#i really like drawing ratchet's hair

[phosphostar]

Could you make hc for the mouthwashing crew (minus Jdiddy) if they had actually been saved and made it back to earth after the crash? Like what life would be like for them? PLS PLS I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THM😭

LMFAO OF COURSE I CAN!!!!!!

return velocity

what if the crew (anya, daisuke, curly, swansea) made it back after the events of mouthwashing..?

cw: uhhh none really? except for what’s under the cut! tell me if i missed anything <3

𝐝𝐚���𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

oh my sweet summer boy.

he made it out with uhm

let’s just say a whole bunch of scars

his mom, was obviously worried. horrified. her baby.. hurt?? because of her? her heart is broken

but daisuke’s like “nono it’s okay!! i got a cool scar to show off to the ladies!!”

she just facepalms

i also hc daisuke never really learned how to drive. was too worried about partying. so swansea had to drive him and anya to their respective houses (i’ll get to why curly wasn’t there in a moment)

his parents meet anya and swansea

they are so happy they met swansea. this man taught our son? he’s gonna do great.

until daisuke goes back to yapping about video games. yeah so great.

they heavily thank anya though, for helping with saving daisuke after climbing into the vent. without her, he would’ve certainly died

basically daisuke finds his purpose (keeping cool in situations and dedicating his life to his friends)

𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐚

my poor baby anya

so we all know she struggled getting into medical school prior to the events in mouthwashing

in my mind daisuke’s parents helped pay for her medical school due to her basically saving his life

she goes to medical school, gets her necessary digress, and works in healthcare!!

ABORTS THE BABY.

SHE DOES NOT KEEP THE BABY.

becomes curly and swansea’s primary healthcare worker because she knew them best

really into gardening! helps take her mind off the ptsd of everything that happened

got a restraining order against j-diddy

gets a kitty named towellet. she loves the thing.

𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐚

oh my swansea. no one loves you the way i do.

obviously is so happy to see his wife

and his kids!! can’t forget about them

they’d be worried sick, obviously hearing about the news of the tulpar

he reassures them that he’s safe (obviously), and he’ll be able to retire!!

his wife is obviously excited

i hc his wife is already retired and his kids already have kids

peepaw swansea for the win <33

i also hc he adopted an old bulldog.

they watch soap operas together all day and snore on the couch super loudly

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲

…

surprisingly didn’t die??

also he wasn’t in swansea’s car because uhm.. he was airlifted to the hospital

his recovery is difficult, obviously

he has moments he’s not sure he’ll make it out alive, and wonders if he should even still be breathing

obviously loves when swansea, daisuke, and anya visit. he literally loves it

he was given a multitude of surgeries, including skin graphs from donors, so some parts have darker hair than others, he thinks it’s cool.

daisuke was also a good match for blood i hc!! anya, daisuke, and swansea now regularly donate blood and plasma <3

i hc curly got an emotion support/guide dog names ratchet

sweetest baby around and curly adores him

he has prosthetics for his limbs, and used to completely cover them, a mask on his face and his hood up to complete the look

now he’s more confident in himself, and will happily go without a mask and basketball shorts!!

he has a voice box, but is still getting used to it!

daisuke bleached all his hair and cut it off for curly to make him a wig

he dosent wear it much, but he keeps it in a safe space

he wears a much more comfortable hair system

daisuke made his out of love, not practicality

𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞

company goes belly up.

curly and everyone sues him. even j-diddy.

they all win

what more can i say

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

they all still love hanging out, the 4 of them

goes to anya’s graduation

daisuke constantly draws for all of them

swansea fosters kittens

anya loves to bake treats for all of them

curly loves to spin his shoulder around to cause his prosthetic to spin in a complete circle

…

i’m so sorry

𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲

well.

woah.

he had a hefty trial.

obviously found guilty

got beat up in prison

was released on good behavior 🖕

i don’t think anya ever truly forgave him, or anyone for that matter.

which like good?

but he does visit curly sometimes at his hospital room

and sends the whole crew birthday/holliday cards

(only sends them to anya after his restraining order is done)

got a pitbull named mikey. loves his baby

he’s trying to turn his life around

he’s definitely still not sane

has been admitted to a mental institution involuntarily a few times

is on heavy medication to regulate his mood

got a sleeve tattoo of stars representing the crew (with their permission). i think he has a full sleeve

(thank you @/curly-my-beloved for that idea!!)

definitely got some of daisuke’s doodles tatted on him

a few important dates

he’s trying to be better

still an ass tho

i still don’t like him

[starlightmoon96]

Yandere Optimus Prime/Yandere Megatron x OC character chapter 15

(It's been quite a few years since I continued writing this series but seeing how it's already started to get some likes not long after posting it got me a little inspired in writing again I'm hoping in ending the series around chapter 20 maybe? Or somewhere close to the number to the point where I think I'm done)

Sabina was happy seeing Toshiro again and he was happy seeing her as the two hugged, she had waiting for Mr.Walker for a bit and had gotten worried before Toshiro had arrived at the hotel. Both of them assumed the worst and that led to them getting out of the hotel and to the car that was waiting for the two of them, Sabina was a little surprised when she realized that they where in Alaska. She had never been before and it explained the snow weather and the people, in Japanese Toshiro had explained to Sabina about his plan going into motion about hiding both you and Hiro in a secrete bunking that the two of you would live for the time being. He alongside Yuko had planned it and had everything prepared, though Sabina couldn't help but tear up hearing that she had to chop off her long beautiful hair since it was easy to spot her. As much as it hurt she agreed, it was a little shock that he had cut her hair during the car ride to the airport. All Toshiro did was tie her hair in a loss ponytail and cut her hair with the scissors that he had brought, yes Sabina's hair felt a lot lighter and she knew it was for the best for her safety.

Sabina was so used to her long hair and the sudden weight change on her head was something new to her, it was around an hour drives when they had reached the airport and to the privet jet that was waiting for the pair. Right at the moment they got on the jet it had taken off not wasting any time, Sabina felt like she could breath again and she told Toshiro what had happened to her and even showing the scars that Optimus had left on her stomach. Toshiro was angry with what had happened to her and knew how terrified she was, the location that they where heading to was England where Hiro was waiting of them already at the bunker the day that she was abducted for his own protection. Another thing she was VERY happy about was getting far away from Optimus Prime as possible, now she was terrified of him more then Megatron before she knew what his name was.

It was hard getting across the planet when your trying to hide, now knowing that there where humans working for the decepticons he was hear to trust people especially with the decepticon encounter she had back in Japan hearing that Megatron was still looking for her. Now that she had her hair chopped off it was a little easier in hiding in playing sight while and Toshiro traveled threw England to Scotland, from them changing out cars and even changing disguises. The last step in the transport was on a boat to an island in Scotland was the final destination and where Sabina can final rest after ten hours of travel, the really hard part was making sure that they weren't followed.

During those ten hours you can bet Optimus was furious that Sabina had escaped, though he didn't blame you. If it weren't for Mr. Walker that had seen and spoken with her she would still be with him, after he had killed him he had mixed feelings about himself. Breaking his vow in not harming humans, yet he did it because he had lost something the meant everything to him. And he wasn't going to sit by and let Sabina slip past his fingers again, he had taken action. Using NESTS resources without him drawing attention to himself he managed to get a hit that Sabina was last seen in England. That Ratchet was worried about his behavior and he finally managed to confront his commander before optimus had heading out....which was a big mistake, Optimus had threatened Ratchet at gun point in not getting in his way and the look that he had given Ratchet proved that he would pull the trigger to his riffle. The more important was his eyes they had changed, from the once blue of an autobot now had slowly faded to red.

"Man I can't believe you cut all you hair?" Hiro had said that holding the large bundle of Sabina's hair as soon as Sabina and Toshiro had arrived at the bunker, Hiro was shocked seeing Sabina had chopped off her long hair. Hiro knew how much she loved her hair and understood why she had to cut it, after that shock was over Toshiro had explain how the bunker worked they had enough good food supply to last them for a couple of years along with working water and electricity. Sabina couldn't thank him enough in his help before he left and the bomb shell from Hiro was that he had already sent their marriage licenses to the court house so they where now legally married and promised Sabina the wedding of their dreams after all the crazy was over. Sabina did give her hair back to Toshiro for him to auction off and donate the earnings to caner children before he left and promised he'd do it.

The inside of the bunker was nice and it fit Sabina's love for gothic furniture, one thing that was good was that they had reading material, board games and even radio in keeping up with the outside world. Not only radio but also TV that played dvd's and old school games in keeping them entertained, after Sabina had gotten comfortable Sabina had told Hiro everything that had happened to her. Like Toshiro he was angry that Optimus had hurt and given her such deep scars in marking her, he believed her when she told him that Megatron would have done worse and not treating her wounds and was relieved that Optimus did treat her from getting infection.

You think the first night of being married you'd get intimate right? Wrong Sabina tried but she couldn't still kissing was as far as she could go anything further she would freak out even if it was with Hiro, Sabina had another bomb shell to her Hiro had did research and found out why Sabina was so uncomfortable with sex. She had never heard the word asexual before, but after he explain it to her it made complete sense why she was so uncomfortable with sex and why she felt different from a lot of people. She always figured she hadn't met the right before before Hiro came into her life, Hiro didn't care that she was asexual he loved her enough in accepting her no matter what which made her very happy that he was in her life and now that he was her husband. 

The first week for Sabina was thee most peaceful she had been, she hadn't slept so good in a while. Now that she had Hiro cuddling with her instead of Optimus really help out her mental state, she still had the injuries on her neck from Optimus's bits and Hiro had been treating them so they wouldn't get too bad like the scars on her stomach. It was also an adjustment with Sabina's hair being chopped off, she saw the benefits one of them was she no longer had to braid her hair at night and washing her hair wouldn't take two hours anymore. Now as for outside contact there was harry potter inspiration with using delivery birds and the birds dropping off the letters at a special shoot that led to the bunker, the less tech that was used the better.

That plan worked since only two people knew where Sabina and Hiro where, Toshiro had moved Yuko to a remote island in japan where there wasn't that much modern technology and Toshiro himself had moved to hawaii. Then going to separate locations was a smart move, human that where working with Megatron where on the hunt for the two in getting information. You can bet how pissed off Megatron was that there where no ledges on Sabina's location other than the last seen location which was in London, Optimus Prime was no better. His obsession with Sabina Rose had made him leave NEST and on his own searching for her, it worried his autobots and it wasn't like Optimus to just disappear. 

"I sure hope everyone is doing alright?" Sabina said that to Hiro while the two where cuddling on the couch while watching 1988 Phantom of the opera and Hiro paused the movie before answering

"I have a feeling there fine, I also know that they would rather dye then telling anything." Sabina gave him a calm smile when he said that to her before he kissed the tip of her nose, however they didn't know that there peace was going to come to an end soon. The hair the Toshiro had sold and donated had been tracked by one of humans working for Megatron, you can bet he went in person using his mass displacement as he wanted to take a much closer look at the hair. When he held it he knew right away that it was Sabina Rose's hair and it explain how he hasn't been able to find her since she chopped off most of it. The human told him that the hair was found in England so there a chance that Sabina was hiding in either England, Scotland or Ireland, at the same time optimus had managed to catch wind of the news of Sabina's locations. He had search England and had no luck so he continued his search in Scotland and Ireland, instead of search Scotland first he went to Ireland instead.

[sithgoddess19]

My beloved OC/wife 🤧💍

So, my first ever transformers OC, I have

Meet blacklight :) honestly blacklight had always been my comfort OC. Literally after rewatching the first and fourth transformers movie back in early 2022, I just straight up make her without a thought and even if my OC, she’s my wife. Now don’t ask about the hair I have two reasons, 1: I was in the early stage of drawing transformers 2: I got inspired by elita one in transformers animated. Okay enough about this, here are some basic info

Name: Blacklight

Fractions: autobot

alt mode: SSC Ultimate aero

Personlity: she may be cold and deadly meaning some may mistake her as decepticon, but she really nice and caring sometimes like a mother

Backstory: Blacklight was only a sparkling when her parent were killed by the decepticon, ratchet found her in the alleyway and took her in, during her years of training. blacklight was just a normal cybertonian kid, when in the mid age, she was very close even best family friends to megatron and sential prime, but when starting the fall of cyberton, she was sad and shock to see megatron as the new leader of decepticon when she was fighting, she got caught in one with tempest, tempest rips blacklight left eye out ((then blacklight rips her head off during the chicago battle >:3)), blacklight was close to dead but once again optimus and ratchet save her, replace her eye with a eyepatch. When the autobot were tolded to head to earth, blacklight landed on earth in the mid 1980s, during her time, she watch human as they normally live but during that time, blacklight was developing some anger and rage feeling that she should revenge them which wasn't the autobot way but she felt them. In late 1990s, she was bought by a human named dave and they become close….too close. (i'll so write her life in the battles or the future)

relationship status: she is poly, she was in love with dave but she found she poly so she fell for wheelie (he act differently in my au btw), then crosshairs and fangsnap

(damn that alot and if say smash, I will find you/j)

[babstheyaga]

Anything, literally anything, headcanons doodles drawings random thoughts, A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. <3

i was just talking with my girlfriend the other day that I might make another Ratchet one shot... not sure yet, though.

but any and all questions you have, i'd be willing to answer!

for now, he's some canon lore and headcanons :]

Canon Lore

Ratchet didn't always have white hair! Similar to Mirage and WheelJack, it was something they kind of grew into. He's, by no means, old, but don't worry, he's not losing his red hair just yet.

He doesn't really like old-fogy music like some people theorize. He actually prefers 2000-2010's pop! A few Frank Sinatra songs still manage to find it's why on his playlists, but most of his music is stuff he finds comforting and related to himself.

He's actually rather shy with strangers! He prefers to keep to himself most of the time, but everyone just assumes he's an introvert, which, he is, but he also gets nervous around people he doesn't know.

He was taken from his family at a very young age. He knew his parents, but will never talk about them.

It's been so long since he has heard his birthname, he no longer remembers it.

Headcanons/Undecided if adding

He and Optimus are very close personally! He's scared of Optimus, but not in the way BumbleBee or Arcee is. He's very stern when he needs to be, and will sure as hell stick up to him if needed, but he and the dark Knight consider each other friends!

He's very good with animals. A total cat person. He's an animal magnet, as well as BumbleBee. They both naturally attract furry friends.

He doesn't believe in natural medicine. He doesn't think it's logical to heal scars with baby oil, or infections with tree sap. He thinks it's childish to say "Rub some dirt on it."

He has panic attacks.

When he first joined the Autobots, he never talked, so people often thought he was mute.

[skylarkking]

Let us know lil bit of your goblin. Info. Also, your fave bots.

Ah yes, you wish to know about Gröb

So obviously they are my sona for online stuff, but they have a little history behind them.

And it's a dumb one.

I used to do minecraft YouTube videos, and my old account was GoblinMonarch. Why Goblin Monarch? Because the one session of DnD I attended I created a goblin character who had no idea who they were and needed the party's protection. Turns out they were royalty among the goblins and yeah, basically Anastasia but green. The YouTube account wouldn't go anywhere, really, but Gröb would remain. Over time, I would add my actual features to it (the shaved sides, blue/green hair, piercings, ect), and now Gröb and I are one in the same.

I usually draw Gröb without other accessories aside from the piercings, hand bandages (homage to the DnD look), and what have you, but as of late I've added my wheelchair and rollator to them whenever Gröb is standing or you see their full body.

As for my favorite bots that would depend on the series.

For TFP it has to be Ratchet (although I love almost every rendition of this milf lol)

Tfa has to be either Prowl, the Jet Twins, or my beloved twink Optimus

Armada has to be Starscream because his personality in this series is *chef's kiss*

G1 is a tie between Skyfire and Skylynx

Beastwars/beastmachines would have to be either Ratrap, Inferno, or Dinobot

MTMTE is SO HARD to choose but I think Whirl is in the highest spot right now

RID 2015 is Grimlock (I actually love this goofy ass version of the dinobot because I like big dumb cuties)

RID 2001 has to be Sideswipe and his obsession with red sports cars

Energon is definitely Ironhide because I wanna squish his face

Cyberverse is a hard tie between Soundwave and Hot Rod

Aaaaaand what little I know of Reascue Bots would have to be Blades

[Questions? Intrusive thoughts? Drop em in my ask box!]

[poisonivy-pipeline]

I've done both! The pressing setup I use looks like this:

It's effectively a stack of newspapers sandwiched between stacks of corrugated cardboard sandwiched between these comically small sized pallets, and secured with a couple of ratchet straps.

You can buy one (if you're into wasting money), but the important part is the cardboard and newspapers. You put each plant you want to press in between the pages of the newspapers, and the cardboard will help suck the water out. The rest is just to clamp everything down, so some wood, string, and bricks should work with a little experimentation.

As for illustration, the goal when trying to draw plants in a scientific way is to draw attention to the important diagnostic characters that might not be obvious from a photograph (like hairs, glands, number of stamens etc.) More importantly, drawing a thing is a really good way to commit it to memory, and to notice things you might not have noticed otherwise.

I'm NOT a scientific illustrator, and I'm not a neat drawer either, but I did do really good in a plant ID class because I drew the plants for my notes. They didn't always have to be good, so long as they were descriptive (these are just some of the nicer examples). Excuse my shitty phone camera:

Anyway, have fun and I hope you see some cool plants!

i keep wanting to post a guide to some of my fav plants but my level of knowledge about them varies so much. I can't really give like an extensive list of plants I recommend because i recommend based on personal experience with them and my types of personal experience are all over the place lol

[puretrash2424]

happy pride month yall

[frannyzooey]

beloved kelli. fellow "shushing you while taking it"-lover. i was thinking about dave coming back from a job that was more difficult than he thought it would be and things getting messy (maybe there were more people waiting than he thought, but he made it work of course). and he comes back from the job covered in blood, absolutely feral because of all the adrenaline, and wakes up a very confused reader because he needs her. he's never particularly careful, but he definitely isn't now; already working himself inside before she's really ready and shushing her little whimpers, holding her wrists, kissing her neck, the swell of her chest, and leaving them sticky with blood...

this should be more polished for you, my lovely ❤️ but lemme just pour some thoughts about between emails 🥰

dave york x f!intern, the office universe

rating: explicit, rough

—

this isn’t for you, it’s for him — he’s using you to rid himself of the stress, of the adrenaline, pouring it into your body with every harsh kiss and every rough shove of himself inside. you take it, knees to your chest, the hands that just murdered people in cold blood hours ago keeping them in place with a strong grip behind your thighs and he’s relentless and brutal, each snap of his hips punishing and deep.

you can’t speak; all sounds and breath being fucked out of you and you can taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue when he pushes his thick fingers in your mouth, making you suck on them.

he’s gonna try to get you there, try to use those wet, slippery fingers to rub your clit with a precision only he knows but if he can’t make you come, he’ll only empty himself inside of you and then do it with his mouth.

you’re going to though — the fat, filling length of his cock stretching your cunt wide, the folds snugly wrapped around him as he pounds in, in, in and you wonder if the grunt he lets out, the growl of frustration when he shuts his eyes with a furrowed brow is the same sound he makes when he works a knife into someone.

no — that side of him is always so cool and calm, always so measured and calculating and silent. this side is one only you get to see — the unraveling of a man always holding himself in tight control and you take everything from him gladly.

a pinch of pain twists your features when he pushes in too deep and even though he’s barely hanging on, he sees it; pulling out to flip you effortlessly onto your stomach, tugging your hips into the air before slamming back in.

david you whine, his name spilling into the cool sheets as your body rocks forward in a rhythmic motion and the slap of his hips behind you is lewd; the sharp swat of his palm on your ass cracking loud in the room.

you can take it, he tells you, gritting out the words more for himself than for you and when you say nothing, he reaches down to fist your hair, tugging your face up off the bed.

you suck in a harsh inhale of air, your hands grasping at the sheets but he pulls you even higher, drawing you back into his flushed, heaving chest. his hand curls around your hip to keep you in place, the other one wrapping around the base of your throat and you can feel the slip of it on your skin — is that sweat, or blood?

take it, take it he chants hot in your ear, his teeth tugging on the lobe before he gives it a thick kiss and your ass fits snug and neat against his hips as he burrows deeper. you are taking it, you have no choice but to and when you drop your hand down to your clit, he groans at the way you suck him deeper and clench around him.

you always take it so good — in his office, in the hotel rooms, in the middle of the night and during the day, whenever he needs you like this — and you’re taking it now, seeking to relieve him of his stress. your back is arched painfully to allow him to get as deep as he can, your skin bruising under his grip, your neck now showing marks of his hungry mouth as he sucks them into your flesh and his harsh exhales ratchet your heat higher, bringing you closer to release.

you don’t know what he was thinking coming back to the room like this, evidence of what he did splattered and smeared all over his clothes, the memory of the night still imprinted in his hands as he tightens his grip on your throat — but you’ll find out the answers to that later, when he’s done.

he’s almost there — his hips stuttering in their push against yours, his breathing holding tight in his throat as you push yourself deeper into his cock and hold him there with a palmful of his ass, your fingers digging into the flesh deep enough to make marks and he comes with a loud groan, one that vibrates into the very core of you, rumbling between your shoulder blades.

he was blinded by the intensity of it, black over taking his vision for a moment and when he blinks behind you, his face burrowing into your soft hair, for the first time tonight he’s brought back to himself — and to you.

suddenly his hands aren’t quite so unforgiving, loosening in their grip and sliding into a more soothing drag over your skin, but he keeps you tight to his solid, warm body, holding you in place as you take this too — his silent apology, his revere, his love.

[anon-e-miss]

Shaping You - 2

“Scrap,” Jazz cursed. One moment, Prowl was standing ever so stiffly next to him, the next moment, he was falling, soundlessly to the floor. He caught the Praxian, grunting as he strained under the mech’s not insignificant dead weight, Jazz managed to lower Prowl to the ground without messing with his doorwings.

“Let me see,” Ratchet ordered, gruffly, having broken through the gawking crowd. His scanner tickled Jazz’s sensory grid. “Overheating... What is this ununtrium?”

“No idea...” Jazz replied, anxiously.

He did not know what made up the rich armour, evident at first sight to have been so much finer than his own. Not that this matter to him, Jazz had suggested his originator make an offer for the Praxian’s spark for his in bonding after hearing about the mech’s enormously wealthy procreators’ search for a bondmate for him. Prowl’s wealth, or the wealth of his procreators had been precisely what Jazz had wanted him for and it had not been a surprise to see him him decked out in armour covered in rare crystals. In the Polihexian sun, Prowl had glittered like a rare jewel and throughout the ceremony and the banquet he had seemed as remote as one.

“Get coolant,” Ratchet ordered as he lifted Prowl, so stiff even in stasis lock. “Bring it to your chambers.”

“Sure thing Ratch,” Jazz replied. He turned his helm to Punch and saw his originator’s scowl. “It’s all good. Keep the party goin’. We’ll be back, or we won’t. No sense ruinin’ the dark-cycle for everyone.”

“Jazz...” Ori called his designation as Jazz turned to the door that Ratchet had already carried Prowl off through.

“It’s cool,” Jazz said. “I can fix this.”

Jazz did not linger, even though he knew that Punch had plenty to say. In this instance, Jazz feared Ratchet’s wrath far more than his originator’s; the medic would not pull his punches. He went immediately to the kitchen where the chefs and their staff were toiling over dessert. The mood in the kitchen was tense and they did not immediately notice him. Rather than draw attention to himself, Jazz slipped in and gathered coolant, he listened to them vent to each other.  Glyph had gotten to them that their feast had not been to the uppity Praxian’s tastes and Jazz wince. Prowl had not eaten much of anything; it was fair that they would be upset to see their orns of effort snubbed. There was nothing Jazz could do for it now but talk to Prowl later. Perhaps he could convince the Praxian to make an attempt. A crown carried as much responsibility as opportunity and Prowl needed to give the Polihexians their due.

He made his way to his chambers, a weird thought still, considering Jazz had lived in roughly cut caves in the desert most of his sparklinghood and younglinghood as his originator had fought to reclaim Polihex from invaders and traitors. Staniz was heavily scarred from the warring and pillaging but as Jazz stroked a patched seem in the mosaic scene on the wall by his door, they were already rebuilding. Knowing Ratchet had brought Prowl here, not to the Praxian’s suite but then Jazz supposed Ratchet would not have known where it was, he knocked, just once to announce himself. No one was in sitting room; Jazz heard the shower running in the washracks and carried the coolant there.

Ratchet knelt by the shower as Prowl sat, hunched over, under the spray. It was good to see him upright at least, though he could not really see Prowl, apart from his doorwings, through Ratchet’s bulk.

“Coolant?” The medic asked, gruffly. Jazz knew that tone. Ratchet was not impressed by the scrap he was dealing with and Jazz was in his cross hairs.

“I got it,” Jazz said. Ratchet reached up and Jazz gave him the coolant. The way Ratchet was sitting, the way his armour was flared, Jazz hesitated to approach further; Ratchet was protecting Prowl from him. “Are ya feelin’ better Prowl.”

“Yes,” Prowl replied, stiffly.

“Drink the coolant,” Ratchet ordered. “Your temperature’s mostly normalized.”

“Anything else I can grab?” Jazz asked.

“Fuel,” Ratchet said. “He hasn’t eaten in three mega-cycles.”

“Scrap,” Jazz cursed. “I’ll be back!”

Why? There was no shortage of fuel in the palace on a cycle to cycle basis and there had been a bonding feast and Prowl had not even picked at the fuel. Why? Jazz would get the answers from Ratchet, if not Prowl, because Ratchet would get them from Prowl. His conjunx may have been a reserved and remote mech but Ratchet could drag answers out of his patients better than any interrogator. This time, when Jazz flew into the kitchen, his arrival was noticed and the staff, all but Dipole, set their trays down, a great clatter going out as they moved to bow. He shook his helm and waved his servos.

“Please, don’t,” he said. Remembering their ill feelings towards Prowl earlier, he came up with a quick, serviceable lie and looked pleadingly at his Aunt in all but code. “I need a plate o’ fuel for my conjunx. He ain’t been able to fuel these last few mega-cycles but didn’t wanna complain ‘n make trouble.”

“Oh dear,” Dipole said, a fixture in the caves from Jazz’s earliest memories, the femme had refused any noble titled and had claimed the kitchen as her domain. Fuelling mechanisms pleased her, though her real talent was as a brewer. “Three mega-cycles?”

“That’s what Ratchet said,” Jazz replied. The femme shook her helm.

“He’ll be famished then,” Dipole mused. “But his tank might be delicate, especially with him overheating. Some lighter fair to start...”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jazz agreed and he waited for the femme to load a tray with a bowl of Damaxian Opal Soup and assorted hors d’oeurves.

“If he’s still hungry when he’s done, ring for more,” Dipole ordered. “Poor mech. Getting sick in a foreign land before your bonding with not a spark on his side.”

“His procreators were supposed to be here,” Jazz said. “So Ori tells me. I don’t know why they didn’t turn up. Ya’d o’ thought they’d wanna watch their creation bond.”

“You’d think,” Dipole replied.

Dipole’s glyphs made Jazz feel more guilty. He had barely gotten back to Staniz in time for the ceremony and in all the rush to prepare, he had not thought to seek Prowl out when he had heard their Praxian guests had been a no show. Meeting your conjunx to be for the first time in the temple was not unusual for these sorts of bondings and Jazz just not really thought, well he had thought disturbing Prowl when he had been getting ready would have been an unwelcome disruption, then he had not considered that Prowl must have been doing all of his preparations alone. It must have been a sad and lonely light-cycle for him.

The shower was off when Jazz returned to his chambers and he heard talking from the berthroom and followed the sound. Wrapped only in a bath sheet, Prowl looked chagrined when Jazz walked inside and Ratchet looked exasperated. Prowl held the sheet up, covering his bare protoform. Jazz smiled at him as he carried the tray over, as he did Ratchet stood up, and gestured for Jazz to take his place. Even as he sat, Jazz saw Prowl’s doorwings droop and it answered the question as to whether or not they could move. Maybe the armour had kept them locked in place. Embarrassment was thick in Prowl’s field and Jazz kept smiling a reassuring smile as he unfolded the legs of the tray and set it front of Prowl.

“Dipole thought, what with ya not fuellin’ for a few mega-cycles ‘n overheatin’ that ya outta start wit somethin’ lighter,” Jazz explained the choice of fuels.

“Good call,” Ratchet said. “In the light-cycle, bring your detailer in. Prowl needs new armour made. Everything he has is ununtrium and it’s the last thing anyone needs to wear in the desert. Key reason Praxus never succeeded in invading Polihex since the Silver Age. They never make it across the desert in their battle armour.”

“I do not want to make anymore trouble,” Prowl argued and Jazz felt suddenly that much more sad for him.

“Won’t be any trouble,” Jazz replied. “‘M sorry we didn’t warn ya or see that ya had what ya needed it.”

“Comm me if you feel sick again, Prowl,” Ratchet ordered. “Now fuel.”

“Yes, Medic,” Prowl replied. “You do not need to sit with me, Jazz. There is no need for you to miss all the merrymint.”

“I think ‘m good right here,” Jazz said. “Thanks Ratch. I’ll take care o’m.”

“Good.”

The sheet did not fit Prowl, Jazz realized. Prowl was holding it up, crossed over his chassis because there was not enough fabric to tuck in. As Prowl lowered his knees, Jazz saw the soft rolls of his belly and as intrigued. That armouring he had been wearing had not hinting to any softness to his protoform. Ratchet made a reproachful noise and Prowl sighed. He took his spoon and ate the soup. Only once his patient was fuelling did Ratchet deign to leave. Without both servos pulling the bath sheet together, one side fell. Prowl tucked his arm awkwardly into himself as he tried to eat but it did not do much to block Jazz’s view of his chassis, specifically his large wells. Prowl set down the spoon and tried to tug the sheet so he could hold both corners in one servo. A loud, tear echoed and the Praxian dropped both servos as he sighed and the sheet fell, revealing the full magnificence of his figure.

“How in Primus’ designation did ya squeeze... all o’... yerself into that armour?” Jazz asked in shock. He regretted the question as humiliation flowed thickly in Prowl’s field. “I just meant... I thought... ya looked like a speedster in that get up.”

“That is the aesthetic Praxians seek,” Prowl replied, cheekplates flushed a bright red, he kept his optics down. “One my originator naturally sought for me when he had the armour cut.”

“Were ya not ‘sposed to be able to fuel?” Jazz asked. “Looking at ya... It must o’ been so tight it hurt, I can’t believe ya climbed all those steps.”

“If it had fit better, I may have been able to fuel more normally,” Prowl confessed. “But he ordered it made in too small a size. I had to fast in order to get it to latch and it nearly did not.”

“‘M so sorry he did that,” Jazz replied and he instantly hated his originator in law. “‘M sorry ya felt like ya had to squeeze into that.... Ya have a beautiful shape. There no reason for ya to crush it all into armour like that.”

“My originator did not want me to be lumpy on my bonding cycle,” Prowl said, and Jazz wanted to comfort him. The mech had not even managed to be in Staniz had he had successful tortured his creation. “I have no doubt when he learns what I spectacle I made of myself, he will be very displeased.”

“Y’re not lumpy,” Jazz replied, aghast. “Y’re perfectly curvaceous.”

“Curvaceous is a euphemism for fat,” Prowl declared and Jazz was very displeased to hear his new conjunx talk down to himself.

“Fat ain’t a bad glyph,” he said. “It don’t need a euphemism. We like out curves in Polihex, especially on our brides. Shows ya got the shanix to take care o’ yerself ‘n yer mate.”

“I see,” Prowl said, though he sounded skeptical.

“Y’ll see,” Jazz replied and he smiled sincerely. “When ya look ‘round the court. Y’ll see. No one is gonna think y’re lumpy, they’re gonna think y’re a true beauty.”

“Thank you,” Prowl smiled a soft, shy smile as he answered and Jazz was delighted. “I am sorry I ruined your bonding cycle.”

“Ours ‘n ya didn’t ruin anythin’,” Jazz assured him. “We messed it up. ‘M sorry I didn’t get back in time to see that ya were bein’ ignored.”

“I made a poor impression on your originator,” Prowl said.

“I don’t think he made a good one on ya,” Jazz replied. Prowl just shook his helm.

“He is King. It does not matter my impression of him, only his of me.”

“Bein’ king don’t give Ori the right to be rude or dismissive,” Jazz said. “I expect better o’m. Ya deserved better.”

“I could not bow right,” Prowl said, finally going back to his fuel. Jazz listened to the anxiety in his new conjunx’s voice and became determined to fix this mess. “My armour was cut too high. I did not know how Polihexians bow. He was displeased. He did not say anything but he was displeased.”

“Prowl, I realized somethin’ in all o’ this. Ori was gonna find a reason to be unhappy. If bowin’ different was enough than he got real shallow ‘n ain’t the mech who raised me. Nah, Ori’s don’t like this whole arrangement. It was my idea. He didn’t want me to bond to...”

“A title-hunter?” Prowl asked, softly.

“Y’re not the title-hunter,” Jazz guessed. “Yer procreators are... ‘n they didn’t even show after they got what they needed. ‘M sorry.”

“One of their treasure ships is being held in bond in Simfur,” Prowl explained. “They felt their agents would solve the issues faster with the pressure of their presence. They wanted my brother there to see how it was done.”

“‘M so sorry,” Jazz said. “I can’t imagine how bad that would feel.”

“I, we, have always come second to the business,” Prowl said. “I am elder to Barricade but he will inherit the business empire because I am glitched and thus unworthy. It irritated them to no end that none of the Dukedoms would overlook my glitch in favour of their shanix. Though not as wealthy as my procreators, they had fortunes enough not to want to corrupt their sparklines.”

“Primus,” Jazz cursed. “I am so sorry ya been treated this way. Ya don’t deserve it. Havin’ a glitch don’t make ya any less... Can I get ya more fuel?”

“Oh...” Prowl murmured as he looked up from the empty tray. “I would not want to make a pig of myself.”

“Ya aren’t,” Jazz said. “Dipole asked me to call if ya were still hungry. After three mega-cycles without anythin’, I can’t see how wantin’ seconds would be piggy.”

“I would like more,” Prowl replied. Jazz grinned.

“It’s on its way.”

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2022, Day 4 - Trauma/Healing

(Predictably I wound up finding some way to hurt Robin emotionally for that warm RobStar hurt/comfort afterwards.  Whoops.

Warning for a depiction of a panic attack.)

---

The darkness he wandered through was broken up by scattered stray spotlights.

He felt frustrated.  It seemed like he had been walking forever but he couldn't find the way out.  This place had no end, just corridor after corridor and room after room of noisy clanking gears and hot steam that blew in his face, obscuring his vision and confusing him further.

Wariness crawled on the backs of his arms and his head.  He turned around, even more lost and bewildered than before.

Where was the way out?

Why couldn't he get out?

He stepped through another steam cloud into a solid black obstruction.  Stumbling back, he shook his head, feeling back out with his hands to see what he'd hit.

A wall.  Solid metal.  He squinted in confusion, running his palms down the surface.

Smooth.

Seamless.

His breath hitched and panic ratcheted up inside his head.  He whipped his head around and picked out recognizable forms in the darkness—a dresser, a desk, a bed—no no no.

"No..." he strained aloud, voice choked and tight.  "No!"  His fingers clenched into fists and now he was slamming them against the hidden door, banging desperately.  "Let me out!" he cried, his lungs squeezing tighter and tighter.  "Let me OUT!"

The walls were pressing in on his mind.  His breath was reduced to thin gasping.  There was an ice shard digging its way into his chest and a shadow behind him, dark and looming.

A thick hand gripped his shoulder and—

***

He startled upright.

His gasp was echoed by a feminine one just behind him, the feel of something leaving his shoulder.  Robin pulled his head up ramrod straight from where he'd apparently been laying it on his arms, his eyes darting around and frantically trying to make sense of things.

It was still dark, but a cool blue dark, moonlight from the wide windows and the tiny power indicators on home appliances tucked in corners.  He registered a table, seats, counters—tension in his head began to unwind—it was the Titans' kitchen area, it was the Tower.  He was sitting at the kitchen table, half-empty forgotten glass of water at his elbow.

His heart thudding rapidly in his chest, he turned in his seat to see the person who had shaken him.

Starfire was twinging back, hands up by her collar, immediately apologetic. "I am sorry!" she said in a rush.  "I did not mean to startle you."  Her hands dropped and he could see her eyes beaming with concern.  "I could not sleep," she began to explain.  "So I went to check on you but..."

He watched her swallow, something like pain shooting through him at the worried quiver in her lip.

"You were not there."

Robin looked away uncomfortably.  "Yeah, sorry, I..."  His hands found his head, fingers dragging through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck.  "I couldn't really sleep either.  Came out for some water."  He tried for a sheepish smile, but it felt too strained, too agitated.  "I guess I nodded off and..."

His breath hitched unexpectedly, flashes of his nightmare coming back.

"And—"

There was a hard lump in his throat; it was blocking his words, he couldn't finish.  His pulse was racing and it was hard to draw breath.

Starfire stepped towards him in concern.  "Robin?" she called.

He couldn't answer.  His lungs had locked up.  He pressed his elbows on the table, fingers going tight around his ears, vision tunneling.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, he repeated to himself in his head.

He couldn't.  He couldn't make himself snap out of it—He—

A warm gentle arm wrapped around his shoulders and he reflexively calmed.

***

Starfire grabbed another chair and yanked it underneath her so she could sit next to him, straining to remember how Robin had calmed her that one time back in their apartment, after her first unpleasant experience with Earth thunderstorms.  He had anchored her with his presence, his arms around her, been patient and encouraging.

"Breathe, Robin," she urged gently, whispering close to his head.  "Breathe."

She could tell he was trying; the muscles in his throat constricted and twitched, little strained whimpers slipping through.

Seeing him undone like this almost frightened her—as long as she'd known him he had been so strong and confident—but given that it had been a mere two days since they had rescued him from Slade's clutches, two days since that horrible week where he'd been missing, held prisoner, forced to commit crimes in Slade's name...

Starfire remembered her own sense of terror and helplessness in her cell on the Gordanians' ship, taking her away from home to an unknown dark future, how desperately she would have given to just get out.

She did as Robin had done for her.  Pulled his hands carefully away from his face and set them in his lap, so she could wrap her other arm around him too.

"I am right here," she promised him.  "And he is not.  You are safe.  Breathe."

Robin broke past the blockage in his throat, taking in a long, shaky breath.

He held it a pregnant second.

Then let it out.

His shaking was already beginning to subside.  He took in another slow breath and calmed quickly, eyes blinking, more present.

After a few moments he dropped his eyes.  "S-sorry," he mumbled.  "I—I just—Nightmares," he stuttered out.

She nodded once.  "I understand.  That is to be expected."

"I don't—"  He was still struggling to speak.  "I—I've been... kidnapped by other villains before I—I don't know why—"  He swallowed thickly, finding his voice.  "I don't know why this feels so different."

"Have you been abducted in the same manner before?" Starfire asked, mildly alarmed.

He sat in thought for a moment, then grimaced.  "No," he admitted.  "This was more personal.  Most villains took me to get at Batman, or because I was in the way, or I meddled in their plans."  He glanced at her, grim humor in the lines of his face.  "I've... been doing this a long time," he explained, almost sheepishly.  His face dropped again.  "This... this was the first time someone was... after me.  Wanted me, specifically.  Wanted to use me to..."

His voice lowered to a whisper.

"...betray and hurt the people I care about," he finished.

Starfire hugged him tighter, wanting to squeeze the fear out of him.  "We are okay," she emphasized again to him.  "You are safe and it is over."

He snorted humorlessly.  "Not until we put Slade behind bars."  He softened again, reaching up to touch her arm crossing his chest.  "Thank you.  For being here," he said quietly.

She smiled then.  "I would do anything for you, Robin," she said, nothing but honest earnesty in her voice and eyes.

He turned to her with a bit of a grin.  "Including apparently punting Slade into a wall."

Flushing, she let go of him and scooted away.  "Oh!  Well—that was... I mean..." she fumbled, embarrassed.

"Hey," he interrupted.  "I was really happy to see you," he said.  "Terrified, but happy."

Starfire cleared her throat, trying to quash the fluttering sparklers going off in her heart.  "Shall we return to our beds?" she asked.

Robin fidgeted.  "I should, I know, I should try to sleep but..."  He shook his head.  "I dunno if I can."

It took her less than a second to decide.  "Then I will remain awake with you and keep you company."  Before Robin could object she straightened and changed the subject.  "Shall I tell you of the time my sister bribed the guardsmen to bring us extra dessert, after hours?" she offered.

He seemed relieved not to be talking about his recently-survived ordeal.  "I don't think I've heard that one."

Starfire eagerly launched into the tale, and the two talked and exchanged stories until the far horizon started to peek with orange.

[thelovelychandelure]

Could I get a TFP Matchup? I'm a 5'0 straight female with freckles (like a lot) (I'm pale as heck and I don't tan I just burn and then get freckles) , green eyes, and brown hair (I used to have a Mohawk that I dyed different colors and its still in that awkward growing out phase).

I am a Sagittarius (tho I don't really belive in that sort of stuff) and have a mediator personality on the Briggs scale.

I love to bake, sew, crochet, draw, etc... Basically anything where I get to create something. I love seeing an idea come to life. I'm constantly making things and I like to fidget with anything I get muy hands on (meaning I have a habit of breaking stuff) (oops).

I also keep freshwater aquariums and love the process of building tanks and decorating them. I especially love shrimp because they are adorable. (And kulhi loaches) (and plecos) (and mystery snails) (and everything else I own). I love my fish....

I constantly crave affection (but will never admit to that) I really love cuddling, and am definitely touch starved but anyone who knows that has figured it out themselves. Because for some reason my brain thinks I don't deserve any of it.

I am way too nice to everyone, even at my own expense and tend to Bury my emotions when I am in pain. I have Depression and some anxiety and tend to worry about if anyone I know actually likes me while simultaneously thinking that I don't deserve anyone to love me.

I also tend to go into self hatred spirals that make me try to isolate myself (and do some other stuff that's not so good for me).

I am shy and awkward as heck. But I will talk your ear off if you get to know me.

I like being nature, alone and far from others. I like hearing the birds calls and the other noises. (Plus if there is a lake I will stare at fish) (yes I have problems).

Anyway thanks in advance if you do answer this :)

I’M ALIVE-

Sorry for being MIA for like two years, here’s your matchup-

I match you with Ratchet. You’re a little awkward? Great! He’s awkward too, and until you somehow manage to convince him to open up (most likely through surprising him with one of your interests like marine life which I think he would find fascinating) he probably will avoid you a little while. It’s nothing personal! He just wouldn’t know how to interact with you without making it weird.

Given that you also have a habit of breaking stuff I think it’s important to note that you’re one of the rare few who can get of his “I needed that!” scolding whenever something of his gets damaged. He just can’t bring himself to yell at you — though you might get one of his famous looks.

You’re not the only one who is touch starved, although you might have to be the initiator for anything in public. If you try something while he is working he’ll become especially flustered, and it only takes a touch of his servo or a kiss to his cheek to get his fans going.

Being an older mech he is a bit self conscious, and you’ll need to remind him every once in awhile that he’s good enough for you, and that even though he insists that you get with someone closer to your age group (and species) you’re perfectly content with him. He’ll do vice versa with you, and it’s a bit ironic how smitten he is with you even if he thinks you don’t feel the same at times.

He will join you on nature walks whenever he feels the need to get away from base, and on those special occasions he’ll find a nice spot where the both of you can enjoy the stars above — and each other’s company.

[azaisya]

late submission for qijiu week day 2 (curses/blessings)! have roughly 3k of lighthearted fic feat. outsider pov and getting together. rating: t

When Qi Qingqi returned from a mission with Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious body slung over one shoulder, the entirety of Cang Qiong Mountain imploded. Disciples ran everywhere like chickens with their heads cut off, and half of the Peak Lords followed suit. 

Mu Qingfang didn’t know—or care—about any of that. He was the one that Qi Qingqi dumped Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious body on, and so it was up to him to try to find a cure. 

For a sleeping curse, of all the absurd things. 

The demon had supposedly been putting entire villages to sleep so she could feast on their dreams. The stories had been alarming enough to warrant sending two Peak Lords to deal with the problem, but everybody had agreed it was probably overkill. 

Well. Apparently not.

At least Qi Qingqi had managed to behead the thing after it’d cursed Yue Qingyuan.

Demons rarely used sleeping curses. It was an impractically complicated method to get something that could be achieved with simple knockout powder or any blunt object. 

Unlike knockout powder or a blunt object, Mu Qingfang didn’t have the cure sitting readily on his shelf. 

He was just starting to sift through what he did have when the distant crash of his door slamming open interrupted his concentration. He grimaced. One of these days, Shang Qinghua was finally going to snap and go after Liu Qingge for destroying so many doors. 

“Where is he?” a voice demanded, as low and snarling and dangerous as any demon. 

Mu Qingfang hastily put down his things and made for the entrance room as the danger level ratcheted up from Liu Qingge to Shen Qingqiu. 

Sure enough, Shen Qingqiu was standing in the doorway, glaring one of Mu Qingfang’s disciples into a nervous wreck. “Tell me where he is, you sniveling brat.”

The poor boy looked like he was about to faint. Mu Qingfang came into the room and smiled pleasantly. “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from insulting my disciples, Shen-shixiong.”

Shen Qingqiu whirled on him, and the little disciple let out a squeak and ran for it. Mu Qingfang would have to scold him later, but he wouldn’t be too stern. All his disciples were terrified of Shen Qingqiu, and  for good reason. The man looked absolutely livid, his usual affected loftiness abandoned for a raw fury that even Liu Qingge couldn’t draw from him. At his hip, Xiu Ya rattled in its sheath. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

Mu Qingfang’s smile didn’t slip. “Zhangmen-shixiong is currently resting in a private room.”

“Resting,” Shen Qingqiu repeated, the word dripping with derision. He opened his fan with a sharp snap of his wrist, and his dark eyes glinted over its edge. “Let me see him.”

“Ah.” Introducing an element as volatile as Shen Qingqiu to a sick room was invariably a terrible idea. Explicitly telling him so was an even worse one. “Shen-shixiong, I’m afraid that Zhangmeng-shixiong’s state is currently very delicate. It would be best if he didn’t receive visitors right now.”

If looks could kill, Mu Qingfang would be a smear on the floor right now. “Was I asking?”

As mildly as ever, Mu Qingfang said, “I wasn’t aware that Shen-shixiong and Zhangmen-shixiong were close? If Shen-shixiong is truly so worried, then I suppose a brief visit would not be remiss.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened over his fan. “I’m not worried,” he snapped, “I am merely doing my duty, as the lord of Cang Qiong Mountain’s second peak.”

Got him. Mu Qingfang smiled, not at all smugly because he still had common sense and Shen Qingqiu still had Xiu Ya. “Shen-shixiong is truly admirable. Zhangmen-shixiong is still sleeping, and this one was just about to create a cure.”

Shen Qingqiu floundered as gracefully and loftily as he did anything else. After a beat, he closed his fan with a snap and whirled around. “Fine. Do it quickly.”

“Of course.”

Shen Qingqiu drew Xiu Ya in a dramatic sweep and leapt into the air. Mu Qingfang squinted after him. He was heading in the direction of Xian Shu Peak, which was not where he should be going if he was truly “doing his duty as the lord of Cang Qiong Mountain’s second peak.”

Which— interesting. Mu Qingfang hadn’t been aware that Yue Qingyuan’s frankly painfully obvious affections were returned with anything other than reluctant tolerance. 

He could think of no other reason for Shen Qingqiu to go haring off to Xian Shu Peak if it wasn’t to harass Qi Qingqi for more information about the demon that had cursed Yue Qingyuan. 

Well. At least that was a better use for his energy than pestering healers who had work to do. 

Mu Qingfang gave it an hour before either Shen Qingqiu or Qi Qingqi got fed up enough with each other to draw a blade, which should give him at least an hour and a half before anybody came running to him for emergency healing. 

With a sigh, he got to work. 

---

It took them forty minutes. Mu Qingfang barely resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as a hysterical Xian Shu disciple babbled about how Shen Qingqiu had attacked Qi Qingqi—

“Like a beast! For no reason at all!” the girl cried, “He’s going to kill her!” 

Mu Qingfang considered his options. He didn’t like Shen Qingqiu, but he would never deny the man the respect he deserved. He was acerbic and impossible to work with, but he would never just attack Qi Qingqi for no reason. It was far more likely that she’d snapped at him and he—in his state of heightened stress—had overreacted and then she had overreacted too. 

Mu Qingfang smiled his most dangerous smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you properly. Would shizhi mind repeating herself?”

The girl made a vague choking sound and hastily dropped into a bow. “This humble disciple apologizes for her disrespect! She—humbly—requests that Mu-shishu sends medical aid to Xian Shu Peak!”

Mu Qingfang kept smiling, because otherwise he was going to make a very unattractive expression. “What exactly did Shen-shixiong and Qi-shijie get themselves into?”

The girl wavered, still refusing to meet his gaze. “This disciple is unsure. Guo-shijie sent this one here as a— as a precautionary measure before anything terrible happened.” 

Mu Qingfang did not have time for this. He sent her away along with a handful of his best disciples to assuage her wide-eyed look of terror and irritably returned to his work. If Shen Qingqiu or Qi Qingqi got themselves hurt badly enough to need his help, then they’d need to wait their turn.

---

Thirty minutes later, there was another knock on his door. With a heavy sigh, Mu Qingfang gathered himself and went to open it. To his surprise, Shen Qingqiu was standing outside. He had his fan raised to cover the lower half of his face, and his hair and robes were only mildly ruffled by his flight here and whatever brawl he’d gotten into with Qi Qingqi.

Mu Qingfang just smiled and waited. It would do Shen Qingqiu some good to have to actually ask for what he wanted. 

Those dark eyes narrowed over his fan. “Have you made any progress in your research?”

Mu Qingfang kept smiling, because otherwise he’d probably bang his head into the door. Did Shen Qingqiu think that constant interruptions were the ideal environment for productive work? Is that what was happening here? 

It didn’t seem like he really wanted an answer, because Shen Qingqiu continued, “Qi-shimei shared the details of the incident with me. I would like to inspect our Zhangmen-shixiong’s condition myself.” He lowered his fan to reveal a smile that suggested it wasn’t a question.

Mu Qingfang did sigh this time, because apparently Shen Qingqiu cared about Yue Qingyuan! Who knew! Definitely not somebody who’d been forced to sit through their sniping at meetings, that was for sure. “Shen-shixiong may come in,” he allowed, “so long as he maintains the peace of the chambers.”

There was no point keeping him out, after all. He was practically vibrating with stress as it was, and there was no way he wouldn’t cause some other disaster if Mu Qingfang turned him away now. 

“Of course.” Shen Qingqiu closed his fan with a snap. “No need for Mu-shidi to chaperone. I’m sure he has much to do.” Without waiting for a response, he strode past Mu Qingfang and through the door to Yue Qingyuan’s sick room. 

Which. Great. Excellent. 

Mu Qingfang spent exactly three seconds valiantly staring at his work before giving up and following after Shen Qingqiu, fully prepared to do some kind of damage control. To his surprise, the other man was standing motionless in Yue Qingyuan’s doorway, toes barely over the threshold. The hand holding his fan was white with tension. 

Cautiously, Mu Qingfang said, “Shen-shixiong is free to enter.”

Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders tensed. He turned, unfolding his fan with a smooth, languid motion and bringing it up to cover the lower half of his face as he peered at Mu Qingfang. “Mu-shidi should get back to work. Cang Qiong Mountain needs our sect leader, after all.”

Mu Qingfang stared at him. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were the color of lakewater at its murkiest. They were a deep grey-green, and they were filled with something terrible and unreadable, something that was somehow even more frightening than his usual hissing, spitting fury.

Ah, he thought, suddenly. 

“I’ll find a cure,” he promised.

Shen Qingqiu’s fingers tightened around his fan. His eyes narrowed, as if he were about to scoff, but in the end he just looked back through the door at Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious form, arms tucked neatly at his sides and blanket drawn up to his chest. Without another word, he turned and stalked out.

---

Mu Qingfang read many, many scrolls. He looked through all his notes, attempted all his usual solutions, but the demon’s sleeping curse was tenacious. It clung stubbornly to Yue Qingyuan, locking him in dreams no matter what Mu Qingfang tried. 

In the end, there was only one solution left. 

. . . Shen Qingqiu was going to eviscerate him.

---

“Are you telling me,” Shen Qingqiu hissed, all but vibrating with poorly-disguised fury, “that the only solution is to sleep with him?!” 

“Dual cultivation with a suitably powerful partner, yes,” Mu Qingfang replied evenly, smiling as if he wasn’t sweating bullets. The other Peak Lords, summoned for an update on their sect leaders’ condition and now attempting to melt into their chairs to avoid Shen Qingqiu’s rapidly building wrath, happily avoided eye contact. Liu Qingge had probably zoned out two sentences into the meeting. 

Shen Qingqiu tilted his chin up, both dismissive and derisive all at once. “You have access to resources of the most powerful sect in the cultivation world, and the best you can give me is dual cultivation.” 

Mu Qingfang did not flinch. It would’ve been a near miss, but Shen Qingqiu’s now obvious affection and concern for Yue Qingyuan had diminished his wrath to the hissing of an overprotective kitten and also Mu Qingfang was probably running on a few too many days without sleep. So he said, “Unfortunately, yes, that is accurate.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes locked onto him. Several tense moments passed. Shang Qinghua, several chairs away and not at all involved in the action, was nearly purple with stress. Finally, Shen Qingqiu stepped back, drawing his anger into some secret part of himself until nothing was left but a cold, cruel elegance. “Well! How far the majesty of Cang Qiong Mountain has fallen.” His lip curled into a sardonic sneer. “If I am ever cursed and the only solution is to sleep with my unconscious corpse, then just slit my throat and put us all out of our mistry.”

Somewhere in the back of the room, somebody mumbled, “Please.”

Shen Qinggqiu’s teeth clicked together. “Mu-shidi,” he said, in the same voice that made Mu Qingfang’s disciples piss themselves, “Surely there are some books on my Qing Jing Peak that you haven’t yet looked over. How can you make a diagnosis when you haven't done all the research yet?”

Mu Qingfang considered slamming his head onto the table. Unfortunately, he doubted that Shen Qingqiu’s mood was permissive enough to allow such dramatics. 

. . . it was never permissive enough to allow such dramatics. 

With the pleasant smile of a man who had definitely already read every single relevant book on Cang Qiong Mountain, he said, “I suppose I may have been remiss in my responsibilities. Zhangmen-shixiong’s condition is in no danger of worsening, and so there is no harm in further examining what information we have.”

Shen Qingqiu’s smile might as well have been fanged. “Good. I will drop them off as soon as possible.” With one last glare at the rest of the Peak Lords, he turned sharply on his heel and strode from the room in a flurry of green silks and danger.

Shang Qinghua sagged into the table. Qi Qingqi snorted and patted Mu Qingfang on the shoulder. “Good luck with that one, Mu-shidi.”

Mu Qingfang carefully did not stop smiling.

---

He waited until he was safely alone in his workshop before slamming his head on the table. It didn’t solve anything, but it did technically give him several seconds of shut-eye and that was better than nothing.

He was interrupted—once again—by the sound of his door violently slamming open.

“Shen-shixiong,” he said, peeling his face off his desk.

“Mu-shidi.” Shen Qingqiu sat down next to him and folded his hands neatly in his lap, deceptively demure. “Is dual cultivation really the only way to cure Zhangmen-shixiong of his curse?”

Mu Qingfang peered at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeves. They didn’t look very full, but there was no telling how many books the man had shoved into them. “There may perhaps—” Theoretically, possibly, somewhere. “—be other alternatives.”

Shen Qingqiu tilted his head down in acknowledgement, but his eyes never left Mu Qingfang’s. “But this is the best solution.” He didn’t wait for a response before adding, words crisp and only mildly colored by the revulsion he’d displayed in the meeting room earlier, “Dual cultivation with a suitably powerful partner is the best solution.”

“Yes,” Mu Qingfang said, not even bothering to summon his usual smile. It was what he’d already said in the meeting, after all, and Shen Qingqiu wasn’t looking for his smile anyways. 

Shen Qingqiu’s lips turned white as he pressed them together. He didn’t speak, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that he was waiting for something. 

Mu Qingfang had absolutely no idea what. If anything, all he’d learned from this entire affair—beyond the surprising effectiveness of sleeping curses—was that he could not read Shen Qingqiu whatsoever. Here he was, pale and tense and snappish for a man that the whole sect was convinced that he hated. 

“Would—” Shen Qingqiu began, before stopping and scowling at the wall. “Would. My cultivation level. Work.”

“Oh.” Mu Qingfang wondered if he should even bother being surprised anymore. At least this was one thing he’d already known about his Shen-shixiong: he was an absolutely abysmal communicator. “Um.”

Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks colored, and he quickly said, “Not that I want to do this. But Zhangmen-shixiong deserves better than some brute like Liu Qingge, and there’s hardly a wealth of cultivators powerful enough to match him. So excuse this lowly one for his flawed foundation, but—”

Ah, what?! Mu Qingfang had not asked for any of this??? Hastily, before Shen Qingqiu could ramble himself into changing his mind, Mu Qingfang said, “Shen-shixiong, you are one of the most powerful cultivators in the world.” There was a reason that he’d been able to last as long as he had in duels with Liu Qingge in their youths. “You would absolutely, ah, work.”

Shen Qingqiu’s fan opened with a snap. It did little to hide the redness of his face. “Ah. Well. Good.”

“Right,” Mu Qingfang said. 

They stared at each other. 

Shen Qingqiu bristled, shoulders tilting upwards again, and Mu Qingfang realized abruptly that he was about to get eviscerated if he didn’t leave very, very soon. Quickly, Mu Qingfang exclaimed, “Well! Good. I’ll take my leave first, to allow you and Zhangmen-shixiong your privacy. You know how this works?”

“Of course I know how this works!” Shen Qingqiu yelped, too indignant to maintain an even tone. 

Mu Qingfang smiled. It was perhaps his first genuine smile since Qi Qingqi had absconded after dumping Yue Qingyuan’s body in his arms. “Good. I’ll leave Shen-shixiong to it, then.”

Before Shen Qingqiu could figure out how to stop spluttering, Mu Qingfang gathered his things and quickly vacated the premises.

---

Well. He supposed that was one way to do things.

---

Yue Qingyuan was up and about by the next day. Any assumptions Mu Qingfang had had about Shen Qingqiu wanting to be private about his affairs were quickly dashed. Yue Qingyuan walked into the next Peak Lord meeting with, ah, marks visible high enough on his neck that his collar couldn’t cover them, and he seemed utterly incapable of keeping his eyes off of Shen Qingqiu. 

Shen Qingqiu ignored him as usual, but Mu Qingfang was sitting close enough to see that they were holding hands under the table.

Which. Great. Excellent. Exactly what Mu Qingfang wanted to see at every sect meeting for the rest of his life.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Liu Qingge said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mu Qingfang protested. 

“No, it absolutely is,” Qi Qingqi said glumly, “I can’t believe we have to watch Zhangmen-shixiong making bedroom eyes at Shen Qingqiu every single month.” 

Mu Qingfang put his head on the table. Maybe if he just ignored everything, it would all go away. 

“Did you see them yesterday?” Qi Qingqi continued, “They were wearing matching outfits.”

Shang Qinghua, inexplicably, shot Mu Qingfang a strange gesture with both thumbs sticking up. “Nice.”

“No,” Liu Qingge said.

“Absolutely not,” Qi Qingqi agreed.

[ao3 link]

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

The Gift - o2

He’s back! 

CW: Intimate whumper (nonsexual but they’re... well they’re kinda a lot) creepy whumper, asphyxiation, bruises, collars, defiant whumpee

[Masterlist]

They walked in and paused. Little o2 was curled up on the rug, right where they had left him. His eyes were closed, mouth cracked open in a hopeless draw for air. 

It would always be hopeless with the tight collar around the boy’s throat. 

They hummed happily and stepped over him, content to leave their pet for just a moment longer. After gathering what they needed, they returned and crouched down next to his head. With a soft hand, they lifted the boy’s head, cricking his already bruised and abused neck. Distracted, they palmed it side to side, watching the skin bend and warp. Beautiful. 

“Hey there little o2. You awake in there?” 

His eyes fluttered open, red and unseeing. He didn’t sleep anymore - couldn’t afford the risk. If he fell asleep, he might stop breathing. 

And no matter what, he didn’t want to die. 

“There’s my good boy. You know you are, right? My good boy?” 

It was only the barest of twitches, but it was still the twitch of a scowl. They smiled at it, happy that spark was still there. 

It was honestly more fun that way. 

“And you’ve been so good I’ve decided to give you a treat. Do you want to know what it is?” 

O2’s eyes were starting to glaze again, chest jittering. The angle was torture, restricting the already tight space left in his airways. They rolled their eyes and let his head down. Annoying. But at least he was still entertaining. 

The boy wheezed in a little breath, eyes still fluttering closed. It was impossible to fight back, impossible to do anything but suffer at the hands of the person who wanted to watch. 

“Your reward,” they continued, petting back his hair, “Is five minutes. Five minutes without your collar. Doesn’t that sound nice?” 

There was no response. 

They sighed once again and went to undo the collar. They knew they had been cutting it close, but really this was a little dramatic even for him. The bruises were beautiful, dark and pigmented. 

The color. The color was like nothing that could be replicated with pigments or paints. It was so raw, so unique. No other way to get them, no other way to see it besides taking someone to the brink of death and pulling them back. It was more than just a rare color - it was the representation of power. 

There was nothing like it. 

A moment later, Kenji gasped brokenly. He coughed, racking his entire body. The way he curled to protect his throat was totally unconscious, totally out of his control. Natural instinct trying to protect the vulnerable parts of him from the predators that surrounded him. 

Still enjoying the broken sounds he made, they stood to give him a moment. 

Kenji wheezed and gasped, clawing at the ground. Full breaths of air made his head spin, feeling dizzy and weightless even as he pressed into the fine rug. It hurt, everything hurt. His neck was a constant throb of pain, lungs burning for air. He coughed again, fists made and pressing in. 

But even through the pain, his vision was starting to come back. The door, he could see the door. Like always, it wasn’t even locked. It was slightly ajar - mocking him. He pulled his head up from the ground, staring at it. It was so close, a foot or two, and he’d be out of this room. Out of this house, away from this inhuman monster. It was so close. 

But he couldn’t stand. He tried, oh how he tried, but he couldn’t. His legs were jelly, arms fully unable to lift him up. For a moment it seemed it would work, almost to his hands and knees, but his arm gave out and Kenji went crashing back down. 

“Cute. It’s all very cute. But really o2, don’t you want to be happy here? I could make you happy. I could make you feel good.” They stalked over, standing over him. Easily, they put their foot down between his shoulder blades and pinned the weak boy to the ground. 

He coughed and grit his teeth. “*Fucking bastard,” he spit out hoarsely. 

They smiled. 

“Oh, how I do love your voice like that. Shame about the choice of words, but you’ll learn. Or maybe you won’t - doesn’t matter to me.” They released him and sat on the backs of his thighs. With a hand snaked under his shoulder, they pulled back his chest until he was nearly sitting up. He tried to struggle, tried to pull away, but it was pointless. 

“Bastard. You’re a miserable excuse for a human. You deserve nothing,” Kenji spat, breathing faster while he knew he still could. The person behind him hummed and gently wrapped a hand around his throat. The slightest pressure hurt It made him whimper and writhe. 

“So cute when you’re fired up. But really, much cuter when you’re still and limp for me.” 

A belt looped around his chest, directly under his armpits. Kenji struggled, of course he struggled, but it still tightened. 

One wasn’t so bad. 

Another a centimeter lower was … doable.

A third made it hard to breathe. 

The fourth constricted his lungs even further. 

The fifth was the worst, feeling like it would snap his ribs. 

He cried out at the last one - or at least tried to. There was just no air, no way. Every exhale made more room, more slack that would be ratchet away. Kenji tired to keep his chest full and expanded, but it was impossible. 

He had to breathe. 

They slowly tightened the straps, using a little tool they had made just for this exact reason. Not too tight of course; they didn’t want to snap any ribs. But enough. Enough that the spine couldn’t flex, the ribcage couldn’t expand, the lungs couldn’t work all the way. 

“Fucking…. Bastard….” Kenji whispered, barely able to hold himself up anymore. His shoulders hit the ground and he shuddered. No, no no not again. He couldn’t do it again. 

A hand pet through his hair gently, already enjoying how he wilted without air. They leaned down close to his ear, close enough to feel their breath. 

“I have some friends coming tomorrow. They’re very excited to meet you.” 

Kenji squeezed his eyes closed and grit his teeth. No, he could do this. He had to. 

He had to live to punch the bastard in the nose.

~

@milk-carton-whump @bumpthumpwhump @mysticwhump @whump-it

[melk917]

ooooh 7, 15, and 37 from the fic writers list?

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Slow & Soft:

He hums, lips curling into a hint of a smile, and he reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, gently tugging you back down to him. You go easily, lips just brushing as he murmurs, “Breakfast can wait. There’s something else I want first.”

The kiss is soft, unhurried. You bring a hand up to cup his face, thumb stroking the stubble on his jaw and he opens for you easily, tongue curling against yours with a sigh. His fingers trace nonsense patterns on your skin and you settle more completely against him, seeking out more of his skin against yours.

He’s unguarded and open, still half asleep, body responsive to your touch as you lightly run your nails down his side, making him shiver and exhale. He curves around you, legs shifting, tangling, drawing you as close as he can. He takes your mouth again, deep and languid, kisses dripping like warm honey, sweet and slow.

I was proud of this because I felt I was able to show how soft the moment was vs. saying it. And I quite like how the descriptions came out. More poetic than my usual filth.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Ohhhhhh. Oof. Well. Ok, I guess The Full Ratchet? It has the most story (or will when it's finished). Some porn, but mostly story. Lol the rest are basically porn, so... of those maybe Dirty Talk or Window Sex?

But really, probably The Full Ratchet.

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lol, well. Chapter 2 of the Full Ratchet for sure. And then a host of ideas for Kinktober. All the other Full Ratchet Universe fics. The Lawyer Club Sandwich (Sonny/Rita/Rafa/Bryan) with @lannister-slings-and-arrows...

Chapter 2 of the Full Ratchet will include both Rafa and the reader doing some digging on each other, and her laying out the approach to the research for the case. He's begrudgingly impressed, she thinks he might have the chops to back up the arrogance...

Some kinktober ideas: sexting (Rafa and the reader from The Full Ratchet), toys (the reader finding Rafa's stash)... and many others

Well... and the rest are too numerous to list! Ha. For better or worse.

[vvanini]

whats your favorite obscure hc about each of the losers?

Fucking perfect thank you

1- Mike he reads books or articles like “how to understand woman”, “why women like jerks”, not because he wants to woo woman or is a nice guy or anything but just because he thinks it’s interesting

I don’t think he’d date anyone

Gives great dating advice tho

Reads manga Likes Junji Ito

“The manga/book was better” kind of guy

I don’t know why but I feel like he’d be this ENTP-ish dude who likes to gather information about a lot of useless things and likes to debate He likes film and game theories Watches MatPat for sure

Also he likes The Walking Dead and… zombies in general

Also I’m sorry but he likes Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson

He likes grindhouse movies and appreciates the gory details but is chill about it Likes cinematography in general

Watches video essays about movies

2- Richie

Unlike Mike, Richie isn’t chill about gory details and whenever someone gags while watching a movie he goes “You think that’s disgusting??? Lmaoooo that’s nothing.”

He’d be the type of guy who brags about being immune to disturbing shit

Google searches include “top ten disturbing movies of all time” “scariest movies ever” “movies worse than a serbian film”

Still likes pink guy and thinks Joji is a genius

Unironically loves the song “I Love Sex” by Pink Guy and listens to it at least once everyday

Uses Discord a lot

Always starts studying on the last day

I think he’d like history

Not like Mike tho, he just likes textbook history and world wars etc

Plays Hearts of Iron and League of Legends

Also :) he likes to code

he is a Linux >>>>>>>>>> Windows kinda guy

Likes breaking bad

And Rick and Morty

Understands politics really well

His music taste is… anime opening songs

Evangelion especially

Likes science fiction books

Pretends to be a flat-earther/conservative/anti-vax for the meme

3- Ben

LIKES BACKSTREET BOYS

and boy bands in general

he is old school and still carries an mp3 around

Doesn’t use spotify, he illegally downloads songs like a champ :D

Likes story rich games

Especially RPG’s. He really likes Planescape Torment and Baldur’s Gate

Kinda lame about women, like he hears Jordan Peterson say something like “the eternal image of the divine feminine” or some shit like that and he goes “wow poetic. agreed”

Doesn’t read “How to woo women” books like Mike but thinks about it a lot that’s for sure

Likes Audrey Hepburn

And Steinbeck

Saves different versions of the same song to his mp3. “The Less I Know The Better but you’re crying in a bathroom” “The Less I Know The Better Slowed & Reverb Listen With Headphones” “The Less I Know The Better Nightcore”

Shares playlists with Eddie

ALWAYS. ALWAYS waits for the person who’s tying their shoes

He notices if someone is walking behind the group alone and walks back to accompany them

If no one laughs at your joke, he does

Bleached his hair once and regretted it immediately Writes poetry in his free time and makes Stan proofread it

Into psychology

Hands always in pockets

Probably owned lots of lego sets as a kid

People go to him for dating advice because he is seen as this “romantic guy”, I mean he is but he gives terrible dating advice

4-Stan

He likes geography

Literally knows all the flags in the world and all the capitals

Blindfold him and give him a country name, he can show you exactly where it is on the map

Also he plays those google earth games where you get a random location and try to find out which country you’re in/ or try to find the nearest airport

Also I feel like he’d like planes a lot

Idk he just likes things that fly lol. Birds, planes etc.

Likes to read classics

LOVES H. P. Lovecraft

carries little poetry books with him everywhere and reads them he’s so cute

Dark academia is his aesthetic

Can play the piano

Likes to read Ben’s poetry :D

Dark humor

His ringtone is Le Festin :)

Has an instagram account but never posts, just watches people’s stories

Very photogenic tho.

He’s a man of culture. He likes visiting aquariums and museums

Hates zoos tho, thinks it’s evil to cage animals

Also I don’t know how to explain it but… He just likes to decorate his place? Like to the clubhouse he’ll bring stuff he likes and just quietly claims a corner as his own and make it as comfortable as he can

Has...beautiful hands

you know how some people cut the cothing labels because it irritates the back of their neck? Stan does that with everything he buys

5- Eddie

Likes Backstreet Boys because of Ben

Replies to texts immediately. Communication and social interaction gives him serotonin

I have no idea why but I feel like he’d have an obsession with Tekken and his favourite character is Ling Xiayou

Big fan of classic playstation games. Loves Spyro, Crash Bandicoot and Ratchet and Clank

He likes wearing long sleeves under t shirts

Listens to emo music, stares out the window and imagines scenarios matching the song he’s listening to

He considers MCR to be emo btw. Loves G note memes

Likes astrology

Can’t watch horror movies, and gets teased by Richie about it

However he likes media that is presented as funky/funny/happy but is actually depressing/disturbing

He likes courtroom dramas

Wears sunglasses indoors for no reason

Probably likes fallout and metro games

Has a collection of finger skateboards

#weirdcore #oddcore #nostalgia #grunge

buys and wears random college sweatshirts

Hates and loves study groups, hates it in the sense that he can’t focus on anything and just wants to hang out and talk, loves it in the sense that he CAN hang out with his friends and talk

Romanticizes everything

6- Bill

Has lots of taurus energy and is sleepy all the time

Has major Leonardo DiCaprio in The Basketball Diaries vibes

Dresses effortlessly

And likes basketball lol.

He just has… boy energy. If that makes sense. Boy next door

Likes to draw his friends

posts his drawings on Instagram

Has lots of OC’s but doesn’t know they’re called OC’s, just refers to them as “this character I created”

He likes being praised a lot ngl

His taste in memes is very similar to Richie’s

You know how they put a random word on top of a random image and it doesn’t make sense at all. He laughs at things like that. Like Richie sends him something like this:

ME WHEN I WHEN

[image of monkey]

BOTTOM TEXT

and he thinks it’s funny and loses his shit im sorry

Like someone sends a picture of Keanu Reeves to the groupchat and texts “g” and he thinks it’s funny???? He sees a picture of a cow in the backrooms and starts choking

He memorized every line in Boneless Pizza and can quote it wihtout stuttering. Like he would be sitting alone talking to himself saying shit like “ya pizza. Watchu want. 2 liter machine broke we got one liter tho. fuck you mean B.”

Never answers calls? Doesn’t like talking on the phone. He just has “Don’t fucking call me when you can text!!” energy

phone is always on silent mode

doesn’t do anything but attracts people anyway

7- Bev

Likes musicals

Theatre kid

Chews gum a lot

And swallows them :(

Likes cottagecore

Buys notebooks with cute covers but can never fill them so she just gives them to bill who turns them into sketchbooks

I think she’d give advice or reaussure people in a way that sounds kinda rude but isn’t really? Like she tells it like it is. Blunt

Likes Avatar The Last Airbender

Sense of humor is:

[Picutre of the fox from Zootopia]

why is he hot help 😭😭😭

wears baggy clothing + long skirts

[falling-pages]

I'm Sorry but your writing is so captivating that I had to jump on your prompt list if I could. What about "I can’t go back, please...I’m sorry." For Hikaru x Haruhi ? 🤧💜

Yes!! Thank you for the angst inspo 😈

(ask list closed)

"I can't go back, please, I'm sorry."

-

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

-

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, heavy on comfort

-

WARNINGS: This contains trauma, ptsd, nightmares, and memories of kidnapping and abuse. Please read with caution.

-

Silver manacles around her wrists, clanking cold against her skin. Darkness over her eyes, ratcheting up her sensitivity to every sound. Wetness blooming against her side, pain leveraging through her head, the slaps from brutal hands and kicks from unyielding feet. The thunderstorm brewing outside her cage. And the horrific, never-ending voice of the man who tormented her.

Scream as loud as you like. It won’t help.

You didn’t think he’d come for you, did you?

He has prettier and richer playthings at his disposal.

Do you really think you’re worth such a high price?

You’re mine, now, doll.

Haruhi’s eyes flew open in tandem with her scream, staking the night’s silence with her terror. She fought against the silk sheets tangling her limbs, cried as loudly as her voice would allow her. Even sitting up didn’t help, the heavy comforter trapping her in bed, and the silence choked her throat, splitting the oxygen straight off until she couldn’t breathe, clawing for anything, something, a liferaft before she drowned.

“Haruhi!”

Her fiance bolted upright, hazel eyes shining in the moonlight. They shared her terror as he grabbed her shoulders, the weight forcing air back into her lungs. She wrenched her eyes back shut--she couldn’t look at him, not when the face of her kidnapper still flashed in her vision.

Shaking, she grabbed his shirt, fisting the soft material to ground herself. He took the invitation to wrap his arms around her, watching as she buried herself in his chest, inhaling that sweet scent of home.

“Hika,” she wept, staining his shirt with tears and his heart with fury.

Hikaru swept his hands through her hair and down her back, detangling with one while rubbing circles with the other. Her cries were beyond gutteral, beyond desperate, straight up inhumane, and they tore as much at his soul as they did at her throat. It had been nearly a month since her rescue, and even though she had made much progress in therapy, she could barely hold onto her humanity when the nightmares struck.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, drawing shapes along her shoulder. Her skin rippled with goosebumps, warm from his embrace, but foreign. “Remember what the therapist said. Cling to what makes you feel safe. The nightmares will pass.” He grit his teeth and she clutched him tighter, snuggling further into the warmth and safety of his neck. “That man can’t touch you. He will never touch you again, I fucking swear.”

It was a bad idea to mention him, he knew, but his anger surged through his body and choked a growl from his throat. Even the memory of finding her, chained up like a dog in a cage, dirty and malnourished and blindfolded, evoked an anger so deep within his core he wasn’t sure if it were entirely human. But then again, that man certainly wasn’t, and Hikaru felt his anger justified.

Not strangling the man on sight was the only shred of mercy he could manage.

“Listen to my heartbeat,” he suggested, guiding his beloved’s head lower down his chest. He rubbed behind her ear, a soothing weight to counteract her spiraling feeling. Following what the therapist suggested, he straightened his posture, making himself as big as possible for her to cling onto. “You are so strong, my beloved. You’re going to get through this night.”

Haruhi only whined his name again, and he pulled her closer, completely onto his lap and settling her legs. She shook like she was going to fall apart, like she had before; it was his job to ensure that she never would again.

“You’re alright,” he continued. “You’re safe. You’re in our bed, in my arms. Safe and warm. Nothing can get to you here.” He smiled, kissing the top of her head. “You’re so strong and beautiful, baby. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. You’re gonna be okay.”

She sniffled, and her voice was barely detectable from his chest. “I can’t go back, I can’t go back, please…”

His heart squeezed. “He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s in prison, and he’s going to stay there for a very long time. There’s no way he can hurt you from there. You don’t have to be afraid, baby, you’re never going to go back there. You’re safe here.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she whispered. “He said such awful things, Hika, and I believed them, I...I believed him, I didn’t think you’d come…”

“Shhh, Haru. None of that.” He propped her up to look at her, so she could see the truth in his face. The broken moonlight reflected in her doe eyes, making silver the unshed tears welling within. He held her gaze, waiting for her to be back in the right headspace, before continuing. “Everything that man told you was a fucking lie. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no mountain I wouldn’t climb, no ransom I wouldn’t pay.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, calming her as she shuddered. “I would pay ten times what he asked to make sure you were okay. The nightmare is over, and you’re with me. You’re okay. I'm...I'm so sorry that happened to you.”

She groaned, holding onto him as another memory washed over her. Alone in the parking lot, loading groceries, the screech of car brakes, cold handcuffs around her wrists and and even colder hand over her mouth, restricting her screams. The cruel words whispered against her ear, the grating laugh as she struggled, the terror as they slipped the mask over her eyes. The wetness of a tongue stroking up her neck, biting the lobe of her ear, a voice whispering the astronomical price of her ransom and reminding her of the snaking words force-fed every moment of her captivity.

No one is coming to save you.

And then, a different voice, piercing through the darkness, stilling the hellish pace of her heart and thoughts.

Haruhi.

Haruhi, I’m here.

She looked back up at him, intimidated but comforted, as he spoke words of gentleness and love. His long fingers stroked her hair and drew patterns against her back, stars and hearts and even his own name, over and over again:

Hikaru. Hikaru. Hikaru.

She was safe, she was his, and she would never have to face that bastard again.

-

Kofi