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simp-ly-writes · 9 days ago

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Love Don't Roam

─────── · · For All Time: The Series (pt.5)

─ · · PAIRING: The Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After nearly drowning in the Titanic, you find yourself a few years later in France where two men wait for you in the gardens, a famous painter and later a physician who comes bearing dire news. Now it wouldn't be very "Lady-like" of you to not help out... right?

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, big ass monologue, mutual pining, grovelling, emotional angst, ✨ tension ✨, coarse language, suggestive themes, kissing, eventual happy ending, not beta read or edited.

─ · · A/N: this chapter is inspired by the song "Love Don't Roam" by Murray Gold from the Doctor Who soundtrack :)

─────── · ·

You smelled too much of aftershave and coffee with a hint of honey. Your skin was crawling to life, hot and yearning, your thoughts a whirlwind of how his touch felt, the sound of his voice whispering into your ear- you wanted to scream at your body for thinking it could control you. So when stepping foot back into your TARDIS, you quickly stripped yourself of all your clothings, stuffling the garments into a bin before finding a new outfit.

The first shirt felt too itchy, the next not warm enough. You grew even more frustrated when you couldn’t find the skirt you wanted to wear and felt like a tantrum throwing toddler once seeing the mess you’ve made of your wardrobe. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you hug your knees on the floor, head atop your knees as you stare off into the distance. You are the Lady, you are a Warrior of the Time Wars, a survivor, one of the last of your kind… you do not need-

Your TARDIS choses then to gather your attention, a hum for the engines sounds like a soft coo meant to comfort you, the lights gone dim and presenting a warm yellow-ish colour yet you only feel more frustrated. “Not helping! I’m trying my best not to feel pathetic right now,” you retort to the walls.

The TARDIS remains silent, guilt starts to creep its way up your spine as it was just trying to help. “I’m sorry, I’m just not in the right headspace right now,” you whisper yet receive no reply. Sighing through your nose, you will yourself enough strength to stand and head towards your bed, tossing and turning underneath the covers before holding your pillow.

Drip… Drip… Drip… the distant sound drives you mad, distracting you from your floating thoughts as you rush out the room and towards the console where the lower level has been flooded. I didn’t travel… shit! Shit! Shit! You panic, looking up to the ceiling and rafters that have started to take on water damage.

Slipping on the wet floors, bathrobe caught on a lever and brain a bit frazzled in a sleepless haze, you press in random coordinates with no date or time in mind, just anywhere but here, now! The TARDIS slowly stirs back to life, the internal voice gargles like their mouth is filled with water.

Suddenly you are thrown around the interior of your spacecraft. Lights are blaring and fading, warning sirens sound in your ear, the rush of the water from underneath your feet as you hold on tightly to the console as your TARDIS tips and sprays the water back out into the ocean.

Once the room is upright you shakily sit down in a nearby armchair and flick a switch for the heating to come on. Well… that just happened, you and the TARDIS share a laugh before your heavy head starts to dip into the high back of the chair. Your legs tucked over the armrest as you bury your face into your shoulder, taking in one deep breath before the room fades to blackness around you.

─────── · ·

In the morning, or what you hope to be not fully knowing how long you were resting. You walk out of your TARDIS in a lace white dress, your outfit is complemented by its various small bows as you twirl a parasol in hand keeping the sun away from your face.

Flowers, hills, a small pond surrounded by mature trees. You look back to see your TARDIS become a simple shed on the property before continuing down the gravel path. The hills come alive with the wind causing the grass to stand and wave. Tree branches creek and groan as birds sing high up above. For a moment you question if you’re in heaven as the sun gently kisses your face high in the afternoon sky.

But in taking a deep breath in you feel your nose hairs burn at the faintest hint of gunpowder, a shiver runs down your spine as you realize that the peace of this moment was on the cusp of ruin- the world would forget all about it for years to come…. Humans and their silly little guns, you shake your head, adjusting the hat upon your head with a small frown. It was late March in 1914, two months ahead of WW1 and when you turned a blind corner around a tall hedge you saw a bearded man in a pork pie hat that matched the leather of his suspenders.

His suit was a beige linen, dress shirt a light blue as he offered you a smile, waving you over to the park bench he sat upon. “Is it my time finally?” he asks once you are within hearing view, you pause in your strides, eyes going wide at the sudden sight of tears dripping down his cheeks. You rush forwards presenting a handkerchief in hand as he pats his face gently, holding the material between his shaking fingers.

“You don’t have to say anything, I’ll come willingly. I fear there’s not much left for me to realize here. I’ve lost my second wife, my son, and soon my house and garden to those savages with guns… the world would be better if everyone held a brush. But maybe that's a world only when I’m gone, we best make it quick then,” he smiles up at you before turning towards the swans in the pond drifting elegantly around the water lilies as if trying to put each detail to memory.

Water lilies… you ponder, eyes drifting across the pond to where a record player sits beside a canvas upon the rocks. You then turn yourself around to see a grand pink house with green shutters. Mature veins span all across the lower level making their way up to the second floor where the roof has been maintained with freshly lain shingles.

“I’m no angel, Monsieur Monet, but I can tell you that you have many years ahead of you to finish the scene and maybe it’ll inspire others in that new world you imagine,” you greet the Father of Impressionism with a small tilt to your head, clasping your parasol shut as you take the empty seat on the bench.

The Master Painter chuckles, “you speak with such certainty, are you sure you’re not a higher being? No human should speak in such a way for the light is always changing.” You don’t reply straight away, watching as the sunlight reflects off the waters and dances across the white feathers of the swans.

“I’ve lived long enough to always be certain of somethings,” you respond, patting the hand that rests upon his knee.

“But you look so young?” Claude Monet’s brows furrow as he tries to look more closely at his face. You hum, “it's because I’ve made art.” Monet laughs at your comment whole heartedly, “maybe I should have made less then.” And you join in on the laughter.

“So, if not an angel and most certainly not my nurse or child. What are you doing here in my gardens?” the Painter asks, tone curious with eyes holding a knowing look of what you have yet to place your finger on. He suddenly stands and motions for you to do the same, offering you his arm before leading you further into the painted scene you had viewed many times before.

“That I still have yet to discover…” your sentence drifts off with the wind as you stand on a green bridge. Your forearms lay across the railing as you take a closer look across the pond at what he was painting. The landscape looks serene, pink hues dance up the middle of the canvas parting the blue waters to encapsulate the setting sun. “Waiting for the sun to set?” you comment off handedly, looking to take the attention away from yourself again.

Monet does not look at you, simply staring at his painting with a mixture of thoughtfulness and dissatisfaction. “I’ve been debating all this morning if I should stake a knife through it or try and fix the reflections again,” he lets out a frustrated sigh, taking off his hat and rotating the brim around in his fingers, “I’ve succeeded with the other two panels, it is this middle one that fails me or maybe it is my eyes.”

“Not your eyes, not yet,” you mumble, feeling yourself becoming lost in the painting as you drift off in between the subtle ripples he’s captured. So enraptured by the scene you fail to realize that the Painter had walked away and back off to his canvas. You snap up to attention once realizing he joined the painting, brush in hand, hat castaway upon a nearby stool.

You pick up your skirt- ready to follow along yet he holds his palm out halting your actions. “Stay there, I think I might change this one,” he smiles at you, “as you were,” he orders as you try to resume your relaxed appearance. You hear him chuckle from behind the canvas, you roll your eyes, “you better not be painting me green, Monsieur,” you joke yet receive no response as the artist has lost himself to the canvas once again.

Hours pass you by as you close your eyes, head starting to slip from off your palm as the sun sets behind you. A cough as you stand upright as Monet waves you over and removes his hand from off the stool, offering you to sit. At first you don’t think to take it, gasping at the elegant image of yourself, dress blowinging away with the wind as you lean over the banister watching the lilies float and suddenly you find yourself sat, eyes filled with thankfulness as you grasp the hand covered in paint without a care for your dress or gloves.

“It is wonderful, one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and trust me that is a compliment, you truly are one of the greats,” you smile brightly before confusion clouds over your features as when Monet opens his mouth to speak yet a different voice calls out from behind you.

“I think I see two suns in that image, it reminds me of home in more ways than one,” the voice sounds eerily familiar yet you didn’t think to have ever heard it before. Spinning around you are met with a tweed jacket and bowtie, their smile is large as they bend towards you and press a kiss to your cheek.

You freeze in your spot as does the man before you. He pulls back quickly, clearing his throat before sucking in his lips, “So we haven’t connected yet… alllll-right.” And in an instant you place your finger on who this could be.

“Haunting my past, present, and future are you now?” you tease whilst patting the future Doctors cheek, his larger hand holds your touch against his face, eyes closing briefly to savour the moment.

“You know how time works, darling. Can’t tell you anything about the future,” the Doctor mumbles, opening his eyes slowly to look over every feature of your face with precision, “but you can answer me, when's the last time we saw one another?”

You pause, “well for me it was about a day or two ago on the Titanic, I have no idea where the Doc- well you are,” your spouting smile starts to wilt once realizing the situation, “Does something bad happen if you’re holding me like this now?”

The Doctor's face drops, you can hear his hearts thumping loudly as he scrambles for words. His hands move to gently cup face, “nope, nothings happening to you, not now, not ever. You’re fine, more than fine actually you’re stunning- practically better than ever. But for me… well,” his tone high and awkward, “...I need you to do something.”

You raise a brow, “need me to do what? It best not be you,” you joke, removing his hands from your face to go back to looking at the painting and realize that Monet had gone inside for the night. The Doctor frowns at your lack of attention, moving to stand behind you, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Future you is very physical… noted, you comment to yourself.

“Of course you would say something like that now,” he grumbles in your ear, “We’re both too stubborn for our own good. I remember when your father warned me of that.”

“He hated you, you know,” you scoff at the memory. Your father was furious that out of all the suitors you ‘had to go with him,’ your father’s words not your own.

“He just hated that I was the best choice,” the Doctor stands, puffing out his chest proudly. You roll your eyes, giving him a playful knock with your hip. “If you’re so playful with me now… what's stopping you from going to current me?- Wait, don't answer that quite yet,” his voice goes down a notch, a smirk beginning to form as you hold your breath in wait for whatever nonsense he was about to spill, unable to contain the humour in his eyes.

“Do you fancy me more like this?” he whispers, biting his lip whilst waiting somewhat patiently for your answer. You suck in a sharp breath at his question before bursting out laughing and walking out of his hold. The Doctor appears absolutely mortified and offended before marching after you, “I promise you I am better in many-”

“Oh shush you. I’m not telling you what variations I like the most-” you begin your sentence before getting cut off.

“So you DO have favourites! If you can’t tell me details you can at least tell me where matchstick man sits on the rankings,” the Doctor tilts his head, eyes bright at his new discovery as he practically dances across the pathway stones behind you.

“If you really must know he’s up there and that’s all you’re getting,” you cross your arms, the cool kiss of the night air making you cold. The Doctor instantly notices this, stripping himself of his coat to cover your shoulders. “Thanks,” you smile up at him loving the way his eyes dilate at the sight, “so what did you need me to do?” you ask whilst leaning up against your TARDIS camouflaged as a garden shed.

The Doctor's shoulders drop as he realizes his time with the younger you was coming to an end. He takes two long strides forwards to stand toe to toe with you. An arm comes up to rest above your head, his face leans down to stare into your eyes.

You place more of your weight against the door, head tilting upwards to meet his gaze, exposing your neck. “Well don’t you look gorgeous like this,” he teases. “Doctor,” you strain his voice in warning.

“Fine, fine, I need you to pretend,” he emphasizes, “to kiss me-” he gets cut off by your gasp.

“What?” you start to look off to the side for an escape, the Doctor's other arm cages you in.

“Donna Noble is about to come in,” he looks down at his wrist watch yet just before you can look down to double check the time he grabs your chin, gently tilting your head back up with a smile, “just under a minute to try and convince you to stay, and as you can tell by my sudden appearance, it fails. Soooo!- above all else, I need you to stop me from doing something to someone that affects the future Doctor, this Doctor,” he raises his hand, pointing at himself and then the surrounding environment, “and the whole universe,” before placing his hand on your hip.

“Ah so this current ordeal is a canon event? And how am I going to distract you if I’m standing here with future you?” you swallow deeply. “Mhmm,” the Doctor hums back, a wild look in his eyes as you lick your lips and you don’t know what question that hum answered.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you try another angle to get your questions answered, the Doctor just presses his body closer against your own, disregarding your comment. “Place your hand here please and oh, you are ahead of me,” he kisses your cheek again in praise with a chuckle.

“Doctor,” you warn more breathily than the last. “Sorry,” the Doctor replies instantly and you can tell for a fact that he was very much not sorry.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you grumble, starting to feel drunk off of his affections, fingers struggling to undo buttons and trying to loosen his neck tie. With your head clouded, your legs fall weak at the sounds of the Doctor's short gasps everytime you touch his skin whilst tugging at and wrinkling his shirt to make him look more dishevelled.

“And I’ll be there and waiting to meet you on the other side. Thank you for cooperating, my love,” the Doctor states earnestly, hand sneaking underneath your skirt to rest on your lower thigh. You hear footsteps trailing uphill, looking at the Doctor and suddenly feeling breathless, head spinning, body burning in want that practically make you forget about all those dark years just to feel this warmth, this light in this moment.

“I think this is one of the weirder ways I’ve saved the universe,” you murmur, lips hovering just above the Doctors holding your position as a sudden burst of light shocks you both, you whine as your eyes burn from the flash of a camera, the bubble of bliss popped. The Doctor places your head against his chest trying to recapture what was lost, “I hope you know that I-” he begins to say before you both freeze at the sound of a shout.

“Oi Minster! You get your hands off her! I can’t have you ruining my plan so off you go, shoo!” You are frozen in spot feeling as the Doctor's shoulders bounce- trying to conceal his laughter in your shoulder. “If you think I’m playing around that one there has a very angry alien friend that is looking for something to rip his teeth into and it could be you!” Donna tries to persuade the Doctor from… the Doctor, you begin to giggle too, biting your lip to conceal a smile at the ridiculous scenario you find yourself in.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m looking for something to sink my teeth into,” the Doctor whispers while looking up at you, a dark look passing through his gaze, a finger trails down your spine and then it all clicks together. “You’re using me to distract you,” you deadpan, shoving the future Doctor away from you as you sober up, “You’re making yourself jealous… with yourself…” you pinch your nose, what a mess this is going to be.

“Well If I know me, and trust me I do, you are the best way at getting me to do something,” the Doctor clarifies before waving a hand behind him as Donna opens her mouth to speak again, “and yes, hello Donna. I’ll leave in a moment just have to make sure the Lady here gets to where she needs to go safely.”

Donna stands appalled that this stranger before her somehow knows her name. She looks at you for clarity yet you just roll your eyes before slamming your TARDIS door shut and when she looks back around the man is gone. Great… Just great! She thinks to herself.

─────── · ·

This man! Should have gotten with the Editor at least then I wouldn’t have to worry about greying so much, You grumble to yourself, hands starting to fly across the console as you undo the pins in your hair, massaging your scalp with one hand, typing with the other. Yet just before you pull the lever to launch yourself back off into the space you suddenly remember… the painting!

Darting out of your box and down the hill in bare feet you are surprised to find a lack of Donna Noble when you reach the bottom of the hill yet think nothing of it, must have returned to the Doctor. Grabbing hold of the large frame, your arms wobble as the weight of the wood frame has you stumbling side to side before carrying it successfully into your home and leaning it against a wall.

Out of breath you grip the console, leaning forwards and trying to regain your breath. Yet when you close your eyes, all you see is him. Fuck… you press a hand to your hearts and feel as they jump at the sudden sound of the door slamming shut behind you.

Swiftly turning around to face the intruder you see the Doctor, your current Doctor, you specify looking rather coldly at you, jaw locked, breathing ragged, and is that a drop of blood on his collar? The final thing you notice are his eyes blazing with a passion you had yet to discover what for. He walks swiftly up to you grabbing hold of your wrist as you try and twirl away- setting your hand back against the console as he cages you between his arms and chest.

“Doctor,” your throat dry as you stare up at him with a nervous smile, “any reason for your… sudden appearance?” you lie straight through your teeth.

“I think you know why I’m here, love,” you suck in your breath at his quiet, deep tone, “So you have a choice, you either tell me what happened and who that was or… I will make you forget.”

“That sounds like a threat, Doctor. You know I don’t like to be threatened,” you fire back whilst pushing against his chest yet he does not move, doesn't even touch you, just stares… waiting for your answer, sighing when you don’t. His and the Masters words are so mirrored yet it feels so different when it comes from his mouth, you think to yourself.

“You’ve said my name twice now, which means I’m doing something right, and it's an offer, sweetheart, I’m giving you a way out as soon as I know he’s good for you,” he explains, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead before setting his arm back down. You close your eyes at his touch, feeling the warmth of his fingertips and the small calluses that accompany his touch and your skin comes alive alongside your heart, bond humming with joy as the missing parts of yourselves are rekindled.

“Well for starters, he really is fit,” you nearly cackle but just manage to refrain in seeing the creases that suddenly appear across the Doctors forehead, “and he never failed to make me laugh or become weak at the knees,” a frown sprouts and grows quickly, “he is surprisingly muscular… and just a bit shorter than you but I like that I can weave my hands through his gorgeous hair more easily,” the current Doctor subconsciously runs a hand through his hair, I have good hair too and I’m not that skinny am I? He thinks to himself.

“And don’t even get me started on the suit or suspenders, just adorable for someone whos saved the universe-”

“I’ve saved the universe more times than he has I can bet,” the Doctor fires back, oh he is jealous, jealous now, you smile up at the Doctor, eye’s fluttering as you reminisce some more on the recent memory in your greatest form of justice for the last half a millenia.

“I actually doubt that Doctor, he is older than you and has seen more than you could imagine. It must be a shock for you to have found someone older than you,” you joke, fingers crawling up his arm watching as the muscles relax just in time for your final strike, “and I’m interested in how you’re gonna make me forget you, but indulge me, I’m very curious to know, as I’ve failed to forget countless a times.”

You observe the Doctor's blatant confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a wish out of water and you throw your head back in laughter pulling the Time Lord closer to you.

“That man, Mr. Bowtie, was me? Gosh I really let myself go… I really need you, darling, so I don’t end up dressing like that,” the Doctor shakes his head that now rests upon your shoulder. The tease of his hair against your skin has your laughter converting into giggles as you raise a hand to rest against the back of his head, fingers drifting across his scalp.

“So that's all you need me for? A personal stylist? Quite the fall from being your wife…but if it’s what you want I cannot hold it in me anymore to question that mind of yours,” you press a little further loving the way your husband scrambles with his words, his actions speaking louder as his large palms rub up and down your back in an effort to comfort you or himself you have yet to know, perhaps both.

“No, but if you want to become a professional undresser I would gladly become your partner.” Your laugh warms the Doctor's heart. You can feel the Doctor's smile against your shoulder, feel the small shakes of his chuckles echoing his future self.

“Partner not customer?” you decide to further the joke once your laughs die down. The Doctor presses a featherlight kiss to the nape of your neck, “partner since I would be your only customer.”

“Jealous still, are we?” you pull the Doctors head up from your shoulder, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw hearing as he hums out in pleasure.

“Always. I’ll even be jealous of dirt if it keeps your attention from me,” he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, eyes flicking down to his lips and up again.

“Very much so. You are everything I could ever want, you are my desire,” and yet his words meant to comfort manage to ping that still hurt part within yourself as you remember Martha, Rose, and all the others you had yet to meet and yet to even know of.

“Then why be with all the others? Why destroy me and then rebuild me?- You left me there on that battlefield as our planet burned and imploded, I watched you leave with tears in my eyes and blood dripping down my arms,” you grip his arms tightly, shaking the man before you, your words rattling him more than your actions.

“At first I looked for you, endlessly but always came empty-handed. There was too much smoke, too much blood and fire, my injuries too demanding. If I had known my love, If I had known I would have not had any second thoughts and taken you with me but after a while my brain refused to register you in any way, the mere thought too painful,” the Doctor steps away, walking around in circles as he recounts the scenes of war so vividly he finds himself flinching before forming fists that slam against a wall before he continues to speak,

“In a way, I was terrified that I had killed you somehow, terrified that you would know what I had done- what had to be done because who would want a killer? Even if you were alive, I told myself, you would not want me. I had watched billions die at my command, I've killed millions with my bare hands and watched their lifeforce dry underneath my fingertips. I've listen to over a thousand species scream my name, curse it like the devil, like a god, like darkness itself- the victorious time lord that knowingly let my planet and people burn and die for the betterment of the universe- to create an equal universe where the only one that would have to suffer to such extent would be myself… how wrong I was… but…” the Doctor takes in a deep breath feeling as you press your head against his back.

“...Soon that terror soon took to anger that I was forced away from you. That the universe had been so cruel that I lashed out for a while in the never ending silence of your absence and soon realized that I needed some way to cope. Needed someone to make me forget I was missing my Lady, my wife, so that's when the companions came in. Mostly platonic but I could when I would catch a glimpse of you in someone… I couldn’t help myself,” the Doctor feels sick with himself feeling as you hug him from behind and sob, staining his suit jacket with something arguably worse than blood.

You sob thinking back to the closeness you both used to share back of Gallifrey and then to the Titanic and Monet’s Gardens. You grip him tighter when you hear those screams he tells you off, can smell the blood that has stained his hands just as well as you feel the way it coated your hands like gloves you never managed to get rid of and with a broken voice you ask him to turn around, “please-” but it is the Doctor that falls down to his knees, begging.

He holds the back of your thighs, forehead pressed against your stomach as he shakes, recalling all the grief he has faced and prepares himself for your final rejection that never comes, “I am overwhelmed… parts of me are unsure but I must speak it, I love you,” you whisper his true name with tenderness like easing an old bruise.

The Doctor raises his head blinking once, twice, thrice, “I’m sorry?” he clears his throat and you laugh, trying to haul him upwards to stand alongside you, “I. love. You,” you speak the words slowly and clearly and you can’t help but cry in seeing that brilliant smile appear just for you, just from your words alone as he suddenly picks you up, causing you to scream as he spins you and for the first time in 700 years, his lips are against your own.

Like two universes colliding, time slows to a halt as warmth begins at your feet spreading across your body and warming your soul from the inside out. His touch is grounding, a bit firm but comforting as you both lose your heads, not knowing how to process such unrivalled bliss. His head dips to deepen the kiss, your hands tugging at strands of his hair as his moan rumbles against your lips, the vibrations going straight to your legs that the Doctor lifts with your assistance around his waist, walking you both towards a chair.

Pulling back you make yourself comfortable in his lap, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as the Doctor fails to fully pull away, his breath hot and heavy against your shoulder as he trails open wet kisses all the way up to your jaw, stopping and sucking the skin in all those familiar places you can’t believe he still remembers and you jolt as his teeth nip your ear before whispering inside, “I love you too.”

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─ · · A/N: 😮‍💨 that was a lot, thank you for making it all this way- I hope you enjoyed~ (also can't wait to write about Donna POV next chapter 🤭). No promises on any smut or things like that for now but if I do end up writing it in the future I'll only be tagging blogs that have an age of 18 or above!

─ · · FOR ALL TIME TAGLIST: @posionapple24 @azriel64290 @smallerontheoutside @soniiyi @spirit-of-the-hollow @f0x33 @blackoutdays13 @dlljdhsh @staygoldsquatchling02 @athenxt

#fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #x reader #doctor who #doctor who fanfic #tenth doctor #10th doctor #doctor who fanfiction #doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #david tennant x reader #for all time

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chronicowboy · 11 months ago

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guilty feet have no rhythm | 1k

Eddie doesn't remember the last time he felt like this. Happy, uncomplicated, free. The world is fuzzy, warm where it wraps around him, dips under his feet like it's making way for him. Everything is so easy tonight. And it's not just the alcohol, not the tequila running warm and smooth through his veins.

No, it had been so spectacularly easy before he'd even had a drink. He'd been easy and full of joy the moment Buck had showed up on his doorstep with two freshly dry cleaned suits that they'd destroyed within the first hour of the party. It had felt, for a moment, like the house had taken its first deep breath in weeks when Buck had stepped inside.

They're in the bathroom again. Eddie has lost count of how many times they've ventured to the toilets tonight. All that alcohol, wreaking havoc on bladders and hand-eye coordination and stomachs. This time, Buck's sleeve has been soaked through by tequila, and Eddie hadn't really had an excuse to follow him in here except the thought of peeling himself from Buck's side had sent a wave of wrong through him so powerful he'd thought he was about to throw up the steak dinner they'd sat down for before karaoke.

So, he follows Buck to the bathroom, falling back against the wall when Buck notices him there and smiles brighter than the neon paint on the walls. He watches Buck shove his sodden arm under the hand dryer, and the steady whine of it fills Eddie's brain with a static that leaves him defenceless.

"What does it feel like?" The words slip out the moment the dryer shuts off with a click.

"Warm, wet," Buck answers with a cute little twist to his eyebrows. He tilts his head to the side, looking every bit like the stray puppy on their street Eddie had fallen in love with when he was twelve and his dad had called Animal Control on. "Have you not... used a hand dryer before?"

"No, Buck," Eddie groans, tastes the name on his tongue like a burst of colour. Yellow like a sunflower, or golden like sunlight itself, or pink like a birthmark as familiar to him as breathing. "What does kissing a man feel like?"

"Oh!" Buck grins, bouncing on his feet a little. He almost topples over with the energy that fills him at the question, and Eddie curls his hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and hold him steady only because he doesn't feel so steady himself all of a sudden. Buck leans back against the wall opposite Eddie, getting a little lost in something Eddie can only imagine. "It's..." He sighs, long and dreamy. Eddie wants to catch it in his hands, press it to his chest, feel whatever certainty Buck is feeling now.

Certainty. The word lodges itself in Eddie's throat. That's it. That's what he's been missing. That's what's been making the world feel so... Uninhabitable recently. Eddie hasn't felt certain about anything since that solid weight had dropped through his chest at the graveyard. And even now he's still not certain what that weight was. But he'd been a hell of a lot more sure about that than he has been about anything with his girlfriend.

"It's... What?" Eddie prompts, suddenly, certainly desperate for the answer.

"Life-changing," Buck breathes, eyes the colour of an endless sky.

"How?"

"I don't know how to explain it." Buck shakes his head. "It's not really all that different except for all the ways it's different."

"Like what?" Eddie feels like a little kid, boundless in their curiosity, about to get an answer to a question they can barely comprehend.

"Like the stubble," Buck begins, eyes dropping to Eddie's jaw. "The tilting your head up instead of down, the hard chest against yours, the big hands on your waist." His voice turns dreamy, breathy. Eddie understands painfully, feels like he's just run a marathon. "But it's not really..."

"It's not really what?" It sounds like a plea in the muffled silence of the bathroom.

"It doesn't feel all that different when your eyes are closed, you know?" Except Eddie doesn't know. He doesn't know anything anymore. "But that empty space that's been inside you your whole life suddenly feels full."

"Oh." Eddie rubs a knuckle down his breastbone like he's trying to wake himself up with a sternal rub.

"You should try it, Eddie," Buck says then.

"What?"

The world disappears out from under his feet.

"You should kiss a man. It's—"

Eddie takes two steps and changes his life.

Eddie kisses Buck, and it's everything Buck had said. The delicious scratch of stubble, the slight upwards tilt of his head, the hard chest against his, the big hands around his waist, the filling up of that empty space. Except it's all that and more. It's Buck's stubble, it's Buck leaning down to breach that tiny gap between them despite the shocked noise that Eddie drinks from his mouth, it's Buck's firm chest under his hands and Buck's heartbeat pounding against his, it's Buck's calloused but endlessly gentle hands burning through his shirt just above his hips, it's the empty space in his chest not just filling up but overflowing with right right right —

Wrong.

The blast of the hand dryer rips them apart, and Eddie stumbles backwards, wild and free and oh-so-complicated. Every moment of his life before that kiss is rewritten into a writhing mass of wrong as everything else becomes entirely clear. For the first time in his life, Eddie is certain. Certain of two things: he never wants to kiss a woman again, he never wants to kiss anyone but Buck again.

"How was that?" Buck whispers, chest heaving despite the fact that it hadn't really been anything more than a brush of lips.

"Life-changing," Eddie croaks, the sound of it lost as Chim comes stumbling into the bathroom with a blast of Careless Whisper.

#sami rambles #this should probably be just a ficlet but felt like posting it on ao3 sooooo #911 show #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 spec #911 spec fic #911 fic #buddie fic #buck x eddie fic

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oddly-specific-hermit-headcanons · 3 months ago

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some make-up headcanons!

it's no surprise that in hermits world, make up is not tied to any gender identity, but what's more perculiar is that there isn't even make up as We know it in the magical world of minecraft. the situation can be compared to early human ages of discovering the world of make up

they use lapis and flowers to add some colour, beetroots to make the lips pop, etc. there's no foundation but oh Boy do those who know how to do it mix the magical ingredients to have some fun.

those few people who doubled in the wonderful world of face painting are as follows:

evil x and xisuma had an emo phase. "but Vin! if your minecraft hcs are totally disconnected from the real world, how come emos exist?!" they don't. ex thought it would be cool to use coal to make his eyes look more intimidating, X was inspired by it but actually spent his time experimenting to create a cleaner way of adding face paint (studied how coal and other dyes react to different minerals and everything)

stress, to me, has a permanent blush using the goo of beetroot. it suits her.

when scar was first experimenting with his magic crystals, it wasn't always glass. he even powdered down other crystals to see what's happened and stumbled upon blue (and all sorts of) eyeshadow. he didn't really use that information until s9, it was just so fun trying to colour coordinate his elven robes with the accessories and the colour of his eyes! what if he added a little pop of colour there? ooh!

cub just knows things. doesn't need an explanation

xb! one of the few hermits who actually is connected to the ancient world! was raised by the ancestors of the long fallen civilisation. when a player-ocean guardian hybrid appeared as a race, they wanted to feel connected to their mob elders, so they had an almost tribal tradition of adding make up to imitate some of the features. it was glorious. some believe that at some point the richest of the tribe used gold for their paint, but when xb was born only the placement of the face paint was known, so the hybrids had some fun! (it's waterproof make up too)

anyways I like to think the hermits have gatherings sometimes where they share the art of make up and have fun dressing up. everyone paint everyone. scar and xb come together with the power of the Colour and the magic of the fluid lines to paint bdubs face. he appreciates it very much

Ooh that's super cool, I bet the redstoners figured out how to make blush with redstone

#oddly specific hermitcraft headcanons #hermitcraft headcanons #hermitcraft #evil xisuma #xisumavoid #stressmonster101 #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #xbcrafted #bdouble0100 #peskyvinot #dude glow ink would make for some awesome makeup looks #mod response #mod eclipse

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 months ago

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Shifting Sands

AN:Hey folks - I had a horny dream and this was born. Absolutely not sorry in the slightest.

In this AU, shifters of all types are known even if they aren’t prevalent, including some subsets where the person has special abilities, but doesn’t actually shift into another creature. This includes our reader, who carries ‘Princess’ genes.

And if you want to know what I was imagining for Lloyd’s ahem then check out this link (ignore the colours, or not 🤭). Be warned, it’s obviously NSFW.

Also, this is un-beta'd so apologies for any typos or sentences that don't make sense.

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Masterlist

Summary: Being a Princess is wonderful, but unfortunately trying to find your Prince isn’t. However, a chance encounter leads you into a relationship with a man who is like no Prince you’ve ever met.

You couldn’t really argue, the state you were in. And you did agree that you probably needed to be checked over and have your bike assessed as well. So, with nothing really to do until the paramedics arrived, you watched as the man paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear.

He was tall. And lean. But you had the feeling that under those faun chino’s and pale blue polo shirt lurked solid muscles, especially when he briefly turned his back to you and you could see the way his pants tightened over his ass. Jeez, you could bounce a penny off it.

Relationship:Dark! Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: Meet-Ugly, Minor RTA, Minor Injury, Naive Reader, Explicit Sexual content, Oral Sex (F receiving), Vaginal Sex, Sting in the tale, Identity reveal, Knotting, Non-Con, Kidnap, Breeding kink, Monster fucking.

You were fifteen when you and your parents realised you had one of the legendary genes. Small animals suddenly lost their fear of you - at first following you and then climbing on you. The birds would sing with you and mammals would bring you things you needed but couldn’t reach, seemingly mind readers. That’s when Mom and Dad sat you down and really explained the world to you. You were a Princess.

At one point, genes like yours had been abundant in the population, an offshoot of those that could cause shifting, but like with your wolf and bear counterparts, the years had dwindled their prevalence. However, unlike them, you couldn’t physically transform (as much as your teenage self had hoped you could change your looks, weight and hair into something more aesthetically pleasing) but you did have strange skills that marked you as different. The animal thing was the main one, but your singing voice had improved overnight, and strangely, your crafting ability had gone from non-existent to May Morris levels. Also those with compatible genes, like the Prince gene found you very attractive and could pick you easily out of a crowd. Men who were Princes found themselves with enhanced hand-eye coordination and an affinity with dogs, horses and hunting birds. Unfortunately, such adroitness didn’t stop them from being absolute douche-bags.

“And then,” drawled Matthew, the latest Prince to invite you out on a date, “I spoke to his boss and got him fired. I mean, who did he think he was? Telling me I couldn’t park my car there, like I was some ‘normy’.” His pouty lips twisted up into a sneer that made him look as unattractive as he sounded.

Your own mouth twisted up, but into a facsimile of a smile, and you nodded noncommittally. You’d learnt the hard way that spurned Princes were not pleasant, and you were glad you’d insisted on meeting him here at a restaurant away from your normal stomping ground. Once you left, you could send him a brush off text and block him. He didn’t know where you lived and you weren’t reliant on him to get back there. You might be a Princess, but you were also a modern, independent woman.

Matthew talked about himself some more, and you feigned interest, making the right noises to keep his fragile ego intact, but inside you were counting down the minutes until you could bring this evening to an end. You weren’t even going to order dessert, because you’d decided you didn’t want to spend more time in his company than necessary. You were starting to lose hope that there were any good princes out there, because this was the fourth date you’d been on in as many months and all of them had been washouts, each Prince more interested in the sound of his own voice and waxing lyrical about his superiority than anything you had to say.

WIth your plates cleared and the check requested, Matthew didn’t really argue when you insisted on paying your share, probably because he was a tightwad. You said goodbye to him at the table, an awkward affair where you had to turn your head to direct his cool, wet kiss to your cheek and not your mouth, and then once he left you retrieved your holdall from the coat check.

You ducked into the washroom to change, and came out in your bike leathers. Who needed to be able to ride a horse when you could sit astride something with multiple horse-power? You passed a moustachioed man going in the opposite direction, and let a smirk touch your lips as he did a double-take and almost walked into the door frame. That reaction never got old.

Outside, you stuffed your hold-all, now containing your dress, shoes and tiny purse, into one of the fixed panniers, before straddling your metallic steed. It was mere moments work to put your helmet and gloves on, before double checking your mirrors and starting the engine. It purred between your legs, powerful and mean, and with a kick to the stand and a twist of the accelerator, you were pulling away into the night.

You were happy to note that traffic was light. Crowded city streets often felt more dangerous than the freeway. Traffic jams made car drivers angry and careless, and you tended to avoid riding when it was rush hour if you could.

You pulled up at a stop light, glad this night was almost over and that you’d soon be able to change into your pajamas and settle down with a tub of B&J before hitting the hay. The light turned to green and you’d just slipped the clutch and started moving when it all happened.

A car - electric you guessed later from the lack of sound it made - came up behind you from further down the street, travelling at way over the speed limit. It didn’t move out wide to give you space, or slowdown, and as it passed, far too close, you flinched. Your knee-jerk reaction caused you to wobble atop your bike. You tried to correct it, but you were already too off-balance.

It all happened so fast, but also in slow-motion at the same time, and you suddenly found yourself lying half on, half off the sidewalk, stars spinning in your vision. You breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d managed to kick away from your bike as you went over so you weren’t trapped under it, but regretted the instinctive movement as pain shot through your ribs. Yeah, some were definitely bruised, maybe even cracked, from the way you’d landed on the curb.

You pushed up, gingerly, onto your elbows and cursed as your head span and whiteness filled your vision. You didn’t have the time to deal with a concussion. However, a heartbeat later you realised that wasn’t your brain reacting, there actually were lights pointed at you. Your dazed brain finally registered the sound of a car engine and the world rushed back in.

There was a man on his knees next to you, an arm stretched out toward you as if to slow your journey back to upright.

“… you…quite…-mble…”

His voice was muffled by your helmet, although you were finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying because your gaze was stuck on the thick, familiar-looking mustache sitting on his top lip.

Ignoring his hand, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in your side, and removed your helmet.

“Not sure you should be doing that, Princess,” came the gruff rebuke.

You shot the man with a side-eyed glare. “I’m fine.” However, moving more in an attempt to get to your feet took your breath away and you immediately slumped back down. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine.”

“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” Moustache man stated. “You need to be checked out. I’ll call a tow company, as well. Get your bike looked over.”

Your brow furrowed and you did some mental math. If you shifted some money from one account to another, and put some of the cost on your credit card you might be able to afford it all. Stupid asshole driver.

Your rescuer seems to understand the reason for your sour expression. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I’ve got cash to burn. Much prefer to let you have some than the IRS.” He gave you a wink and stepped back, dragging his phone from his back pocket and started to make his calls.

His hair was short, faded at the back and sides, and dirty blonde in colour, the same as his over the top moustache. As he talked, throwing glances your way, he gesticulated with his free hand. His fingers were long and tapered, and there was a ring decorating each knuckle. A man with money, and one who wasn’t afraid to flash it, either.

You finally looked over at his car, unsurprised to see a white Porsche. You giggled as you thought about how much he’d have to fold himself to get in and out of the thing, and then winced. Damn ribs.

Having ended his calls, he came back over and crouched down next to you. “How’re you doing, Princess? Only a few minutes and we’ll be getting you checked out.” His eyebrows gave a mischievous waggle and you couldn’t hold back a very un -ladylike snort, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

”Don’t make me laugh,” you wheezed. “And don’t call me ‘Princess’.”

”Why not? It’s what you are. Clocked you outside the bathroom back at the restaurant, and knew what you were almost immediately, even if it was your leathers that piqued my initial interest. You’re certainly a different sort of Princess.”

”That I am,” you confirmed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever met a Prince like you. But that explains the car, the jewellery, your demeanor.” You gesticulated up and down his body.

”Ouch,” he said with a smirk as he pulled a cigarette from a golden holder in his pocket. “You don’t pull any punches do you? I like it. And I can confirm that you’ve never met anyone like me, Princess. The name’s Lloyd.” He held his hand out towards you. “Lloyd Hansen, and I’m gonna change your world.”

Outside of paying for your medical bills and the repair of your bike, you hadn’t put much stock in what Lloyd had stated so confidently. However, here you were, at a restaurant far fancier than any you’d been to previously, and considering this was your third date with Lloyd, it seemed he knew how to keep upping the ante.

The first date you’d agreed to as a thank you. Your ribs had only been bruised and your co-pay had covered most of that, but your bike was another story. It had needed significant repairs to the paint work and the front wheel realigned. Lloyd wouldn’t hear of taking any of your money, but had asked if you’d mind joining him for a meal, just so he could assure himself that you were recovered.

That you could manage. Sitting through tedious meals with pompous Princes was your special skill after all, however you’d been pleasantly surprised.

First off, while Lloyd was firm in his interactions with servers, he didn’t command in a rude, entitled manner. In fact, he even smiled. And that same politeness extended to you as well, from little things like taking your coat and settling you in your chair, to actually asking you questions about yourself and listening to your replies. In fact, his only resemblance to the other Princes you’d met was how immaculately turned out he was, and you had to admit that the way the low light glinted off his chunky gold jewellery was quite pretty.

With your bike in the shop and your ribs still healing, your first date had ended without your traditional change into bike leather and with Lloyd standing with you outside the restaurant waiting for your cab. He hadn’t argued, or tried to cajole you into letting him drive you home, and you liked him all the more for it. And when the cab arrived and he opened the door for you, you found yourself standing up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before ducking down inside. As it pulled away, you couldn’t help but look out the rear window and watch him standing at the curb until you turned a corner. All of this meant that when you received a text from him later in the week, asking if you’d like to join him for dinner again, you found yourself unable to say now. He definitely wasn’t like any Prince you’d met before.

This second date was just as enjoyable as the first and you even found yourself flirting a little, something you didn’t normally do. You stayed for dessert, laughing lowly with Lloyd as you fed each other bites of the sweet treats in front of you both, and even leaning across, your napkin in hand, to swipe a little bit of cream off those bristles. This time, when he’d walked you outside to wait for your ride home, he kept your arm tucked in the crook of his, your body pulled close to his side, and you felt twitchy - nervous - but not in an unpleasant way, where you were looking for ways to escape, but more because there was a heat suffusing your body and a fluttering in your stomach. When he held the door for you, you went for broke, aiming your goodnight kiss onto his plump lips and discovering that his moustache wasn’t prickly like you’d imagined, but actually quite soft.

You’d only lightly brushed your lips against his before stepping back, not wanting to come off as pushy or desperate, but before you could climb into the cab, Lloyds hand had reached out, cupped your cheek and drawn you back to him for a longer, deeper kiss, his tongue playing at the seam of your lips, although not moving between them. When he broke it, moving back to give you space, you’d felt a little dizzy, and found yourself pressing your fingertips to your mouth, as if you could transfer the tingling feeling to them.

”Until next time, Princess,” Lloyd had smirked affectionately, before lighting a cigarette and you hadn’t been able to stop your brain replaying that kiss for the next several hours. You swore you even dreamt about it that night.

The invitation for ‘next time’ came only two days later, and you didn’t hesitate, smiling to yourself like a teenager as you texted him back to accept. Giddy with excitement, you’d even agreed to let Lloyd pick you up, despite the fact that your bike was now as good as new. When he arrived on the sidewalk outside your small apartment you found out you’d been right about how he looked getting in and out of Porsche, but you’d managed to wrangle your giggle into just a knowing smile.

Now, sitting here, in this opulent restaurant, a string quartet playing and champagne on the table, you felt every inch a Princess of old, even if the Prince opposite you was somewhat unconventional in his appearance and demeanour. However, Lloyd was as attentive and charming as ever, smiling at you with eyes alight with humour and making sure you were happy and content. He turned the flirting up a notch, making you giggle and turn your head into your shoulder to avoid his too knowing gaze.

”You really are something else, Princess,” he said as he observed you over the rim of his wine glass. “Funny. Intelligent. Fiercely independent. And beautiful too, of course. No idea how someone hasn’t snapped you up already?”

You chuckled, lowly. “Have you met other Princes? Obnoxious isn’t the word. Present company accepted.”

Lloyd laughed along with you. “You’re not wrong. And I’m sorry to say, I probably have my moments. But not too many, I hope. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” His leg brushed against your’s under the table, the heat of it burning through his pant leg and your pantyhose. You didn’t move your leg away.

“You haven’t so far,” you teased, a smile curling your lips. “And if I’m something else, you’re other-worldly. You’re just so… so… hot!” You rested your elbow on the table, cupping your chin in your hand, regarding him just as hard as he was looking at you. It felt as though you were on the edge of something, fear of the unknown making adrenaline course through your veins. But it was a good fear, one that felt invigorating. Inviting. Did you dare to take the next step? His eyes bore into yours, deep and cerulean, waiting - waiting for your move.

Dragging your gaze from his, you took in the whole of him. His lean power. His muscled and no-doubt powerful arms. You knew what his ass looked like within his pants and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to grab hold of it, naked. You’d even become enamoured of that stupid moustache, fantasising after that kiss about how it would feel against other parts of your body.

It took all of your self control not to squirm in your seat as you once again met his eyes, your decision made.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your back arched and your hands fisted the sheets as your body spasmed from the pleasure washing through it.

It had been inevitable that you’d end up here. Both of you had known what you were offering with the question you’d asked. Lloyd’s expression had barely changed as you’d spoken, other than the raising of one eyebrow. He’d calmly requested the check, throwing a wad of cash, that probably vastly exceeded the cost of your meal, onto the table as soon as your waiter returned. Then, without one change to his normal, gentlemanly behaviour, he’d helped you out of your chair, into your coat and guided you out to his car.

“Where to, Princess?” You were glad he was asking you, seemingly not wanting to pressure you into something you didn’t want, but you’d made your decision.

“Show me your place, Lloyd. I wanna see if it’s as amazing as I’ve imagined.”

He’d grinned at that, before putting the Porsche in gear and peeling away from the sidewalk. And if you’d thought his driving was fast, that was nothing compared to what happened once you finally got to his penthouse. As soon as the door had shut behind you, Lloyd had wrapped you in his arms and kissed you, passionately, and you’d answered in kind, as eager for what was to come as he apparently was.

You hadn’t even realised how he’d been steering you towards his bedroom until your knees hit the back of the mattress and you tumbled down onto it. Grinning devilishly, Lloyd had pulled his shirt off over his head, baring his smooth, tattooed chest and gold necklace. Your fingers itched to trace over every single line of ink, but he’d joined you on the bed a moment later, his body covering yours and kissing you once again as his hands slid between your legs and up under your skirt. Your pantyhose had only provided a momentary barrier, solved by Lloyd ripping them up the middle before pushing your underwear to the side so that he had unfettered access to your core.

He’d swallowed the whine you let out as he sunk two fingers into you, and you felt the coolness of his rings as they pressed against your heated flesh. His thumb had rubbed circles on your clit and you’d immediately began to twitch under him. Fuck. Had anyone ever gotten you this hot, this quick? When he’d dragged his lips from yours, it was to trail down your throat, your collarbone and then the swell of your breasts. Your dress had still covered the rest of you, but he’d by-passed it so that his mouth could join his fingers.

You’d like to say that the reason you’d been so noisy while he ate you was because you’d been secure in the knowledge that no-one else could hear, but that would have attributed you with more awareness than you’d actually had. Your world had narrowed, drastically, to only include the man feasting between your legs and how he was torturing your body with absolute bliss.

When your twitching subsided, and your moans had turned to ragged pants, Lloyd raised his head. “Fucking delicious, Princess.” His hand wiped over his moustache, which appeared to be soaked in your juices. Stepping back, he toe’d off his shoes, and you watched him lazily with hooded eyes as he pushed down his pants. It was hard to miss how his cock pressed against the inside of his black briefs, and your stomach flipped as you realised just how fucking big it was. He was back in an instant though, distracting you from your concern with more kisses and busy fingers that separated you from clothes at lightning speed.

“You ready to become mine, Princess?” He shimmied out of his underwear and you felt him land hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

“Please,” you whimpered, your body apparently desperate for him. You canted your hips so that his cock shifted to lay over your sodden folds. “I need you.” His own hips moved in return, slicking himself up on the mess that coated you.

“Music to my ears.”

Lloyd’s hand moved between you, guiding himself into you, and as his thick length began its slow breach of your pussy, your eyes rolled back, a deep moan leaving your throat. “Oh, god!” He was going to split you apart. You were gonna die, but fuck what a way to go. You clasped his forearms, your nails curling into the taught muscle, as his hips moved gently back and forth to help carve out a space inside you for himself.

“So fucking tight, Princess. You’re gonna strangle my cock.” Lloyd let out his own groan as he finally bottomed out, letting his head hang for a moment as sucked in sharp breaths before meeting your gaze with his bright blue one. “I’m gonna fucking wreck you and you’re gonna love it.”

His hips snapped and you cried out at the sensation. Then he did again, and again, setting up a brutal pace that left you dizzy. Your vision went hazy only able to focus on the swirls of ink over his left pectoral, the creature adorning his skin almost looking alive as Lloyd flexed and moved above you.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled out from above you. “Knew I had to have you, from the moment I saw you.” He changed the angle of his thrusts and fireworks exploded across your vision. “So good, the way you’re taking me, but I can’t wait to see your face when I give you even more.”

You tried to focus your gaze on his face but he must have been fucking you stupid, because it looked as though smoke were coming out of his mouth, but he never smoked around you, and there was no cigarette in the vicinity. It must be the lighting, you decided, especially as his skin was also now looking strange. You reached out your hand towards his neck, where he seemed to have a tattoo that you hadn’t noticed before, some kind of scales.

Just then, despite how full your pussy was already feeling, it seemed as though Lloyds cock swelled even bigger. You looked up at him, confused and in a bit of discomfort, and your breath caught in your throat.

“L-lloyd. What’s going on? Your eyes!” You were scared now, because instead of round, human pupils, his eyes now sported vertical slits. His grinned back down at you, predatory now, a look you didn’t recognise, and smoke curled out from between his lips. You tried to scrabble back, tried to get out from under him, but he clamped one be-ringed finger down on your shoulder, holding you in place as he continued to thrust and his cock continued to grow.

“Stop!” You cried out. “Let me go.”

“Sorry, Princess. I can’t do that. Once I collect something it stays right here. Afraid it’s what I do.” His hips continued to move, his ardour not affected at all by your attempt to get away.

You beat your fists on his chest and tried to buck him off you, but it was as though his weight had increased along with all the other changes that seemed to be happening. It was as you were having that thought that clarity hit you. How could you have been so stupid? So naive?

“You lied to me! You’re not a Prince at all.”

“Aawwww, Princess,” he drawled, condescendingly. “I never said I was. You made the assumption and I didn’t bother to correct you. But Princes aren’t the only creatures that can spot a Princess. It was also laughingly easy to arrange our little meet-cute. A quick phonecall was all it took.” As he spoke, his body continued to alter - his fingernails growing and turning into talons, his flesh shifting into scales that glittered in the low lights. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll like living here with me. I have lots of pretty things in my hoard for you to look at, and, in time, you’ll be round and full of my babies. That’ll keep you occupied.” Another sharp thrust had you crying out again as the pain mingled with the pleasure he was still able to wring from your body. He nuzzled at your throat, a seemingly tender gesture at odds with the way he was fucking you. “And I can make it good for you, too. You’re going to love it when I knot you. Your cunt is going to spasm so hard and cream over me. Be good for me, Princess. Almost there. Almost…”

Each move his body made caused waves of sensations to flood yours, despite the fact you wished it wasn’t so, his ridged and scaled cock rubbing you oh-so-right, even as tears of fear fell from your eyes. Lloyds tongue snuck out from between his lips, longer now and forked, and lapped them up. You sobbed as you felt your orgasm approaching. You didn’t want it, didn’t want Lloyd to have the satisfaction, but it wouldn’t be denied.

The monster above you roared into his climax, his throat glowing as if lit up from the inside by fire, and as his knot popped, locking him into you, you screamed through your own eye-watering pleasure. Your combined cries echoed in your ears as your vision started to turn black, and as you let yourself sink into the escape of unconsciousness you wondered if you’d ever escape the dragon’s clutches.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions,

@nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic, @scram1326,

@steviebbboi @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989,

@kombatfather1796 and because you seemed interested, @chrissymbod

#lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you

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apple-salad · 1 year ago

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Rose Ribbon Embroidery "Mini" Projects (for BABY NYFW) Part 2: Embroidered Bonnet

I decided semi-last minute to attend BABY's fashion show at NYFW!

BABY had mentioned in their NYFW brand description that their newest collection would be a return to their origins, as well as presenting archival items.

You have to dress to impress for NYFW, right? So of course, I had to pull out all the stops and wear my Rose Ribbon Embroidery.

Also at the last minute, I decided to make a few extra complementing items...

A matching RRE kumya JSK, and a bonnet.

What follows is more of a sew-along/journal rather than a tutorial or guide, mainly for my own memory's sake. But if you enjoy looking at my process (sometimes sloppy), I'm happy!

Also feel free to take a look at the more romantic process video I edited.

Part 1: Kumya JSK

Part 2: Bonnet (you are here)

This post will be my process pictures and notes for the bonnet, as well as a matching mask as a bonus.

I don't believe BABY released matching headwear for Rose Ribbon Embroidery, although I've seen an unknown velveteen headbow with rose lace sold with RRE before.

BABY usually coords RRE with the bunny ear bonnet since Ichigo wears it this way in Kamikaze Girls.

I do own this because I wanted to wear an Ichigo-like outfit at some point, but for this occasion I decided to do something different and make a "matching" embroidered bonnet.

I originally wanted to make a hard bonnet with a very defined brim that could show off the embroidery clearly as I don't really like soft bonnets, but when looking at existing BABY bonnets as a reference, it doesn't look like hard bonnets were a thing back in 2004 (and as it is, BABY rarely releases hard bonnets). So to keep with the oldschool theme, the bonnet is a soft one, although I later make some decisions to make it slightly more structured.

The next decision to make was full bonnet vs half bonnet. The bunny ear bonnet is a full bonnet and I think this is technically more "period accurate", but I am not a fan of how they look like a weird hood from the back so I opted for half (plus, that makes construction and patterning easier for me).

I still used my own bunny ear bonnet as a reference for approximate brim dimensions!

The kumya JSK was a little easier to carelessly sketch out and embroider since I was copying 1:1 from an existing design, but I felt I needed to do at least a bit more careful planning for the embroidery on this. I'm quite bad at creating embroidery designs from scratch, but with the mental image of the rose clusters and swags of vine, as well as referencing the embroidery from the film, I came up with this:

I wanted to emulate the embroidery style of the Momoko's (well, in reality likely the embroidery designer Onoe Megumi--unclear if she did the actual embroidery, but it's likely) embroidery, which I figured wouldn't be too difficult if I was also embroidering by hand.

For material, I am using the same velveteen I used for kumya's JSK. Not my first choice and I actually purchased some thicker looking 100% cotton velvet that I thought would be more similar to the original JSK material, but was worried it wouldn't arrive in time and wanted this project out of the way in case things went wrong/took longer than I expected (it did arrive about a week before the event, but it was totally wrong IRL so I'm glad I just went with this acceptable option). I also bought some more torchon lace, so I used that and another lace from my stash.

The colours of the embroidery in the film also seem to be quite different than BABY's dress. I'm not sure if the pink of the roses has faded over the years, but it has a slight salmon tone whereas the film's roses seem to be more of a pale cool/neutral pink (hard to tell with the yellow tint of the entire film) with some variegation. I love the colour scheme of the film's embroidery, but to keep things coordinated I try to opt for the same colours as the actual dress I have.

I only have white silk ribbon in the width I wanted, so I opted to attempt to dye it to match. Previously I have used alcohol markers to colour the embroidery afterwards, but I find the colour hard to control and it tends to bleed into the fabric. I've also tried colouring the ribbon with the marker before embroidering, but without heat setting the colour transfers onto the fabric as well (and it seems like trying to do so with the amount of ribbon I need would be a waste of ink).

I don't have a lot of experience with it, but since the ribbon is silk, acid dyeing seemed like the way to go.

Very interesting photo of ribbon in pot (the pink ribbon gets eaten up by pinwheel roses much faster than I expected so this is the second batch I had to dye--not ideal as they are definitely slightly different in colour but it's not too noticeable). In total, I think I had to dye 3 batches of ribbon and 4 for the pink ribbon as I just barely ran out near the end, and they are all slightly different colours. Thankfully the undertone is the same so it's difficult to tell unless you are really comparing up close.

I thought I would take this opportunity to use the "peach" acid dye that I bought years ago for another project, but this ended up being a mistake as the colour was totally off (maybe the red dye was too expired). I ended up using my regular fiber reactive procion dyes (with heat/acid), because I have many more colours I could mix together, and that was much better. I really should have done this from the start as I wasted perfectly good silk ribbon by making it too dark/off for my purposes (I ended up overdyeing it in pink so it's a usable colour now, but not for this project).

The silk seems to take on dye extremely fast--even just heating up the dyebath will colour it. In some cases I removed the ribbon before adding any acid at all because I felt the ribbon was already getting too dark.

I managed to get a fairly usable mossy green colour for the leaves and vines, however the pink still ended up being a little off/dark compared to whatever BABY used. It's not too bad here as one strand of ribbon, but when many layers are on top of each other in a rose it seems pretty dark. While not ideal, I think it's still okay, especially considering the embroidery colours used in kumya's JSK match nothing else (many pinks will be going on in this coord).

After dyeing and drying, the ribbon is super wrinkled so I ironed it and wound it on some spare card so it's ready to use.

And now I can start the arduous process of embroidery.

Like before, I mainly use a combination of ordinary ribbon stitches, pinwheel roses, and french knot roses. However, this time I try harder to duplicate, or at least evoke the appearance of the embroidery of the film.

It's interesting how plain and somewhat boring the roses look on their own, especially with this monotone colouring. The varied colours of the film's embroidered roses are lovely, but I decided against it here because the BABY dress has monotone ribbon roses.

The roses definitely seem to just be pinwheel style which is very easy and doable, however I am a bit more confused about the leaves. They look like a number of straight stitches in various lengths and directions that fill in a leaf-like shape. I have no idea if this technique has a name and if there is a proper method for it, because I am a silly beginner who is very uneducated in embroidery.

Anyway I do my best and hopefully I got close enough. Ribbon embroidery is really all about the texture, which is really lovely to look at. Except I have trouble looking at my own work for too long because I start nitpicking all the mistakes I made...

Adding the green and leaves really helps the embroidery come to life.

I took even fewer pictures of the embroidery process than kumya's JSK this time because it's not that interesting. I was definitely getting sick of doing the same pinwheel over and over...

I stupidly decided that aside from embroidering the front of the brim, I also wanted a little bit of embroidery on the back of the brim for interest, as well as on the side.

The designs I drafted out for these two pieces is much simpler, but still, more work....

Almost ready for construction! Hopefully a lot faster with the handwork out of the way.

I iron on some interfacing onto the back brim panel and the bonnet band for slight extra stiffness.

The bottom part of the brim is plain cotton sateen because I was worried that the part that touches the head would get dirtier more quickly it if was velveteen.

I wanted some lace gathered around the brim and an extra velveteen ruffle on the back of the band, so I prepare that now. The lace is gathered with a single gathering thread and sewn down before sandwiching between the two brim panels.

Brim sewn and topstitched (and band is ready for attachment).

The upper flowers ended up a little closer to the top of the band then I intended, but I think it's okay.

Gathering brim and attaching it to band. Because the velvet fabric is so thick, the usual "sew one line of stitching with a wide stitch length" not only made the fabric incredibly difficult to gather, but the thin polyester thread also continually broke when trying to do so. Therefore, I opted for an alternative method I think I'd remember seeing in my sewing machine manual of all things--a zigzag carefully stitched over a central gathering thread. This worked much better, although I probably should have used a thicker/extra strong thread as the central gathering thread because it did break the second time I had to gather the brim due to a mistake.

I also add a bit of lace to the inside of the brim. I think this adds some luxury and frilliness between the head and the bonnet's brim, so I wanted to add a small width. I probably could have used even more of the lace's width since it turned out very subtle when worn. But I still think it adds a small amount of interest to the innermost part of the brim and was worth adding.

Unfortunately here after sewing on both brim parts I realize that I gathered both using an incorrectly marked centre line, so I had to rip it out and do it again ;_;

Next, I can carefully align and pin the bottom of the brim to the bonnet and sew it down. I tack this down by hand because I'm not skilled/accurate enough with a sewing machine to topstitch both sides nicely at once (look closely, and my messy stitching is quite visible...)

I also fold in the raw edges and finish the sides of the brim by hand, leaving some openings for ribbon ties.

At this point I spray almost the whole bonnet with water to disperse and fade my markings. Unfortunately, some of the earlier batches of ribbon that I dyed (Can you tell the variance in the 3 dye batches I needed to do?) were probably not washed well after dying and seem to have bled into the fabric from the water...but hopefully it's not too noticeable.

Next I topstitched all around the brim and attached the ribbon ties.

I bought some double sided velvet ribbon in my last minute supplies shipment and made some bows from it. I think the material is a little thick and petersham would have worked alright as well, but the consistent velvet material feels more luxurious, doesn't it? I also think as an added benefit (?) the ribbon being plush and double sided made the bows more puffy looking.

I add some clips to the sides and a toupee clip to the top for security. I opted for a toupee clips because I think it's really the way to go if you don't want the head item to move at all, no matter how thin or slippery your hair.

Finished.

Bonus 1: rose accent pin

I was in a bit of a rush at this point as it was near the end of the week coming up to the show, so I didn't take any photos of the process here but the technique and templates I used were identical to my handmade faux rose rosettes I made for UM (and the bonus corsages). I have a post with all the details of this sitting in my drafts that I will post eventually, and I will update this post when that happens.

The brooch was just meant to add a bit of 3D faux flower accent to the bonnet, bringing in the rose motif even more. Partially inspired by the faux flowers BABY adds to their bonnets sometimes, like on Milk Tea Doll.

The fabric was "custom dyed" with the same fiber reactive dye I used for the silk. The fabric was further starched, cut out by hand, and shaped with flower iron tools before gluing together.

Bonus 2: matching embroidered mask

I wasn't sure about whether or not I wanted to wear a matching mask, but decided to do so for situations when I would want my face at least half-covered in public. I didn't really expect to be visible in fashion show pictures as someone in the back, but just in case. (I think this decision was worth it, although my makeup transferred all over the thing and in most pictures my face was even more unflattering. eh well)

I forgot to take a lot of pictures of my process for this, but it's very uninteresting and not dissimilar from every other mask sewalong from 2020. I draft out a design similar to the bonnet motifs on both of my mask panels (cotton sateen), and embroider.

I should have embroidered closer to the centre of the mask because when worn the embroidery is not very visible/covered by my hair at the sides. What can I do since the panels were already cut though...oh well!

The lining material is some Japanese CLEANSE Ex fabric I had bought previously to make masks during the pandemic. It's supposed to be antibacterial and antiviral, as well as washable, but I have no idea how well supported those claims are.

Sew together normally on both upper and lower sides, turn inside out, add a channel for nose wire and side channels for elastic.

I also have some mask elastic on hand so I use that.

And the finished outfit again with all my items~

Thank you for reading! If you ever feel inspired to take up a similar project, such as the kumya JSK, I'd love to see it!

#lolita fashion #rose ribbon embroidery #ribbon embroidery #handmade #baby the stars shine bright

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sophsicle · 1 year ago

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idk if this will make sense. but 4 obvious reasons i have been getting a lot of dramione fanfic writers on my fyp (don't buy or sell fanfiction jesus christ) AND like, idk if it's just me, but dramione writers feel like. ..real human people, y'know? whereas we, the marauders fandom, feel a bit like tiny sock drawer gremlins or like bridge trolls or something. Not meant for the light of day is what I mean (*affectionately*). like they have very polished profile pictures, and some of them have their whole names out there, and all of them feel like they already have book deals and a house and a car and maybe a juicer or something. like they are the type A put-together big sister to the marauders fandom snotty nosed emo lil brother. YOU KNOW??? i'm like wow, i bet they have day planners and shit. and like. colour coordinated bookshelves. is it just me????? maybe it's just me. they're just sparkly over there that's all im saying.

#obvi the point is it's terrible that they feel they have to take down their fics #cause people wont stop selling and buying them #this should be all of our take away #BUT I CANNOT HELP BUT NOTICE #that there are two types of people #and i do not have a day planner #soph rambles

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differentalpacafestival · 11 days ago

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You know, something I just realized is actually kinda funny.

The sole reason I even know what transgenderism is, is simply because I started seeing transphobia.

"This is so wrong, this is disgusting" etc made me wonder why they thought it was so wrong, so I pursued knowledge.

RuPaul's Drag Race was one of the first queer and LGBTQIA+ friendly media I ever consumed. I was not, and still am not the biggest fan of the drama because I just simply don't like drama, but I saw so many contestants coming out during that show. Grown "men" crying as they admit to feeling ostracized from their childhood communities, their family and friends, saying they've come to realize they're not actually a man, but a woman. I watched a handful of them becoming so vulnerable and stripping (emotionally) completely in front of someone they adored, but also a huge camera crew, and thus essentially the entire world. I thought "How is this wrong? What's so disgusting about this?"

I was 10 when I sat in the school bus after school and talked with some younger kids I was friends with about transgenderism. I don't remember the conversation, obviously, this is like 13 years ago, but I remember telling them it was actually possible for a boy to get a surgery to remove his penis. I remember feeling proud to be the one telling them this, but also appalled that their natural reactions were so strong, because mine never was, and both my parents and my older brother were vehemently against self expression like that.

When I was like 13, I identified as bisexual. I became obsessed with the flag's colours and tried to coordinate my outfits to have a similar vibe.

When I was 14, someone in my class told us after a visiting performance group that the lead singer *wanted* to be confusing, gender-wise. Someone had tried to make fun of the lead singer after their performance, and were quickly shut down when no one followed. My friend explained what being non-binary meant, and I felt so outed, but in a good way. My friend said the singer's long, messy hair was purposeful, that their big clothes were purposeful, and that they never introduced themselves by anything other than name, nor talked about it because they didn't need to; their self expression said everything for them. I remember going to the bathroom that same day and looking at my own long [straightened] hair and baggy clothes and wondered for the first time if I was on the same wavelength, just not the same wave.

When I was 16 I met my first ever trans friend. I quickly developed a crush on him, which, in hindsight wasn't actually a crush, but admiration, and I wanted to protect him at all costs. Whenever our elder teacher misgendered him or used his dead name, I, fairly aggressively, corrected her in front of the entire class to the point that I was yelled at for interrupting and that "she" [referring to my GUY friend] knows it's not on purpose. He never told me to stop, so I never did. We also didn't have that teacher for many classes, and I noticed she started to avoid using pronouns or even his name because I didn't back down.

That same year I found out that a friend I had, but had lost contact with, had also come out. She had socially changed her name when she started a new school, and her appearance had drastically changed from when we went to the same school just a year or so prior. I messaged her, asking if it was true and told her I was proud of her for being herself and that I was happy she had found who she truly was. The next time we met, I slipped with her pronouns, but that was also the only time I ever did. I apologized and we continued our lives as friends again. The next year, after I, too, had started my own self discovery journey, she dead named me, and I dropped her instantly. As a trans person, how do you have the guts to insult someone the same way you have been, even if they're not actively trans? (at the time, I only thought I was gay) Another in the same friend group followed suit after berating her, and after nearly 20 years of acquaintance, she dropped her as well. Apparently, they were never actually friends, they just happened to be the only two who were left out and decided to stick together. Had me and my two childhood friends from a different school not entered the picture, they wouldn't have maintained contact after their last year at the same school. I've also minimized contact with her since, after finding out she blames the entire trans community for everything that's wrong in the world after I came out as enby to her. She has always been protective of me, and has, on numerous occasions said she admires me, but when I learned that she wasn't just not a big fan of the, prior, only trans person in our group, but actually had fundamental issues with her as a trans person, my view of her changed. We had a short discussion about being trans and what it meant, and she argued with the same point you usually hear, like "You can never change your biological sex" and how we're just mentally unstable [which really felt like a personal attack because she knows I am].

About a year after I came out to my friends as enby, I came out to my mom after we had been drinking. I remember my thoughts being so loud when she started her usual transphobic tirade, and just as I was about to tell her, my nose started bleeding. I cleaned myself up and started by saying I knew why that happened, and came out to her on the spot. She stammered when she realized every bad thing and every criticism she has ever slung at the trans community, were also indirectly thrown at me. We've tried talking about it since, but she stands firm on non-binary not being real and how it doesn't matter if one is trans during life because "iN onE ThOusAnD yEaRs-"

My point is that in my peers' attempt at keeping everything strictly conservative, they helped me figure out that I'm a liberal.

My transphobic family's comments made me pursue my own conclusions because they were too emotional about it and never talked about trans people as other civils.

And I find that kinda funny.

#lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lgbtq+#lgbtqia+#queer #transgender #trans #nonbinary #enby #agender #genderqueer #genderfluid #gender nonconforming

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hyuuukais · 1 year ago

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-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n overthinks a lot and isn't very nice or forgiving to herself, food, y/n panicking & hyperventilating, food, blood, suggestive near end

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWELVE -> FAILED ROMANTIC ESCAPADES (partially written, wc: 1.5k)

"Hey, hey, hey." Minho cups your face hesitantly, wiping the stream of tears flooding from your eyes. You're hyperventilating, gasping for air by the time he's arrived to help you as the pan of burnt food lies off to the side. "Here."

He takes a hand and places it on his chest, breathing in deeply and encouraging you to do the same. You try, but its shaky and and you start coughing. A hand comes down to rub your back and you don't even notice how close you are, finally starting to focus on the rise and fall of Minho's chest. Once you've started to calm, he lets his hand fall off of your back, leaving the one clasping yours to him.

"Go sit down," he orders and you try to protest. "No, I don't want to hear it. Go sit and destress with the cats while I salvage this."

"There's no salvaging that," you say, pointing to the charred, inedible... lump on the stovetop.

"So I'll make something new."

Sitting on the couch, you debate texting Soobin and calling the whole thing off, but he's already on the way and the scent of food cooking wafts over you. You feel fucking awful. First, you mess up the date, if you can call it that, before it even started, and now you've guilted Minho into helping you when he was probably in the middle of doing something. What he's making smells delicious and you feel even worse.

"How long?" Minho calls out from the kitchen. The apartment is fairly open, only an island separating that part from the living room you're in.

"Twenty minutes, give or take."

"Touch up your makeup, you cried it all off." Your face reddens. "And wear that pink shirt you have."

"The one with the ribbon?" You ask, confused why he knows your closet.

"No, not that one. The other one with the heart."

"Why?"

"Because it's nice," he says, still focused on the task at hand. "You look nice in it."

You don't know how to respond so you go to look for the shirt he mentioned. It's hanging up in your freshly organized closet, colour coordinated to help you find things easier. Taking it off the hanger, you change quickly and re-emerge to see Minho plating what looks like a professional dish.

Soobin is never going to believe you made that. Your heart drops and you start fiddling with your fingers, standing at the edge if the kitchen and staring as he finishes up. Unwelcome tears prickle at your eyes again, breath picking up slightly. Minhi catches your eye, coming over and looking down at you. His hand comes up to the back of your head, patting your hair, and somehow this helps you calm down.

"He's not going to think I made that," you admit.

"Why not? There are dirty dishes in the sink." Minho turns your face gently to look. "Who says you can't be a Michelin chef in your spare time?"

"Shut up," you push his hand away, barely containing a smile.

"There's our girl," he sighs. "Now, you know-"

A knock at the door, it opens seconds later, a tall man walking in. "Y/n? I know you said to just walk in but I feel weird so I'm still going to wait for you by the door."

"Oh my god." You look to where Soobin's voice came from, back at Minho, gripping your panic by the throat and shoving it away. "He'll see you if you go to your room and I said no one would be home."

"I can hide-"

"Behind the island!" You push him away quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around, you see Soobin hesitantly walking in. "Hey! I was just um... finishing getting everything ready! Yeah, that's what I was doing. I, uh, still need to get drinks though. What do you like? We have a bit of red wine left, sparkling water, regular water, and some pop too. Unless you don't want a drink! But hydration is important."

Your voice becomes small nearing the end of your rambling, internally cringing at yourself, but Soobin just smiles and takes off his coat. "Regular water is fine."

Nodding, you go to the side of the island Minho is on. He's crouched against the side, looking up at you as you open the fridge door. When you turn back around with the jug of water, you can see Soobin rounding the corner and panic, nearly dropping the jug as you kick Minho's leg, silently telling his to go around to the other side. He glares at you, but crawls away just as Soobin joins you, a small smile on his face. Sweat clings to your skin as you set the jug down, sending Soobin a tight smile as you reach for two glasses. They're just too high, but you're determined, which does not end well. One glass is close enough to the edge that you can grab it smoothly, but the other is shoved and falls onto the counter, glass flying.

"Oh my god!" You step back, setting the glass behind you and pushing Soobin away with your other hand. "Stand here, I'll sweep this up. I'm so sorry."

You're trying hard not to cry again at this point, so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you feel like you'll burst. The glass cleans up easy enough, but you still feel terrible.

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

"What?" You look down at the hand you just threw the glass out with and see a small cut running under your pointer and middle fingers. "Shit, okay, um, I'll be right back."

"Oh, okay," Soobin leans out of your way as you rush past him.

"Get it together," you say to yourself as you close the bathroom door, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. "Patch it up and get back out there. Calm the fuck down."

And you do just that, slapping a bandage onto the wound and stepping back out. With another deep breath, you reenter the kitchen.

"Ready to eat?" You plaster a smile on your face, taking the dishes and setting them on the coffee table. "We usually eat at the island, but I thought the couch would be nicer for tonight since the seats are comfier. Is that okay? We can eat at the island if you prefer. Or even up on the rooftop, we have a picnic table up there-"

"The couch is fine," Soobin cuts you off. "Really."

You laugh nervously, watching Minho crawl back to the other side as Soobin joins you on the couch. As you eat and make small talk, you become more comfortable, laughing freely at his jokes and even making your own. After you're done, he compliments the food and a wave of guilt runs through you, but you push it down and suggest a movie. Out of the corner of you eye, you see Minho trying to escape the kitchen, so you fully divert Soobin's attention to the TV, allowing Minho to stop being an unintentional third wheel. Not that this is a date.

This is how you end up snuggled into Soobin's chest, his arms wrapped around your waist as the credits roll. It's dark outside, the sun having set while the movie was still going. You yawn, looking up at him with a sleepy smile that he returns, ruffling your hair a bit and making you giggle.

"I had a good time tonight," he says, and you swear his eyes flickered down to your lips, but maybe you're being delusional.

"Me too, we should do this again sometime."

"I can think of something else I'd like to do again," he smirks and you blush.

"You know we can't-"

"They don't have to know." Soobin uses a finger to lift your chin, barely a breath away from his soft lips now. "We don't have to say anything. I know you like me Y/n, and I like you too."

Your heart is racing as he closes the distance between you, mouths moving together in a rhythm. He slowly moves you onto your back, the hand on your waist traveling down to your hip, toying with your waistband as he hovers over you and deepens the kiss. As his thumb dips under the waistband, it sets in what's happening and the feeling of guilt washes back over you, pushing him off you harshly with a hand to his chest.

Sitting up too quickly, your head spins. A hand is on your cheek, turning you to face the man next to you, but everything is too much and you smack it away. Soobin furrows his eyebrows and retracts his hand.

"I think I should go," he says, voice low.

You don't say anything as he gets up or when he slides his shoes and coat on. All you can do is stare at your hands, skin hot and tingly all over. When you hear the door open, your head finally shoots up to see Soobin leaving.

"I'm sorry-" You get up, but he's already out the door. You stare at the wood, wishing there wasn't something wrong with you.

notes -> i wanna hug yn. so, her family is coming into the picture here... doesn't seem like the greatest dynamic.

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

#-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143 #stray kids smau #skz smau #non idol au #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee know smau #lee minho smau #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x fem reader #lee minho x fem reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #smau #social media au

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chippedshake · 2 months ago

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prompt request: cherry and bob on their first date WALK WITH ME ON THIS ONE

okay okay so I will definitely be writing this in the near future but for now here's the skeleton of my idea because I'm impatient ok (i've never written either of these characters so bear with me):

we open with a Marcia and Cherry scene

Cherry's getting ready to go on her date with Bob and she's kinda not all that excited because she's gone out with guys before and she always thought they were sweet and smart and nice and whatever but they turned out to just be assholes who were into her because she was pretty and popular

so even though she likes Bob, she can't convince herself that he's different from everyone else

I have developed a whole strategy for how she'll pick out her clothes

I love Marcia so even though she isn't in these bullet points you better believe she's gonna be in the fic

Then Bob appears

Cherry describes like an archetype of what first dates are usually like and Bob will subvert. every. single. point.

like 1st one is the guy always shows up with flowers that are always a pain because they die quickly and Cherry doesn't even like flowers all that much but lo and behold Bob shows up with a chocolate chip cookie from her favourite place

when she asks he says she mentioned once that she doesn't like flowers and finds them depressing and that they ran into each other in the bakery a couple months ago and she said it was her favourite place

Bob is down bad okay

1.5th point because I'm adding this later and don't feel like editing everything: the guy will always say "you look pretty" the moment they see her and Cherry doesn't like it because it feel artificial, like it's just their obligation to say it

Bob trained with Bev (idk if you've seen/heard of the musical but she's a Soc girl they made up to be friends with Cherry and Marcia) about what to say to a girl and compliments her earrings in particular and the colour combination

then the 2nd point is that they always bring her to a way too fancy restaurant that neither of them really like

They go out for a picnic and it's actually a really pretty setting and Bob is a terrible cook so he brought like sandwiches or something that his mom had to help him make

also 3rd point. guaranteed awkward silence when they have nothing to talk about, followed by the guy rambling about himself.

First question Bob asks: what do you wanna work as

and they talk about how Cherry wants to be a kindergarten teacher

then she asks the same question back and he says he wants to be a lawyer

when she asks why he just says his dad's a lawyer

maybe a cute moment where she says he’s his own person? idk

4th point: at some point the guy puts his hand on her thigh or something and she tries to wriggle out as subtly as possible

subverted, as usual

I'm sorry but Bob absolutely will earn the "stood out from the crowd" and "he was sweet" title, okay? In Ponyboy’s words: Cherry's smart. She wouldn't like him just 'cause he's good-looking

5th point: they're ridiculously smooth and are still flirting with her on the date, and it feels like they're trying to conquer her or something and it's incredibly uncomfortable

Bob stutters a bit and messes up and goes back on his words and will accidentally make like fifteen innuendos and apologise each time but Cherry likes it because it makes her feel like he actually likes her and is nervous (that's because it's true mijita)

finally, 6th point: they always try to kiss her goodnight even when she makes it abundantly clear they won't be seeing each other again

Bob actually fucking shakes her hand and goes to head back to his car

They end up hugging goodbye and make sure to coordinate a second date

the end

they're very cute and I love them. I hadn't ever thought about them really so thank you for the ask <3333

#cherry valance #bob sheldon #the outsiders #the outsiders book #the outsiders musical #chippedshake

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dreamerwitches · 8 months ago

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WITCH THOUGHTS LET'S GOOOOO!

THEY IMPROVED CARMELA THANK FUCK! They did it for me..! ^v^ She is WAY more coordinated and the colours are sooo nice! The frilly skirt bit is soooo cute! I love how she kinda looks like an octopus or some kind of sea creature. Not sure how well that links with Manaka but eh. I don't think there's much I dislike here. Perhaps the knife rack thing is a little out of place? Not sure. Now as the witch from the doppel hmmmm it seems like the circular bit is completely lost... for link-age, that's not great but getting rid of it to make the design better, i am wholeheartedly down for. She is a big win for me!

Obariyon. I'm hmmmmm not sure. I don't hate it. Why does its head look like a bear? Is it cause like... Obeariyon..? I just don't know if this would be what I'd imagine the full witch to be... The doppel makes me think more of an insect or something whereas this is going for a mammal it seems. It's good but I'm on the fence whether I personally like it.

From the silhouette from the trailer I was super worried about Hevelius but I think I like her? I think her shape is interesting and as stupid as the head is, I think it's fun. But I do have gripes. I'm a bit bothered that the white fabric bit that was so focal before is just completely gone and the head piece and veil is completely removed, like c'mon, that could've been super pretty on her head. And I'm not sure about the coral-looking uhhh thing. And I hate those legs why do they look unfinished? As I rack up the complaints maybe I don't like it..? Hm... I feel like I could improve it using that shape base though. She's fine.

Also... THE HEAD LOOKS LIKE THAT MANNEQUIN HEAD FROM RUPAUL'S DRAG RACE BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER ITS NAME

Now we're getting onto the ones I super like again wheeee! I think Pennen Nolde is so fun, the little matchstick girl theme is ace! I'm sad some super cool aspects of the doppel are gone though... I loved the matchstick thing and the lace and hanging diamonds but eh, maybe they just didn't fit. She's good and I can see it working the other way if the doppel came second. Although the legs are simple, I think the doll legs work and aren't bland like Hevelius'

Pennen Nemenu, ough, I think she's beautiful! I think she takes from the doppel super well! I miss the weird teapot head but I think the head they chose is also cool. Maybe add the tassels onto the end of the hat thing? I love how the main body is utilised into her bloomers (one thing I was sad was missed about Nolde) and she's super cute. My only gripe is her body shape, she is a child she does not need a stick thin waist and boobs, thank you

Now I did notice that these last 3 doppels share a similar body shape and I get that for important, linked characters. I don't think it's a bad thing cause they're all unique enough on their own.

And back to disappointed. My fears came true, I did not want her witch to just be the Nightmare-esque part... sigh... it doesn't even take from it well... no ears? Hair completely wrong colour, face completely different, stripes going wrong way. Like, I get it. Gas mask for poisons, bandage on head for uhh illness (i dont know enough about Alina but she was in the hospital right?) but it's not her doppel. Disappointing.

#madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #witch #madoka magica witch #magia record #doppel #old dorothy #pennen nolde #pennen nenemu #hevelius #obariyon #carmela

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lifeafterpsychiatry · 2 months ago

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Hello! I am a person who's struggled with periods of fatigue + illness + heavy burnout a lot in the past couple years, and I just wanted to share some of the stuff that kept me sane in case it helps you too. I found that doing simple repetitive tactile crafts was really nice, it broke my brain less than anything digital and it was easier to follow instructions for something like origami or crochet or colouring sheets than to think of ideas on my own. It helps to feel fulfilled and keep me busy, and can be done for as little at a time as you need.

If you're not quite there yet or can't do that due to motor issues, I found in times like that that listening to ASMR did a lot for me. Words and talking were too hard to listen to and understand, so I found a lot of talking free ASMR like the baking YouTube channel Chocolate Cacao were good. His older videos are much better imo, they are slower paced and less overwhelming.

I sincerely wish you all the best, and I hope you can be gentle with yourself and remember that time and rest are often the best healers for this sort of thing. Even if it's taking a very long time, not forcing more than you can manage and delaying your recovery is the best favour you can do for yourself. Think of it like a broken bone - walking on it will make it worse, but if you're gentle and wait it out recovery is possible. And: even if you don't get fully "healed", your life and expression of self still matter so much and improve the world you live in. Best of luck!!

~ @theramblingvoid

Thanks, I appreciate it! I unfortunately don't have the coordination/cognitive skills for things like crochet or origami on a more general level, but for now I'm having a decent time with my books (audio when my brain is melting), tumblr, TV and a bit of conversation

#chat with kat

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vanillablankcanvas · 2 months ago

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Oneshot -Broppy Wedding Planning

Pop Village was buzzing with celebration!

The former town grump, Branch had finally…

FINALLYYYYY!!!!!!-

Proposed to Queen Poppy!

And she said ‘Yes’!!!

The town had never been this excited!

This would be the first Royal Wedding since they escaped Bergen Town!

AND

The first Troll wedding attended by Bergens!

AND

It would be the first Royal Wedding to be attended by the other Trolls Tribes in centuries!

This was going to be the event of a lifetime!

Satin and Chenille had produced a scrapbook they had made for Poppy as an engagement gift.

It was full of wedding ideas they had collected over the years that they thought Poppy could one day use.

Flower arrangements, colours, cakes, songs, dance numbers…

The scrapbook was huge!

Branch found Poppy in her pod later on.

Poppy was at a table lazily flipping through the pages of the scrapbook.

Branch sat across from her, surprised that she looked so deflated.

Without saying anything, Poppy pushed the scrapbook over for Branch to see.

Branch looked over a few pages.

“Wait? You've already planned everything?”

“No. Satin and Chenille made it.”

“And you're upset? Are their ideas that bad?

“No it's not that…” she looked away.

Branch put the book aside and took her hands into his.

“What is it you usually say to me? If you're having feelings, you can talk about them with me.”

Poppy sighed.

“It’s just…a lot”

Branch nodded encouragingly.

“Go on.”

“Look at it, Branch. Everyone is so excited for our wedding! Everyone is expecting a huge thing and we haven't even begun to plan anything yet!”

“You've never had trouble planning things like this before.”

“This is different. It's not just about me this time.”

Branch thought her words over.

“You're worried about me.”

Poppy looked over to him with almost apologetic eyes.

Branch smiled and leaned in close to whisper.

“Poppy, I don't know if you know this about me but…”

Poppy leaned her ear in.

“-Sometimes I over prepare for things.”

Poppy blinked at him then burst into silly giggles.

Branch smiled proudly that he was able to get her to laugh like this.

“Poppy when I proposed, I knew exactly who I was proposing to. I know what I'm getting myself into. So, individually handcrafted invitations? Coordinated dance numbers? Napkins matching the flowers? Each guest's face painted onto the cake?-”

“You're just giving me ideas now.”

“I’m saying that I want all of that with you.”

“...Really?”

“I get to marry my best friend. We've been through a lot together and I think we should have the celebration we deserve.”

“It’s your wedding too. I don't want you to get overwhelmed just to make me happy. You don't think it's going to be too over the top?”

“I know it's going to be over the top! I'm fully prepared for that and happy to help in any way I can to go over the top with this. Let's really go ‘Poppy’ on this thing.” he smirked.

Poppy snort laughed at his word choice.

“You'll let me know it's too much?”

“Don't I always?”

Poppy narrowed her eyes skeptically. A cheeky grin spread across her face

“How ‘Poppy’ are we talking?”

“I want you to go ‘Full Poppy’.”

“You do know what you're letting into the world, right?”

Branch kissed her hand then looked deep into her eyes.

“Let’s throw the biggest, loudest, craziest party ever.”

Poppy poked his chest.

“Keep saying things like that and we aren't gonna last until the honeymoon mister.” she growled.

Poppy smooched his cheek gratefully before she grabbed the scrapbook and took off to find Satin and Chenille.

It wasn't until she was out of sight that his eyes widened with the realization of what she was implying.

And Branch's lovestruck face flushed red.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls movie #trolls band together #character design #trolls branch #broppy trolls #trolls broppy #broppy #queen poppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #Broppy wedding #Trolls oneshot #trolls headcanons #trolls fandom

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revalition · 5 months ago

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OCT 16 - PAIN THRESHOLD Shrug off the pain. They’ll have to hurt you more.

I love this guy a lot! even if he has some really questionable advice. I ended up dumping a lot of points into him in my first playthrough!

really simple drawings today, I've had a pretty bad headache all day. which you'd think would allow me to channel the pain threshold vibe better! but it really didn't. sadly the amount of love I hold for a skill doesn't necessarily correlate with how much effort I can put into drawing them (with a few exceptions lol). the one on the right was an old sketch I coloured... it was a relief I already had a halfway decent design for him haha

lots of quotes under the cut as usual!

pain threshold!!

fun fact - he does not refer to you as harry once. however he does call you: - pal - baby - son - buddy - man and none of these more than once. weirdo

PT also has the most anti-passives (passive failures) out of the skills, by a large margin. He has 31, second place has 19. He also has 3rd least passive checks.

quotes:

these two idiots!! causing mental and physical damage with their screaming... H/E coordination trying to reel it back in

<3 (this heals endurance!)

actual idiot skill

dudeee

he's so funny. he's fucking got this.

dying here

nooo

sigh

super normal.

he's a sad, sad guy

if you haven't been told yet that he has depression PT can figure it out for you!!! <3

sad PT in the final dream :(

this one too

he knows! he recognizes *fake pain*

dialogue after failing to save ruby... urgh

I really like this. 'A race to beat your own heart's pulse to some dark finish line.'

as always this is amazing.

:((( this is re: pawnshop roy

hehe

this one is always delightful. he has a sense of humour sometimes!

this whole scene was a mess, but this line in particular... I don't know, it just stuck with me. It's very vivid.

honestly, true

lol

sometimes these skills say some unhinged stuff, sheesh

poor guy, he's so sad

:(((

this one is brutal.

this guy has *issues*

ending it on this very important one!!! please look! during the last dream pain threshold tells you to pick the dialogue option that will cause her to leave and the dream to end... and volition tells you to keep dragging it on. hghh guys...

pain threshold is quite something. there are lots of instances of him telling you something painful feels good, or encourages you to do something that will hurt (both physically and emotionally). he also leads the finger on the eject button thought dialogue. My first playthrough I had FYS of 4 and I ended up dumping a ton of points in to PT cause I was fascinated by him. But I also had mega high volition cause I adored him too. they definitely did not have the same goals...

the first time I remember hearing from my personal PT, we were bowling and my wrist was really starting to hurt. and he was like, you should keep playing. thanks bro :/

anyway that's all. for tomorrow, physical instrument's design isnt super exciting to me, but I do have a bunch of good quotes picked. I can make a coach calling people a binoclard compilation...

#skilltober #de pain threshold #de skills #disco elysium #rev art

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yourdearestenemyluke · 11 months ago

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Here is my theory on how lucerys & aemond's costumes were absolutely supposed to be coordinating in episode 10, (i say absolutely but then again its a theory) there's a very obvious pattern in costuming of the kids in this episode & it comes to a harmony when aemond & luke meet in the end (which later breaks obviously)

Minutes before the Storm's end scene we see jacaerys and lucerys in the halves of the targeryen colours, luke being the red half of their colours is established here and jace as the black half

Sometime before, that we also see baela standing in jace's red half of the colours and rhaena standing in the back half with luke's and complementing the colours. The positioning and the fact baela is the only one with new costume, only to end beside jacaerys to make up his red half and rhaena luke's black half.

Velaryon boys who are targaryen through and through are in both the colours through out the episode, before they are assigned their own halves of the targeryen colours when they leave as envoys.

So far it's clear there's a costume coordination between characters which ends up in them completing the colours of targaryen sigil.

The fact ewan says aemond wears targeryen black to make himself seem and feel more like a targeryen is something that stuck out to me

he probably got his detail from condall or costume designer, but targ colours aren't just black, it's red and black, aemond is missing the red

With episode ten when aemond and lucerys meet they are decked in colours that make up the colours of the targ sigil but put on different sides, physically opposite side as well as in the conflict. And additionlly aemond loss of reason due to his desire for vengeance makes him blind to the fact luke is a targaryen too

Aemond is blind to his other half basically is what I'm saying. And I don't think they necesarily meant it romantically, I'm not delusional enough to push ship beliefs on show runners but I definitely it visually portrays house of the dragon dividing itself because of outsiders

Aemond and lucerys are one of the many pairings in the show the most broken relationships due to some irreversible emotional (& physical) damage caused to one another, the eye and bastard aligations. Neither are willing to take the first step but I don't think they're unwilling either..will complete that thought when I get to the dinner part but at the end we know ameond never meant any serious damage to luke, he didn't hate him enough to kill him or even want him dead...

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cyberrose2001 · 2 years ago

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Hello! I would like to request a TFP Ratchet's or Knockout's reaction on their female human reader that wanted to try and drink energon and now she has her insides glowing like very strong blue color and feels very guilty about it. Like her heart glows blue her intestines, lungs etc.😭❤️

Just a dumb lil idea. If you don't like it you don't have to write anything. Feel free <3

TFP Ratchet + TFP Knockout's reaction to their human s/o wanting to try energon

hi!!! thanks for requesting! ❤️ this was fun to write heheh, word of advice to you friend, don't drink energon!!! it does not taste as good as it looks!!! hope this is satisfactory!

Warnings: Emetophobia, small mention of needles

Word count: 1772

TFP Ratchet

You were perched on Ratchet’s shoulder, watching your significant other as he works on the main computer. He seems so concentrated that you were sure he forgot you were there with him, but you were reassured when every now and then he would glance his optics to you, making sure you weren’t going to slide off him. Ratchet sighs as he picks up the jar of energon sitting off to the side, holding it up to his dermas and takes a swig. For some reason you were intrigued by the glowing blue liquid, wondering what it might taste like, or if it tasted like anything.

“Ratchet, what does energon taste like?” You ask him, watching as he wipes the remaining drops of energon on his dermas off with his arm. He perks up, a questioning look on his faceplates.

“It is most certainly something that you humans cannot digest.” Ratchet says as he places the jar back to where it was on the console, he looks back to you, “But if you insist, it tastes rather sweet. Like what you would call ‘honey’, but not as thick. It was engineered that way to make it more palatable.”

You nod, looking back to the jar. You jump out of your skin when you hear the commlink on the computer going off, but Ratchet reaches a servo to your thighs, stabilising you.

“Ratchet, we require immediate medical attention. Bring your med kit.”

“I’m on my way.” Ratchet answers. He gently picks you up from his shoulder, giving you a quick kiss to your lips as he always does when he is called to duty, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon enough.”

“Alright…” You sigh as he places you down on the catwalk, watching as he opens a ground bridge to Optimus’s coordinates. You’re now left on your own in the base. You look back to the seemingly innocent jar of energon still sitting on the console.

“One little taste can’t hurt, right?”

You were totally wrong, so very wrong. In fact, you were sure that Ratchet would kill you when he sees that your whole entire body is glowing a bright blue colour. You had no idea what the effects of energon were on human body, but now you know, and you regret tipping over the jar and scooping the liquid into your mouth. Also, Ratchet is a total liar, it did not taste like honey.

You panic as you hear the sound of pedes coming through the still open ground bridge. You watch as Ratchet and the rest of team prime enter the base. Ratchets optics are blown wide as he sees your body now glowing, he runs over to you and gently scoops you up in his servo.

“(Y/n)!” Ratchets scans his optics over you, “What’s happened to you?”

You say nothing, shoulders hunched over with arms wrapped around your stomach. Ratchet is extremely concerned, but he shifts his eyes over to the console, energon spilled everywhere. Ratchet gasps as he put two and two together and narrows his optics on you.

“What part of ‘humans cannot digest’ did you not understand, (Y/n)?!” Ratchet is the one panicking now. He rushes you over to the med-bay, sitting you on one of the gurneys he managed to get for human casualties. He pulls out his scanner and runs a diagnostic over your entire body, you groan as he does so, feeling extremely nauseous now. He orders you to stick out your tongue, gasping as he sees it also glowing a bright blue.

“By the all spark,” Ratchet breathes. The others had congregated around the med-bay, also concerned with your current predicament, “Your whole entire body is glowing blue with energon, even your own heart.”

You sit up suddenly, leaning over the gurney and throwing up the glowing contents of your stomach on the concrete floor. The other members of team prime cringed as you did so, but Ratchet kneeled next to you, rubbing your back softly.

“Ratchet…” You groan, spitting out the remaining drops of energon still sitting in your mouth, “I’m sorry… I was just curious… I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

“(Y/n), I told you.” Ratchet rubs his optics with his free servo, “Energon is toxic when exposed to humans in large quantities, you’re lucky to be alive right now. Fortunately, it seems that you have just… expelled most if not all the energon remaining in your stomach.”

You look up at him with glowing iris’s, “Does that mean I’ll be ok?”

Ratchet hums as he nods his helm, still heavily concerned for his human conjunx, “Hopefully, but you are not leaving this med bay nor leaving my sight until the rest of the energon wears off.”

You give him a half laugh, body still shaking from being nauseous, “Hah, not the best date night I’ve had in mind.”

Ratchet rolls his optics, scoffing, but then gives you a playful smile and leans down to kiss your head, “There will be no more ‘date nights’ for you if you ever try to drink energon again.”

TFP Knockout

Life can get pretty exciting being the so called ‘human pet’ of Knockout, the nickname being given to you by the other Decepticons. You didn’t mind though as Knockout was prepared to turn them into his next experiment if they ever decide to put their servos on you, just another benefit of being his conjunx.

One downside, however, is your exposure to tons and tons of substances on the Decepticon war ship that are toxic to your squishy body. Knockout tries his best to keep them out of your reach so you don’t accidentally come into contact with them, but there’s one that he can’t hide that is in constant use on the Nemesis.

Energon, as they call it. To you it looks like it could be candy, or a blue raspberry cocktail. But Knockout strongly advised you not to touch it for good reasons, it will probably kill you.

But here you are, in Knockout’s medical unit, purposely going against his orders. You managed to drag one of the large energon cubes over onto his large desk, attempting to pry it open. With much difficulty, the lid popped giving you access to a motherload of energon at your fingertips. You were lucky that Knockout was out on battlefield duty, or he would absolutely flip is shit.

Hesitantly, you cup some of the energon into your hands and bring it up to your lips. It feels like little shocks of electricity on your skin and tongue as it glides down your throat. You shiver as you swallow, definitely not a cocktail. The rest of the energon falls from your hands onto the desk as you feel yourself become queasy, your body’s attempt to advise you on what you just did was a terrible idea. You dropped to the floor as you become unconscious.

“Tsk, those Autobots.” Knockout clicks his glossa as he returns to the Nemesis, scratches on his red frame leaking with energon, “That was the last time they will get the opportunity to ruin my paint job.”

He rushes through the long corridors of the ship, eager to return to his beloved human and to get some energon into him. He had never thought that he would ever be romantically invested in a human, but after he captured you for interfering with Decepticon affairs, you had grown on him. It was a surprise to him when one day you confessed to him, and even more of a surprise when he accepted you as his human conjunx.

He arrives to his medical unit, optics glancing around for any spare energon cubes. He successfully finds one, but its open. He quirks his optical ridges, “That’s weird, I never left that there.”

Knockout walks up to the cube and picks it up, he shrugs his frame and downs the whole thing. But does a spit-take when he sees you unconscious on the table, skin glowing a bright blue. His red optics wide as drops the empty cube from his servos, shattering on the floor.

“(Y/n)?!” Knockout exclaims, scooping you up in his servos, “Sweetspark?”

He sighs in relief when he hears a groan escape from you, knowing that you’re not dead. You squint your eyes and place a hand on your throbbing head, but you gasp as you noticed your entire arm is glowing blue, “Knockout?”

“You drank energon, didn’t you?” Knockout narrows his optics on your body, scanning you with his optics looking for any signs of internal damage. He notices that your intestines are glowing bright blue, confirming his suspicions, “I told you specifically not to touch it! That stuff is highly poisonous for you little squishy’s!”

You groan, flopping onto your back in his servo, “I’m sorry, OK? I couldn’t help myself.”

“For Primus sake, it’s a wonder how you humans manage to survive at all.” Knockout rolls his optics, he places you back onto the table, “You’re lucky that I love you enough to have already made a cure for this.”

Knockout pulls out a syringe from one of his storage compartments under the desk, it’s filled with a black liquid. Your glowing eyes shoot open as you realise that he might jab you.

“Calm down, babe.” He shakes his helm, softly chuckling at your reaction, “There’s nothing sharp attached to it, it’s a mixture of ingredients designed to absorb and neutralise any toxic substances in your stomach. Learned it from you humans, activated charcoal.”

“You want me to drink that?” You questioned him, weakly lifting your head from the table. Knockout rolls his optics again for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

“You drank the energon,” Knockout scoops you up, pressing the tube of liquid to your lips, “What makes you think you can’t drink this?”

You try not to gag as he forces the liquid down your throat, but you drink all of it, trusting him. You shutter at the taste, somehow it was even worse than the energon, “There, happy? I drank your stupid charcoal.”

Knockout nods his helm in satisfaction, “Good, let this be a reminder to never drink energon again, hm?”

You nod your head in agreement, giving him a weak thumbs up, “Don’t have to worry about that ever again, Doc.”

Knockout huffs, then gives you a gentle kiss on your head, “Although, it is rather amusing that the energon makes your whole body turn blue.”

“I may have to conduct some experimenting on you later.” He continues, giving you a wink.

“Don’t even think about it!”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp knockout x reader #tfp x reader #fluff

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