#i miss being functional and doing stuff or even wanting to do stuff

[drchucktingle]

As an autistic person, did you struggle to make and keep friends? And have you found friends through the writing world? I ask because my mom always said i needed to find my people. I did finally find them (they are neurodiverse trans nerds, haha), but not until i was like 30. And i wonder if its true of other autistic people too. So i guess my question is: did you find your people, and when?

thank you this is good question. i have always had a LOT of CLOSE BUDS even from a very young age. i would actually say that i am unusually socially adept in my way and that it is partially BECAUSE of my autistic trot. LETS TALK ON THAT FOR A MOMENT

'BUT CHUCK YOU SAID YOU ARE ON THE SPECTRUM AND AUTISTIC BUCKAROOS CANNOT BE SOCIALLY ADEPT' some say. and sure it is UNUSUAL overall, technically speaking, but there is also an important reason we talk about this as a spectrum of buckaroos and not a monolith

when buckaroos ask me what it is like to be autistic i try to explain like this: there are certain cues and markers from the outside that serve as a sort of identification checklist but because of masking they are not always correct. instead i see it as question of WHAT IS IT LIKE INSIDE YOUR BRAIN?

internally my brain is different. its taking in way more information all the time, including the stuff that neurotypical buds block out, and that can become overwhelming. it is hard to navigate because i do not have that automatic neurotypical 'here is what is important here is what is not' function

so yes i can be easily distracted and zone out as i watch the patterns and fractals spin off. and yes i can miss certain things in social situations. in many autistic buckaroos this makes large groups overwhelming and the OUTPUT of behavior matches what we typically know as signs of autism

FOR ME however, same thing is going on inside, but i have managed to HARNESS that information. even from very young age i see that everyone is DOING THE HUMAN ACT but instead of rejecting that and shutting off i think 'well okay i am just going to do THIS because thats what they actually want'

in other words, most neurotypical buds say one thing that has a kind of spiraling social-cue-related OTHER MEETING (they do this ALL the time) and instead of rejecting that i have trained myself to be REALLY REALLY good at knowing the hidden meaning. it is EMPATHY but on a sort of LOGIC BASED level

and because i have always been pretty good at that, people like to trot around me and say 'wow this is a good friend they understand me'. now for ME that can be a little exhausting and there are things i need to do and stims and all that to release the effort, but overall it is worth it to me

OTHER THING is that i was a successful CREATOR AND ARTIST BUCKAROO from an early age which is socially seen as 'cool' especially when you are trotting around in your youth. it is not particularly FAIR but it is true that some level of fame makes buds treat you well even if you are 'weird'.

of course it can be a sort of FAKE 'treating you well' but as an autistic buckaroo it is still more of a chance than you might otherwise get. this timeline has sort of carved out a very special little sliver of social grace for the token odd artistic weirdo to have a seat at each cool kids table

ANYWAY that is the trot of my life. it is a unique trot that i dont get to talk on much but since you asked THERE YOU GO. every chance i get to say 'I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC' and talk on HOW MUCH IT HAS IMPROVED MY LIFE i try to take a moment and do that. when i was young i had few autistic heroes

and OF COURSE it can be difficult and overwhelming and we need to have space for those stories and voices, but i want young buckaroos who get this diagnosis to know there are ALL KINDS of stories and trots on the autism spectrum. MINE IS PRETTY DANG COOL and maybe yours will be too. LOVE IS REAL

[23xfgg]

YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER

(Ch. 1)

Ch. 2 <-

(Ch. 3)

(Ch. 3.o5)

An // this is part 2 of drug user / sober! Reader and I would like to thank you guys for actually liking the last one even though it wasn’t great. I do want to clarify that there won’t be any speech in this as I’m terrified of writing dialogue sorry <3

Again I’m sorry if this sounds messy and disjointed

I will also try making a tag list (max 10 or 20) that would be included at the end of the chapters.

TW// death, drugs, depression, drinking

It has been a couple of months since you stumbled across the drug party and met Adam. Your friendship with him started as aquenences who know nobody else but each other at the function to becoming quite close. You obviously had no way to contact him other than when you see each other at the “drug pit”.

Sometimes there would just be people popping pills, drinking, smoking, snorting, etc with only a few words being shared here or there. Other days it’s like a full blown party. The place is cramped, people are rubbing their bodies on others, coke lines on a random girls chest, mixing all kind of substances together and of course music blasting so loud people outside can hear it. This place feels like a second home to you. The first being your life with your mother and never including the manor.

Thinking about that place just gives you more reason to down another shot and buy a lollipop from a suspicious man in the corner.

Your addiction was a slow start, from turning up at the alley once a week to only smoke weed and gradually increasing to popping pills, drinking along with smoking. And your presence there increased from once a week to now almost every other day. Your frequency to turning to those drugs only ever increased when Damian just has to remind you that your existence will never amount to anything and you might as well save the whole family a favour and just disappear.

Honestly, even when you tried to ignore it his words did have an effect on your mental health, making you feel more depressed. And the depression will lead to grief as you just wish your life was normal before your mom died. You missed how she will hold you when you felt sad. She knew words had little effect so she just let her presence comfort you. Feeling safe in her arms surrounded by her floral perfumes gave you a sense of security. A security now lost because she is gone. She’s not there to hold you and comfort you. So now you resort to crying out on your pillows and popping a few pills whenever you smell the slightest trace of her clean floral perfume.

To keep your “family” off your back about your actions (which wasn’t that hard) you had a simple routine after school to keep any suspicion off you. After school you spent some time in your room, changing into a hoodie and ripped jeans, telling Alfred you will be with a friend and not to say any dinner for you and then you’re off.

Off to have whatever fun you want without any of the judging eyes you would get from the bat family. Whatever fun you want without having to avoid eye contact with your “father” Bruce and his disapproving glare. All the fun you want without a tiny body big attitude gremlin (who is sadly you half brother) telling you how much of a disappointment and a failure you are to the Wayne name.

It was so easy to hide you habits from them when they themselves don’t notice you. You take little care in making sure the spotlight of their attention was not on you. Not like it was hard to begin with. They were always buys with some shit regarding themselves.

You knew all the best hiding spots around Gotham. Including the manor. So you hid your stash based on importance/ how offer you would reach for it. Your pills and week you keep in a shoebox place under creaky floor boards in your room. The slightly harder stuff you have them hidden behind loose bricks, abandoned buildings and in alleyways. And some extra cash in all those spots. Heck, you even have thoes shoes that have compartments in the hell to hide your stuff in when the manor gets a little to risky to leave stuff alone.

You have taken (not) every necessary steps to ensure that the rest of them don’t find your little part time hobby, even when you know they won’t pay enough attention to notice (or will they…). But still as long as it stays with you in the shadows it will be easier as the days go by.

You have thought about quitting. But that was just a brief thought. The high and comfort was just too much for you to leave. It helped you cope. It helped keeping you out of your own dark thoughts. You never had to think of anything regarding your life when you’re high.

All you need was just pills and a joint and you are almost as happy when your mom was alive.

Almost…

An // ahh this chapter is shiiiitt. I srs don’t know what to do here 😭😭😭

I have plans for more chapters that may or may not come just be patient and ignore the mess that is my writing.

Tag list (if I have forgotten you I’m sorry pls just comment and I will add you in the next one) : @welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi

Bye bye now 🤘

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

5K

Counting Stars

...

He almost lost you. 

And yet he had to act like he didn't care.

It was to everyone's surprise when he announced that you will no longer be living at the base. It was simple. Due to inner conflicts, you won't be a part of Team Prime any longer. 

No one believed it until you came to pick up your things and said your last goodbyes. 

Optimus was nowhere to be found. 

And no one dared to ask him why.

Only Optimus knows the reason. 

He was well aware of his limits. Knowing that the moment he sees you, he would break down. Throw away his pride and ask you to stay forever with him. That he was a complete idiot to believe he could live a single day without you.

What an idiot he indeed is. 

It's been a week and he can't do it. Primus, give him strength. He sees you everywhere. He smells you in the flowers, feels your touch in the wind, hears your voice in nature and sees you in the stars. How much he misses to taste your lips once more.

"One more day and I think you will go offline, old friend."

Out of embarrassment, Optimus tries to close the windows in the data-pad screen, he was too focused on looking at pictures of you to notice Ratchet walking close to him. 

“What, um-”  He keeps closing tabs, each one having a different picture of you. From different angles and expressions. Blurry and not. “What are you referring to, old friend?”

Ratchet doesn't know how to react to this. He has always been aware of Optimus' massive love for you. Of course he knew. Even more now that the bearer of the Matrix can’t seem to function properly without your presence. 

Optimus keeps closing taps and Ratchet gets a glimpse of Orion Pax. Trying his best to hide the fact that he messed up. 

From innocent pictures, more intimate ones appeared.

“Would you please close your optics?” There is some panic and concern in his voice. But also an authoritative tone to it.  “I do not wish for you to see her the way I used to.”

Ratchet just turns around, giving Optimus enough privacy to conclude his activity. 

“I had just wanted to check up on your well-being due to recent events. But I am afraid that you are in a worse state than I thought possible.”

He hears more clicking and typing before hearing a heavy ex-vent coming from the Autobot leader.

“You can turn around now.”

“Optimus, you can’t continue like this,” the robot medic takes a look at the screen again. It’s empty but the blue blush on Optimus’ face is still evident.  “It’s only been a week. But have you truthly imagined what your life will be after living an eternity without (y/n)?”

Of course he doesn’t think about it. He might be an idiot but not entirely stupid. If he spirals and thinks too much about it he’ll probably lose all sense of responsibility and sanity. He can’t think about no longer being able to see the stars in your eyes. Of not longer hearing the sweetness of your voice or caressing the softness of your skin–

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Optimus quickly stops thinking.  “My fate is sealed and so is hers. Our paths shall never meet again.”

Knowing Optimus for such a long time, Ratchet knows when he is lying. Even he should be aware of how full of scrap that lie is. Still, he wishes to push it further and see for how long Optimus will keep it up.

“If you truthly think that way then delete all of those frames and we shall never speak of her again.”

Their optics met for a few seconds and the gentle look in Optimus’ optics let Ratchet know everything he needed. However, he wanted his friend to be the one to realize it. Some things have to be lived and pain is the best teacher. 

“I … I-”

Looking back at the screen, there are no pictures of you. The thought of never seeing you again crosses his mind. He doesn’t have much to remember you by. You had taken all of your things. No longer can he phantom words to deny the truth. 

“Why are you putting yourself through all of this pain, old friend? When you and I are aware that you cannot pass a second without thinking of her?”

It was late night at the hangar and all other Autobots had gone to recharge. It was only the two of them and no one dared to ask Optimus about past occurrences that included you. 

“I told her … I wish I had never met her.”

Ratchet slowly opens his intake the moment the words slips Optimus’ glossa. 

“Even if my spark wishes nothing more but to see her again … I am afraid I have severed the relationship beyond repay.”

There is a pause in which Ratchet wanted to comfort his friend, to say some words of encouragement but he doesn’t know if it will be good enough.

“If only you had seen her face, Ratchet  … You would know. I have no right to ask for forgiveness.” 

You are the strongest person he knows. He has yet to see you shed a tear, no amount of injuries have made you do so. But that night, between discussions and arguments, he saw your eyes become crystal. The only thing he could do was to look away. He knew he would break as well if he ever became the reason for your suffering. 

.

.

.

Seven months passed. 

Not a single word from you. 

Sometimes, however, Optimus would hear Fowler speak about you. A simple ‘She’s doing fine’ and ‘She has made new friends.’

But that was enough to make him wonder about you. Your new life, friends, if you had found anyone who was of your interest.

“We need the Autobot assistance in transporting a highly classified product across the state.”

He finds himself enjoying putting his life in danger. To take on difficult missions so his mind can be occupied. For those moments he is free from the thoughts of you. Any other second he is busy indulging in his torment from your parting. 

Apparently, MECH was extremely interested in this product and had plans to steal it from the CIA. It was the Autobots’ job to prevent that from happening. 

The bots surrounded a black bulletproof truck. They weren’t allowed to look at what was inside which did not please them. If they were to protect something, they wanted to know what it was. However, Optimus gave it a one time pass. After all, Fowler has proved himself to be a trusted ally. 

The first couple of miles went by easily. With no interruptions. 

It wasn’t until it started to go dark that trouble appeared. 

MECH had interjected the mission. Using every single gun, missile and bombs at their dispossession. Whatever that black truck was carrying, they wanted it no matter what. 

“At this rate we are going to lose the target!”

Arcee screamed through her comm-link as she tried her best to take down as many helicopters as possible without hurting any human in the process. Pretty much against her will but orders were orders. 

“These guys are really fighting it out!” Bulkhead was against a few tanks, he had stayed behind to keep them busy while the truck made an attempt to go out of sight. “Are we even sure this thing we are protecting is worth our lives?!”

Optimus was the one closest to the truck, keeping direct contact in case of a disaster. 

“Optimus! We won’t be able to keep them away for long!”

Bumblebee chirped in morse code and the Autobot leader knew he had to do something. 

He drives faster, facing the two officers that were driving the truck. Side to side, they look at the driverless vehicle. 

“Open the trunk and I’ll take the cargo. We won’t be able to hold them for long. I’ll take the cargo somewhere safe while you serve as a distraction. If we don’t do this, you’ll lose it all.”

The military officers look at each other for a small second. Giving a knowing look, they knew what they had to do. They open up the trunk and Optimus slows his driving, taking a look, finally, at what’s inside. 

The cargo is you. 

He quickly transforms back to his robot mode. Running towards you. He extended a sevo, he wanted you to jump. 

You were holding onto the walls of the truck as if your life depended on it. And it did. This was definitely not the encounter you were expecting after not seeing him for seven months. But now it wasn’t the moment to think about that. What happened between the two of you was over. But you still trusted Optimus Prime, the leader he has always been. 

“Quickly!”

You run towards him and jump as the trunk is in fast motion. Your feet land on his servo and in less than a second, he transforms back to his vehicle mode. Now you sat safely in the passenger seat. Optimus moves out of the road and drives off into the forest. Getting lost into the massiveness of nature and tall pine trees. 

No longer being able to hear chaos, Optimus assumed it was safe to talk. 

“Would you care to explain your status and the reasoning to why you are being transported by the American military?”

You weren’t fond of his voice, much less how this conversation started.

“Not even a ‘how are you’ first? You really haven’t changed at all, Prime.”

You say as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Looking outside the window, you wished you were being chased again by MECH. 

“Do not dare to call me by titles.”

There were times you called him by his last name. When you were angry and when the two of you were yet to form a relationship. He doesn’t like to reminisce about those times. 

“Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“But–”

“I said … I’ll walk.”

Optimus stops and opens the door for you. You hop out of his vehicle mode and start walking without anywhere in mind. 

You put your hands in your oversize hoodie. The last thing you wanted was for him to take a deep look at you. Much less if he starts analyzing your body with stats. 

“I don’t think you know where you are supposed to be located,” he says as he transforms back to his regular robot mode. 

“I’ll figure it out.”

Optimus begins to panic as you start to walk away. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to be. He had dreamt of the next time he saw you. Maybe on a field of flowers and running towards each other. Ending it with an embrace and a passionate kiss. 

“Would you listen to reason for once?”

He tries again to engage but he only makes himself sound rude without having those intentions. 

“No.”

Would please look at him? It’s been seven months since he last saw you. He’s only seen your eyes through the pictures of his data-pad but they didn’t compare to seeing them in person–

“Why are you following me? I thought you didn’t care.”

You finally turn to look at him. 

He can’t control his processor at your sight. Your hair was a nice mess, you were wearing clothes too big for you, maybe to hide the few pounds you gained during this time. Your cheeks were pinker and plumber. Dark circles under your eyes but skin glowing and those beautiful eyes that could put any star in the universe to shame.

Optimus stumbles on his pedes and almost falls on his knees, your beauty too distracting for any living being to be witness of. 

“I .. I –”

He can’t believe you are talking to him. This was too soon and no words could leave his voice box as if had forgotten how to speak entirely. 

He wanted to say it all. How much he missed you, how desperately he needed you. How there hasn’t been a single day he didn’t think about you. How everything reminded him of you. And how painful has it been every second you are not with him.

But before he could rant about his undying love for you, he sees a painful expression on your face. Followed by you, placing your arms around your belly and bending as if the cause of your physical pain was located in your stomach.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just,” you take a moment to breathe as you slowly make your way towards a tree. “Just leave me alone.”

With sad and curious optics, he sees you put a hand on your stomach. Whispering comforting words. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘It’s ok’ you kept talking to yourself to make you believe those words. 

“We’ll be safe.”

“I am going to run a quick analysis–”

“No,” you interrupt him again. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Optimus dislikes going against your wishes. But the way you are breathing heavily, your sweating and trembling doesn’t look like a good sign. He can manage to live without you if it guarantees that you can live a long happy life. But not the same can be said if your life is cut short for whatever reason. 

“My apologies but my mission is to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I tend to do.”

“I am pregnant,” you had no other choice. “Thankfully, you are not the father.”

That was a lie but at least the shock will prevent and confuse him enough. If Optimus were to do an analysis on your body, he would find anomalies only a Cybertronian would know. 

Finally getting the strength you need, you stand up and walk past Optimus whose face you did not dare to look. Your swollen belly still hurts but you didn’t want to worry him. The reason why you are not with him in the first place is because he thought of you as a liability. You no longer want to be seen as such. 

“Who’s the father of the child?”

The question infuriated you. Of all the things he could have asked, he asks such a selfish question. He shouldn’t care and certainly you are tired of Optimus pretending he does. 

“You know, on Earth, is customary to say ‘congratulations,” you turn to look at him. 

A fatal mistake. 

His optics reflected a grief unknown to you. The type you do not know nor wish to ever experience. Then there is a pain you recognize, that of a broken heart. You knew that feeling very well. He had been the one responsible for it after all. A part of you is happy to know that he is experiencing karma, that he is hopefully experiencing a fraction of the pain he made you go through.

But that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to inflect any type of suffering in him. Not now. Not ever.

“I am sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else you could say. You look down, disappointed at your own feelings.

“No. My apologies,” Optimus noticed your sudden change and he too feels unworthy to be of your presence. Having his ill feelings and jealousy overtake his processor instead of worrying about your well being. “I did not think it was possible for you to find a suitable partner with whom … to mate with … and so soon.”

“Well, humans do not live for long and we only have a few years until we are no longer able to ‘mate’”

You didn’t like using the word ‘mate’ . It made humans sound like animals but you used it so Optimus could be spoken to in terms he could understand. 

“But do you have … feelings for this individual?”

“Yes,” you lied again, trying to see what you can get away with.  “He is just and kind. Tall and handsome.” 

Optimus puts a servo on his hip and looks to the other side. Not looking at anything in particular rather he didn’t want to show his evident discomfort. 

“Yet it seems he is unable to do the most important duty … to protect you.”

“He is quite adequate, actually,” you tease him again. The Autobot leader might be a smart war tactician but is terrible at understanding hints.  “He is the strongest and fierce when needed.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that I have as well found someone else to keep my time occupied,” he stutters, unable to lie. “She’s strong, a good talker and a listener. Kind and has the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe.”

Now he was being too specific for your liking. What if he was telling the truth and he had indeed found someone else? You didn't know how not. After all, Optimus Prime was the most extraordinary being on Earth and probably in the entire universe. 

All of your doubts and insecurities began to fill your heart. You were just a human, easily replaceable. But Optimus? There’s only one of him. You were insignificant compared to him. It has always been this way. 

“Then I hope she is better than I ever was.”

You turn to keep walking into the woods with no destination whatsoever but you didn’t care. 

 “It seems we made the right choice to part ways.”

Optimus wouldn’t have it. He can’t phantom it and it’s probably selfish thinking. But he can’t understand how easily you can say that while there hasn’t been a single day he is not tormented by your absence. When every second of his life has been torture without you. 

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice is indignant. Every circuit in his processor, begged him to hold you. To tell you how much he craves you and how unfair has life been. Taking you away only when you have become the most beautiful of beings.  “After everything?”

“You have someone and I have someone,” you don’t turn around, putting a hand again on your stomach. Giving it a small rub and looking down at it.  “And I am with a child as you can see and very happy.”

“A child that should have been born from our bond. I should have been the father of that sparkling, I-”  

“You wished we had never met,” you whisper quietly but you know he can hear you. He always listened. “So please, stop talking like you care.”

“(Y/N)?” 

He looks at you and notices your distraught. Your breathing has become slower.

“Are you alright?”

You fall but before your body could touch the ground, Optimus catches you on his servo. He studies you for a second. You have pink cheeks and breathing seems difficult. He doesn’t hesitate to use his comm-link.

“Ratchet, I request an immediate groundbridge.” 

.

.

.

“Vitals are stable but I’ll stay alert tonight to watch over her.”

Ratchet was glad to have you back at the base although he wished it was in different circumstances. After a couple of hours, everyone went back to their private quarters. The only ones left were the medic and the leader of the autobots. 

They watched over you as you slept soundly in the medical berth. Your vital signs displayed on the data-screen. Although everything seems fine, the two of them were known to overthink and worry.

“I waited for everyone to leave to tell you something of an extremely important matter.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“While doing some analyses in (Y/N)’s body, I distinguished an anomaly,” Ratchet clicks on keys and rapidly two sound frames appear. There are many lines, short and big, all close together. Together they create a different pattern from each other. 

 “(Y/N) appears to have two different heart beats. But, of course, that goes against human biology. So I did further testing.”

“I made a discovery. The second beat has a different frequency of that of a human heart,” the medic played the sound, Optimus recognized this as your heartbeat.  “But this other one has the same frequency and energy as a spark.”

“I do not understand.”

Trying to be tactful was hard for Ratchet as it is. He didn’t want to downplay the situation either. It was a serious matter but he has to admit that not even himself can’t contain his exhilaration. 

“Cybertron hasn’t had a single sparkling in centuries so coming to this conclusion took some time” 

The medic ex-vents, somehow it helped with his tension. He has been alive for quite some time and yet he can’t remember the last time he helped bring a new life to Cybertron. It was all the culmination of his studies and practices. Maybe finally he will have a chance to create life instead of just curing it. 

“After all, I had to look through some old archives and Human-Cybertronian hybrids is a first. But seeing that humans have the ability to create life and combining that with Cybertronian transmission genes … I believe I have a definite conclusion.” 

Ratchet presses a key, making the data-screen play a distinct sound. A sound similar to static but a distinct rhythm could be heard. Gentle and soft. Pure. 

“(Y/N) is carrying a sparkling.” 

“By the AllSpark,” Optimus blinks multiple times as he always does when he is excited or perplexed about something. He looks at you. Your small fragile body. “How?”

“How are humans able to create life with a soul, conscious mind and a body?” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it, because even he can't fully understand how. “Primus may have heard our prayers and has blessed us with an opportunity to welcome a new life to our race.”

“Agent Fowler must have known this and MECH as well. That’s why they were so precautious when transporting her from one place to the other.”

Optimus made a mental note to ask Fowler about this and his reasoning as to why he wasn’t informed of such an important matter.

“If MECH lay hands on (Y/N) they would experiment on her and the sparkling as soon as it’s  born,” Ratchet says as he walks towards you with a tender expression in his faceplace. “Half Human, half Cybertronian. This child will change everything.”

“Conceived from a son of Primus and a daughter of Unicron.”

The situation was out of legends and myths. The kind of thing that sounds impossible but maybe this little hope inside of you is what is needed to light up their darkest hour. 

“And this may also explain your sudden urge to nest,” the medic’s voice is more light-hearted now. Having flashbacks of Optimus picking up random flowers, pretty rocks and good-looking metal to bring back to the base. When questioned about it, the leader of the Autobots simply responded that he had an urge to do so. 

 “I thought you were going crazy when you started to bring earthly materials to the base.”

“I thought so too.”

Optimus sees you sleep. He has the need to touch your swollen belly, to feel the growing spark within you. You have always been amazing, he knew that much. But he never thought you were capable of conceiving life like their own. What a beautiful sight. One he never thought possible. Now, it’s right in front of him. Hope. The complete personification of it, staring right at him. 

“Will she be alright?”

“She’s stable but she definitely needs to be watched over. Her weakened state is due to the fact that the sparkling is taking too much of her energy,” Ratchet also has his optics on you. The happiest Optimus has ever seen. Knowing that there is hope for their race to continue to grow must be the first real sign of hope Ratchet has had since eons ago.

 “Energon is mostly toxic to humans but the sparkling has created anti-mechs for (y/n)’s immune system to withstand it.  We are going to have to start supplying her with energon if we wish for the sparkling to be born healthy.”

“And most importantly,” he takes a moment to look at his old friend. His optics now showed a more hostile gaze. “A sparkling needs the electromagnetic waves of a caregiver to copy growing behaviors.”

“She needs you, Optimus.”

.

.

.

It was the middle of the night when you woke up. You feel thirsty but need more than water. Your body has had strange cravings lately but you were not about to randomly drink energon just because the baby wanted to. 

You knew this place too well. The smell of metal and bots was everywhere. The soft vans of the air conditioner are comforting. The orange light coming from Ratchet’s data screen illuminated the room enough for you not to be scared. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you missed this place. Even when you much preferred to be sleeping in the coach instead of the medical berth. 

“Do you need something?”

Optimus came back from behind you. You shake your body and back away a few centimeters. 

“My apologies, I did not want to scare you.”

He had mass-displaced. Still over 10 feet and really tall compared to any regular human. He tries to be delicate even when you know he is not fond of this form. Optimus had told you before that it was a bit uncomfortable for him. Of course, he never seemed to complain whenever he mass shifted to lay on your bed.

You look down and caress your stomach. It would be stupid to believe that Ratchet did not find out about your little secret and told Optimus about it. 

“It’s alright.”

Awkwardly, he sits next to you. You thought he might be furious with you. For lying to him in the first place. But now you feel ashamed for a reason you can’t understand. The mere fact of deceiving Optimus Prime is an unpleasant experience. 

“(Y/N) …”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you,” you don’t look at him. Instead, you look down at your feet and how they hang from the medical berth.  “Don’t get angry at Fowler, please. I was the one who told him not to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to share such important information?”

“Because you said … You wished you had never met me,” you feel a knot forming on your throat. It hurts to speak, to even form thoughts and remember what happened seven months ago. His voice is still very present in your memories. The pain is still in your heart.  “So I thought, you wouldn’t want our child either.”

Clenching his servo into a fist, Optimus fights the urge to hold you. You were so close, yet the only thing he can indulge himself with is your scent. It's different now. It was your smell combined with a new aroma. That of his sparkling. 

“I have made many hard decisions in my life,” it was difficult for him to look at you. Now, he feels indignant to stand before you. You were to him what the gods were to their subjects. Devotion is not enough for him to satisfy his service to you. 

 “But the hardest decision was to let you go and I did it because I was scared. Even now, I doubt myself. Maybe you’ll be safer somewhere else. Away from me, away from all of this,”

Reminiscing about the past is painful to him. Most memories of you are lovely, unforgettable. But that time seven months ago when the Decepticons had captured you. The screams, the terror in your face, Megatron ordering you to tell him how scared you were. How he couldn’t do anything. Helpless. Pathetic. 

And for a small second. For a fraction he really believed he had lost you. That was enough for him to know he won’t function without you. 

 “If something were to happen to you … I won’t be able to … I can’t-”

He feels his entire core shake. His servos trembling as they remember holding your almost lifeless body.

“I am sorry,” his voice glitches. “I said unforgivable things with hopes that they would push you away. To protect you. I can live with you hating me but I cannot envision the day the universe takes your soul from me.” 

May Primus have mercy on his spark. May he forgive him but Optimus would throw everything away just to hold you. Just for his words to reach your heart. To feel your touch once again. 

“But I was a fool to believe I could stay away from you. To think that my restraint was as strong as my morals.” 

There is silence and although he doesn’t dare to look at you, he can feel your presence. For now it was enough to have you next to him. 

  “You may not believe in my words but believe this; the only good thing this fool has ever done is love you. It's the only thing … the only decision I have no doubts about.”

Suddenly, softness meets his faceplate. Immediately, his optics were on the blink of releasing energon. With a simple touch, you had healed him. A part of his spark that felt empty was full again. The meaning to his life was restored. 

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” 

You ask him with a gentle voice. Caressing every sense of his audials, engraving them in his processor. To forever remain in the deepest part of his mind. 

He can’t even begin to tell you what he truly feels. He had given up. Come to realize that no words, no language in the present, past nor future could ever be vast enough to express the love he has for you. 

Optimus could try with his actions. That may not be enough either. But he will have all of eternity to make for it. 

“Everyday after you left, I would go to the rooftop on the base and I would count each star in the sky,” he puts a servo on top of your hand and his dermas brush against your skin, a small kiss. “To try and relieve the nights I would count the stars in your eyes.”

You didn��t say anything. Whenever it came to talking, Optimus was always more proficient. You never felt the need to say something either, he always knew what you meant. What you were feeling. Words were not necessary. Not when he can read your eyes so easily. 

“And not even the timeless company of the entire universe could compare to one second with you.”

That night, you rested in his chassis. Missing your warmth, he embraced you. Your stomach pressed lightly against him. This experience was something new to him and he was terrified of it. Afraid he won’t be good enough to be a partner or a father. But as long as you were with him, the impossible became possible. So maybe becoming someone worthy of a sparkling could also be feasible. 

Optimus will try his very best. For you, for the sparkling. For himself. Failing it's not an option and being a father was a greater honor than being a Prime. A title he would give up if only you would ask him. Of course, you will never ask him such a thing. He knew you better than that. 

Optimus believes in Primus, fully. But he is thankful to whatever gods created you. If he could and knew how, he would pray and thank them. 

He now has another chance. Another opportunity. To give you what he has been collecting. 

Maybe tomorrow he will give you all the dandelions he found for you. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry for the late Christmas post. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years I hope y’all enjoyed this. As always, for any questions, comments, concerns or prompt ideas you can send me an inbox. For all the love and support … Thank you! See you next year!

Next:

[izzih22]

maybe paige is on her period and a hormonal wreck and crampy but didn’t tell azzi because she didn’t want to worry her and the next day in practice she missed an easy layup or geno yelled at her and she burst into tears and everyone was shocked and azzi didn’t know why paige was so upset and then paige cried again when she forgot extra stuff and then everyone made fun of her after practice or something (lightheartedly ofc) especially nika or ice and then the next day at practice she cried again and geno was confused and then nika or ice or whoever you choose laughed at her (they still cared for her) and then they get their period as well and paige cried to azzi obv lol

Hormones And Huskies

Note: I think I got it all. I also think this one’s pretty funny ngl😂

It starts with the cramps.

Not the kind Paige can ignore, either — not the dull ache she usually powers through with Advil and a heating pad and pure stubbornness. No, these are gnarly. The kind that make her curl up in bed and go, “Is this what dying feels like?”

But there’s a game this weekend. Film to study. Practice to run. Expectations to meet. So she takes three ibuprofen, pretends she’s fine, and doesn’t tell Azzi. She knows Azzi would worry, or hover, or pull her out of drills, and Paige doesn’t want any of that. She just wants to be a functioning human being.

Unfortunately, her body has other plans.

⸻

Day 1: The Meltdown

Practice is intense. Full-speed scrimmage, Geno yelling, girls diving for loose balls like it’s the Final Four.

Paige is playing fine, considering. But then she misses a layup. A bunny. Wide open. Her bread and butter.

She hears Geno’s voice before she even lands. “PAIGE! That’s a layup! A LAYUP! What are we doing?!”

Normally she’d nod, shake it off, and lock in. But today?

Her throat tightens. Her chest caves.

Before she can stop it, tears are sliding down her cheeks.

And not like, discreet watery eyes. No. Full-on red-faced, silent-crying, why am I sobbing tears.

The gym goes quiet.

“Uh…” Ice mutters. “Did someone just break Paige?”

Nika, confused and mildly alarmed, lowers her water bottle. “Is she crying? Is this real? Is this a prank?”

Azzi’s halfway across the court before anyone else can move, eyes wide, worried but calm. She doesn’t say anything, just touches Paige’s elbow gently.

Paige sniffles. “I’m fine.”

“You’re definitely not,” Azzi says, voice low and even.

Paige wipes her face with her jersey, which only makes it worse. Now she looks blotchy and like she has a toddler’s level of emotional regulation.

“Y-you’re gonna think I’m being stupid.”

Azzi shakes her head. “I literally never think that.”

Paige opens her mouth to respond — and bursts into tears again.

KK leans over to Ice. “This is above our pay grade.”

Ice nods solemnly. “I think we broke the golden retriever.”

⸻

Later that day

After practice, Paige opens her locker and realizes she left her extra compression shorts and backup socks in her dorm.

She stares into the empty space.

And starts crying again.

Azzi turns from her own locker, alarmed. “Paige?! What happened?!”

Paige wails, “I FORGOT MY SECOND PAIR OF SOCKS!”

Nika chokes on her protein shake. “No shot you’re crying over socks.”

“I’m emotionally fragile!” Paige shouts through her tears. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

⸻

Day 2: The Chaos Multiplies

The next morning, Paige wakes up still crampy, bloated, and emotionally unstable. She considers faking sick. But that’s not who she is.

Unfortunately, that means she’s crying on the court again. This time because Geno raised his voice while giving her a defensive assignment.

He doesn’t even yell. Just talks firmly.

Cue: Tears.

Geno stares at her, lost.

“What — are you crying again?!”

Paige sniffles. “I don’t know whyyyyy.”

KK hides behind Nika, whispering, “She’s been hacked. We need a factory reset.”

Ice looks around. “We should get a medic.”

Even Azzi, usually calm in the face of Paige-related madness, is speechless. “Okay, babe. What is going on?”

And that’s when Paige finally breaks.

“I’m on my period and I feel like a walking hormone and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry and now I can’t stop crying and I’m sorry if I’m annoying but I really needed my second pair of socks yesterday and I miss my heating pad and I���”

Azzi puts her hands on Paige’s shoulders. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Paige whimpers. “I’m just also dying.”

⸻

Team Chaos: Fully Activated

Once the truth’s out, the floodgates open.

Azzi wraps her up in a hug and kisses her forehead. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve helped.”

“I didn’t wanna be weak.”

“You’re not. You’re just hormonal. There’s a difference.”

Nika, hearing the last part, nods solemnly. “Yup. Been there. I once cried over a grilled cheese.”

KK pipes up, “I cried watching a turtle cross the road.”

Ice shrugs. “I cried in Target because I couldn’t decide between two brands of deodorant.”

“Wait…” KK frowns, rubbing her stomach. “Why do I kinda feel like…”

Ice squints. “Oh no. No, no, no.”

Nika’s eyes widen. “Wait. You guys—?”

“NOOOOOO,” Ice groans. “It’s happening.”

Paige stares at them in horror. “Did I… start the wave?!”

KK collapses dramatically on the bench. “You contaminated us!”

Azzi is dying laughing now, Paige buried in her shoulder, sniffling but giggling through it.

Geno walks by, sees four girls laying on the floor and Paige being spooned by Azzi in the corner.

He pauses. Blinks. Keeps walking.

“I don’t want to know,” he mutters.

⸻

Post-Practice: Team Roast Session

In the locker room, the mood’s lighter. Paige has fully embraced the fact that she’s now the emotional mascot of the team.

She sits curled up next to Azzi, sipping Gatorade, while Nika sits across from her smirking.

“You really cried over socks?”

“Yes.”

KK adds, “And a missed layup.”

“And Geno’s tone of voice,” Ice contributes.

Azzi, lovingly rubbing Paige’s back: “Let’s not forget the great heating pad monologue.”

“Shut up,” Paige groans, shoving her face into Azzi’s shoulder.

Nika pulls out her phone. “I’m writing a memoir. ’The Period Chronicles: Week of Tears.’ You’re chapter one.”

Paige mutters, “I hate all of you.”

Azzi kisses her temple. “You love us.”

“Only you,” Paige mumbles, pouting harder. “And maybe the heating pad.”

⸻

Day 3: It’s All Downhill from Here

By the third day, it’s officially team-wide.

KK and Ice are dragging through warmups, groaning every five minutes. Nika’s got a heating pack tucked into the waistband of her shorts. Geno looks haunted.

Paige? Still crying occasionally. But now it’s funny.

Like when she got misty-eyed because Azzi passed her a water bottle and said “you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Or when Ice said “nice cut” and Paige got overwhelmed by the support.

She sniffled, “I love us.”

KK yelled, “WE’RE LITERALLY JUST PRACTICING.”

⸻

Final Scene: Softness Overload

That night, Paige is curled up in Azzi’s bed, a heating pad on her stomach, a blanket around her shoulders, and a bag of chocolate chips in her lap.

“I’m sorry I was a hormonal disaster,” she mumbles.

Azzi smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were adorable.”

“I cried like… seven times.”

“You’re human.”

“I also started a period chain reaction.”

Azzi laughs softly. “You’re a leader, remember?”

Paige snorts and buries her face in Azzi’s neck. “You’re so annoying for loving me this much.”

Azzi holds her tighter. “You can cry every day for the rest of our lives and I’ll still love you.”

Paige lets out a choked laugh. “Don’t say that or I will cry again.”

Azzi just kisses her cheek and whispers, “Bring it on.”

[nsfwruru]

Can you do a perv g!p Sakura x innocent fem 6th member?? I honestly can’t describe anymore lol so yea 😭

Idol!Miyawaki Sakura (g!p) x Idol!reader

Sakura has gotta be the most perverted mf you’ve ever lived with, she’s stealing your shit, thinking about you, all the while she’s rubbing one out. She also literally can’t keep her hands to herself, and needs to be checked out for like brain damage or something.

cw: smut, porn with plot (pervy!sakura, dubcon?, creampies, riding, mentions of hentai, dom!kkura, cumplay, thigh fucking, eating out), not proofread, naive!reader, reader is part of lesserafim but generally only lives with sakura

Sakura Miyawaki, being generally the same age as her, you thought you’d both have a lot in common, I mean at face value you both did. You loved music, started your career at a young age, was more secluded from the rest of the functioning world than others, loved manga and anime alike, everything was so compatible between the two of you! It was almost a match made in heaven when it was time to choose the dormitory situations, and you both chose each other of course.

Naturally having moved in together, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad as you found yourself hanging out with her a lot more. Either that be cooking together after a long practice, sitting on her lap while she played overwatch, and even helping her out with the laundry and such. You thought all was going well until suddenly after all those affectionate moments and bonding times, she abruptly stopped hanging around you. Being more reclusive day by day, and being glued on her phone, or glued on her computer, completely ignoring your existence in the dormitory.

This was also around the same time some of your nick-nacks went missing, for example it was something small like maybe a hair tie you left on the counter, or even towels you left outside to dry after a shower. It wasn’t all that concerning cause you could always get another towel or hair tie, but you found it especially odd that even some of your clothes and undergarments went missing.

Whenever you asked your sweet darling roommate about it, she’d brush it off, saying something along the lines of. “Oh look at you being forgetful again!” Or “Maybe Yunjin or Zuha took em’ you know how they are.” Only for the missing items to return back to its rightful spot days later, as if nothing had ever happened.

But don’t fret, she was still that lovable older sister figure whenever you where on set, or whenever you did shots with the other girls, making sure the coddle you the most in front of other people. She would’ve even chew other people out whenever they tried coming close to you, almost as if she was a guard dog protecting her precious bone. Which made your emotions conflict even more whenever you’d arrive back home and try to be friendly, just for her the shoo you away and retreat back to her room to play games or whatever.

You genuinely thought she hated you all of the sudden behind closed doors, although little did you know that presumption was oh so wrong. She didn’t want you to know that whenever those bedroom doors lock, Sakura would pull out the latest new item she’d stolen from you and take a whiff of your scent off of it.

If it was something that was easily moveable, she would wrap it around her thick length, while reading one of those filthy mangas she loved so much, thinking it was you fucking yourself on her dick, instead of this uncomfortable towel fabric. She had no common decency, having no concern that she was cumming all over your stuff, while reading hentai, while thinking about you. Sakura literally didn’t even care if you heard you or not, even when you are at home, working on your journal or something, she’s groaning out your name.

Even then you were so concerned that you did something wrong, that you started going out and getting groceries to cook for her every night. Sometimes being so exhausted from practice you’d cook her a nice hot meal she’d love so much, and pass out on your bed. Sakura noticed all your efforts but instead of telling you that she was never mad in the first place, she’d continue the charade and let you do girlfriend things to please her and make her happy again, just because it turned her on even further.

She wanted to see how far you could go to make her happy, that she started calculating every speech and movement she did to see if you’d pay attention to what she wanted you to do. Moreover, Sakura had learnt these tactics from one of her highly exploitative mangas, using typical methodical porn tactics to fuck with your innocent little brain.

Sakura would subtly hint that she wasn’t gonna be mad at you, unless you started wearing those skimpy maid dresses that she bought you. And being the innocent people pleaser you were, you’d change out of your normal house clothes into the ones she gave you, under the guise it was “normal japanese pajamas.” Not being as chronically online as her, you thought nothing of it, slowly starting to wear the costumes she got you…all the time.

She felt like she was living her most deprived fantasies through you, for her, you were practically just a walking sex doll she couldn’t touch, not just yet. After all of this, she was starting to warm up to you again, little did you know this was all part of the plan to get you fucked up on her.

Ever single moment you spent trying to please her, the harder she got by the moment, it was hard to keep her boner under wraps whenever you’d wear those cute little short skirts while you sat nicely on her lap. Or how she’d subtly grind, and dry hump your ass whenever you were bent down cooking in the kitchen. All of these factors where things you choose to ignore because this was all for your precious roommate.

Sakura, being the perverted oldest she was, would sneak into your room at night, and take raunchy photos whenever she could whenever you slept. All to scurry back to her bedroom and use it as fap material once more.

It all came to a boiling point when you were rubbing your ass against her innocently, during one of her classic shooter gaming sessions. Her microphone which was on while she talked with her other teammates, was all of the sudden off. She began to place the headphone down onto the desk slowly letting it rest it atop the table.

With a lack of communication she lifted your waist off her hips and back down onto the exact placement of her rager was “Fuck Y/N baby, I can’t hold it anymore, don’t you know how hard you make me?” Sakura would bite back, watching you grind over her cock slowly, urging you to feel her.

“Kkura—! What the hell are you doing? Let go of me, it feels weird.” You’d plead, not liking the sensation it was bringing you whenever your cunt would graze upon her fabric boxers. Which was the only thing she would wear whenever she’d asked you to sit on her lap.

It didn’t make the situation better when you realized her hardened cock covered in a light piece of fabric, was making direct contact with your underwear as you had been forced to put on such skimpy skirt. The friction causing you to dig your nails into her knees, causing a halt to any further movement, this obviously ticked Sakura off, as her hands slid their way to her waist, digging into your skin harshly.

“Shit, don’t stop moving you dumb fuckin’ whore, your the one who’s been making me feel this way all the time, don’t you think I need a little compensation?” Sakura groaned, pulling down her boxers to reveal her hardened cock, she didn’t take a single second of waste, before sliding it in between your thighs and right in front of you slick panties, which was damp with wetness from your cunt. Instead of fucking you brainless here and now she wanted to take her sweet time.

Slowly thrusting into your thighs like a dirty dog, she leaned you over her keyboard as she continued to pleasure herself. Using your plush thighs almost like a fuck toy, she was letting out the purest, loudest groans she could ever formulate. The way her length worked its way in and out of your thighs as she held you up, fucking into you, letting the precum build on top of the tip of her cock, made the dampness of your panties darken. “Kkura, wait this is wrong— we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Well you shoudnt have been teasin’ me this whole time bitch. Walking around all dolled up with those dresses I gave you— hah, fuck that’s good.” She groaned, unable to finish her words as she quickened her pace, working her way into your thighs, only imagining if it was your sweet pussy instead, but cumming on your thighs was good too. “Oh shit! Fuck!” She grunted out, rutting into your thighs.

Her cum splattered all over your stomach and thighs, fucking slowly into you as she finished, her wet, sticky, fluids plastered all over your freshly cleaned body made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know your roommate, let alone your member was capable of doing something like this, despite repeatedly telling her not to. Before you had time to react and wipe all the shit off of you, she’s pulling your panties down hungrily.

“Sakura! Enough!” You pleaded with her, all the while she’s rolling her eyes at your demands, because how can a slut like you ask for anything. Sakura brings you up and pushed you down on the desk, having no concern that your tits are literally resting on the keyboard and your face is almost pushed up against the monitor screen. She’s been waiting for this moment her whole entire life, but she isn’t cruel, she wants to get you prepped up before she fucks you so good you can’t walk anymore.

Bringing her face down to your pussy, she begins to do soft kitten licks onto the folds, examining each and every crack as she spreads you wide open. Her tongue darting into wherever it can, trying to bring all the juices out from you as a sort of lubricant for what she was going to do next. Finally after eating you out for what seemed like hours, and letting you cum on her tongue a couple of times, she left one last kiss before pulling away. “Mhm baby, I think you’re all ready now.” Due to your own pleasure you failed to notice how she was jerking herself off every time she made contact with your pussy, cumming whenever you were, completely just enthralled with the view.

Bringing herself back up and lining her dick into your entrances, she lets out a low, instinctual growl, before slowly pushing herself in. The mix of your already overstimulated body, and her unexplainable girth, caused you to shake uncontrollably, your head peeking up when she fully bottomed herself out into you. “Ah! Fuck— mmpfh— Kkura!”

Your words were slurred, her name rolling off your tongue so easily, with every thrust a new hiccuped moan would intervene. The noises of skin slapping one another, and the gushes of your inside made Sakura want to bust in you then and there, though, she desperately wanted to hear more of you. Sakura rolled her eyes back from how nicely you were taking her at that moment, pounded into you until it was nothing but your voice calling out to her that filled the room.

“Shit, your so tight, fuckin’ whore” She grunted underneath her breath, each word following a harsh slam into your cervix. Her breathing became more rugged as she continued, the pounding less calculated, and the knot in your stomach threatened to unwind. Taking a fist full of your hair into her palms, Sakura pushed your head onto the monitor screen, giving her the ability to push deeper into your guts you didn’t know she could reach.

Your body, one that was once filled with so much pain and discomfort, was now truly fully consumed with pleasure and ecstasy. The squelching noises filled the room, her names rolled off your tongue so easily, “Saku, mhm…”

She had no choice but to use this as leverage, maybe even confirmation that you wanted this too, her boner twitching at the thought of doing this again, and again… and again. Sakura, pulled her hands up towards your face and inserted her fingers into your mouth, as you felt her climax come closer and closer.

Your hips grinded all over hers, liking the way her dick warmed up every single inch of you, until your felt your knees buckle at the sensation. “Mpphm!” You moan out, your sounds muffled by Sakura, as her fingers where still pushed into to base of your tongue, making you unable to formulate coherent sentences. Your juices coating her member, leaving a slight stream of wetness running down your leg as Sakura fucking you through your high.

“Good girl, cum— cum for me baby.” She groaned, continuing to fuck into your overstimulated cunt until she reached her sweet release. With a few more heavy slams, you felt Sakura’s ruthless rhythm falter, she took the primal instinctive to pull you up by your hair, watching you intently as she dumped the rest of her cum inside of you.

Pushing your lips together as she bottomed you out, still yanking at your hair, she let a glob of spit run into your mouth as she pulled away. Pushing your head down to the monitor once more as she got up, and off of you, the sensation of her living your gummy insides sent a shiver down your spine, but you where too fucked out of your mind to comment on that. “Fuckin’ slut, took this long to fuck you when you clearly wanted it as much as I do.”

She stood up and grabbed her boxers, pulling them back onto herself before taking in the sight in front of her. The roommate and bandmate she so desperately wanted to fuck for months, was sprawled onto her gaming desk like this was an artwork in itself. “Shit bitch you look good like this, get ready for tomorrow, I wanna do this again.” She chirped, leaning down to look at your dazed state before leaving a peck on your forehead, pulling away and scurrying out of the room like nothing happened.

[starrycloak]

I attended a series of lectures on neuroscience these last few days (well, they were a super basic cliffnotes-esque version of the topic cause medicine/STEM is not my field of work, so apologies for any inaccuracies ahead), and when the lecturer brought up the importance of the frontal lobe, she casually alluded to what happened to Phineas P. Gage and-

wbk but also non-accidental split imagery one more time ^

She also briefly touched upon the 'cuts' of the brain (left and right hemispheres, lobes —and primary functions of each—, gray and white matter) and neural processes like synapsis —communication between neurons by chemical and electrical reactions—, but one of the things that stood out to me the most was the creation and reconfiguration/transformation/plasticity of neural circuits.

A neural circuit is a population of neurons interconnected by synapses to carry out a specific function —i.e. processing specific information and sending signals to other parts of the brain and body — when activated.

definition just for context; the point of bringing this up being what these circuits look like:

^^^this is just a guide alluding to the differences in morphology neurons can have, but they kinda giving-

and-

literally when the lecturer first showed what these cells look like I was like "neat, the tree of life. kinda, sorta. out to deliver trauma to the rest of the nervous system :))"

and (to the right, for comparison: what neuron synapses look like)

and of course, not totally accurate comparison ahead, but I couldn't resist the slight visual graphy coinkidink with the letter-assigned grid:

Additionally, zooming out, multiple neural circuits can interconnect with one another to form large scale brain networks, and the one that stood out to me was the default mode network (DMN):

also known as the medial frontoparietal network, it's a large-scale brain network [...] best known for being active when a person is not focused on the outside world and the brain is at wakeful rest, such as during daydreaming and mind-wandering.

Other times that the DMN is active include when the individual is thinking about others, thinking about themselves, remembering the past, and planning for the future. The DMN creates a coherent "internal narrative" control to the construction of a sense of self.

^ smart people, pls do with this info what you must.

the point I think I was trying to make: what if the blue UD we know has blurred the lines between being a representation of will's subconscious mindscape and also a visual abstraction of the biological/neurological state of his brain —as the two, like irl, are so intrinsically connected?

which, fortunately, means hope for will and the UD too (wbk), because by this line of thought/theory of sorts, the capacity neural circuits have to rearrange themselves, even after years and so much pain, can transform the blue UD, will's mind, as we've come to know it (the plasticity I was reffering to at the beginning of the post). However, it's important to note that to learn something new, you have to unlearn other stuff to make room for it.

I'm far from the first to talk about this topic, so check out the following posts! This one by @erikiara80, along the lines of her loop theory, dives into the implications of will's possible injury or death caused by having been hit on the head, particularly the zone closest to the frontal lobe, by a blunt object.

@conflictofthemind also has a great post about the treeflayer (shoutout and tysm to @threemanoperation for telling me about it and for prompting me to post this) with more tree imagery that evokes similar shapes to those of neurons (and it also links to Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan/Neverland parallels).

edit: everyone, please take a look at the additions other users have written on their reblogs! you won't want to miss them!

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[pvlvsdog]

Uh hi!! I have never requested for LC so if it's.weirs sounding. Sorry.

Anyways Reader teasing the sinners? (Hc or smth. Whatever works best for you! :D)

No worries! Oh, if you’ve only seen the stuff my irl group left in my inbox /lh /nm /aff this isn’t weird at all! I try to work with hcs when I can, but not specifying that is on me, so until I get around to editing my bio, I suppose I do drabbles n stuff too. Or try haha

UNEDITED

Ryoshu lets out a ‘hmpf’ sound in a what that you can’t really tell if she’s annoyed or amused. She’s considered pretty intimidating by most so it is a bit funny to her to see you acting so bold. Especially when others look at you with disbelief. A few times you could swear the corners of her lips moved upwards. After all, she does enjoy a good quip or any other display of sharp wit. Which then leads to her teasing you right back, though her timing is always unexpected. It’s almost like a little game you two play, seeing where you can push the other one (within reason). And if asked, Ryoshu will shamelessly admit that she enjoys that part of your shared routine

With Rodya it’s a bit hit or miss. It really depends on what you say and it’s hard to read what will get a pass. I mean, to someone who doesn’t pay much mind to her, everything gets a pass. But there are times where you unknowingly will hit a sore spot and her joking demeanour will become a lot more rehearsed. Her main way of avoiding her self conscious thoughts is by making little jabs at others, so don’t be surprised if her ‘silly payback’ stings a bit. Sometimes it’s fine. But it’s not easy to tell if your teasing will make her blush or if it will ruin her day. Her ego, despite the front she puts up, is incredibly fragile and even when you’re innocently teasing her, she might assume you’re looking down on her. Even if she won’t outright say it, you will feel her discomfort shortly after

It’s only a little less unlikely for Don to misconstrue your words. Her love language is very earnest and genuine, so sometimes she just doesn’t get the purpose of your teasing. However, she’s less likely to assume anything bad by it and mostly it gets the desired reaction out of her. Doesn’t really tease you back though, it’s just not her style of affection, I think

You’d think Hong Lu falls somewhere in the similar category but he’s way more witty than he gets credit for and he goes along with your teasing. He sees it as the playful banter it is and when you least expect it he’ll innocently say something to get you just as worked up as you wanted to make him. Always a bit of a (pleasant) “jumpscare” when he does that. Hard to out-tease the lad, but it’s always a good time for both parties when you try :3

Ishmael gives you the most typical reaction. She’s way more used to being the one that does the teasing so when you start with your sillies, she tries to “fight back”. No luck though, you usually get her to flush and there’s no doubt your words affect her. She huffs something out for you to shut up but she’s not very convincing whenever she does so

But if you think Ish reacts strongly, you need to look at Heathcliff. Most times he’ll get absolutely awkward about it. Sure, sometimes he’s a bit oblivious. A bit like when he got offended that Dante thought he frequented clubs. When he was informed that it was a positive kind of comment, he got all awkward and didn’t really know what to do with himself, since that was not the kind of comment he expected to be directed at him. So if you want him worked up and temporarily not-functional, I absolutely recommend teasing the bloke

On a surface level, Faust is not only not affected but not very receptive to your teasing. She responds very matter-of-factly and with the same seriousness in her vacant eyes as if she was announcing the end of your work day. But don’t be fooled. There are occasions where she’ll pull an uno reverse card on you. Responding calmly she’ll inquire about the meaning behind your playful comment until you verbally run into a corner to the point where you’re admitting to the affectionate undertones of your teasing. You don’t even know how she does it. One second you’re being all silly and flirty and the next you’re all surrendered telling her how you like her, getting flustered by her painfully practical approach

The main difference with Outis is that she might genuinely not get it. Her guard’s always up and she’s been restless for so long, without a safe place to call her own, that playful banter almost seems like a luxury she can’t afford. She’s still in the mindset of surviving day to day (I mean… her job doesn’t exactly make it easy to let go of that notion) and you’re so casual with her. It makes her feel like a version of herself she had to bury a long time ago. But because of that contrast, she sometimes needs time to catch your teasing tone. She never assumes you mean anything bad by your comments, she likes you enough to grant you her patience and understanding way more than the others, but it takes up to 3 tries for her to catch the intent of your words. She’s not very good at reading back, but if you want to try flustering her, this is a good start

Then we have Meursault. He just really doesn’t get it. Each comment you make gets a painfully serious response out of him and you can’t really tell if he’s messing with you or if he really doesn’t get it. Knowing him, it might be the latter. Though if your teasing is more of the physical kind, you might affect him a bit. On the inside though, sorry, but he won’t let that kind of feeling you give him affect his “professional approach”

And we’re back to characters you would make an absolute mess out of. This time, the title goes to Dante. They are so used to being a tool and not having people pay much close attention to them (other than examining their changed body) that your teasing takes them by surprise. Add to that the fact that they can be rather awkward at times and you get the picture of your manager being delightfully graceless in their attempts to give any proper reaction or response. A few times your coworkers joked that you broke them. That did not help to make Dante more coherent

Before opening himself up, Yi Sang would be rather defeatist, not engaging much in your silliness. But that changes after he gets some time to grow and heal when the bus leads him to revisit his past. It’s much more easy to get a blush or a faint smile out of him and he might even surprise you with some (quite wordy) responses of his own

The only word to describe Gregor’s reaction is ‘exasperated’. He’s not like, outright mad or anything. Yeah, I mean, you do kind of have to watch not to hit a painful spot, but it’s easier to avoid with him (just no bug stuff and you’re pretty much in the clear) plus, as awful as I feel for saying this, he’s way too defeatist to counter most painful comments too. His main thing though is that he can’t believe how bold and blatant you are. Especially teasing him in this way. Him, out of everyone in the bus. I mean, he can’t call himself a catch and the way he sees it, there are much more attractive, put together and younger people you could be going after. Publically at that. Besides, some things you say are just way bolder than anything he could even say when drunk (or so he tells himself, tipsy Gregor is not as subtle as sober Greg would like to believe). If you knew him less, you could think that the way he sighs and shakes his head is a sign of total rejection, but that’s not the case. To be fair, if he tried to respond properly he would probably be more awkward. Romance is foreign to him and it stresses him out that he can’t really guess what people say in situations like this. The way you know you did good is when he completely goes blank. Honestly, he looks a bit staggered. The one time he did try to make a sound, he sounded like that too-

Lastly, Sinclair is a tough one. Because I don’t think it’s just so cut and dry that I can just say he gets cute and blushy. He’s… eager at heart (he wants to have someone, so having you show interest is definitely big for him) but so inexperienced and anxious, it doesn’t help his case. But he’s also one of the sinners that is used to being seen less-than and his insecurity makes him fear that your teasing might have different implications. He’s been called useless and naive, amongst other things, so many times. And he doesn’t want to be seen as some weak willed pushover. Especially not by you. You don’t think that, do you? He prays you don’t. His work is tough on him as is, it would be a lie to say you aren’t a beacon of light amongst his gore and guilt filled world. You’ve seen how easy it was to get him down when his coworkers made comments about his appearance. So it’s 50/50 with him. He might try to object. Sometimes he might actually come off too strongly. Other times he just fumbles with his words. And sometimes, when he is sure that your comment is definitely a good natured one, he just fumbles in general. Honestly, this is a half joke but I can almost see him blurt out ‘I want you’ in response like one time and then scurry off terrified wishing to never be resurrected again

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | DC Convention, September 22, 2024, Main Panel Summary

(FangasmSPN)

Jensen apparently filmed all night on Friday and flew straight here ??? does he sleep???? (x) JJ to her dad: I miss you so much I can't even function. @JensenAckles : I have a few more years of being the center of her universe #SPNDC (x) When asked what they would tell their 16-year old that wants a tattoo, @JensenAckles "A tattoo is a story. You should wait until you've lived enough life to have a good story." (x) Jensen: at 15 you don't have anything figured out yet so just tell her that (x) “There was a scene where dean gets upset and takes a crow bar to the car… and that hurt. That hurt Jensen. But they actually had a panel there so, just so you know, I wasn’t hitting… ✨her✨” (x) Someone asked if there’s a question that they’re like “ugh i hope they hope people don’t ask this agaINNNNN”and Jared said some of the prank stuff i could kiss him (x) Jensen did say tho that even questions they’ve been asked before they think on them over time and there’s not really an “oh no” question cuz we’re all so respectful and good about stuff and if there IS a problem they’ll be like “not answering that NEXT” (x) Jensen: My partner on this new show is 6’6. a 265 lb rugby player. I look TINY compared to him. Like a little baby boy #spndc (x) Question: "Is there anything you would like people to know about you?" @JensenAckles "I am not a good liar. Being an actor, you'd think I'd be a better liar, but I'm not. @DanneelHarris catches me whenever I try." (x) Apparently Danneel can always fucking tell when Jensen is lying lmfao she’s like “you’re AWFUL at that” (x) .@JensenAckles : I wish these communities of fans existed when we were young. I'm glad they do today. #SPNDC (x) Fan: I have anxiety and depression so i just need advice on how to handle it Jared: i seek professional help. i do! Jensen: I think you’ve already taken a huge step in just admitting it to a room of hundreds. know its a journey. It's not something that just gets fixed (x) Dream roles they’ve always wanted to play Jensen: batman. James Bond. Indiana Jones. and a Jedi. (x) Fan: *ask abt video games* Jensen: Dean would just kill dance dance revolution (x)

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 9

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:✧*: *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧

Series Masterlist <3

Summary: You push Homelander to the brink, and yet… you’re the only one who can save him.

Warnings: violence, smut, yandere, control, age gap relationship, self harm, cutting, knifes, guns, aggressive behavior, harassment, foul language (let me know if i forgot any<3)

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ:

Vaught had given you barely twenty-four hours to breathe before forcing you in front of the cameras.

You had to remind yourself you weren’t doing it for them, you were doing it for the people.

For Mrs. Lieberman, even if her husband was a piece of shit.

Was he even a piece of shit?

While you may be one of the good supes, you are a diamond in the rough. You’ve heard stories of supes hurting others, taking and never giving.

Maybe he was right in what he said.

Maybe he had every right to puncture you so deeply, and you’re not even referring to the stab wound.

Vought on the other hand had its own agenda, and it didn’t include your feelings.

“He was a piece of shit,” Homelander reminds you. “He deserved to die.”

You snap out of your trance.

Does he fucking read minds too?

He gives you a “tsk tsk” look, coming up behind you and grabbing your waist.

He can’t read minds, he just already knows you so well.

Homelander insisted on taking you up to your bed the night you were discharged.

You guys settled in and watched another dumb reality show.

While yes, the shows are dumb, it’s nice to watch normal people being normal and doing normal things.

He watched as you fell asleep, stroking your hair and taking in your scent.

The next morning, you could tell he didn’t sleep at all, again.

While you understood he didn’t really need sleep to function, you couldn’t help but feel bad.

You felt bad he was so restless, and you were the reason why.

Your makeup was sprawled out on the counter.

One thing that hasn’t changed about you since taking compound V is your lack of organization, your messy side.

Sometimes putting stuff away neatly feels to overwhelming.

Homelander looked at the mess on the counter and couldn’t help but laugh.

Moments like these he was reminded of your age, the youth in you that still exists.

“Why don’t you just have them do your makeup?” He asks.

“I like doing it,” you respond. “Sue me.”

You sit on the bathroom counter, your feet in the sink.

You slowly put on your makeup, as if slowing down would help you avoid this god forsaken interview.

You examine your neck. A faint raised scar sit on top of it.

You were still not used to the way your body healed so quickly.

When you first were injected, you wanted to try everything, testing yourself to the brink.

You slit your wrists so deep you swore it was the end, but marvelously, you lived.

You never told anyone this.

You have kept a lot of things to yourself over the years.

Maybe one day you could tell him.

If anyone, he’d understand.

—

Homelander sat next to you in the sterile, white-lit CNN studio, his presence towering even in stillness.

The host, Mark Davidson, was the perfect embodiment of corporate news.

Polished, rehearsed, the kind of man who probably voted against the Equal Rights Amendment but smiled on camera and called female colleagues “kiddo.”

You could tell this was true just based on his appearance, but his demeanor was another story.

He addressed Homelander immediately, kissing his ass as if they were longtime pals.

Does he know who he’s trying to impress?

Like Homelander gives a fuck.

Mark eyes you up and down, sizing you up and taking in every inch of your curves.

Looking at the way your suit squeezes your ass. Maybe you should’ve got longer shorts like Homelander suggested.

You find yourself pulling them down.

Homelander doesn’t miss a beat, he notices this exchange and his face falls.

Here we go.

The segment started smoothly, fake smiles and empty pleasantries.

“First off,” Mark began, leaning slightly toward Homelander, “let me just say—what a remarkable display of heroism from you yesterday. The way you handled the shooter, the way you neutralized the threat—truly, an inspiration,” Mark gestures to you, “This one is lucky to be able to shadow you the way she did yesterday. Not a lot of supes, especially women supes can say they’ve had that experience. Truly once in a lifetime, kiddo.”

Ew.

Homelander’s face didn’t change at first. A slow blink. A subtle shift in energy, but you felt it.

That coiled thing of his beneath the surface.

The interviewer kept going, oblivious.

“The people of New York—and the country—owe you their thanks. It’s moments like these that remind us why you’re America’s greatest hero, Homelander.”

Ashley, standing just off-camera, was already rubbing her temples.

And then—

“I wasn’t going to do shit.”

A silence so thick it seemed to suck the air from the studio.

Mark Davidson blinked. “…I’m sorry?”

Homelander leaned forward, his voice deceptively smooth.

“Come on Marky Mark. You’re not that old… you have a toupee but your hearing is still intact, right? I said, I. wasn’t. going. to. do. shit.”

The words were sharp, like the edge of a blade being slowly pressed to someone’s throat. He gestured toward you.

“I’d like you to apologize for treating her like an idiot. Because she’s the one who ran through the crowd. She’s the one who stopped bullets with her hands. I was simply enjoying the show. I got to say, watching my girl in action like that really made my cock hard.”

Homelander grabs his junk, and then gives an evil, smile.

Your eyes widen.

You’re praying to God your dad isn’t watching this on TV.

Mark opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“And what’d she get for all the work she did?”

Homelander’s voice darkened, the weight of it pressing into the room.

“Some incel with a tiny dick shooting her in the chest. And then an ungrateful prick stabbing her in the fucking neck. And then, you, an old geezer with balls that probably hang down to the floor as soon as your pants drop, treating her like nothing. God bless America, am I right?!”

The camera operator hesitated, looking toward the producers.

Ashley, off to the side, looked like she was about to vomit.

“Cut it! Cut the fucking cameras!” She pleads.

Mark forced a chuckle, shifting slightly in his seat. “Well, of course, we—”

“Oh yeah,” Homelander continued, flashing that too-perfect smile, “I killed him too. Both of them. Didn’t I, baby?”

Homelander puts a possessive hand on your leg.

“And I’d do it again.”

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut.

The host paled. “Right, but—”

“Say you’re sorry.”

A second of pure, suffocating silence.

“Did I fucking stutter? I said, say you’re sorry.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Now say it like you mean it. And I want you to look into the camera while you say it. So the viewers at home, the wonderful citizens of America know how fucking sorry you are.”

“I….. I’m sorry. I am really sorry.” Mark says.

Ashley frantically gestured to the control room.

Cut it. Cut it now.

The segment’s lead producer hesitated—Vought wouldn’t like this, but ratings…

The feed stayed live.

Mark cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

You exhaled, keeping your posture poised, but the moment was spiraling.

You needed to smooth this over before Homelander decided to go completely off the rails.

So you leaned in slightly, brushing your fingers against Homelander’s wrist—a tiny touch, barely noticeable, but he felt it.

His muscles twitched, but the edge of his rage dulled just a little. You knew he’d appreciate it.

“Look,” you said, keeping your voice calm, even. “At the end of the day, we’re here to protect people. That’s the priority.”

You glanced at Mark. “And I think what Homelander is saying—passionately—is that it’s easy to put people like us on a pedestal. But we’re still…” You hesitated for half a second, choosing your words carefully.

“We’re still people. We have families and friends and people who love us. Some of us didn’t even choose to be this way. And yet, we continue to fight for all of you.”

Homelander’s lip twitched, amusement flickering through his irritation. How did you pull that out of your ass? Nice save.

Mark forced a tight smile. “Of course. And on that note, let’s take a quick break.”

—

The second the cameras cut, Ashley grabbed onto her assistant, also Ashley.

“Oh my God,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Does he ever stop talking?”

Homelander grinned, hearing her.

“I don’t appreciate the way he spoke to her.”

Ashley closed her eyes briefly, muttering something that sounded a lot like “fucking kill me” before inhaling sharply.

She approaches the two of you with panicked strides.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever. We have another sit-down with Cameron Coleman, and—”

“No.”

Ashley blinked.

“No?”

Homelander smiled. “We’re done.”

She opened her mouth—then shut it. Not worth it.

She turned to you instead. “Can you at least—”

“I’d like to take a day to recover after being stabbed in the neck,” you said simply. “If that’s okay with you, Ashley.”

Ashley groaned, throwing her hands up.

“Great. Perfect. Fantastic. I hope you two are very happy together.”

—

The second you stepped out into the crisp New York air, Homelander turned to you with a smirk.

“Dinner tonight?”

The shift was so abrupt you almost laughed.

You raised a brow.

“We’re just ignoring all of that?”

“What’s there to ignore?” he said smoothly. “I defended my girl on national television. Very romantic, if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t protest.

“And you… you liked it.” Homelander said.

It’s true.

Yesterday, you would’ve torn him a part for claiming you on national television.

But this time?

It was hot the way he defended you, the way he treated you as an equal and made sure the man said sorry.

It turned you on, to be honest.

You give an innocent little smile and decide not to say a word.

He knows that look— a naughty girl, trying to hide how naughty she really is.

—

Dinner felt… normal.

Or at least, as normal as things could be.

You both traded in your suits for something more relaxed.

Homelander wasn’t good at wearing “normal clothes”.

To be honest, he didn’t really own any. Never had a reason to wear them.

While you had the fancy designer clothing he bought you, you didn’t love dressing up. You preferred comfort.

You threw on a baggy pair of low rise jeans, a cashmere sweater, and some loafers. Hopefully this would be good enough for wherever you two were headed.

You had a feeling he would appreciate more skin, but that’s just not who you were.

This confused him, as during the photoshoot, you had no problem wearing a bikini, sexualizing yourself. But that was different. That was you taking your power back. Right now, you just wanted to be cozy.

The restaurant was intimate, warm candlelight flickering against polished wood.

Paparazzi lurked outside, but neither of you cared.

For the first time in days, you let yourself relax.

You figured you’d get home to thousands of tweets criticizing the fact you two went on a date after a mass shooting. Fuck ‘em.

For a moment, you felt like you could finally breathe, catching yourself laughing at something stupid he said.

The bill came, but you both wanted to basque in the normalcy a little longer.

“Let’s get another drink,” you mused.

Homelander smirked. “Is that a request or a command?”

You grinned. “Neither. It’s just a suggestion.”

“Then I suggest we do it.”

—

The bar was dim, humming with quiet conversation.

He ordered an old fashioned, you ordered a dirty martini.

His fingers drum against his glass, slow and methodical, as he watches the amber liquid swirl inside.

You sip your martini, savoring the briny bite of it as you glance around the bar.

The low hum of conversation, the clink of ice in glasses, the faint melody of jazz drifting through the air—it all feels normal.

Comforting, even.

For the first time in a long time, you feel at ease.

The tension in your shoulders loosens, the ever-present hum of anxiety in the back of your mind dulls.

You’re not waiting for something to go wrong. Not looking for a fight.

But then, like clockwork… the universe delivers.

“Homelander, oh my god, it’s really you!”

Two girls your age swarm him like he’s some kind of messiah.

They’re draped in tight dresses, teetering on sky-high heels, cleavage spilling out, tits on display.

“Hi, ladies,” Homelander greets them, his voice dripping with amusement.

He won’t deny it— forty-eight hours ago, he would’ve dragged one of them into the bathroom.

Fucked her raw, left Ashley to clean up the PR mess.

Now, he actually tries to feel something—lust, arousal, that primal hunger that used to come so naturally. But it’s gone.

Replaced with the obsession of you.

That doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun, though—just enough to get under your skin.

One of the girls clings to his arm, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Where’s your suit?” she asks in that unmistakable Kardashian-esque drawl.

Homelander places a hand on her lower back.

You fume.

Electricity crackles through your veins, invisible to the naked eye.

Jealousy.

Fantastic.

“Well, you see, this one here is a little too humble—made me come out in Tom Ford,” he smirks.

You swirl the olives in your martini, forcing a smirk of your own as you glance up at the group.

You don’t want him to know this is getting to you, though he doesn’t need to hear your heartbeat twice to figure that out.

And he fucking loves that sound.

“Well, this is pretty hot too. I won’t lie.” The girl giggles, flipping her hair.

Homelander humors her with a charming smile, pretending to give a shit.

“Isn’t it?” you chime in, standing from your chair. “Told you it would turn you into a looker! I was right.”

You turn to the bartender, raising a finger.

“Hey, when you get a minute, how about a round of shots for everyone in the bar? On Homelander. America’s hero!”

The girls cheer, mistaking your pettiness for generosity.

Homelander’s smirk falters.

He started this to make you jealous, to get you hot and bothered.

But in true stubborn fashion—you had to take it a step further. Didn’t you?

“Can you take a picture of us?!” the ringleader chirps, holding out her phone.

“Oh my gosh. Of course! I would love to.”

You take the phone, pretending to snap a hundred pictures.

In reality, you’ve just wiped it clean with a factory reset, just to make her life difficult.

I mean, hey. It’s better than what you really want to do for her.

“Y’all have so much fun,” you say sweetly, handing it back.

“I’m gonna see if one of those Columbia boys over there wants to fuck me.”

You can’t believe those words just came out of your mouth.

The glass in Homelander’s hand shatters. One of the girls shrieks.

“We’re leaving,” he growls, grabbing your arm in a vice grip.

That’ll leave a bruise.

—

He drags you outside, around the corner, into the shadows.

He towers over you, chest heaving, eyes searing into yours.

His hand twitches, moving toward your throat—but then he remembers your voice from the other night.

“You choked me,” you had whispered, wide-eyed and fragile.

He clenches his jaw, then slams his fist into the brick beside your head, cracking it.

He can’t hurt you. He’s trying so hard not to.

But he has to release the monster somehow…

Why did you have to pull it out of him?

“What the fuck was that?” he demands.

You tilt your head, lips curling. “Me playing your game. Duh.”

His nostrils flare. “You want to be fucked by some young college kid? Someone your age? They won’t know how to touch you. They won’t know how to make you feel the way I do. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re mine?”

“Oh, come on.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “I was just trying to piss you off.”

Your breath was unsteady, anger simmering just beneath the surface. You knew exactly what he was doing—flirting with those girls right in front of you, smirking when he caught you watching.

Baiting you. Testing you.

“You knew what you were doing,” you snapped, your voice sharp, cutting. “Flirting like that. In front of me.”

Your hands clenched at your sides, heat rising in your chest.

“I thought tonight was supposed to be normal,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Just me and you. But there’s always going to be a game, isn’t there?”

Your voice wavered, but you pushed through, eyes burning as you glared up at him.

“Always some fucking twist,” you spat, frustrated, exhausted, raw.

“Because you don’t know how to just be a good, normal, fucking person.”

His fists loosen against the brick, his gaze softening—just a fraction.

“You’re jealous,” he murmurs.

“No, I’m not. I just think it’s really fucking immature to—”

“You’re jealous. Just admit it.”

“I’m not fucking jealous!” you snap, shoving him with more force than you knew you had.

Blame it on the martini.

A low growl rumbles in his chest. His cock throbs.

Oh, how he wants to take you—hard, rough, make you feel it.

He thought you were too fragile…

Maybe you’re not.

You stare at each other, the tension thick enough to snap, and then—you collide.

Mouths crash, hands claw, bodies tangle.

Your legs wrap around him as he lifts you effortlessly, lips dragging over your throat, nipping, teasing.

“My sweet, jealous girl,” he taunts against your skin, voice dark and dripping with intent.

“Daddy has to punish you now.”

Before you can react, you’re airborne, the wind rushing past you.

Minutes later, you crash through his balcony doors, swallowed by the dim glow of the room.

“Turn around,” he orders, rough, commanding.

“Hands and knees.”

You obey without hesitation.

Fabric tears.

“I told you I had to punish you,” he murmurs, kneeling behind you. His palm comes down—hard. A sharp gasp escapes you, your body jerking forward at the sting.

It hurts. It burns.

But fuck, it feels so good.

Then he stills.

His hands remain on you, warm and trembling. His breath is ragged, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven movements.

And that’s when it hits him.

You’re innocent.

His sweet girl. His delicate thing.

He had forgotten.

Again.

Fuck.

A violent war rages inside him.

The instinct to take, to claim, to devour you whole—it burns like an inferno.

But you—you aren’t meant for that.

You’re trusting him with something no one else ever has.

And that trust?

It’s both his salvation and his undoing.

His hands, once gripping your hips like a vice, loosen.

He exhales sharply, like he’s forcing himself back into his body. Back into control.

Then, gently—so gently—he turns you over, onto your back, caging you beneath him.

His forehead presses to yours, his fingers trembling as they trace your lips.

His touch is different now.

Not punishing.

Not possessive.

Just… reverent.

“I—” He stops himself, shaking his head, struggling for air.

He needs a second to reel himself in.

Your hands slide up his arms, fingers curling at his shoulders.

Your pulse is fast, but not with fear.

With something else.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “I can’t.”

You reach up, brushing his hair back from his face, grounding him.

“You won’t,” you whisper.

He wants to believe you, but God help him.

He knows himself too well.

“You don’t know that,” he grits out, still hovering over you like he’s afraid to lay his full weight down, afraid to lose himself in you completely.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of. What I’ve done.”

Your fingers skim his jaw, tilting his face toward yours.

“I know you. The rest doesn’t matter.”

That stops him cold.

You should be afraid. You should run.

Hell, he wants you to. It would make this easier.

But you don’t. And you won’t.

“Let me have you,” you whisper, voice shaky but sure.

His breath stutters.

His eyes—those impossibly blue, piercing eyes—search yours, looking for hesitation, for uncertainty.

But there’s none.

“Please stop…” he exhales, shaking his head like he’s still trying to fight it.

“You won’t hurt me,” you say, firmer now, fingers tightening in his hair.

A low, pained groan rumbles in his throat.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, his grip on you ironclad as he breathes through the chaos in his mind.

Then—finally—he lets go.

He kisses you slow, deep, like he’s surrendering to something greater than himself.

His hands map out your body, skimming your waist, your thighs, treating you like something precious, something he’s never deserved.

And for the first time in his life… he’s careful.

His lips linger on yours, moving with aching slowness, memorizing the taste of you.

His touch softens, no longer gripping, no longer taking.

Because this isn’t about him.

It’s about you.

His forehead presses to yours again as he exhales, trying to settle the wildfire raging inside him.

He should be the one in control—he always is.

But now? You’re the one keeping him steady.

Your fingers skim up his back, tracing the hard lines of muscle. “I trust you,” you whisper.

“I promise.”

His hands still. His breathing stops. He wants to say you shouldn’t. He wants to say he doesn’t deserve it.

But he can’t.

Because he needs to believe you.

His lips brush against your temple, his hands skimming lower, resting on your thighs. He spreads them slowly, carefully, settling between them.

“Tell me you still want this,” he murmurs, voice rough, unsteady.

You nod, but he shakes his head. “No. Say it. Tell me.”

“I want this,” you breathe, cheeks flushed.

“I want you.”

His restraint nearly snaps in half.

A strangled groan escapes his throat, his fingers digging into the sheets instead of your skin. He drops his forehead to your stomach, inhaling sharply before pressing a lingering kiss there.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.”

Homelander drags his lips back up your body, trailing slow, soft kisses along your skin.

Taking his time.

Worshipping you.

Letting this be more than just a claim.

His hands frame your face again, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks as he leans in.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod, exhaling shakily as he positions himself at your entrance, teasing, just barely pushing inside.

Your body tenses instinctively, nerves curling tight in your stomach.

But instead of pushing further, he stops. Waits.

His lips ghost over yours. “Relax,” he whispers, voice warm, steady. “I’ve got you, baby.”

You let out a slow breath, willing your body to trust him the way your heart somehow does.

And when he feels you loosen beneath him, he pushes in just a little more, watching your face, searching for any flicker of discomfort.

The stretch is overwhelming.

The heat. The way he’s everywhere all at once.

He stills, barely halfway in.

“So fucking tight,” he breathes, gripping the sheets beside your head.

You shift slightly, adjusting, and a strangled moan leaves his throat.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you still.

“Don’t move,” he grits out.

You bite your lip, looking up at him. His pupils are blown wide, his expression wrecked, desperate.

You lift a hand to his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek, grounding him.

“It’s okay. Go deeper,” you whisper.

His breath shudders.

And then, with one slow, deliberate motion, he finally pushes in completely.

A gasp rips from your lips, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, your body stretching to take him.

He stills again, pressing kisses to your throat.

“Are you okay?” His voice tight, strained.

You nod, swallowing hard as you breathe through the sensation, letting yourself adjust.

Then, after a moment, you shift—a silent invitation.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You were made for me.”

And then, slowly, carefully, he starts to move.

And for the first time in his life, he doesn’t take.

He gives.

His movements are slow at first—achingly slow—like he’s still holding onto the last thread of his control, afraid to push too hard, afraid to lose himself completely in the heat of you.

His hands grip your hips, not to claim, not to take. To anchor himself, to keep from unraveling.

He watches your face, his eyes searching—always searching—for any flicker of discomfort.

But all he sees is you.

Lips parted, cheeks flushed. Your breath coming in soft, uneven pants.

And fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, his voice still strained, wrecked. “I don’t deserve this.”

You whimper softly, shifting beneath him, testing the way he fits. The way your body stretches around him.

The sensation is foreign, it’s intense. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

It aches, but not in a way that makes you want to stop. If anything, it makes you want more.

Your appetite for him is overwhelming.

You reach up, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. “You can go harder baby,” you whisper, breathless. “Just take me. Please?”

His body shudders against yours, and for a moment, he just looks at you—like he’s trying to burn this into his memory.

Like he knows he’ll never feel anything as real as this again.

He prays to God he doesn’t mess it up.

His hips roll forward, slow but deep, pushing in just a little further, dragging a soft, breathy moan from your lips.

He groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he starts to move, a steady rhythm that sends warmth curling deep in your stomach.

“My princess,” he breathes, dropping his head to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re so—so wet for daddy.”

Your fingers dig into his back, nails dragging over the hard lines of muscle as you arch into him, inviting him deeper. He obliges, sinking into you fully, groaning at the way you squeeze around him.

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmurs, lips on your throat, breathing you in.

“Didn’t think I’d be able to do this—be gentle—but fuck—”

He cuts himself off with another roll of his hips, just enough to make you gasp.

You grip his shoulders, gasping softly, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him, the way he stretches you open, fills you completely.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he rasps, his voice edged with restraint, but there’s something else beneath it—something almost soft. Something loving.

You nod, swallowing hard, your chest heaving.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I—I just… I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

His lips curl into something like a smirk, but there’s no arrogance behind it, only warmth.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, rolling his hips again, slower this time, dragging out the friction. “How does it feel, baby?”

You don’t have the words. All you can do is whimper, gasping as pleasure starts to curl through you.

His smirk falters, his breath catching at the sound.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, but he’s barely holding on.

“Look at you—taking me so fucking perfectly. Such a good girl, waiting for me for so long.”

You shudder, back arching, heat coiling tight in your stomach.

You don’t know if it’s his words or the way he’s moving inside you, but it’s building, growing stronge. A pleasure so intense you don’t know what to do with it.

He feels it. Sees it.

The way your body trembles beneath him, the way your fingers tighten in his hair.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice low, coaxing. “Let me feel it. Cum for me baby.”

The pleasure crashes over you like a wave, white-hot and blinding.

You cry out, clutching at him as your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper, drowning him into you.

He groans, burying his face in your neck, his rhythm faltering as he chases his own release.

His hips snap forward, thrusts turning erratic, desperate, until finally, with a rough, shuddering breath, he breaks.

His body goes taut as he spills into you. He holds you even tighter, as if letting go would shatter him completely.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then, slowly, he lifts his head. His fingers tracing lazy circles your stomach.

His eyes find yours, something unreadable flickering in their depths. He swallows hard, his jaw tightening.

“Perfection,” he murmurs, taking in every last detail of you.

You smile sleepily, still dazed.

His lips press against yours, grounding himself in the feeling of you.

He had always seen himself as a god—the god.

But there had to be something greater.

Because somehow, fate, destiny, or whatever cruel force ruled this world had brought you to him.

*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:* ˚₊· *:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧✧・ﾟ:

[mottysith]

"Oh tear my heart out, tear my heart out"

Fourth Chapter

Song inspired title: She Walks On Me by Hole

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Platonic!All x Teen!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You went traveling as a way to relieve stress, living experiences you retrieved yourself from, Including the past.

Warnings: a little of angst

(If I miss anything tell me)

Sorry for bad english, it isn't my natal language.

Word count: 3,6 k

The start of your journey wasn't as simple as you wanted it to be. Of course, you were fully aware that not training for a few months would tear your stamina but you weren't expecting this.

You had to currently take breaks, which you didn't mind. Sitting on the ground to catch your breath as you watched the scenery in front of you, It was... oddly refreshing.

You were on your way to the Hollyberry Kingdom, but in the meanwhile everytime the night came you stayed in a small town you found, enjoining exploring the small yet different things that each one provided.

Each day was different, different stories, escenery, even the sky was different with the clouds forming unique shapes and forms every time. The countless times you took a long break just to memorize each one, and forget them the next day.

The nights where you had to do a improvised camp you just looked at the stars in the night sky, wondering which one of those was your sister.

After a few days of exploring you finally reached the place, the grand Hollyberry kingdom, getting close to the entrance was as stressful as exciting for you, watching how the bright colours of the place started to iluminate your eyes, pinkish walls with so much life and history in them. It made you all excited to see that once more.

Looking around the place, you opted to go looking for all the stuff in the grandberry market. That place is absolutely full of variety with all kinds of berry juice, fruits and flowers! You absolutely can't miss that just to have a boring talk with Royal Berry Cookie.

Entering the maritime landmark you started to snoop around, looking around the shop and enjoining everything about it, every walk just showed how vivis the kingdom's culture is, vivid and vibrant as the surroundings wild.

The arquitecture was extremely beautiful, the walls of a small dress shop had a pie frame, tightly woven together into a sturdy yet aesthetically impressive lattice, is layered with colored jam. To protect the houses from dragonfire, an extra overlay of dense tart is topped with thick jam, again forming an interwoven lattice. From such techniques is born a style of architecture fusing both form and function, aesthetics and endurance. Traditionally, the more luxurious abodes are decorated with an extra flair of frozen berries and vines.

And if that was only a small shop, you could only get hypnoticed by bigger buildings.

You also of course didn't even missed the oportunity to dip your dough in a berry juice bath, the fruit punches feeling warm around your skin, softening your weary limbs due to traveling a lot. It was a experience of utmost pleasure, being extremely relaxed like if it was a spa.

Leaving was hard, but you had to continue looking through the thousand markets in the Grandberry market, buying a few berries that looked expecially tasty.

The air was filled with romance, while music thrived in the place.you have heard that the only thing that is required of you in the Hollyberry Kingdom is to dance, dine, and be merry but seeing everybody so happy made your dough fill with joy and the want of dance. Considering your experience from just a few hours it is only natural that the greatest bards and poets of Crispia have traced their roots to this place, it is truly amazing.

Some festivals were held in the distance, the sound of noise and music reaching out just enough to be heard by you, letting yourself fall into the spell of music.

After hours of looking and looking around the shops you eventually got tired, the stupid Dragon plushie you bought was being nothing but a nuisance to carry around.

It was getting later too, thankfully you had earlier in the day rented a small place to spend the night.

Looking around the kingdom at night, you saw the Royal palace absolutely crowded, it was true. From what you remember in your childhood dreams there was a royal ball every single noght yet you didn't believe it was still happening now.

Getting close to the building the palace was astonishing. Having a great dome made of flowers and fruit and it's spectacular lush garden, looking at it made you almost get in a trance by how mesmerizing it was.

You were looking trough the window, the people inside were all dancing and singing, being happy. You couldn't help but get a little smile plastered on your face.

Starting to humm the sound that came from inside the palace, a voice called out to you. "Reader Cheese Cookie?" You turned to see who said that, not recognizing the sound in a instant.

The person you saw was Royal berry cookie, who was holding a glass of berry juice in his hand, you turned your body to face him. "Your majesty!" You exclaimed quickly, looking at him with the utmost respect. "No need for formalities! Is just that I wasn't expecting you" He laughed calmly, the air of the night making his clothes flow a little.

"Don't you want to get inside? It's getting cold out here. And the royal ball has just started" Royal berry invited you in, you started to mentally panic.

"I am a little sleepy right now! And I don't think I fit the etiquette right now" You excused yourself, ready to go to the flat you rented for the night. "Yet if you want to met to talk, we could tomorrow morning, I-I am leaving a little before lunch time!" You stummered a bit, telling the plans you had for the next day.

Royal berry laughed softly "We will be waiting you then, Jungleberry would love to see you once more" he let you be, you quickly gave him your goodbyes before leaving for the flat you rented.

The walk home was cold, the cranberry forest being easily seen at the distance. After a few minutes of walking around you finally found the place, gently opening the door and entering the flat. It was quite modest, a small kitchen with a table for two, a bathroom and a bedroom for one. You were too tired to care about that anyway, plumping yourself right into the bed as soon as you saw it, quickly dozzing off due to how tired you got.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The day after you went to visit the older cookie, taking his invitation to see him and his family kindly, after all you somewhat knew eachother.

Entering the palace felt weird, even if you were there thousands of times in the past. A figure quickly went to welcome you, her voice being instantly recognized by you.

"Reader Cheese Cookie! It's been so long since we last have seen you!" Jungleberry cookie mentioned to you, holding your hands to welcome you.

"The last time I saw you was at your wedding with Royal berry cookie, you looked so beautiful!" You softly shaked the hand she gave you. She just laughed at your words, taking well the compliment you gave her.

"Royal berry made the chefs prepare the lunch earlier than usual so you could accompany us" she explained softly, leading you into the dining room "He was really happy to see you, we both know you haven't been doing the best after the dark flour war" as she said that you stayed quiet, biting your bottom lip to try to make your mind not wander off to unwanted places.

The table was absolutely full of diferent food dishes, most of them containing berries. The table also was extremely well decorated with the tablecloth being of extremely well quality and having multiple decorations it.

Sitting down you were beside a younger cookie, she has pink hair. "I don't believe I introduced you to my daughter" Royal berry noted, the younger cookie looking at you with confusion. "Reader Cheese Cookie, she is Princess Cookie."

"An honour" Princess cookie said not so convinced, mostly because she didn't know you until now, being completely unaware of who you are. "You are the granddaughter of the big Hollyberry Cookie! It's my honour to meet you!" You quickly explained, flashing her a warm smile.

Royal berry did a conversation starter "Well, how haves been Golden Cheese Cookie doing? Nobody has heard from you or her ever since the dark flour war happened"

"Oh, well, it haves been fine. Golden Cheese Cookie is taking it hard but I am trying to help her as best as I can myself" you explained it to them, leaving a lot of information out to not ruin the mood.

"Why are you helping Golden Cheese Cookie? Are you her knight or something?" Princess Cookie asked you with genuine curiosity, you had the obligation to answer "Well, I am her offspring" you answered gently.

"Weren't there two? Or had an entire kingdom to look after instead of being here?" Your troath closened for a moment when she asked that, but she was a child full of curiosity as you once used to be, you weren't going to ruin this moment just for that.

You forced yourself to answer withouth stummering or chocking a tear "Yes... my sister and the Golden Cheese Kingdom." You took a breath "The dark flour war hit us really hard" was all the explanation you did, not going into much detail though her parents completely understood everything in silence.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You spent the next few minutes having lunch with them before leaving, the food was pretty tasty and full of the kingdom's own cuisine, you had a little of a stomach ache with how much you ate.

Jungleberry Cookie is very funny, managing to keep the mood up at all times even when things got rocky, you were relieved by that.

After finishing lunch they personally excorted you to the outsides of the Hollyberry kingdom, wishing you a good travel, you smiled gently at them while waving your goodbyes before dissapearing in the nature.

The next thing in your map was the Dark Cacao kingdom, you were already fantazising about all the things you would do with Dark Choco Cookie, after all he was your best friend!

A lot of exploring and walking after and you found yourself being able to see the kingdom from afar, the slopes of the giant icing ridge almost made you fall multiple times, it being covered of very thick wood of frozen icing.

But after a while you finally managed to enter the kingdom, it was hard due to the quantity of predatory animals that surrounded the place such as the Cacao eagle or the Dire Creamwolf. Though luckily you dodged them quickly and when you finally entered the kingdom the great chocolate wall kept you safe once more.

Entering the kingdom you were found with it's distinguished architecture, its roof-supporting cylindrical columns topped with massive chocolate capitals. For wind protection, walls are often covered with chocolate panels with several layers of thick cream between them. Dark Cacao architects often address the motif of life and death by or interweaving black and white elements. Altars and shrines fashioned out of chocolate to commemorate the fallen can be found throughout the Kingdom.

You admired it from afar, having someone to visit in mind, Dark choco cookie, you guessed that Dark Cacao Cookie would know his whereabouts so you searched for the ancient first, walking fastly around the whole kingdom in search of him.

Out of breath and about to take a break you found him calmly taking a stroll around the kingdom, his sharp glaze examining everything it landed on, including you when he realized of your presence

"Reader Cheese Cookie?" He said your name in confussion, clearly not expecting to see you. You smiled awkwardly "Yes?"

After a quick explaining that you where exploring various kingdoms on your own he invited you over to drink some tea like old times, which you gladly accepted.

You entered the castle alongside Dark cacao cookie, looking for a familiar face you have been missing for soo long. "What are you looking for?" He asked out of the blue, making you directly look at him

"What do you mean?" Your attention was fully on the ancient cookie now "You are looking all over the place, like if searching for something" He noted

"Oh, it's nothing. I am just looking for Dark Choco after all" you laughed eagerly, your voice showing excitement. Dark Cacao went dead silent as you mentioned his name, his eyes starting to show nostalgia.

"Dark Choco Cookie isn't here now" He quickly explained, not willing to look at your face who was now full of confusion and questions. "Not... here?"

"He was the cause of the fall of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, he dissapeared quickly after" your heart broke as you heard that, your best friend since childhood truly did that?

You slowly walked away while mumbling "I need some time... alone" making clear the alone part.

The place you quickly ran after was to the garden, the smell of flowers filling your nostrils as the sky above you seemed more colourless than usual. You sat down on a bench there, looking as how the wind gently danced around the flowers as your sorrows started to get to you.

Dark Choco would never do that, not willfully at least. You knew him very well. Dark choco is a very charitable cookie and highly concerned with the welfare of others, protecting those in need. He would never hurt them, he couldn't...

"What is this heavy ache I feel in my chest? Why is this soo painful?" You said to no one in particular while holding tightly your chest as if that would fix anything.

You started crying, the tears starting to wet your clothing as they fell. You knew his dreams, though naive, meant a lot to him. Wanting to follow in his father's footsteps by becoming a hero and savior of his kingdom.

"He didn't..." you whispered quietly into the air, your vision quickly becoming less focused. It was only a question of time until you just started to stare at the void, your mind completely devoid of thinking, the tears already dried out.

A figure you knew well sat beside you in the bench, Dark Cacao seemed hesitant on what to say to you, after all you were having a emotional turmoil with the news of Dark Choco Cookie.

"I brought you some tea" Dark Cacao started with, giving you a warm cup of tea, you only holded it in your hands, not taking a single sip. He noticed that "I know you miss him, he was your best friend after all" he said, trying to sympatize with you.

"He couldn't have done that, he isn't the type to... do that" you tried to find a reason of why he would have, yet you couldn't "But he did, and he went to his own path" his answer gave you bittersweet emotions.

You took a sip of the tea, taking your time with finishing it as the two of you watched in a comfortable silence the scenenary in front of you.

"Thanks for comforting me, but it's time for me to continue my journey" You quietly thanked him, getting up from the bench as you grabbed your bag the second the cup of tea emptied.

"I though you wanted to explore the kingdom" he mentioned, recolecting the memories from before he told you the news of his son "not alone" your answer quickly shut him down.

He seemed hesitant to let you go in that state, yet you seemed too comfident to let down "I understand, have a good journey" he gave you his blessing, you simply smiled at it "thanks"

You quickly left after that, not staying for too long on the kingdom. That place was full of unwanted memories you were yet to unravel and weren't prepared for, having to fight another war mentally after just finishing one is exhausting and you weren't willing to do that now, nit just after finally accepting that the Golden Cheese Kingdom is dead for good.

The bittersweet flavour of grief in your mouth didn't leave nor the ache in your heart though as you went searching for your next destination you slowly came in terms with it, accepting it as true as the pain flowed into the air, finally giving you a well deserved break.

The next and final thing you wanted to do was to visit White Lily Cookie, who was supposedly in the faerie kingdom. You took out the letter that she sent you so you could go and visit her out of your pocket, gently reading it as if being rough would make it crumble.

"The faerie kingdom is located in Faeriewood, a major region in the northwest corner of Beast-Yeast. It sits at the beginning of the River of First Silver and southwest of the Silver Mountain.

The faerie citizens aren't too fond of outsiders, if you encounter one just say you are on my side and you will be fine.

I will be waiting for you! - White Lily Cookie"

You followed the intructions on the letters as precise as you could, entering a place named beast-yeast just like she told you where she lived, from the maps you saw it was a dangerous place, yet you didn't mind it that much since from what the indication on the last letter White lily sent you the Faerie kingdom was somewhere around here.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A sound of a bell tinged in the air, catching your attention from where it originated from, seeing a cookie which had silver wings and a bow that was pointed directly at you... what?

"Outlander!" He screamed at you in a tone that showed every emotion but friendliness

"How did you find this place? What business do you have in Faeriwood?"

"Oh, well, I am just searching for a friend" You explained quickly, trying to not make things worse considering how mad the cookie in front of you looked. "Who are you looking for?" The cookie asked

"I am looking for White Lily Cookie, she told me of this place" when you answered his question he seemed sceptical. "I have heard that White Lily Cookie was waiting for someone, are you Reader Cheese Cookie?"

"Yes, that's my name" His form relaxed, the bow wasn't being pointed at you anymore, making yourself relax too.

"Well, if that's so then follow me"

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The silver winged cookie lead you inside the faerie kingdom, which was very magical to see, giant silverware presumably, remnants left behind by the Witches. Cookie-sized forks, teaspoons, and teacup handles are utilized in the kingdom, from furniture to building foundations, by smoothing down any sharp edges. Structures built using this silverware never lose their shine, but nobody knows what magic it holds to withstand the passage of time. Looking at it from afar was the only thing you could afford to do at the moment though.

During the walk the Silver winged Cookie told you his name, Silverbell Cookie, you only complimented it just to be nice.

He also mentioned that he was leading you to the Elder Faerie since he knew where White Lily Cookie was at the moment.

At first moment when you approached the guardian he seemed hesitant, though he recognized you as the daughter of Golden Cheese Cookie, and therefore White Lily's friend.

Elder Faerie cookie lead you to where white lily cookie was while talking a little about the Faerie Kingdom, just so you aren't completely blind to where he was leading you to.

After a bit of walking he stopped on his tracks, "Your friend is inside here" He stated before letting you go, though his gaze lingered on you a little more than it should, like if he had a question about you.

Though you ignored it, trying to find where your friend was with your eyes and there she was! Sitting in a bench she was looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair shining soo slightly in the faint sunlight that entered the place. She seemed to be humming something but you couldn't quite hear what it was.

And you couldn't resist yourself but to go to hug her, after all you missed her very much, haven't seeing eachother even before the Dark Flour war.

You ran towards her form, exclaiming her name with sheer exitement when you finally hugged her from behind, surprising her, the ancient inmediatle recognized you, hugging your form back very gently, as if not deserved of ever thinking of doing so.

"Reader Cheese Cookie! I am so glad to see you once more! When you wrote to me in a letter that you will be visiting, I was over the moon" White lily cookie mentioned to you, with a faint yet genuine smile on her face.

You smiled wider than her, yet something wasn't quite right, You felt watched. Looking from where it could came that feeling your attention was caught by a very big silver tree, it was strangely enchanted to the watch, yet at the same time the air whispered trouble around it.

"That tree... what is it?" You asked, wondering about what that feeling could be originated from. "Oh, That is the silver tree, I was just keeping an watch over it" she gently explained to you.

You gulped a little as you felt the feeling of being watched intensified, though with White Lily on your side you left the feeling at just being paranoid, right?

Notes: This was very lazy, I want to finish this idea but I am getting tired of writing it. I mostly wrote this to show that I am NOT dead okay 💔 i know it is short for what I usually do, but give me time. Also I posted this at 1 am so there is probably an extremely horrendous error I didn't saw.

Due to plot reasons I changed some canon things, Hope you don't mind that much.

I ignored writing for the cream republic, but it wasn't going to be important anyway so don't worry about it.

I am also going to take a longer break from writing since exam week is coming up and I am scared.

Comments, likes, reposts and reconstructive criticism are highly appreciated! And this time if you have any ideas of how to continue this I will gladly take those.

Tag list: @masterradd-28 , @chidouna , @nayykura , @otterluver05 , @queenskippy , @justarandomspanishspeaker , @st4rrynighttt , @alilcherrysramblings , @toasttew , @randomfoxsworld , @shinning-stars

Tell me in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list

[widowbitessting]

Imagine...💬📱 ~ nsfw...18+ ~

Words: 1587

Pairing: Dom!Natasha Romanoff x Sub!Reader

💋💋💋

You wake up in your apartment at the ass crack of dawn and automatically reach for your cell to see if the Trio! have messaged.

Much to your luck - and because they're so infatuated with you, with added different time zones - they have.

Wanda is rambling about how different the water tastes where she is.

Carol is complaining about her bed being too uncomfortable.

Natasha is currently complaining about not being able to sleep, despite it being midnight where she is.

Her typing bubble stops when she sees you replying to her.

Natty: Dare I ask why you're up, little one?

Y/N: I gotta pee...dare I ask why you're up...little one?

Natty: Wow someone's woken up and chosen violence, huh?

Y/N: You just bring out my inner brat, what can I say?

Natty: You're lucky I'm thousands of miles away, little girl. Or I'd have my hand around your throat so fucking fast.

Y/N: What a shame you can't, eh? What. A. Shame.

Natty: You really have woken up in a mood.

Natty: And to answer your question, my little thing, Daddy can't sleep. I miss my girl too much.

The bratty reply you would have typed out would be instantly deleted.

Y/N: Oh...

Y/N: I miss you too. So much.

Y/N: Plus the fact you're all in different hotels is stupid. You run the company! You're the bosses...make them give you the same room in the same stupid hotel. God.

Natty: Still grumpy about that baby girl?

Y/N: Yeah!

Natty: Even though we’re all based in different cities?

Y/N: …well yeah surely there’s a hotel that’s in the vicinity of all the places you gotta go for your job…

Natty: Baby girl; Wanda and Carol are about two hours from me.

Y/N: Well that’s just stupid.

Natty: That’s just our work, baby girl. Sometimes it means being apart from each other.

Y/N: I still don’t fully understand what your job is…

Natty: I’ll explain when we’re back sweetheart. You should get some more sleep.

Y/N: But…

Natty: No buts. No excuses. Sleep.

Y/N: Technically you should get some sleep too…

Natty: I will eventually. I’m just not tired enough just yet.

Y/N: If I was there I could tire you out plenty.

Natty: Oh is that so, baby girl? How would you plan on doing that?

Of course you're a blushing mess by this point.

Y/N: I...doing stuff. Stuffy stuff, y'know?

Natty: What sort of stuff? I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, baby.

Y/N: Yes you do.

Natty: I'm afraid I don't, what sort of stuff? Sleep? Cuddle?

Y/N:...sex stuff...

Natty: There it is. Look at that, good girl. That wasn't so hard now was it, hmm?

Y/N: ...yes

Natty: What sort of sexual things, baby? Enlighten daddy.

Y/N: Depends on if you're packing or not...

Yep, you are 100% the same colour as Natasha's hair.

Natty: What if I am?

You beg your brain to function.

Y/N: Well...I'd crawl over to you

Natty: I do like it when you crawl.

Y/N: I know you do...I'd crawl over to you in the bed and pull the covers down.

Natty: Go on.

Y/N: And I'd settle my body on top of yours and kiss you

Natty: I do miss your lips...

Y/N: And as we kiss, I'd grind my hips down onto your...um...

Natty: Say it baby. Say the word for daddy.

Y/N: ...cock...

Natty: God you're so good for me, my sweet little play thing. I bet you're blushing so much right now.

Y/N: Maybe...😳

Y/N: Do - do I carry on?

Natty: Yes please baby. Only if you want to, of course.

"Oh you have no idea."

Natty: I think you should go from grinding baby.

Y/N: Okay...so I'd grind my hips down onto your...your cock...and I'd um...

Natty is Calling

Your heart all but stops in your chest but you're quick to answer her call.

"Hello...?"

"Hi baby. You wanna grind on my dick hmm?"

You can't help but let out a very loud laugh as your shyness washes over you.

"Oh my sweet little fuck toy. Daddy asked you a question, hmm?"

"I, um - what?"

"Do you, or do you not, my perfect little cock sleeve, want to grind on my dick?"

"...yes..."

"Yes what, baby girl?"

"Daddy."

You can feel Natasha's smirk and it does nothing to calm your burning face.

"And now in a full sentence."

"Yes....daddy, I do."

"Oh such a good girl." She says. "Let your hands wander for me, sweet thing. Trail your fingers over your breasts..."

Sticking Natasha on speakerphone, you put your cell on the pillow besides your head and quickly do as you're told; lifting your shirt to reveal your chest to the slightly chilled temperature of your bedroom.

You tentatively drag your fingers up the swell of your breasts, breath hitching when they graze your pert nipples.

"Pinch them, baby girl."

You squirm, clenching around nothing at the sheer sound of Natasha's voice.

"How did you know?" Your own voice is nothing more than a whisper.

"I know you. Pinch them."

You pinch your right nipple slightly too hard and a moan louder than you anticipated escapes past your lips.

Heart hammering in your chest, your eyes fly to your bedroom door, begging MJ to not come bursting through.

"Keep going, baby."

You do so again, this time trying your best to keep quiet as best you can but Natasha isn't having any of it.

"Don't you dare hold back; I want to hear every single moan you make."

"But MJ-"

"Let daddy hear those moans, baby girl, you're making me so fucking wet." Natasha lets out her own moan and you almost combust. "Touch your clit."

Your fingers wander under your waistband and glide over the area that has your breath hitching.

"There you go baby. Press down on it."

"Mhm."

"I bet you're soaking already baby."

"I can feel it on my thighs..." You let out a sigh.

"You're my needy little whore aren't you?"

"Yes daddy." Your eyes roll when you press down on your clit again, pleasure shooting through your veins. "Fuck I wish you were here, I need you."

"Want to know what I'd do baby? How I'd make you cum?" Natasha's voice sends waves of heat into you. You clench again, hips rolling against nothing. "Rub it, gorgeous girl. Just how you like it but nice and slow. Don't get too excited for daddy."

You use two damp fingers, pressing firmly against the nub that has you moaning again.

"Oh fuck!"

"I'd use my tongue, baby girl." Natasha purrs, "I'd swirl it around that gorgeous clit of yours and suck it into my mouth..."

"Yes..."

Natasha moans and fuck does that sound make your toes curl.

"I'd slurp everything you have to give me into my mouth and swallow it; baby, you have no idea how much we love the way you taste."

Your hands are shaking, wanting nothing more than to move your fingers faster, to get to that sweet peak sooner, but you're an obedient girl.

You do as you're told.

"And when I know you're desperate for my fingers, I'd push two of them into you -" Her voice is trembling, "and finger you so roughly I'd have you screaming in seconds."

That nearly has you falling apart.

"Finger yourself."

You do not have to be told twice, your own fingers sliding into yourself easily.

You hear Natasha moan.

"Get yourself off baby, imagine they're my fingers pounding into you and cum." She's breathless, working herself up to her own release at the same time you do.

You're quick to set a rhythm that your body loves, rubbing your clit whilst your fingers curl inside of you, moving them faster and faster until you can hear a squelching between your legs.

"Cum now, with me, or don't cum at all."

"Y-y-yes, oh fuck, daddy!"

"Daddy's cumming baby, oh yes, yes!"

Natasha falls apart first, her cry of ecstasy going slightly robotic due to the phone connection; but it doesn't stop you from cumming right behind her, a cry bubbling out of your throat as your orgasm floods through you.

You press down firmly on your clit, eliciting more pleasure until you physically can't take anymore and your body jerks with oversensitivity.

Removing your hands, you lie in your bed panting, a large smile on your face.

"I needed that."

"So did I, little one. Daddy has been very tense. Thank you for that." Natasha replies, "drink some water."

You do as you're told, wiping your fingers on the towel strew across your bedroom floor before picking up the bottle of water and taking 6 deep gulps.

You rub your eyes as you settle back into bed, nestling close to your phone as if it could somehow get you closer to Natasha.

You hear her yawn.

"Are you okay, baby girl?" she asks.

"I am, daddy. Are you?"

"Yes sweetie. Are you tired?"

"...little bit..." Your eyes are heavy, sleep once again calling your name.

"Close those eyes, baby, and let's meet in our dreams okay?" Her voice is no more than a whisper, Natasha too on the verge of sleep.

"...in our dreams, daddy..."

You sleep soundly with Natasha still on call, happy and content.

💋💋💋

[twirlyleafs]

Hi lovely, I hope you’re doing good🥰 I have an F1 idea (any driver) for some inspo. What about being teammates with said driver and you don’t turn up on media day. Your phone is off and it’s like you’ve fallen on the face of the earth and they are losing their minds but eventually hunt you down and find you spiralling about quali or the race

“Thank you”

Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

A/N: first request!! love!! thank you xxx

~~~~

“Thank you.”

Charles forced a smile as he accepted a steaming cup of coffee, still entirely too tired to even function. He never got used to the early mornings on media days, especially not in gloomy, grey and cold England. Sinking down in his chair in the makeshift conferenceroom he pushed his chin down, trying to crawl deeper into his own sweater. With a first sip of the coffee he let out a soft breath before glancing across the table, scanning all the faces. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was looking for one in particular. A small pout formed on his face when he couldn’t find you. Normally you would’ve been here way before him, already on your second or third cup by the time he trudged into the room. Charles didn’t particularly like to talk to people in the morning but you were the exception, your cheerful demeanor somehow bringing him out of his shell.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, glancing over at Fred who in turn looked over at his assistant. She shook her head, a stressed frown on her face.

“We don’t know, she’s not here. I’ve tried her phone several times.” People around the table started murmuring as they too seemed to realize your absence. Charles frowned, somewhat offended that it hadn’t been the first thing on their mind like it was his. He listened to debates about why you were late, most betting that you just simply overslept, but for some reason he had a bad feeling. You’d never been late and he knew for a fact that you didn’t set your phone to silent while you slept, scared you’d miss something, so several calls from Fred’s assistant should’ve woken you up in that case.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually. We’ll keep trying her.” Fred stated before going into today’s schedule. They talked about all the things they had planned on having you do, since this was your home race after all, and discussed what to move over to Charles plate instead. Charles barely listened, instead discreetly pulling his phone up under the table to text you. After sending you a few messages, asking where you were, he also texted Daniel whom he knew you were tight with. When his phone dinged a few minutes later he quickly turned it up, somewhat disappointed when it was Daniel who replied and not you. He hadn’t heard from you either. Charles remembered that the two of you started find my phone the last time you went out together with some of the others, a safety measure taken to ensure that no one got lost, and he quickly looked your phone up. The frown on his face deepened. The last time your phone had been online was just a few minutes ago, so obviously you were awake. Why didn’t you answer? On the bright side it seemed to be in your apartment in Oxford and the idea of driving out there silently grew on him.

“Charles?” His gaze snapped up, cheeks heating up slightly when he noticed the room almost empty. Fred’s assistant stared questioning at him from across the table.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Whats going on today? Y/Ns not here and you’re spending the entire meeting on your phone? I didn’t think I had to deal with this kind of stuff with you two.”

“M’sorry.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, sitting up a bit straighter in the chair. “I was trying to reach her.”

“And?”

Charles shook his head. For the following hours he had trouble focusing on the tasks at hand, mind occupied with the thought of you. He pushed through the interviews, finding Daniel when he had a short break to once again ask if he’d seen or heard from you. To be honest he wanted him to say no. The thought of you responding to Daniel and not him had his jaw clenching in annoyance.

“I haven’t talked to her mate.” Daniel shook his head, checking his phone just in case, before looking at his friend. Charles was pacing, which Daniel found very out of the ordinary for the usually so calm and collected man. He watched him for a few seconds, walking back and forth with his hands on his hips, until he couldn’t take it any longer. “Maybe you should go to her house? You’ve been there before, right?”

Charles stopped, gaze snapping up to look at Daniel. Dan stared back at him with an expectant look on his face, almost surprised that Charles hadn’t already left to go find you. “Yeah, sure. But I can’t just show up at her home.” The Aussie rolled his eyes, letting out a huff.

“Just go Chuck.” Charles didn’t have to be told twice and the second he could get out of media he practically sprinted to his car. He typed in the address of your Oxford home in the car, frequently checking his phone as he drove in case you answered. When he rolled to a stop next to your car you still hadn’t responded to any calls or messages and to say that he was freaking out was an understatement. What could possibly make you not answer your phone for an entire day? Without a second thought Charles knocked on your door, heart beating out of his chest. He knocked again, and again and again, the scenarios in his head getting worse and worse by the second. He was just starting to consider calling the police when he suddenly heard the lock turn, the door being slowly pulled open a second later. Charles could practically feel the anxiety run off him when was able to lay eyes on you, realizing you were at the very least alive. He scanned you quickly, dressed in just a big T-shirt and hair loosely held up by a claw clip.

“Charles?” His gaze shot up to meet yours, frowning slightly at the look of your red and puffy eyes.

“Hey.” He couldn’t think of anything to say, not quite knowing how to approach you.

“What are you doing here?” You were confused to say the least. You had woken up from the sudden banging on your door, having spent last night and the start of this day absolutely panicking. Now Charles was standing outside your house and you were trying to piece together what was happening.

“I came to check on you-“ he paused, tilting his head slightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been freaking out for months about this seasons silverstone race. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten that much and slept badly for the past few days or maybe it was just the fact that it was Charles asking you but the second the words left his lips you felt your bottom lip quiver. Charles eyes widened when he saw the tears start to form in yours, panicking due to the fact that he just made you cry. The moment the first sob left your lips he acted on pure instinct, pulling the door open wider to be able to step closer to you. You let him wrap you up in a tight hug while your arms hung limply to your sides. Charles backed you into the house while you cried against his chest, alarm bells ringing loudly in his head. He managed to close the door before lifting your feet off the ground enough so that he could trudge deeper into the house. Vaguely remembering the way to your living room he was proud to find it on the first try, sinking down in the couch with you still in his arms. His heart broke at the way you curled yourself closer to him, your whole frame shaking with sobs.

“I’m sorry.” He think he heard you get out, frown deepening at the thought of you apologizing. Charles tightened his grip on your, hand smoothing up and down your back in a calming matter as he urged you to breath with him.

“Feel my chest move? Try matching it.” He mumbled, straining his neck to be able to look down at you. Half your face was hidden against his hoodie and he moved a hand to pull some of your hair back to be able to see the other half. Not breaking away from him, not even an inch, you tried your best to follow his instructions. Your hand was splayed over his chest and you tried to match your breathing with the way it rose and fell. “That’s it.” Charles encouraged you softly. Slowly but steadily you began to calm down and for every minute that the panic diminished the realization of what you’d just put Charles through dawned on you. With a final sniff you pulled away from Charles who, without thinking, tried to pull you back. The two of you shared a look before he quickly let go, letting you shuffle far away enough in the couch so you weren’t touching.

“I’m so sorry Charles-“ you began, wiping your cheeks with your palms, but Charles interrupted.

“Don’t. I really don’t mind.” He quickly assured you. When you didn’t answer he shifted slightly towards you, tilting his head. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” It was bold to just ask straight out, he knew that, but something about the way you’d just clung to him like a lifebouy made him feel like he had the right. You let out a soft sigh, pulling your legs up under yourself to make yourself more comfortable.

“I don’t know, I just- this race is fucking with my head.” You muttered, shrugging your shoulders.

“I thought you loved Silverstone? It’s your home race after all?”

“I know!” You groaned, throwing your head back. “I do love Silverstone and I was so excited a week ago but then a few nights ago I had this nightmare and it was so real and since then I’ve just been freaking out and now I can’t even look at my phone without crying and panicking and I cried on you now too and-“

“Y/N.” Charles stopped your blabbering, shuffling closer so he could grab your hand in his. You let your eyes land on his face, feeling yourself slightly relax when they met his green ones. Charles offered a soft smile. “What was the nightmare about?”

“Last year.” You mumbled, voice a lot more quiet than a moment ago. Charles frowned for a second before he realized what you were talking about. Last year. You crashed last year. At silverstone. How could he have forgotten about that?

“The crash?”

You answered with a nod, gaze dropping down to watch how his hand squeezed yours. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know. It spooked me I guess. I’ve crashed many times but that one was different.” Charles remembered it now, he knew it had been bad. He could still recall the smoke covering the whole wreckage and the fact that no matter how hard he looked for you as he slowly passed the crashsite he never found you. It wasn’t until after the race he found out you’d been taken to the hospital for a scan. Luckily everything had looked fine and you came out of it miraculously okay, but looking at you now he could tell it still shook you. “I remembered being brought from the car to the garage before they decided to bring me to the hospital and my mother was watching me and crying and I couldn’t even speak to her. That was probably the worst part, not being able to control anything. I couldn’t move, speak. They say it was the chock. I don’t know.” You trailed of, shrugging your shoulders again. Charles let his thumb run over your knuckles.

“Are you afraid it’s going to happen again?”

“Not really, no.” You realized when you said it that you weren’t nervous for the race. You had improved since last year, that was for sure. The weather was supposed to be better this time too and overall you felt secure. Charles hummed in acknowledgment and things went quiet for a while. You felt yourself actually start to think about it for the first time. The past few days you hadn’t been thinking, you’d been panicking. Apparently all it took was Charles presence to have you calm down enough to realize the difference.

“Do you want to skip it? You can always play sick and have Bearman drive.”

“No. I wanna do it. I’d never skip a race.” You were determined, looking up at Charles again. He raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. Now he started to recognize you.

“Are you sure?” The teasing voice was one you were familiar with, one you loved. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, nodding quickly. The sound made Charles heart flutter.

“I’m positive.”

The two of you fell into your normal jargon after that and Charles told you everything you’d missed during media. You noted that he never let go of your hand and that every time you laughed he’d squeezed it slightly. You didn’t mind. After a while Charles offered to make dinner and despite you telling him you had nothing in your fridge he got started. You were impressed with what he managed to whip up using close to nothing. You were in awe of how Charles had managed to completely turn you around in less than a few hours and you were incredibly grateful that he’d taken time out of his day to actually drive out and check up on you. Honestly, the thought made your stomach flutter.

Eventually Charles had to leave, the sun was far gone and both of you had an early morning tomorrow, and you watched him shrug on his jacket in the foyer. He had you promise him to call if anything were bothering you and you gave him your word. He’d be the first to know. Charles watched you for a moment before nodding, a satisfied smile on his face.

“I’ll see you first thing in the morning then?”

“Yep, unless I get murdered for missing media day.” You mused, making Charles chuckle. You leaned against the wall, eyes following Charles check his pockets for his keys before turning towards the door. “Charles?” He paused for a second, hand on the door handle. Charles savored the way his name sounded coming from your lips. Your voice was soft, like silk, and he almost longed to hear it again.

“Hmm?” Charles just had time to turn back around to face you when you basically threw yourself at him. He stumbled at the impact, quickly regaining himself as you slung your arms over his shoulders. It took a moment of comprehension before he wrapped his own arms around you, holding you against his chest. Maybe he took it too far when he pressed his nose against the top of your head, but you didn’t say anything and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Thank you.”

[christnarr]

victor madness combat masterpost

everything we know about victor, a co-op exclusive project nexus character

theres a lot of things people dont know about them!! like their connection with the maker, how they interact with the audience, etc. however this information is intentionally kept obscure for narrative reasons (ill explain later) so its understandable if you didnt know about this

full post under the cut since its long ==v

SECTION 1: BURGER GILS

the first appearance of victor was on the official burger gils website, under the "updates" section

the first news update, #207, says that rich (a character we see in "power play") is no longer the employee of the month, thus giving the title to victor.

the next prominent update is #209, which states victor has mysteriously gone missing and gil is setting up a hotline for their return.

judging by the next and final update alluding to the fall of nexus city, and that they can "finally open their doors" due to health inspectors being inoperable, we can assume victor went missing beforehand since the restaurant was functioning at the time of the hotline being released.

the reason for their disappearance is still unknown, but that can lead us into the next and more important section:

SECTION 2: THE MAKER (YES, REALLY)

victor, by the laws of the universe, is not meant to exist in nevada. they are an anomaly.

similarly to the maker, they are likely trying to avoid being spotted by the machine or some other "indestructible nightmare".

we learned in a stream that the maker talks to victor, and won't allow their "story" to be told.

"maybe vic, but his story can't be told. the maker won't allow it. that's why the maker talks to vic all the time. he'll never get near the plot."

victor stays as far away from the narrative as possible, choosing to hide as a co-op exclusive character for MPN. krinkels always emphasizes that there's a meta reason for this. even in things like little doodles, victor seems to want to hide from the public eye.

victor reappeared after the city fell, and was found and taken into sq. there is a reason doc wanted victor to join sq, and that doc knows of their importance. however, krinkels wants to keep this part of the story untold too.

SECTION 3: PERSONALITY + ADDITIONAL MATERIAL

not much comments here since ill leave these up to interpretation. heres some dialogue + other things from them that show their personality.

thanks to CondescendingChaos48s self eater dialogue video for providing these :D - mpn devchat clip of wallium doing a victor voice impression - burger gil plushie ad, which victor appears in

-this screenshot

-victor may be the youngest of the main cast

-the burger gil arg, which victor briefly appears in (their involvement is described in the first section)

and thats all! do what you want with this info, i just want to shed light on stuff about victor that isnt as well known

[ssentimentals]

hi! pretty please can i ask for a hurt prompt (1) with dokyeom? 🥹🥹 idk if it's relevant but i'd like to see him being busy and stuff and starts to forget about his s/o (completely pretty irrelevant) but you could also do it on your own way, either way i'd be grateful! thank you so much <3

hi hi my pretty! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone.'

in all honesty, you are surprised that this haven't happened earlier. your patience was wearing thin for almost two months and today it finally snapped. seokmin looks as angry as you do, maybe even angrier and isn't that funny? 'i am working,' he seethes, tone going high like never before. 'so sorry that i can't text you every single minute!'

you laugh hysterically, torn between wanting to run away and throw something at his face. 'have i said that i want that? no! i am saying that for the last two months you acted like i don't exist, seokmin! this is not okay!'

frustrated, your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, messing them up even more. 'i am trying hard for both of us,' he mutters, trembling with fury. 'i am trying for us and instead of being understanding you-'

'understanding?' you interrupt, shouting. 'have i not been understanding when you missed almost every single dinner? when you didn't show up at my events that were important for me? haven't i been supportive with sending you food, encouraging messages, fucking hell, seokkie, i-' you pause, breathing in. your voice trembles, when you spit out: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone. it's like you're not even here when you're with me. it's like- like i don't have a boyfriend, seokmin. and you promised to never make me feel alone.'

previous angry cloud above you two instantly dissapates at those words. seokmin blinks, face morphing from anger to pity and then self-loathing. he watches as you wrap your hands around yourself and his heart breaks; when he is here, how can you do this to yourself? jumping up from his place, he takes you into his arms with determination and gentleness, hugging you tight as you break down into heartbreaking sobs. 'i'm sorry,' he whispers, caressing your back. 'i didn't- i just didn't notice. it wasn't intentional, i promise. i just wanted to get more bonuses before christmas, wanted to spoil you this year and got so into the work that i forgot about anything else. i'm sorry baby, i'm so sorry.'

you forgive him, of course. your heart can't stay mad at seokmin for longer than five seconds; it seems like your heart can function normally when you and seokmin are alright. you hug him back, relishing the warmth and familiar scent, needing this all those two months. 'i just want you,' you mutter into his shoulder. 'i don't care for bonuses.'

'oh, love,' seokmin kisses top of your head, sighing. he feels so foolish now and his mind can't comprehend how did he manage to be so blind. 'you've already got me.'

'you owe me two months of being clingy,' you say, trying to lighten the mood. 'and affectionate. and i want a lot of chocolate.'

seokmin chuckles, thanking god that he sent you his way. 'sure, baby. anything you want. anything.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[scribbledghost]

Inhuman!III Headcanons

Note: i figured I'd start this series off with our favorite Noodle Man (affectionate), because I don't see a lot of x reader stuff for him and that's a shame :(

General:

His primary inhuman ability is metamorphosis. He can change his physical appearance at will.

III tends to keep the same general features (two eyes, normal amount of limbs, etc), but his hair is constantly changing. He's also prone to adjusting the amount of teeth he has, as well as the sharpness of them.

Ever the prankster, he likes to startle the other vessels from time to time with this. More than once he's scared them by elongating his limbs or adding more appendages. The biggest mistake the vessels ever made was telling him about Slenderman.

He purrs! All of the vessels can, but III is the only one who really takes advantage of it. The others do too, but rarely.

Very fond of his outfits. Thankfully, he's constantly finding new clothing in his wardrobe, courtesy of Sleep.

Very chatty compared to the other vessels! While the rest sort of prefer the telepathic route for communication, III prefers to speak aloud.

Voted "most likely to get into trouble". The Shenanigans are endless tbh, and it's not unusual for him to end up in a situation where he has to call upon the manor itself or one of the others for help. (There's a reason most of the chandeliers in the manor have been removed).

Also the most likely to do stuff just to see if it hurts him. Think "I'm functionally immortal. Surely it won't hurt if this critter I found bites me". It does hurt. He does it again a week later.

Fluff:

That being said, he loves to make you laugh. Any time you're down and need cheering up, III is your man. There's not much he won't do to get at least a giggle out of you.

Turns into a bit of a boa constrictor when you cuddle. The man is all limbs even without altering their length, so it's normal for the two of you to take the phrase "getting tangled up" very literally.

So. Much. Energy. Seriously, he's always pulling you here and there to join him on adventures, babbling away the whole time as he tells you stories or just talks to you.

In the same vein, he's very prone to just. Blurting out his feelings about you. The rest of the vessels are more reserved, some only saying such things through your mental connection, but III has no trouble telling you out loud how much he cares about you.

III really, really likes to make you things as gifts. Granted, sometimes they can be a bit... eccentric (necklace pendant made out of one of his own teeth, for example), but they really do come from a place of love.

Very fond of just... running his hands over you. Whether it be lightly tracing your shoulder, keeping a hand at your back, or just slinging an arm around your shoulders, III is a very affectionate vessel.

Loves wearing matching things!! Get checkered socks to match his and he's over the moon. Even if it's something as simple as wearing matching colors, he just likes being able to see he's tied to you in some way, shape, or form.

Breaks out the purring often, especially when you let him rest his head on your chest. He'll just plop down atop you and start rumbling. He'll gladly lay there for hours if you'll let him - even going so far as to get into some slight trouble for missing practice/rehearsals.

Smut (under the cut):

Remember how I said he can change his body at will? I'm sure you know where I'm going with this. He'll adjust the size of his cock to be exactly what you want. Too big? He'll tone it down. Need more? Say less. (He's also been known to uh. "Create" more of them, should you ask. But you didn't hear that from me).

Likes to nip and bite at you. It's his most common form of foreplay; just nibbling at your pulse point or gently grabbing your shoulder with his mouth. It's never hard enough to break the skin or make you bleed, it's just a habit he's developed.

Every once in a while, when he's feeling particularly needy, he'll conjure up multiple arms. Just to be able to feel you under as many of his hands as possible. Also comes in handy (no pun intended) considering he can grope you everywhere at the same time. He doesn't have to choose.

Likes to tease, in any way imaginable. With his words, his touch, anything. If he doesn't have you begging for more at some point, then he hasn't done his job.

Whether he is soft or rough is really a coin toss. Some times he can be so gentle it almost hurts, murmuring quiet words of praise and littering your skin with kisses. Other times he can't contain himself and needs to simply have you in any way you'll let him. What causes the flip is really anyone's guess.

Has a wide submissive streak. More than once you've been able to pin him beneath you as you straddle his hips, only for him to look up at you with eyes as wide as his grin. He'll gladly let you take control whenever you want.

I'm sure this comes as no surprise, but the man is an expert at dirty talk. Any kind of talk you want, he's got it at the ready for you. Most of the time it's a mix between praise and playful condescension.

I've mentioned it briefly elsewhere, but III loves to come on you. Anywhere you'll let him, he doesn't care, as long as he can see it trailing down your skin. Your stomach or back are his usual go-to locations, however.