promises. And though you would have loved to join him, the glum setting of your current journey had drowned your spirits slightly.

“Well, there is the precious issue concerning time. We don’t have the same time.” He could see the conflict and pain in your eyes, but - as always - he seemed to have already prepared his next line: “I have a very easy answer to that.” “Oh, that’s kinky.” You tried to brush off, pros and cons silently ticking off in your head. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He returned in a low voice. You sighed at that, your gaze falling back upon the distance, only now from the side. “Astarion,” You muttered. “I’d love to. But I have a family out there. You’re important to me, but I can’t just disappear from them forever.”

He understood. Well, maybe not entirely, but he knew it would be a big matter for you. It would have been for everyone. Everyone but him. He knew how important your life was, and as his had been taken too early, he could only imagine what it would be like to that to another. “So, we’ll take care of your stupid drunks for a couple years. Then, we can leave.” He convinced, drawing a chuckle out of you. “That’s romantic.”

Taking you by surprise, his hand fell upon yours, which had been clutching the bannister. “I just want to spend it with you.” He spoke sincerely. No laugh, no smile, no crinkle by his eyes. There was nothing but truth and resilience in his words. You grew weak at the simple touch, but it was his face which drew you over the line: “If we live, I’ll help you get your revenge. We’ll see what happens afterwards.”

He couldn’t suppress the smile on his face, his fingers squeezing your hands once, before letting go, a dramatic groan coursing through him. “Ugh, an eternity with you?” “You brought it up.” You countered. Again, his hand found yours, this time intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Darling, I can’t wait.”

“I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with.”

[mandos-mind-trick]

Inside

Summary: A mission on a seemingly uninhabited planet goes wrong for Clone Force 99’s civilian member. The Bad Batch find themselves having to make a tough decision as they face an unthinkable situation. 

Pairing: None, but hinted at Hunter x reader flirting

Warnings: Body horror, alien species, injuries, vomiting, surgery, very graphic medical stuff, needles.

A/N: Taking a break from the horny to deliver my second horror fic for Halloween. This one is inspired by the Alien series. One of my favorite horror series. Please do heed the warnings, this one is rather graphic.

MASTERLIST

You wake with a pained groan. You're face down on something hard and uneven. There's water dripping somewhere, the sound echoing around you. Your mouth feels dry and your tongue swollen as you attempt to swallow. Your throat aches, not unlike when you would get sick as a child. 

You try to move, but pain erupts all across your body. You take a deep breath, your stomach aching in protest. You crack your eyes open, but you're in pitch black darkness. 

You push past the aching in your body, reaching a hand down to your belt. You fumble until you find the pocket with your torch, pulling it out. You turn it on, shining it around you. 

You're laying on a rocky surface in what looks like a cave. Memories come back to you as you lay there, your brain finally catching up. 

Your squad had been sent to an uninhabited planet to search for an emergency beacon that had been set off. There were no records of any personnel in this area, but with war waging across the galaxy, it wasn't uncommon to get distress signals from the most unlikely places. 

The planet was host to non-stop high winds and storms, and the beacon led you into a cavern in a hillside. You remember entering the cavern and searching, and you remember the ground giving way under your feet. 

That was how you got here. 

You slowly push yourself onto your side, gritting your teeth against the agony burning through your very bones and the deep cramping in your stomach. You shine your torch at the ceiling, but it's too high to see where you fell through, or how far you'd fallen. 

You push the button on your comms, calling out for anyone, but you get no reply. Comms had been spotty on the planet's surface. Just your luck they won't work at all down here. 

They know you're missing. Hunter had called out to you as you'd fallen. You're not sure how long you've been down here, how long you were unconscious. Could have been mere minutes. Could have been hours. You don't think they'd leave you down here for hours. 

You try the comms again, getting nothing but a garbled static sound in return. It was something, but not nearly enough. You can't just lay here, but you're not sure what else to do. 

You slowly work on turning yourself onto your back, your stomach spasming painfully with every small movement. You're definitely injured, no doubt about that. You just hope they can get to you before it gets worse. The ache in your throat has subsided, as well as the dryness in your mouth. You'd kill for some water, and the dripping off in the distance is doing nothing to help that. 

You shine your torch at the ceiling as the sound of rocks falling reaches your ears. Fear spikes through you as it gets louder. You can't be sure you're alone in the cave. You don't feel like there's anything else inside, but then again, you'd have no way of knowing. There were obvious weak spots in the cavern above too, which could give way and bury you under rubble. 

More debris falls into the cavern before lights appear a few feet away. Two figures drop from the ceiling, their headlamps lighting the cave. You breathe a sigh of relief, resting your head back against the ground as they approach you. 

"You alright?" Hunter asks as he kneels down next to you. 

You squint in the bright light of his headlamp. "All things considered, I think I'm alright." 

"No life threatening injures that I can see." Tech says, scanning your body. "Where is your pain located?"

"My stomach." You say, wincing as you press against the tender area. 

"How did you land when you fell?" Tech asks.

"On my stomach, I think. I woke up face down." You say. 

Tech hums, injecting something into your neck. "Likely a blunt force wound. No signs of internal bleeding or damage."

The pain begins to ebb, the fog in your brain clearing as the stim shot kicks in. 

"The whole cavern floor could be unstable." Tech says as the sound of more debris falling reaches your ears. 

"Let's get out of here." Hunter says, looping your arm around his shoulders. 

Tech takes the other side and they lift you to your feet. You curse, trying to fold in on yourself as your stomach screams in protest. 

"Come on, let's get you back up to the surface." Hunter says, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Then we can get a better look."

You lean against him as they guide you to where they'd entered the cave. Hunter maneuvers you so you're chest to chest, securing both of you with a rope. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head on your shoulder as he sinches you tighter together. 

"You know if you wanted to get me in this position, you could have just asked." You murmur, and you can practically hear Hunter's eyes rolling. 

"Bring us up." Hunter says, tugging on the rope.

He wraps one arm around you as you're lifted off the ground, holding you securely as he works his way back up into the cavern. It's a long way, further than you expected. 

No wonder your body was aching so much. 

You breathe a sigh of relief as you're lifted back into the cavern, Wrecker waiting to pull you up. He sets you gently on the ground, the pain starting to disappear as the stim shot continues to work. 

"Let's get out of here." Hunter says, pulling himself up over the lip of the hole. "Before something else happens."

You lean against Hunter as the squad makes their way from the cavern and back into the perpetual storm. He guides you, keeping you steady as the wind whips around you. 

You're ready to get off this planet. It's not the worst place you've visited, but you're certainly not going to consider coming back. 

***

"There's bruising developing." Tech says, fingers pushing against the sore spot on your stomach. "Likely the cause of your discomfort." 

He jabs a bacta needle into the center of the bruise, making you hiss. 

"Ow." You grit out, but you can already feel the ache easing just a bit. 

"You'll be fine in a few hours." Tech says, clinical as usual. 

"Get some rest." Hunter says as you fix your blacks. "I don't doubt we'll be getting new orders soon."

You hum, rubbing your eyes. You do feel tired, more so than you usually do after a mission like this. It's more akin to how you feel after a fight. You don't argue any, pulling down one of the bunks before practically collapsing on it. 

You don't get much rest, though. You feel strange, beyond the fact that you fell a few hundred feet into a cave. There's a strange pressure in your chest, like something is pushing up against your organs. 

Tech had reassured you that nothing was injured, that everything looked normal internally. Your armor had done its job and protected you against any major damage that could have been caused, and it was a miracle you didn't hit your head very hard. 

You drift off into an uneasy, restless sleep. Despite your exhaustion you don’t sleep well, the nagging feeling of something being wrong not easing any.

You’re not sure how long you float in and out of sleep. They let you rest, setting themselves up in various places around the ship to rest as well. Downtime is rare, so the squad always takes advantage of any time available to rest and recuperate. It always seems to take you longer to recover, likely something to do with their enhancements. 

You rise after a while, tired of tossing and turning. Your stomach churns a bit as you move, the pressure still evident in your chest but you brush it off. Likely just some residual side effects from falling as far as you did. You make your way towards the cockpit, slipping past Hunter and Wrecker sleeping in the computer seats. 

You pause as the pressure increases in your chest. Your stomach feels like it’s squirming and you barely make it to the fresher before you’re vomiting up what little you had eaten before the mission into the toilet. The squirming feeling continues until you're dry-heaving, nothing left to come up. 

You fall back against the wall of the tiny fresher, taking in gasping breaths. Tears blur your vision as you try to control your stomach. You run cold water in the small sink, splashing some on your face. 

Your stomach still feels like it's squirming as you step out of the fresher, still shaking a little. You don’t feel good, but you try to write it off as just being the exhaustion coupled with the events of the day, coupled with you hitting your head. 

Hunter and Wrecker are awake, both of them staring at you. Tears continue to burn your eyes. You feel bad for likely waking them. 

“You okay?” Wrecker asks, ever the sweetheart. 

You nod, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Yeah. D-Don’t feel so good.” Your stomach still feels as if it's squirming, the pressure increasing in your chest. 

Hunter says your name, his eyes focused as he stares at you. You turn to him, frowning in confusion. “Don’t move.” 

You hold your breath, your heart starting to thump with fear as he kneels in front of you, one hand pressing against your stomach. Your insides squirm, but not in a good way as he presses lightly against your abdomen. 

“There’s something inside you.” He says, pulling his hand back. 

Your stomach drops, your body going numb with fear. “W-What.” 

“I can hear it moving.” He says, standing back up. “Tech, do another scan.” 

Tech holds his datapad in front of your stomach and you stay as still as possible, despite the fear making you want to drop. Something inside you? Was the squirming in your stomach not your own body’s doing? Or the pressure in your chest? Was something moving in there, causing you to feel this way? 

“There.” Tech says, holding up his datapad. 

It looks like a worm. A large, alien worm just under a foot long nestled right under your ribs. 

“H-How?” You gasp out, unable to tear your eyes away from the image. 

“It’s possible it entered your body while you were unconscious.” Tech says. 

“But wouldn’t it have shown up on the scan?” Hunter asks. 

“It’s possible it was too small to be picked up on the initial scans.” Tech explains. “Which would mean it’s growing quickly.” 

“The bodies.” Echo says, having appeared as well as Crosshair, a tense silence settling in the hull. 

“Wh-What bodies?” You ask, shaking in fear. 

“Right when you fell, we found the beacon. There was nothing but bodies left. They’d been there for a while.” Hunter explains, his voice low and calm. “Their injuries...something had...forced its way through their chests. Like they tore right through from inside.” 

You’re hyperventilating. Your fingers and toes are tingling. The interior of the Marauder is swimming. You’re on the floor, Hunter’s hand on your back as you sob. 

“Get it out of me.” You gasp, clinging to his wrist. “You have to get it out of me.” 

“Reroute us to the nearest medical facility.” Hunter says. 

Echo heads to the cockpit, Tech still staring at the datapad. “We may not have that kind of time.” He says. “It’s impossible to guess the length of the gestational period. It could attempt to free itself any moment now.” 

Hunter gives him a look as you sob harder, the squirming and pressure in your chest becoming more prominent now that you know something is inside you. Something is causing it to happen. 

“We’re six hours away from the nearest medical center.” Crosshair says, coming back into the hull. 

“She doesn’t have that kind of time.” Hunter says.

“Get it out of me.” You cry. “I don’t care what you do, just get it out!” 

Hunter looks at Tech as he adjusts his goggles. “We could attempt to remove it before it reaches the end of its gestational cycle. That would cause the least amount of damage, though this is hardly a sterile environment for something so invasive.” 

“If you don’t do something I’m going to cut it out myself.” You say, reaching for Hunter’s knife. 

He pulls his arm away before you can grab it. “We have to try. She could die if we don’t do anything.” 

***

The metal bunk is cold against your bare back. You’re in nothing but your breastband and pants, your shirt tucked into your mouth to give you something to bite down on. Tech is standing over you, situating the scanner at just the right spot. Hunter is hovering over your head, Wrecker sitting at your feet. 

“We will have to be quick.” Tech says, looking over the tools on the crate next to him. “Try not to let her move too much.” 

“Why can’t she be sedated?” Hunter asks, his breath fanning the top of your head. 

“Forced sedation may cause the creature to prematurely attempt an escape. If it is feeding off her in any way, we don’t want to risk disrupting the environment in a way we are not prepared for.” Tech says, grabbing a scalpel. 

The beeping of the monitor on your arm increases, your body tensing in preparation for what’s about to happen. Hunter wraps his arm across your chest, leaning in close to your ear. You wrap your hands around his arm, holding on as Tech presses the scalpel against your skin. 

“Oh I can’t watch.” Wrecker says, turning his face away. 

You let out a whimper, your body tensing as he slices through the skin. Your teeth sink into your shirt as your face contorts with pain. Your very nerves are on fire as he opens the wound, just enough to find the creature inside you. 

Hunter presses his arm against your chest to hold you still as you attempt to jerk away from the pain, Wrecker holding onto your legs. 

“You’re alright.” Hunter whispers in your ear. “It’s almost over.” 

Your chest pushes against his arm as you sob, able to feel the alien worm inside you moving as Tech attempts to extract it. Your hands are gripping Hunter’s arm so tightly it has to hurt. 

Your whole body jerks, a muffled scream tearing from your throat as sharp pain erupts inside you. You’re hyperventilating, the monitor on your arm beeping rapidly. 

“Tech?” Hunter asks, the desperation noticeable in his voice. 

“I have a hold of it, but it’s attempting to attach itself to her.” Tech says, reaching for a long needle.

Your eyes roll back, darkness filling your vision as Tech lifts the creature from your stomach, a high pitched cry sounding from it before you slip into unconsciousness. 

***

It’s bright when you wake. For a moment you think you might have died, but the sound of beeping tells you otherwise. 

You squint against the bright lights of the medical center, lifting a hand to try and shield the bright lights. Someone says your name, pulling you out of the fog. You turn your head, staring up at the blurry figure beside you. 

“Hunter?” You rasp out, rubbing your eyes. 

“Good to have you back, cyare.” He says.

“You’re very lucky.” Another voice says and you tilt your head to stare up at a doctor standing over you. “You’ve made a full recovery, thanks to the interventions of your squad.” 

“I am pretty lucky.” You say, looking around the cot at the five members of your squad. 

“One last round of tests,” The doctor says. “Then you’ll be free to go.” 

You look back at Hunter as the doctor steps away. “Thank you.” You say. 

His brow furrows a little. “For what?”

“We wouldn’t have even known if it wasn’t for your senses. And I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Tech’s skills.” You say, turning to look at Tech. 

“It was a very simple procedure.” He says, adjusting his goggles. “And the little I got to study the creature before it was confiscated rendered some fascinating discoveries. I am looking forward to reading the full report once the Republic has finished its own studies.” 

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm despite everything. You slip your hand into Hunter’s as Tech continues to babble on about the creature, squeezing it gently. 

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @mssbridgerton @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @hellhound5925 @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare @jediknightjana @dalu-grantkylo

[moonlight0934]

Persuasion

Bruce types, his eyes burning. He knows that he should have given up on his work and gone to bed hours ago. Especially with Tim sitting in the corner, working on cold cases. He hasn’t even stopped to make Tim go home like he normally would, but he just wants to be done with it so badly. At least done with enough that he won’t have to get up quite so early later this morning. He glances at the clock in the corner of the screen.

Shit, it’s three a.m. already.

“Tim, you should go home.”

Tim hums without even looking up. Bruce pinches his nose, forcing himself not to roll his eyes at the kid across the room from him who is far too similar to Bruce for his own good. Bruce stands up, stretching.

“Tim, did you hear me?”

Tim hums again, even though he’s obviously not paying attention.

“Tim!”

Tim looks up.

“Yeah, Bruce?”

“You need to go home. It’s late.”

“Can I crash here tonight?”

It’s not the first time Tim has asked Bruce that, but Bruce is always tempted to say no. He knows that Alfred will be angry if he makes Tim go back to his empty house, or make him risk sneaking in if his parents are there. Especially since it’s so late.

“Fine, you can. You’re still sleeping on the couch though.”

Tim nods, and stands up. He stretches, his joints popping. Bruce winces slightly as he grabs his stuff to go up the stairs with him. He heads straight to bed, turning his phone and JL communicator off. He falls asleep almost immediately because of how absolutely exhausted he is. He wakes up a few hours later feeling sore and still so tired.

Why am I awake? I haven’t been asleep long enough.

Then he realizes that there’s a small hand shaking his arm.

Jason?

He’s half-way through asking if Jason had a nightmare when he realizes that it’s Tim standing beside his bed.

“Bruce.”

“What do you want?”

“Someone named Clark is calling the house phone. Is Superman calling you?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m smart.”

“Did you answer, or did he leave a message?”

“He left two messages, and then I answered. He said that he wanted to talk to you, but your phone was going straight to voicemail. He tried to make it seem like it was something normal, but since I figured that it was Superman, I also figured that it was something to do with Batman.”

“Get out. I’ll be down in a second.”

Tim nods, and runs out. Bruce pulls on a hoodie, and follows Tim down the stairs. Tim is on the phone, smiling.

“What are you doing?”

“Making him uncomfortable by making small talk without divulging anything about myself. I haven’t even told him my name. He’s unnerved, probably because I’m in your house.”

Bruce takes the phone.

“What do you want, Clarke?”

“We need your help. There’s an alien that’s trashing Central right now, and it’s calling for all hands on deck.”

“I can’t. Robin is at my house right now, and I can’t just leave him here.”

“Bring him for all I care. We just really need your intelligence for this. Wait, was I talking to Robin while actively trying not to die?”

“Yep.”

“He’s suited for you, isn’t he? Anyway, I won’t call you for a week if you come down here.”

“Alfred isn’t here to watch Robin, I seriously can’t just leave him.”

“I’m serious too, just bring him. It’ll be fine. He seems smart, so he could even be helpful.”

“Fine, but you’re not calling or talking to me for a week and a half.”

“Sure thing. I got him to come, and he’s bringing his newest kid. I told you I’m persuasive,” Clark yells.

Bruce hangs up.

“I hate my life. Ok, come on. We’re suiting up, and heading down to Central in the plane.”

Tim nods.

“Am I going to meet the Justice League?”

“Yes, unfortunately. There’s an alien that they can’t figure out how to deal with. They’re idiots.”

“I assume you have to play babysitter and save them a lot,” Tim says as he follows Bruce down to the cave.

“Yep.”

Tim snickers. They both get suited up, and fly over to Central. Most of the Justice League is there, flying around this giant blob alien. Bruce lands the plane, and walks out.

“Ok, stay safe, and try not to talk to any of the Justice League members. They haven’t met you, and they’re easily distracted.”

“Oh, that is not how I thought that was going to go. So I can go near them, but I can’t talk to them?”

“Exactly. Just stay safe, ok?”

“I will be super careful with the giant alien blob. It’s like the blue thing off of Monster Vs. Aliens.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but ok.”

Bruce grapples over to Clark, leaving Tim by the plane. A wad of alien goo flies towards them immediately, but Bruce just ducks out of the way.

“What’s the situation?” he asks, sounding annoyed and tired.

Clark opens his mouth to respond, but then Tim lands next to them.

“B.”

“What Robin?”

“I figured out the monster’s weakness.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s nice to meet you,” Clark says.

Tim looks at him, cocking his head to the side.

“I’m not allowed to talk to you. Anyway-”

“Robin, what is it?”

“Water. It screamed and started to dissolve when I threw water at it.”

“Why were you doing that?”

Tim just stares at Bruce until Bruce turns back to Clark.

“Well, you heard him. Try to throw a lot of water at it, and see what happens.”

Clark nods, and flies away to tell the others.

“Why were you throwing water at it?”

“I didn’t mean to actually. I was drinking some water by the plane while trying to figure out what I needed to do. Then it started spitting goo at me, and I dropped my water. It spilled everywhere, including on the goo that had already hit the ground. It was hilarious.”

Bruce nods, too tired to care. He grapples over to where the League is congregating.

“Ok, we tried it, and it worked. So, now we have to figure out how to get it over to the water, or we can fill that giant crater with water. We’d have to work on distracting it at the same time, then we’d have to lure it over there,” Clark says.

“Where did this thing even come from?” Barry asks.

“I don’t know. This is your city. Anyway, we can figure that out later,” Hal replies, folding his arms.

“Lantern, fill up the crater. Superman, Flash, you’re with me,” Bruce says, then walks past them.

It’s not a hard process to keep the thing chasing them, and it falls right into the crater when they lead it over there. It’s completely dissolved within three minutes. Bruce turns to say something to Clark when he sees Robin fly past. It looks like something tossed him, and slams into the wall of a building a few feet away.

“Robin!” Bruce yells, taking off towards him.

There’s still no visible threat. Tim’s head is bleeding heavily, and he doesn’t focus on Bruce when Bruce sits him up.

“Robin, status report.”

Tim just blinks lethargically.

“Mh, he hit his head pretty hard.”

“Who is that?” Hal demands.

“That’s Bat’s new Robin. He’s the one who figured out the water,” Clark says.

“Ooooh, you hit Bat’s kid,” Barry says.

Bruce turns around so quickly.

“You did this?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even aware you had a new sidekick. He just popped up out of nowhere, and scared me.”

“What are you? A toddler?”

Bruce picks Tim up.

“I’m taking him home. We’re going to be talking about this at the next meeting. Also, you are not “persuading me” into taking him anywhere near you guys again,” Bruce growls, cradling Tim against his chest.

He still doesn’t get much of a response from Tim, so he sits Tim right next to him. He watches him the entire flight home. Leslie is waiting when he gets there, and she checks Tim over. Bruce leaves him there, and goes to his room. He can’t stand to wait around like he’s done so many times before. So, he waits in his room until Leslie comes up to tell him that Tim will be fine.

“Ok, good. Thank you, Leslie.”

Leslie nods, and walks back out. Bruce puts his head in his hands.

I can’t believe that I let my teammates hurt my partner. What would I have even done if he hadn’t been ok?

Bruce spends the rest of the night overthinking with his anxiety overcoming all of his rational thoughts.

[darkfictionjude]

Nia in my opinion is kind of the opposite of messy? Sure she’s unapologetic, but it doesn’t come across as malicious unless you give her a reason? She just kind of seems like the kind of person who measures things in terms of efficiency and her own desire for it.

I don’t think that’s messy or even necessarily bad/mean/assholish?

In some ways she’s very blunt and in others she’s got more tact or subtly, and it’s quite literally because she’s whatever she has to be to get the results she wants. And she’s gonna do it without sucking up. Like Crown is an unreliable narrator, in fact if you think about it, every pov to ever exist is unreliable.

Nia is going to have different goals, priorities, morals, and fears. Which means every situation is going to be interpreted differently than MCs.

I think a lot of the criticism that Nia gets, stems from outdated ideas of how afab people should be.

Like because she’s a girl she’s supposed to come pre-installed with beaten down fifties housewife programming? That’s not to say career women and housewives are completely different species. It’s to say that people will be who they are or who they want to be regardless of whether or not it fits your idea of how it should be. And no one has clean cut emotions perfectly labeled at all times. Emotions are complex and quite frankly, she has amazing control over herself, especially when you take into consideration that she’s nineteen and has been aware of the fact that she’s been in danger of getting murdered for years now (not even taking into consideration that she thinks it could be her best friend that she may or may not potentially have feelings for, realizing it’s not them, or at least not just them. So now she may be wrong, and she took what essentially amounted to unnecessary precautions maybe but now you want her to feel sorry that she was trying to ensure her own survival? Come on now, be realistic). Oh, and the fact that her only parental figure is a workaholic that is way too obsessed with image. All things considered she turned out great.

And while it wouldn’t be the first word I’d use, when you take into consideration her behavior in general, she is unbelievably soft to MC sometimes in this time of frustration and conflicting emotions. Even verbally sparring, it’s not the same vibe as when she doesn’t like someone. Or even Imre. Like, even as he gets friend treatment and MC gets ignored, or whatever else people are complaining about, the way she’s written still gives the implication that MC is special, a special case, special to her, there’s this effort that seems to come across very well in the way she interacts with MC (effort to ignore, to push away, to not fall into old habits) that is not there for any of her interactions with any other character.

So yeah. I wrote this big long paragraph to essentially say: I wish people would get off Nia’s dick, like her, don’t like her, but Jesu fucking Cristo, can we stop acting like she’s the most unhinged, alien, indecipherable, devil woman to ever exist? She’s not even the biggest red flag in this game.

“Or even Imre. Like, even as he gets friend treatment and MC gets ignored, or whatever else people are complaining about, the way she’s written still gives the implication that MC is special, a special case, special to her, there’s this effort that seems to come across very well in the way she interacts with MC (effort to ignore, to push away, to not fall into old habits) that is not there for any of her interactions with any other character.”

This part though this why I love when you guys give me your own interpretation of characters because it makes me see things I haven’t before. She does make an effort to ignore, to push away, things that are hurtful but the key point is that ironically enough she makes more of an effort with Crowny than with anyone else even if it’s not a positive thing she’s doing. Kind of like that saying the opposite of hate is indifference. She’s trying so hard to be indifferent and that is contradictory because the whole point of indifference is that you don’t try you just are

I do think most people’s initial gut reaction has mellowed. Because it used to be that they saw that Crowny said Nia left them and they would refuse to listen to anything beyond that and just tell me how she was the devil incarnate. Now it’s more that the people who don’t like her at least can see why she believed she had to do this even if they still are angry about the abandonment which is great cause frankly I’ve explained all I could as it did feel at times that people wanted me to validate their hate for Nia by saying something that would make her seem worse and when I didn’t, it’s a whole thing. Like really you don’t need my validation to hate a character and I’m my side I’m not going to say something just to please

[revelboo]

oguh dude youve got me on a starscream kick, i love how you write him so much. not a request (cuz im not sure if you take them) so much as it is a brain dump but godddddd he seems like he'd be such a sucker (affectionate) for a tender touch. running your hand along the back of his, over his knuckles. affectionately headbutting his lower jaw/just in general bc i think he'd think cuteness aggression is adorable, once he figures out what it is and that you arent actually trying to do any real damage so much as its just... processing. in a very cute, very strangely human sort of way. akin to those harmlessly angry kitten videos, maybe- like the one thats wiggling its paws through the bars of an open crate. oguh but on the more romantic side of things?? kissing his knuckles. or his finger tips, either or, and maintaining eye contact while you do. im not sure how to feel about him but youve got me feelign some kinda way (affectionate) about him, thats for sure

Yes! I love the idea of big, powerful Cybertronians being undone by a little softness or affection because they’re just so unused to it and don’t know how to react.

Everything is Alright Pt 21

Starscream x Reader

• Venting in bemused affection, he flexes his servos, tapping the end of one against his berth. You scowl up at him. Such a dramatic little thing. He’d only set you down to retrieve a clean drying cloth and you’d run straight for that old polishing cloth he gave you. Now you’re backed into a corner, shivering and so thoroughly wrapped in the cloth only your face is visible. All because he’d destroyed your soiled coverings. Hadn’t he told you he’d replace them?

• He means well. He does. You have to keep repeating that in your head as you smother the urge to just scream as he crooks a finger at you, expecting you to come to him like an obedient, little pet. And despite yourself you want to, you’re wet and cold. Curling up against your giant alien space heater sounds wonderful. Except you’re naked under the blanket and as stupid as it is, you’re embarrassed about that fact. He probably couldn’t care less, but you do. “I need clothes.”

• Optics narrowing, he presses his palm to the berth and leans forward. It’d be easy enough to just grab you. Wings flicking, he can’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this. Hadn’t you told him cold was bad for humans? “Come here,” he growls, letting some of his annoyance at your little rebellion color the words. And there it is. Face reddening, you sullenly walk toward him and he’s able to carefully curl his servos around you, lifting you up so he can sit with you. As soon as he tries to tug that cleaning cloth away, you frantically swat at his servos again and he smiled despite himself, because really?

• Really?! Grip going white knuckled on your pitiful cover with one hand, you slap at his servos. Not that you can really stop him, but it’s the principle of the thing. And the not being naked factor, because you’ve reached your humiliation limit for the day. “I’m fine,” you hiss through your teeth, shoving at his hand. Venting so hard, you feel the blast of warm air, he actually growls at you. And then the world drops out from under you.

• “For Primus’s sake.” A scream lodges in your throat as you suddenly fall without actually falling. An arm hooks around you, fingers gripping your chin to turn your head. “You’d think I’m trying to skin you, the way you act,” snarls a gruff voice right in your ear and your stunned brain just can’t. Because your giant, alien robot isn’t so giant and you really just can’t deal with it. Or the fact that you’re sitting across his legs as he uses the end of your blanket to rub your hair dry a bit too roughly. You wonder if this is what having a heart attack feels like, because you can’t breathe and your heart is rabbiting against your ribs. Trying to get your brain to work, you crane your neck to stare at his face as he scowls down at you. He’s still much bigger than you, just not giant and you can’t manage anything besides staring dumbly.

Previous Next

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 5

A/N: This is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up with Elvis having traveled from 1960 to 2010 and then refusing to leave. Make sure you come back for Chapter 6 soon!

Special shout outs to @ccab and @elvisfatass for listening to me go round and round about this fic constantly! I love y'all so much!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Also, drinking and possible alcoholism.

Word count: ~2.8k

"Oh my God, Elvis. What have you done?!"

******

You look at him with your eyes wide and he takes a deep breath.

"I made a decision. And I'm happy with it." You shake your head and feel the tears forming in your eyes.

"No no no! This can't be the way it is! You have to go back!"

"It's too late now. Are you saying you don't want me?" A moment of panic flashes across his face at that thought. You grab his face with both hands and look into his eyes.

"That's not what I'm saying at all. You know I love you more than anything. I'd give anything to have you here with me forever."

"I am here!"

"But I know your future. This is wrong."

"Maybe my future is different now."

"No. That's not possible."

"Y/n, what's done is done. Can we just enjoy the fact that we're together and stop worryin' so much about how it might change things?"

You know you can't, but for his sake, you'll at least stop arguing about it. You'll figure out a way to get him home. Somehow.

"Yes. I am glad that you're still here."

"There. Now that's better." He wraps you in a hug and kisses your forehead. You realize that you're both still sitting there with nothing on and reach for your sweatshirt.

"No, come here." He pulls you to him until you're settled in the crook of his arm. "We never get to do this. One of us always leaves. I just want to hold you like this for a while."

When you realize he's right, you revel in the closeness of just laying there naked together. He plays with your fingers, kissing the tips of them periodically as you talk. He starts by telling you about the army, but that moves into a conversation that's deeper than anything you've had so far. You talk about faith, what it means to be alive, and what you both want to do and be before your time is up. There's a deep intimacy in this moment with him and you love him more by the second. You've never had a connection like this with any other person before. It feels like he's a part of you and the longer you're together, the stronger that feeling gets.

After a couple of hours, you get to a small lull in the conversation and you hear his stomach growl. You roll onto him and put your chin on your hands.

"Should we go get some food?"

"Food would be good." He smiles. "You got a diner in this town? I need a burger and shake."

You laugh at the thought of trying to find a classic style diner for him. There's one place in town he'd probably love, but they have a whole wall dedicated to pictures and memorabilia of him. So that's out of the question.

"Not a diner, but we'll find somewhere that has what you want."

"Not a diner?"

"They're kind of out of style."

"Oh." He laughs and remembers that he's not in 1960 anymore. "Speaking of out of style, I can't wear this uniform around."

"Yeah we need to go shopping. We'll just go to Target real quick and then get some food."

"Target?"

"Yeah it's kind of a superstore. Like Walmart but better."

"Walmart?"

"God sometimes talking to you is like talking to an alien. Just get dressed and we'll go." You stand up and throw his pants at him laughing. He gets a serious look on his face.

"Wait. Are there real aliens now? Have you been to space?" You try to match his serious tone.

"Yes. I went to Mars for vacation last year."

"What? Really?" His eyes are huge. You can't stand it anymore and the laughter comes pouring out of you.

"No! You goofball. No, I've never been to space. And if there's aliens, we haven't met them yet."

"Well, I don't know! 50 years is a long time for things to change!" As if on cue, your phone rings on your nightstand, playing a pop song. You grab it and see that it's your mom calling.

"Ugh." You toss the phone on the bed and he stares at it.

"What is that?"

"Oh lord." You shake your head and pull on some underwear and a bra. "How do I explain this? It's a phone."

"That's a phone?! Where is the cord?"

"It doesn't have a cord. Unless it's charging. It has a battery."

"And it plays music?"

"Yeah, that's my ringtone." He glances at it again.

"Wow. Can I see it?" When it finally stops ringing, you unlock the screen and hand it to him. He holds it like it might bite him. His response to technology is unbelievably endearing. He loves the idea of it, but he's also wary of it. You finish getting dressed while he experiments with the touch screen, accidentally opening apps and asking you to fix it. He's amazed when he finds the weather app. You show him that it's not just a phone, but a calendar, clock, calculator, and camera too.

"It does all kinds of things. It even has the internet."

"Internet?"

"Yeah, it basically has access to all of the information in the world. People put stuff on the internet and we can see it. Like, here." You take the phone and open a webpage to Google. "Ask a question."

"What kind of question?"

"Anything you want."

"Are aliens real?" You smile and type that into the search bar. You walk him through how to click on the websites to find the answer, even though his question can't really be answered.

"You can ask it pretty much anything." He looks at you with his eyes wide and you realize he's still standing there in just his underwear.

"Can I have one of these?"

"Maybe. Depends on how long you're here. But right now you need to get dressed." You take the phone from him and hand him his shirt. He throws it around his shoulders and buttons it and you hear him mumble under his breath.

"That's goddamn incredible."

******

After you shop and eat, you head back to your house to hang out for a while before you get ready to go out that night. You have plans to go with your friends to your favorite local bar that does karaoke on Sunday nights.

You make some spaghetti for dinner and eat it together in your living room. He compliments your cooking, even though you know it's very basic. Still, he eats two whole bowls, so he must like it a little bit. After you eat, you go to get in the shower to get ready to go out.

"Can I come?" He asks with a devilish grin. You know where this is headed, but you're not exactly complaining.

"I don't know, can you?" You respond slyly.

"Oh, I think I can." He laughs and slaps your ass. You both strip naked and tumble into the shower together. You get mostly clean and then his lips crash into yours in a fury of passion. You press your naked body against his and he turns the shower off. He wraps you in a towel and gets one for himself before walking you backwards into your bedroom. After you're dry, you both drop your towels to the ground. He grabs the back of your thighs and you jump so that your legs are around his waist, your mouths still pressed together in a passionate kiss. When you make it to the bed, he lays you on it and kisses down your neck to your chest, not stopping until he gets to your core. It's clear he's practiced since the last time you were together, since he moves his tongue on you with no hesitation.

"Oh my God, Elvis." You moan. He really knows what he's doing now. His tongue moves over and around your clit skillfully and he slides two fingers inside you to tickle the spot that makes you crazy. You feel the coil of your orgasm tighten and you grip the sheets with both hands. When you look down, he's looking up at you, face buried in your pussy as he watches you revel in the pleasure of his mouth on you. He stops just long enough to whisper into you.

"Come for me, baby." He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you while his tongue makes a point and licks directly over your sensitive bud. You cry out as your climax slams into you, pushing electricity out to your fingertips and back again. Wetness spills out of you onto his hand and he pulls back, smiling. He slides his fingers out and wipes his face with his other hand. He goes to line himself up with you, but you push him onto his back and situate yourself between his legs. You've learned a few things too.

You pump his cock with your hand for a bit, sliding his foreskin back, and then lean forward and lick a slow circle around the sensitive head.

"Oh, fuck, baby." You open your throat and push him as deep as he'll go into your mouth, pressing your nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him. He leans his head back and opens his mouth. You continue to bounce on him quickly and he grabs your hair to hold it while you move. You slide your tongue up and down the bottom of his shaft and then swirl it around the tip again. He pulls your hair gently and thrusts slowly into your mouth. When you can tell he's getting close, you suck off the tip with a small pop and then look up at him. You kiss back up his body and he flips you over onto your back with him on top of you and pushes into you passionately.

"Sorry, honey, I couldn't wait any longer." He pants as he drives into you over and over again. You whimper in response, obviously not complaining about his pace. Your breasts bounce as he pounds into you and he watches them match his movements. You wrap your legs around him and he groans with the change in sensation.

"You like this, baby, when I give it to you hard like this?" He whispers in your ear as he fucks you with all his power.

"Yes, yes! I love it!" You respond, nibbling on his earlobe.

"Good. That's my good girl." He continues to slam his hips into yours until neither of you can stand it anymore and you come undone together, your orgasms hitting you at the same time. He shudders and groans and you cuss and flutter around him. Finally, he rolls off you and you both lay there breathing heavily. He leans over and kisses your shoulder gently.

And then you hear it. The buzzing sound. You sit up frantically, but a lightbulb goes off for him.

"Y/n! The portals!"

"What about them?"

"They open when we have sex!" He looks at you excitedly.

"Yeah, and?! You need to go!"

"No. I don't."

"Elvis, I'm not having this fight with you again."

"No, honey, I just mean I don't have to go right now. If this one goes away, we'll just make another one." You look at him with your eyes wide. He's right. Every time you've had sex, a portal has opened. It's like the connection between you is what's causing them to exist in the first place, so this ultimate expression of your connection forces them to open.

"You're right!" You laugh and he grabs you and pulls you close to him.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not right now." Not ever, he thinks to himself, but he'll break that part to you slowly.

The portal disappears with a pop and you stay there in his arms. But how many portals is he planning to ignore?

******

Later that night, a few of your friends come over to pre-party for the bar. Several of them recognize "John" from the last time he was around and he greets them happily.

One of your friends busts out a bottle of Fireball and starts pouring shots. You take one and drink it and Elvis holds one to his nose cautiously.

"Aw, come on, John. I know you like girly drinks. This is basically candy." Katie teases him, remembering his love for Malibu and pineapple.

"Haha." He mock-laughs teasingly in return. Then he closes his eyes and tosses back the shot. He winces a bit and then opens his eyes.

"Damn, alright, that's not bad." Everyone laughs and they pour another round of shots. He only does one more, but you do three. He looks at you with mild concern, but doesn't want to be the guy to tell you not to have fun.

Either way, you're feeling very relaxed by the time you get to the bar. You settle at a long table with your friends and lean over into his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, half because he wants to touch you and half because he's holding you upright. You're the first one of your group to volunteer to sing and despite the amount of alcohol you've had, he's amazed at how you sound. Your voice is soulful and strong and it makes him love you even more. When you get back to the table, they're pestering him to sing.

"Sing an Elvis Presley song. We know you know them." You make eye contact with him nervously, but he shrugs. There's no way they would ever know who he is, even if he sings. He goes up and talks to the DJ and then settles behind the mic. The first few bars of Jailhouse Rock come through the speakers and he starts to sing.

You've never seen him sing on stage before. He's just as electric as they said he is and you're spellbound. All your friends clap and cheer, but you sit there in silent amazement. He does a few dance moves as he sings and you understand why girls threw their underwear at him. You'd drag him off the stage to the bathroom right now, if you could. You half consider it for a second, but he finishes the song and takes a bow. When he walks back over to the table everyone gushes over how much he actually sounds like Elvis. He laughs and thanks them and then you grab him and pull him into a deep kiss right in the middle of the bar. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Honey, there are people everywhere."

"I don't care." Your words are getting a little fuzzy, since you've had two more drinks at the bar.

The rest of the evening passes and you continue to drink while he continues to watch you worriedly. You both sing a couple more songs and finish with Love Me Tender as a duet. You never lose your ability to sing, but when you stumble and he has to catch you on your way back from the stage, he decides it's time for you to go home. Katie agrees and volunteers to drive you both home. You try to argue, but your words are so slurred at this point that it's a lost cause. On the way to the car, he actually goes ahead and picks you up to carry you.

In the car, you go on and on about how much you love him and how much you love watching him sing. You actually even call him "Elvis" a few times and Katie raises her eyebrows.

"She's so drunk. She must think I'm the real thing." He laughs nervously. "Does she do this a lot?" Katie shrugs.

"Yeah. It started a couple years ago. She went to Memphis and came back different. I'm not sure if something happened to her or what."

He looks at you where you've fallen asleep in his lap. Leaving him in 1958 must've been harder on you than he thought.

When you get back to the house, he has to carry you inside. Katie offers to take care of you, she's done it a lot recently, but he says no.

"I've got 'er. Thanks for the ride." She nods and he takes you into the bedroom. He takes off your shoes and your jeans and is trying to sort out your bra clasp when you sit up in the bed.

"Oh no."

"What?" He gets his answer when you run to the bathroom and puke. He sighs deeply and then goes to help you. Luckily, his time in the military taught him a few things, so he brings you some water from the kitchen. Then, he holds your hair and rubs your back while you're sick. Eventually, your stomach is empty, so he gets you to drink some water and get back in the bed. There, he holds you to him and kisses your forehead. You mumble into his chest.

"I love you, Elvis."

"I love you too, honey." He settles in to sleep, worried about how you truly were while you were apart. He never even thought to ask if you were okay. In his mind, it's his fault that you're like this. There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

Until Chapter 6!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @rjmartin11

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! I'm looking for a game in the space opera genre, and I'd love some suggestions. More specifically, I'm trying to find something that's pretty easily customizable or setting-agnostic. Pretty soft as far as sci-fi is concerned, even science fantasy. (And my players have a very brief attention span when it comes to learning rules, so some degree of simplicity would be appreciated, too, haha!)

For context, I have a friend who loves worldbuilding and has fleshed out a whole galaxy, and I want to run a one-shot set in his world for his birthday. In the past, we've tried using a homebrew amalgamation of D&D, SW5e, and miscellaneous other bits, but I want to find a system that fits a bit better.

Thanks for the help! 😁

Theme: Simple Space Operas.

Hello friend, this sounds like such an awesome idea! I think I’ve got a few pretty good options for you to take a look at. Many of these games pull from Star Wars as their idea of what a space opera is like, but not all of them do. Also, don't forget to check the bottom of the post to see what I've recommended in the past!

Laser-Ritter, by Bad Quail Games.

Laser-Ritter is an analog adventure game about swashbuckling heroes journeying among endless stars to embrace their destiny. There are rendezvous in hazy tap rooms, chases across distant moons, and showdowns with the forces of galactic evil. We play to find out how our Laser-Ritters follow their passions and face their pasts to triumph over adversity.

Laser-Ritter gives space for you to create your own saga. There's no burdensome timeline of canon events or overwhelming lists of characters, spaceships, and alien species to be contradicted. Every group begins their saga by creating their own dramatic title crawl to establish what's happening when the adventure begins!

This is a game all about embracing your destiny, with plenty of space to build your own universe. The game can be played episodically, or cover a long-spanning story over a series of sessions. This means that if you just want to run a one-shot, it can be pretty easily self-contained, but there’s also room to expand the game.

Players in this game have 4 stats and a health track labelled Vitality. You also have something called a Pathos track, which represents how attrition and trauma affect your character. If you fill your Pathos track, your character becomes vulnerable to dying. If you want a game with dramatic action and tragic scenes, Laser-Ritter might be for you.

Galaxy Goons and A Goons’ Guide to the Galaxy, by John Erwin.

Galaxy Goons is a space fantasy adventure hack of the Ennies-award winning Tunnel Goons. If you want a light-hearted game about rascals just trying to make their way in the universe, this is worth checking out. Tunnel Goons is known for being pretty light-weight, and Galaxy Goons is true to this legacy. Your characters are rolled randomly, with stats used to add onto dice rolls to try and beat a difficulty level.

A Goon’s Guide to the Galaxy is made for the same kind of setting, but uses a different set of rules, namely the 24XX SRD. This means that instead of just rolling d6’s, your characters will have a few things that they have a d8 or d10 for, and there might even be a few skills that only allow you to roll a d4. 24XX games also tend to carry roll tables to help the GM come up with obstacles and goals, so that might help the GM decide what about this homemade galaxy might be interesting to follow.

Rebel Scum, by 9th Level Games.

REBEL SCUM tells the story of how scrappy, anti-fascist heroes can fight back against a government with unlimited power (including giant lasers and space magic). Inspired by a love for a certain line of 3 and 3/4 inch action figures, this is a fast paced, feel good, space opera of rebellion and adventure.

In this TTRPG, characters are all expressed as action figures, with their pertinent stats and abilities "on the back of the card." Choose your toy and get out into battle!

So Rebel Scum borrows very obviously from Star Wars, but of course the book can’t just put the game in the Star Wars setting, so they create their own. What this means is you can pretty easily throw out that lore and build your own world, although the expectation in this game is that your characters will be working to overthrow some sort of galaxy-wide power. The rules are very simple to learn - in fact the booklet is under 100 pages, and that’s including art, setting, and example characters. If you have a standard set of polyhedral dice (and I’m assuming you do, if you’ve played D&D) then you’ll be able to play this game.

Save the Universe, by Don Bisdorf.

Tyranny and cruelty have spread across the galaxy, and only you can stop it!

Save the Universe is a sci-fi adventure roleplaying game in which the players create their own great galactic menace and then portray the brave heroes battling against it.

I think the biggest pull for this game is that it encourages you to build your own galaxy. The game even comes with a number of questions for you to answer, and if you already have a world decided, you can slot in the answers according to your friend’s world. In fact, assigning world creation to one player is actually a recommended option in the game!

Even though this game is pretty open in terms of the details of your galaxy, there’s still an overarching theme of an Empire or large enemy that your characters will be resisting. Then again, I have a feeling that’s a common theme in space operas.

Plerion: Space Opera Adventure Game, by Zotiquest Games.

Intrepid spacers ply the vastness of the Five Galaxies in search of fortune and glory.

This is Plerion, a sci-fi hack from Cairn designed to play radiant space opera. Inspired by classic science fiction and the RPGs that emulate it, but with a more modern twist, winking at transhumanism and cyberpunk.

Plerion is an adventure game for one referee and at least one other player. Players act as hardened spacers exploring, exploiting and commerce through the vastness of space in the far future.

The author of this game cites Mass Effect, the Traveller roleplaying game and the Wayfarer series by Becky Chambers. Cairn, the game that inspired this one, is a game that makes survival difficult and daunting for the players, and asks them to put the fiction first. This means that combat shouldn’t always be the answer. Instead, players are encouraged to find ways to solve problems using their tools at hand, which is a common trend in many of the games that inspired this rule system.

What’s So Cool About Outer Space, by Jared Sinclair.

WSCAOS is a tiny little system for going to space no matter where you are! 

This is an incredibly tiny game, with just two pages to print out and use as a rules reference in any galaxy you like. It’s also the parent of a number of “What’s So Cool About" games that use the same philosophy - minimal rules, and plenty of agency left up to the group in terms of what possible backstories you might have, as well as what might be considered an advantage and what might not.

No-one Owns The Sky, by Free Radicals Press.

A band of misfits lives aboard a rundown starship, traveling from one frontier world to the next, hoping to make a name and a living for themselves. Along the way, things always seem to go sideways, but the crew holds on, no matter what.

NO ONE OWNS THE SKY is a sci-fi roleplaying game that is rules-light and relies on players to craft and flesh out the universe of the setting as a collective. This game was designed for two or more players. One player is always the referee (REF), a neutral arbiter and guiding force for the game. The others act and play as player characters (PCs). These players, with their REF and their PCs, will tell amazing, collective (and interactive) stories with the help of imagination, dice, roleplaying, critical thinking, and problem-solving.

This game uses a staggered success layout, which means that you could roll a failure, a success, or a mixed success during any given roll. Anything above a 5 is a success! It looks like the game uses more than just d6’s though, so the larger dice you roll, the higher your chances of succeeding. The setting is also up to the players, pretty good for folks who want to build their own galaxy.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Space Fantasy Rec Post

Impulse Drive, by Adrian Thorn.

Syzygy, by Ostrichmonkey Games.