#inevitability fic

[eggdrawsthings]

When does a man become a monster? And is he a monster, still, if he  feels nothing but regret and guilt?” [x]

[keferon]

“Mistakes on mistakes until” ch 69 spoilers below!

Ahahahahahahah here I go again

Mistakes on mistakes until until I can draw Jazz with my eyes closed

I woke up, checked my phone, woke up for real and decided that whatever plans I had for this day yeah no they can wait a little bit kfkgnfk

Also. Consider listening this while reading. Or don't who am I to tell you what to do~

[dukeofthomas]

Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.

[f1-stuff]

Miami GP '24 // Thurs Interview

"Happy to be racing in these historical colors for Ferrari, and happy, you know, to have a bit of a different vibe this weekend. Always good fun."

[hinamie]

So remember me in a softer light

[k8katdoodles]

RAGBRO GHOST HUNTERS! 👻👻👻👻

[tangledinink]

:000 happy one year of i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now?

[baeshijima]

u know what would be a cool genshin fic idea? isekai/transmigrated reader, but instead of appearing within the general timeline, you come into the genshin world 500 years prior to the start of the storyline in khaenri'ah.

honestly it could be either a little before the cataclysm, giving enough time to delve into some relationship building + explore some world building with characters like dainsleif, traveller's sibling (which would probably be lumine bc i actually do like her as abyss sibling & aether as traveller), and npcs like halfdan (still crying over him to this day ;w;) and possibly the khaenri'ahn royal guards (assuming you either join them or have a good enough relationship with them), OR it could be you appear during the crisis, completely and utterly lost as to why you were brought amidst the chaos and bloodshed as you watch everything you barely knew about this nation crumble before your very eyes.

either route will still result in reader's existential crises and constant "why am i here? just to suffer?" monologues because really, who would be fine after going through that after coming from /our/ world? and not to mention you've had to endure the next 500 years wandering with no real set path because you don't know this world— this era of teyvat or of genshin. you're merely stuck, unable to die, and forced to live a life of uncertainty with no clear direction for you to go to.

despite it all, you've at least been able to see dain during this course. while your meetings pass far too quickly for your lonesome, and his solemn demeanour is something you're yet to be accustomed to after having been with him before the fall of khaenri'ah (assuming it's the route where you appear before the cataclysm), you're glad to see a familiar face every now and then. after the messy departure with the lumine who left for the abyss order, you've come to appreciate his quiet presence more and more each time.

and then you decide it might be time to settle. you soon realise it's difficult to do so when your lifespan has become far more than that of a human's — of a mortal's — and so you find yourself becoming used to staying in one place for a few years before setting off for the next. rinse and repeat. over and over. it's come to a point where you've witnessed the nations undergo various changes each time you visit. you know change is inevitable, and yet your heart stings each time you witness it; a testament to how the world is ever-changing, yet you're stuck in place as a bystander.

one thing you're grateful for, however, are the bonds you've established amid your back-and-forth over the centuries. from archons like zhongli and venti to long-life beings such as neuvillette and the adepti to regular mortals who have showed you kindness as if one of their own... you've grown to cherish those memories, often reminiscing them when the nights get too long and surroundings too quiet. it was difficult at first, and still is, but you've become used to the inevitable change and the passing of those you once knew.

and after 500 years, you find yourself face-to-face with one you haven't seen since before you appeared in this world; the protagonist of this world, and the one you eventually join in hopes of finally finding a means to an end, aether.

little side notes/extras:

from /our/ world, you would probably know the storyline from up to around current (5.0) or maybe a little after the fontaine aq conclusion. it gives a lot to work with, but you definitely won't remember a lot of the lore after so long other than some main events, especially since most of your knowledge is pretty irrelevant for the next 500 years,,,

i think it would be cool if you had an inteyvat on your person as a little homage of khaenri'ah, which may or may not invoke some opinions from certain characters (*cough* aether immediately being reminded of lumine and having an existential crisis *cough*)

post-cataclysm you would go through a, uhm, long phase of helplessness, wondering why you were even brought to this world so far back if you couldn't even make any contributions. it does eventually morph into a resolution to do what you can to help those you come across if it's within your capabilities, but the nightmares and helplessness come back every now and then as a reminder for what you can't do :D yippee :D

honestly i'm on the fence whether you would have a vision or some other type of abilities (think on the similar lines of aether/lumine's and dain's), but i think having some type of purification mechanic would be a must in your arsenal !! would definitely lead to some moments between you and characters like dain or zhongli who suffer from the erosion as you give them a slight reprieve from what rages within and corrodes them

a little self indulgent, but i'd like to think your first /proper/ meeting with zhongli happens during a lantern rite festival, wherein you're admiring the lanterns in the sky after making a wish of your own and he comes up from behind with "they're beautiful, wouldn't you say so?" and !!

also as for love interests, as much as i would love for human/mortal characters, a part of me feels like this story would be better suited for the immortal/long-life characters as love interests?? idk i feel like considering that 500 years is, well, a long time, the bonds you would have with them compared to characters like, say, alhaitham or diluc would be way too different ?? though i would definitely still add them as love interest bc i am a sucker for so many of the human characters ;w; it would also add to the angst and hurt/comfort ahahha...

anyway thank you for reading this massive brain dump of a fic bc i absolutely would put this as a long term project, and if u made it this far then i would like to say that dain solos—

[cry-ptidd]

who hurt his feelings >:(

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 17 — dust — 1279 words aka soft, mushy, fluffy jegulus on beach vacay<3 (harry is there too and he’s being super stinking cute)

James lifts his head from where he was picking sand out of Harry’s eyelid crease when Regulus turns aggressively on his beach towel for the nth time since Harry and he had come over to get this one’s water bottle.

“You okay there, love?” James asks as Harry gulps away noisily.

“No,” Regulus cries out, sitting up abruptly. “I’m sunburned and dehydrated, my head hurts, I am itching all over because of whatever stupid fucking insects keep biting or stinging me, I can feel sand in my ass crack and,” Regulus heaves a pitiful sigh, “and there’s dust all over my favorite sneakers.”

There’s a vein throbbing in his temple that James itches to smooth out, kiss away.

It’s been a risky step, going on vacation together with Harry and Sirius, the four of them, just a few weeks after Regulus and James had started exploring that little thing of theirs. When longing glances exchanged turned into brushing hands and snuggling closer on the couch turned secret, cautious kisses and whispered confessions.

And now Regulus is flushed and his voice is all whiney and James knows it’s an inappropriate thought right now but he just really wants to help Regulus feel better again. Take his face into careful palms and slowly snog him breathless until he can’t think of anything else but James and feeling good.

James is about to open his mouth when Harry, who has witnessed Regulus’ little outbreak, suddenly dumps his water bottle back into James’ lap and waddles right over to him. James’ toddler reaches for Regulus’ hand, petting it, watching him carefully out of big eyes, “Take a deep breath, Reg’lus.”

James promptly melts into the sand and Regulus’ expression, as well, softens in an instant. A weak chuckle slips out of him and then, following Harry’s advice, he takes a big inhale. His cheeks puff when he blows it back out and James thinks he’s pretty sure Regulus is the most adorable adult person to ever exist. Adult because no one can beat Harry when he gets going.

Harry nods, satisfied, and then runs back to the water where Sirius is waiting on him.

“There you go,” James murmurs, grinning, when Regulus takes another steadying breath.

“You,” the younger man throws him a half hearted glare out of stormy eyes, “piss off.”

James scrambles himself up out of the sand, opening his arms slightly, “C’mere, love.”

Regulus’ eyes soften, get all dewy and needy, but they also keep darting back and forth between James and the others by the water. Like he wants it so badly but won’t let himself have it. He shakes his head feebly, “We can’t.”

James clicks his tongue, opening his arms wider and wiggling his fingers, “Shut up—yes, we can. Come here.”

Regulus pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, hesitating, “But…”

“I said, shut up and come here, Reg.”

Regulus huffs, like it’s an utter inconvenience to get up and get hugged but he does so anyways. He shuffles the few paces over to James and then lets himself thunk against his chest, weakly slinging his arms around James’ waist.

James can’t help but muffle a snort into the curls behind Regulus’ ear at the dramatics. He closes his arms around this one’s shoulders, softly raking short nails of one hand up and into his dark hair.

“You’re laughing at me,” Regulus grumbles against James’ shoulder, squeezing around his middle in reprimand.

“No, I would never,” James replies immediately. He lets his fingers dance gently over Regulus’ sunburned skin and feels him sink into him even more. James hums happily at that response, kissing the side of his head.

Regulus’ breath hitches and a warm feeling piles up in James’ chest, tingling all the way into his fingertips where he’s still touching the younger man.

“You smell like salt,” Regulus says, his tone accusing, “And you’re all sandy.”

James cups the nape of Regulus’ neck and pulls back to look at him, “That’s what typically happens when you’re on holiday at the beach.”

Regulus’ pout morphs into a sneer and James’ grin widens. “Feeling better?”

“No,” Regulus replies, not missing a beat. His hands are still linked at the small of James’ back. He really thinks he’s so clever, huh?

James raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Regulus’ nose scrunches, “Perhaps a little bit.”

James ducks closer again, pushing a curl that tumbled its way deep into Regulus’ forehead back again, “Let me tell you something—”

Regulus heaves another sigh. “Oh, great.”

James goes on, undeterred, “Why don’t we grant ourselves a little off-day tomorrow? Harry and Sirius can run around the beach all day or visit that reptile house again and we make ourselves all comfortable in the air bnb.”

Regulus blinks at him, that hopeful yet apprehensive look in his eyes. James knows he’ll give in though eventually and he can be so patient for Regulus. He lets his hand slide forward and thumbs at Regulus’ bottom lip.

And then James has to work hard to trap a groan behind his teeth because Regulus parts his lips so pliantly, not moving, just letting James do his thing. It makes James’ blood pump faster, high on all those ecstatic feelings, fondness and desire and something much more deep rooted that James hasn’t let himself think out loud yet.

“All day?” Regulus whispers, lips moving under James’ finger and breaking his train of thought.

“Yeah, love, all day,” James confirms.

Absentmindedly, it seems, Regulus fumbles around with his hands at James’ back.

James purses his lips, “Are you nervous?” Of course he’d love to hang out with Regulus all day but not if that’s something he isn’t comfortable with yet.

“No, no,” Regulus shakes his head, bringing his hands around between them with a frown, “I’m itchy.” He’s scratching at a red spot right below his wrist, one of the many insect bites.

James coos quietly and he gently wraps his palm around it, lifting them. He places a gentle kiss, watching intently as Regulus’ eyelids flutter, frown magically gone. God, how is James supposed to behave around him? It’s a wonder he’s been able to reign himself in for so long in the first place.

“Y’know,” James grins against Regulus’ reddened skin, “They say saliva helps sooth the itchiness of insect bites.”

A small noise slips from Regulus and James’ grin sharpens.

“What?”

“Oh, you heard me, love,” James replies. He gently massages the ball of Regulus’ palm with his own thumb, watching as this one keeps staring back at James stupidly. He’s so cute. “Any objections?”

“James,” Regulus breathes, swallows roughly.

Slowly, James lifts their hands again, peering at Regulus intently in case his breathlessness turns from excited to apprehensive. But it doesn’t. All the way up to James’ mouth and then James is collecting the spit from under his tongue and letting the dollop drop right onto the patch of red skin.

Regulus sucks in a breath upon the landing and James can’t help but hum deep in his throat. It’s like Regulus renders the polite and logical part of his brain completely useless, instead activating a much more different and distinctly primal part. A part that thinks it’s a good idea to do stuff like spit on Regulus and rub it into his skin until it’s spread expertly.

“Okay, yes,” Regulus says suddenly.

James blinks in confusion but Regulus isn’t done yet apparently because he goes on, nodding dazedly, “We’ll have an off-day together. The…two of us.”

A bright smile creeps itself onto James’ face. He steals himself a quick kiss from Regulus’ cheek, watching his blush deepen as James announces, “Happy to hear that.”

[spooksier]

somebody at rq must’ve finally gotten my letters. having an antagonist archivist and making it so the way it kills is by trapping someone in their worst fear then making them fucking narrate it while they die is so fucking metal and it works so well by (1) making so we as the audience don’t really know what it will/can do next even with us knowing what an archivist is and (2) recontextualizes archives in a really fun way. imagine if jon had been able to do that. imagine how quickly he would’ve gotten his ass kicked anyways

[justafewsmallsteps]

Okay, time to guess what’s up in Chapter 3 of Inevitable! Is Kagome reminiscing? Is Inuyasha walking her through their honeymoon threshold? You wish. It’s a slow burnnnnn.

(I profusely apologize for pose’s anatomy. Let’s pretend that I’m an anti-AI soldier who is ‘purposefully’ messing with the algorithm.)

[puraiuddo]

༺JazzProwl Fic Recs༻

— brought to you by puraiuddo -

This is by all means not a complete list of banger JP fics! It's my personal favorites—those fics that lodged themselves in my brain for one reason or another and never left.

Hopefully this list satisfies at least some of the sudden influx of interest for JP fics (and given how well rec'ing a fic turned out last time...) But, nah for real, not to make rec'ing fics fake deep or anything, but I think the fandom would be a better place if people were more unapologetically enthusiastic about fics and less afraid to interact with authors. So if you use this list to find some fics you have to promise to leave some unhinged comments! ٩("•̀ᴗ•́")و ̑̑

But before I start, I want to acknowledge the prevalence of potentially stereotypical depictions of Jazz in regards to his speech (❞), criminal/violent/sexual characterization (▾), or backstory/origins (⟲) in the JP/TF fandom. I've attempted to flag fics with the corresponding symbols above, because I'd like to recognize those problems while still rec'ing for a variety of other fantastic qualities. That said, I'm not infallible so please use your own discretion.

I've also tagged fics with "hiatus" if it's been a while between updates, but the author hasn't made a comment—these fics are especially important to interact with, b/c you never know if the author stopped posting b/c they weren't getting any reviews!

Now, without further adieu...

༺♡❦♡❦♡❦♡ -ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ- ♡❦♡❦♡❦♡༻

༺JazzProwl-centric༻

Mistakes on Mistakes Until— by jabberish

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 280,212 - Alt-War AU』

Ricochet's got a bad case of conscience and he's pretty sure it's about to get him killed. (aka I think I've read every defection/ex-Con au and now I'm forced to make my own. Jazz-centric.)

* (づ ᴗ _ ᴗ)づ♡ The crème de la crème of JP fics. I really can't properly articulate the sheer amount of love and respect I have for MOMU other than that if you haven't read it, your life is worse for it. Go read it. Then read it again. Now. (I've read it 4 times. No, I'm not joking) I love all the fics on this list dearly, but MOMU holds a very special place in my heart. Flawless characterization, flawless dynamics, flawless plot, one-of-a-kind writing style... it's got it all. Of note: I've not flagged it despite its premise, because it will expertly subvert your expectations and you need to read it to understand. Bonus: it's got a lot of well-deserved fanart!

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Untitled Series by Need2Scream

『(2/?) - ffn - Words: 158,064 - War AU - hiatus』

Where the Lonely Ones Roam - 116,327

"Say you have a little faith in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. Need to have a little trust in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. To where the lonely ones roam." Eventual Prowl/Jazz

Spark - 41,737 - hiatus

"Chase you deep into the unknown. In my dark, in my dark, you're the Spark."/ "Roam with me, come down to where all of the others fell. Get lost, in the dark to find yourself. Just remember what I said, 'cause it isn't over yet."/SEQUEL to Where the Lonely Ones Roam

*It's not clear by the summary, but the series is essentially about Jazz and Prowl's developing relationship as they overcome war-related trauma, intermingled with a spectacular amount of original lore. See the author's ffn bio for a rundown. The originality and attention to detail in the world building in this AU is awe-inspiring. There are 2 fics in the JP series, but the author has a bunch of other Gen fics set in the same AU and another on ao3. Bonus: some of the Gen fics are Jazz & Prowl-centric and can be read as romantic!

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Crime in Crystals Series by Aard_Rinn

『(7/?) - ao3 - Words: 258,030 - Crime/Hitman AU - hiatus - ▾ ⟲』

The Hitman - 6,942 - pt 1

Prowl is the last clean cop in Praxus, the final flickering light in the darkness. There are plenty of people who would like to see him snuffed.

2. The Clarification, 3. The Kill, 4. The Capture, 5. The Prime, 6. The Talk, 7. The Chase 8. TBD

*The main plot is broken into 7 separate fics, but it's all one continuous story. Read the whole thing! It's on my all time favorites. It's thrilling, tremendously action packed, and the character dynamics are some of my favorites. It's also hysterical and wholesome and I've reread it a stupid amount of times. Bonus: it's got fanart + there are 5 extra fics, including a Jazz-centric prequel, in the same AU.

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War Eternal Series by Hearts of Eternity

『(3/4) - ffn - 2m? idk it's insane - Bayverse War AU - discontinued - ▾ ❞ ⟲』

Where You and I Collide - 362,090 - prequel

Separately, Jazz and Prowl are like forces of nature- they are uncompromising and uncontrollable. But what becomes of their natures when these two unstoppable forces collide? Will one break the other, or will they both be stronger for it?

As We Come Together - 485,586 - pt 2 - Gen

While the surviving Autobots begin to flock to Earth in response to Optimus' call, trying to find a new home on the strange organic planet called Earth, some unfortunate bots are beginning to realize the price of war may have been too high. Sequel to Time

May We Never Let Go - 408,409 - pt 3 - Gen - d/c

Hell literally lies in wait above Earth as the Cybertronians and Earthlings coexist uneasily, rattled by every attack the Fallen and his master launch on them. With new evil rising, the powers that be on Earth and beyond are gearing up for war.

1. As We Come Together, prequel 2: Surface of the Sun

*Long, convoluted explanation coming up given that this series is obviously a whole different beast compared to likely any other fanfic series you or I have ever encountered in our lives... b/c the author is just superhuman or smth idk...

The series is officially listed as 4 parts (WYaIC, WTWHL, AWCT, MWNLG). Where You and I Collide is the JP-centric prequel to the other 3 Gen fics (that have substantial background JP). WTWHL is technically part 1 of the series, but it's sorta more character-focused ficlets than a continuous story... which is why I didn't specifically list it as a rec even if that makes things more confusing... (ᵕ¬ᴗ¬) Also the author didn't list Surface of the Sun as part of the series, but it's a direct prequel (like WYaIC) starring the Lambo twins and it's... oh it's so good... absolutely shatters my heart that it's been d/c'd.

I've not listed an exact world count, b/c if you want to read every bit of the AU with all its prequels and offshoots (which I would highly recommend and have done)... I'm not gonna do the math for you, sorry. The main 4-part story is ~1.7m+ which I realize is frankly insane and extraordinarily intimidating, but it is so sooo sooooo worth it. The author has created their own fully fleshed out TF world with its own lore and characters and the time and effort they've put into is mind-boggling .

Anywho, despite ultimately being d/c'd, the series is still tremendously readable and nothing about JP is left feeling unbearably unfinished. I also happened to track down the lovely author and beg for a summary of the ending, b/c I'm a bit of a freak and they very kindly provided it so if not knowing how a fic ends bothers you/prevents you from reading, you have the option of getting closure even if you can't have it written out.

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Fathomless by Sroloc_Elbisivni

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 19,949 - Fantasy AU - complete』

Jazz is drowning on dry land on the other side of the world. Once upon a time, before Jazz was born, the Rust Sea covered a swathe of Cybertron bigger than the territory of any city-state except Iacon. The sea had been more powerful than any engine besides the one at the heart of the planet itself, big enough to swallow a metrotitan in its depths, the birthplace of storms. Thing is, none of that was Jazz. He doesn’t remember those days, before he was himself, except in his dreams. And his dreams are terrifying.

*This fic makes me feel some type of way... it gives me shivers. It's so eerie and the premise is so unique. It's also beautifully bittersweet, which is a hard concept to pull off.

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The Judge by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 107,653 - Alt-War AU』

Prowl’s got a secret, and he’d rather be dead in the ground before he let anyone find out about it. Jazz’s got one too, but he’s not as good at hiding it. Prowl is a secret superhero, Jazz is a secret fanboy who doesn’t know that he works with the guy. By night Prowl is the virtuous hero The Judge, but by day he’s just an unassuming tactical officer.

*Jazz and Prowl are sorta painfully adorable in this fic and the JP is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Plus it's got a really fun premise with lots of shenanigans.

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Black on White on Black Series by pipermca

『(3/?) - ao3 - Words: 86,248 - fix-it, War AU - complete』

Anamnesis - 31,097 - pt 1

When Jazz and his team are lost on a mission, Prowl has to carry on alone. But a discovery a thousand vorn later could turn his life upside down again.

2. The Ghost of the Howling Plains, 3. Pulling Strings

*Super interesting sorta-kinda-fix-it fic and/or explanation for the events and characterizations in IDW. There are 3 stories in the main JP plot line. Bonus: there's 2 "Extras" fics for cut scenes from the main fics.

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Crystal Ghosts Series by Rizobact

『(2/2) - ao3 - Words: 85,688 - Fantasy AU - complete - ⟲』

Enduring as Crystal - 40,517 - pt 1

There were a lot of reasons Prowl visited the library. He never knew the most important one was waiting for him in the garden behind it.

Eternal as Love - 45,171 - pt 2

Prowl promised he would help Jazz, the ghost of the crystal chapel in the garden behind Praxus' central library. He just couldn't anticipate what shape that help would wind up taking.

*Another super unique premise! I love a good historical mystery and the imagery is specularly evocative! And I'm a sucker for the trope... which I can't reveal, because of spoilers.

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Untitled Series by Vaeru

『(2/2) - ffn - Words: 10,766 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Descant - 7,925 - pt 2

G1/Jux compliant. Requiem sequel. Prowl doubted that his desired image of Respected Superior Officer came across very well with a half-scrapped mech clinging to his hand, but he loomed as best as he was able and glared.

*Requiem is Jazz-centric and I'd say more of a prequel to Descant than Descant is a sequel to Requiem... if that makes any sense. Regardless of how you view it or what order you read it, it's fucking brutal. (-‿-“) Bonus: author also wrote another really great fic called Transformers: Juxtaposition which is Lambo twin-centric and OC-centric, but perhaps one of the only OC fics that I've ever enjoyed.

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Domino Milkshake by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - (1/?) - ao3 - Words: 24,886 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Jazz drunkenly pretends that he's dating Prowl. Only he isn't, and the mech is right behind him.

*It's a fake dating AU... what more can I say? I love the the begrudging developing romance and the meddling friends. Bonus: it's got fanart!

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Hunter's Spark by WandersUnderStarlight

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 43,645 - Alt-War AU - ❞』

Jazz disobeys orders to abandon the ruins of Praxus and runs into one of the Senate's dirty secrets.

*This author also has a few more JP fics that I enjoy like An Offer He Can't Refuse and Long Patrol. I gotta offer aisclaimer though: the fics are... fairly cliche and a bit OOC. Hunter's Spark is much more tame than the other two, though. They're all sorta a guilty pleasure of mine, because it's fun to enjoy Prowl being a bit of a BAMF and Jazz being a bit of a damsel on occasion even if objectively I understand why it's not everyone's cup of tea. ("￣▽￣";)ゞ But the author definitely deserves credit for creative and entertaining premises and a really nice writing style!

༺☆★☆★☆★-ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ-★☆ ★☆★☆༻

༺General༻

Little Brother by Meiza

『oneshot - ffn - Words: 64,542 - War AU - discontinued』

Prowl is infamous for being a logical, nigh emotionaless thinker who's better at battle calculations than interpersonal relationships. How he was roped into taking care of the last survivor of Praxus is anyone's guess.

*Prowl & Bluestreak centric, but Jazz has a solid amount of screentime. The subplot is pre-relationship, co-parenting JazzProwl and it's cute as hell. It's not 'officially' discontinued, but it hasn't been updated since 2010... so... At least it doesn't end in a cliffhanger. (╥﹏╥|||)

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Things We Don't Tell Humans by SineadRivka

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 363,057 - Bayverse War AU - complete』

This was a first for us Autobots; never before have we come in contact with a species like these humans, so eerily similar to our own race and twice as tenacious as Sparklings. The question was, how far can we trust the humans with our culture? Some things have translated between cultures without much effort. Other subjects, however…

*Please note the tags! Also... I'll be honest that I mostly skip to the JP parts and main plot points in this fic as it's about a very ensemble cast and I'm not interested in TF humans ... so I can't entirely vouch for the integrity of the whole thing. (￢ω￢;)

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Echoes of Messatine by MlleMusketeer

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 303,863 - Alt-War AU - complete - ▾ 』

Cybertron hurtles toward war, and only a handful of mecha see it. Not Megatron, whose inflammatory writings gain him agonizing attention from those on high. Not Ratchet, the Iacon Medical Center’s most prized practitioner, whose Dead-End clinic remains the worst-guarded secret on Cybertron. Not Overlord, whose iron hold over Cybertron’s underworld is beginning to falter. Not Orion Pax, whose concern over the sudden silence of one of his favorite writers drives him to take up his hero’s pen. Not Terminus, who only wants to survive. But Trepan and Senator Shockwave both know well what’s coming. One aims to use a defiant miner’s fall to crush the aspirations of the masses. The other wants to use that miner’s triumph to ignite them. Neither much cares about Megatron himself, or his ultimate survival. Therein lies their fatal error.

*Not clear from the summary, but the premise is essentially "what if Megatron got the matrix instead of OP" and how their pre-war lives would have to pan out for them to ultimately switch roles. Just a really fascinating, supremely well-done "what-if" fic, but also probably the weirdest one to put on this particular list, b/c JP turns into megatron/JP at the very, very end... but... I just kinda ignore that development since it happens in like almost literally in the last chapter and you can def read it as friendship up until that point... (¬⤙¬ ᵕ)

༺☓○☓○☓○☓○-ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ-☓○☓○☓○☓○༻

༺Mature༻

*listen... don't @ me. They're definitely saucy, but they're not explicit. Yada, yada... hey minors, don't read these! ...But we all know you will so just don't talk to me or anyone else about it, cool? Cool. (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

Intermission by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 5,049 - War AU - complete - ▾』

As the war stretched on for interminable vorn, Prowl found himself faced time and again with the mounting stress of his position. Many of those times he was forced to face alone, the gear grinding stress sending him to Ratchet for system overhauls and forced defrags. But every so often he'd be fortunate enough to have Jazz on hand, and when he did, well, it didn't take much. Pressing Jazz up against the wall, cramming him into corners, pinning him facedown over Prowl's desk. It didn't matter as long he could keep Jazz still.

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Audition by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 12,783 - War AU - complete - ▾』

If one were to be delicate, one would say that Jazz and Prowl are incompatible. The blunt truth? 'You just lie there with this blank expression on your face,' he'd been told by his last partner. Signal had stayed longer then most, willing to try since Prowl was so obviously doing his best, interfacing to please his partner and give him what Prowl himself disliked. In the end, though, it hadn't worked. 'You don't like me touching you, you don't like the mess, you don't even like the overload, and half the time I swear you're running economic simulations in your CPU you look that bored. I don't want that. I don't want you miserable, and I don't want me miserable, either.' So why can't Prowl stop wishing?

༺♡❦♡❦♡❦♡ -ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ- ♡❦♡❦♡❦♡༻

That's all, folks.

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ω-)✧ ~Happy reading!

and for the shit tumblr search/tag system, i offer: #jazzprowl #jazzprowl recs #jazz x prowl #jazzprowl fic recs #jazzprowl fanfic recs #tansformers fic recs #tf jazzprowl #tf fic recs

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter eight | wc: 5.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah go to couples therapy. Noah and Lia spend a cozy evening in her studio. Reading time: 22mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: therapy, talks of mental health, ptsd, anxiety, insecurities, self-doubt, mentions of parents' neglect, abandonment, mentions of medication and lia's overdose, mentions of lia's abusive relationship with mitch, mentions of alcohol intake, talks of sex, implied sexual scenarios that include oral sex (female receiving) and protected sex. The rest is pure fluff, noah and lia being totally madly in love with each other and being supportive of each other's works. There's blindfolding going on in this chapter but it's not in a sexual scenario. If I'm missing sth, let me know. The therapy scene took me ages to write.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Have you found any hobby; any activity that helps soothe your anxiety?”

Lia processed Dr. Reynolds question, thinking back over the past few days: rejoining her long-missed yoga classes, meeting Emery for coffee on Thursday, catching up with the BO crew to discuss tour logistics and merch-related stuff, drawing, packing for Japan…

After a brief pause, Lia replied, 

“Sex.”

As soon as the word left her lips, her face flushed. Sitting next to her in the other armchair, Noah remained still, his eyes wide in surprise at her response, though he didn't look directly at her. His cheeks were tinged pink as well.

Dr. Reynolds immediately noticed their reactions, especially the way Noah quickly avoided eye contact.

“Okay, there’s no reason to feel embarrassed,” she reassured them, raising her hands slightly from her desk, which separated her from the young couple. “Sex is something totally normal and natural, and it’s great for our mental health and well-being.” She waited a few seconds until she saw Noah’s shoulders relax and Lia let out a sigh. “Tell me, Lia, how do you feel when you’re physically intimate with Noah?”

Lia raised an eyebrow while still curled up in the armchair.  

“Mentally, emotionally,” Dr. Reynolds clarified, a genuine soft smile on her lips.

“Umm,” Lia’s mind wandered to their first time—both drunk and needy for each other. She remembered it had felt good, but she didn’t want to dwell on that night, since it was followed by the worst weeks of her life. Instead, she thought about the last few days, about every time Noah had covered her with his body or laid her down on the sofa, his face sinking between her legs. She had never put into words how it felt, aside from when Noah asked if she liked what he was doing to her, or the previous night, when she’d been sitting on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, and he had asked if that posture felt good. She had breathlessly muttered in his ear that it did, “it feels so good, Noah.”

“It feels good,” she started. 

Better than that. But she didn’t feel comfortable enough to say to her therapist the same she’d told Emery two days ago when they’d met. “It feels like everything’s okay. I feel loved, and I feel safe.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded in understanding. Her dark brown eyes shifted to Noah, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“What about you, Noah?”

Noah cleared his throat.

“Uh, I—”

Fuck. Did he really have to talk about it to that woman? It was hard enough to put into words what he felt, let alone say it out loud to a stranger. Still, he wasn’t there just to sit comfortably in that chair, listening to Dr. Reynolds and Lia’s difficult answers. He was there to communicate. Lia had made the effort, and his heart had fluttered when he heard her say how loved and safe he made her feel. The least he could do was the same.  

He replayed images from the day before in his mind: her skin against his, the way she wrapped around him, how warm she felt, the look in her eyes when he flipped them both so he could be on top, thrusting deep inside her.

“It feels like….” He swallowed, avoiding direct eye contact with the therapist. “I’ve always felt that something was missing, and… After things got better between us, I… I felt complete.” He wasn’t talking only about sex. “I feel utterly happy when I’m with her, not just for myself but for her, too. I know I was… I know I am making her happy.” 

Well, that sounded cheesy as fuck, Noah.

Dr. Reynolds gave a gentle nod.

“I think it’s clear that you and Lia have a deep connection. Would you say it’s been like this since you first met?”

Grateful for the shift in topic, he answered quickly. 

“Absolutely,” he said, with certainty. He’d been fighting everyone from the very beginning to show the world that no one knew Lia like he did. Therefore, no one could take care of her the way he could. 

He expected Lia to echo his response, but her mind was somewhere else.  

“I feel so guilty,” she began, directing her words to Dr. Reynolds. “I’ve loved him since I was a kid. All those times I scared off his girlfriends, I was being selfish and a coward. Then, Mitch came and…” she sniffed but held back tears. “I’ve… carried this fear with me my whole life. A fear of never being enough, of not deserving love. I know I always had Noah, but even when I did, I was convinced that it was all some cruel joke, and that as soon as I finally had him, life would rip him away. I couldn’t bear that thought. So, I buried my feelings, blocked them out; I forced myself to believe it wasn’t real, that I wasn’t in love with him. I told myself for months that it was just infatuation, that he had bigger things to focus on and worry about. The band has always meant everything to him and…”

“That’s not—” Noah started, but Dr. Reynolds raised a gentle hand to quiet him. 

“I kept pushing him away, again and again. I know I hurt him. I know he loves me, but the guilt is suffocating. I’ve put him through so much.”

Dr. Reynolds listened intently, her eyes calm and steady, letting the silence linger after Lia’s words. It was a weighty silence, one that felt like a deep exhale after too many years of holding it all in. Lia’s hands trembled slightly in her lap.

 “That weight has always been there,” she continued through clenched teeth. “I’ve always sabotaged things before they could go wrong, merely because I was convinced they would go wrong.”

Noah shifted beside her. He wanted to reach out, to hold her hand, but the heaviness of the moment kept him still. He hated hearing her talk like that, as if she was the villain in their story. He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her she didn’t need to feel guilty, but something in Dr. Reynolds’ gaze made him hold back once again.

“Lia, what you’re describing is a fear many people experience when they’ve been hurt before or when they deeply value something. We’ve talked about this, remember? It’s called self-preservation. You and Noah have been friends since you were kids. You’ve been attached to him most of your life. He’s been your constant, so it makes sense you’d fear losing him. That fear made you protect yourself, even when there wasn’t a real threat.”

Lia swallowed, her eyes glassy as she fought back tears. 

“But I pushed him away. I hurt him when I should have trusted him.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded. 

“I understand. But what’s important now is recognizing that your feelings of guilt are part of that same fear. You’re punishing yourself for something that, at the time, you thought was the right thing to do. You didn’t want to lose him, and pushing him away was your way of safeguarding your heart.”

Noah’s jaw clenched. He had been so frustrated with Lia over the years, but sitting here now, listening to her talk about her fear of losing him… he realized he understood that fear all too well. 

He wished she could see what he had always known, that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Lia turned to him, her voice breaking.

“I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”

He leaned towards her, her shoulder almost brushing hers. 

“You were never a burden and you know that,” Noah said quietly. “I’ve always wanted you around. You make me happy. You always have.”

Dr. Reynolds leaned back in her chair, giving them a moment to let that sink in.  

“Lia,” she said after a short while”, I want you to delve deeper into that fear. Do you think it's why you've always stopped yourself from doing certain things? Like telling Noah you loved him?"

Lia hesitated, her breath catching as memories flashed through her mind.

“Yes,” she exhaled. “Everything has been because of fear. Deep down, I always knew I loved him, but I was terrified of what that meant. If I admitted to myself that I was in love with him, with my best friend, everything would change. And… if I let myself love him fully, the risk of losing him would become real. I couldn’t handle that.” She made a pause to take a deep breath. “I fough hard to convince myself it was just infatuation—that it wasn’t as deep as it felt; that I just wanted to be the center of his attention because he was so perfect. But I was lying. It was love. I knew it the whole time, and that scared me more than anything.”

Noah felt his heart tighten in his chest. She had been carrying that fear the whole time, while he had been waiting—always waiting—for her to believe he wasn’t going anywhere. 

He reached out, his hand resting gently on hers.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “But I’ve spent so many years convincing myself that loving you was dangerous—that as soon as I let myself have you, I’d lose you.”

Dr. Reynolds kept on jotting down notes on her notepad before speaking again. 

“Lia, that’s a common reaction when someone is deeply afraid of loss. You never had a paternal figure, you mother didn’t provide you with the care and attention you deserved. Then, the people closest to you—Noah’s grandparents— also moved away. You mentioned this not long ago, right? When Noah’s grandfather passed away, his grandmother decided to return to Japan, and you felt that as a loss, too, as a kind of abandonment.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Lia said, her posture stiffening, discomfort creeping in as if she didn’t like the truth of it. “But I couldn’t stop myself from feeling it that way. Then I only had Noah... and I guess my attachment to him grew even more.”

“Of course. It makes sense, Lia. You’ve loved Noah since you were merely a kid—first as a friend, then as something more—so much that you feared the very thing you wanted most: being with him. But now that you’ve faced that fear, it’s important to remember that love isn’t something you need to protect yourself from.”

Dr. Reynolds let the words settle between them before leaning in, her gaze moving between Noah and Lia.

“Noah, I think you’ve been carrying your own set of feelings for a long time, too. While Lia was dealing with her fears, you were facing a different struggle, trying to support her. Isn’t that right?”

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the familiar knot of tension there. He didn’t love talking about himself—he never did—but he knew today wasn’t the time to hold back.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’ve always felt like I had to prove myself, even with her. I’ve always been scared of not being enough for her. Like, maybe one day she’d realize I’m not this perfect guy she thinks I am. And, I guess that fear made me hold back sometimes, too.”

 “You both have been trying to protect each other in different ways—Lia by pushing you away, and Noah by trying to be perfect. But what’s clear is that the connection you two have, the love between you, has never really faltered. Even when you were afraid or apart, you didn’t let go.”

Lia wiped a tear from her cheek, processing the Dr.’s words. She turned to look at Noah, who was watching her with an intensity that made her heart ache. Without a word, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to make you feel like you had to prove yourself.”

Noah shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re together now. We’ll figure this out—together.”

Dr. Reynolds leaned back, her gaze warm and understanding. 

“Both of you have been carrying fears and doubts for a long time, but you’re both ready to face them—together. Your connection, this love, is strong enough to handle the uncertainty. You’ve already proven that.”

Lia wiped at her eyes, nodding. The guilt hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it had loosened its grip. She wasn’t alone in this, and that was enough for now.

Dr. Reynolds shifted slightly in her chair, her expression softening as she turned her attention to Lia. 

“Lia, I want to acknowledge the progress you’ve made. You’ve been through an incredibly tough journey, not just emotionally but physically as well. The abuse you suffered in your previous relationship, the trauma from your childhood—growing up without a father and with a neglectful mother—those are heavy burdens. And on top of that, you’ve struggled with your relationship to medication.”

Lia glanced down, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. That was going to be a long day. She was sure the moment she got home, she would collapse into bed, terribly exhausted. The weight of everything she’d gone through still felt fresh at times, and talking about it was like watching it play on a TV, or worse—reviving it. 

“The meds did help at first,” she explained, “but then I got lost in them. I was dependent on them, and I started taking more than what I was prescribed.” Her voice quieted, as if confessing. Dr. Reynolds already knew, but she had told Lia a few times how important it was for her to verbalize it until it didn’t trigger her anymore. “I was using them to escape.”

 “That overdose was a wake-up call,” Dr. Reynolds said. Noah winced at the mention of it. “But what matters is that you’ve taken steps toward healing since then. You’ve made a brave choice in deciding to taper off the medication, and even though it’s not easy, it’s clear that you’re managing much better now, especially with the positive changes in your life.”

Lia’s gaze flickered to Noah, who gave her a reassuring smile. 

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “The withdrawal was terrible at first, and I didn’t think I could handle it. But things have been different… better since Noah and I started working things out. Being with him, in a healthy way, makes me feel like I don’t need the meds to be okay.”

Dr. Reynolds smiled warmly, her eyes filled with encouragement. 

“You’re taking control of your life, Lia. You’re moving away from dependency, both on the medication and on the emotional crutches you once used to cope with all the pain. And that’s an incredible achievement. You’re learning to rely on healthier mechanisms—your relationship with Noah, your art, and most importantly, yourself.”

Lia felt a lightness in her chest, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. The meds had numbed her for so long that she hadn’t trusted her own emotions or ability to cope without them. But now, without that fog, she was starting to feel everything—both the good and the bad—and it wasn’t as overwhelming as she’d feared. 

“I still have bad days, but… I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore,” she said quietly. “Noah helps, but I think I’m helping myself, too.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded, pride evident in her expression. 

“That’s exactly what I want to hear. It’s not about never feeling anxious or sad again—it’s about learning to face those feelings without needing to numb them. You’ve proven to yourself that you can. And having a supportive partner like Noah is a huge help, but ultimately, the strength you’re finding is coming from within you.”

Noah’s hand tightened around hers. She wasn’t fixed, but for the first time in years, she didn’t feel broken either. She was healing—slowly, but surely.

Dr. Reynolds closed her notebook. 

“Keep going, Lia. You’re on the right path. You’ve come a long way, and it’s clear you’re capable of even more. The fact that you’re doing this—getting off the meds, facing your fears, building a healthier relationship with Noah—it’s all a testament to your resilience. You will get better.”

Lia nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips. For the first time, she believed it.

As they stood to leave, Noah slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

Once out of the elevator and onto the street, Lia hurried toward the car, eager to get home. But before she could, Noah grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, and without a word, leaned in and kissed her deeply, ignoring the people passing by and the noise of the street around them.

When he pulled back, Lia was breathless, her wide eyes gazing up at him, a spark of something new and beautiful shining in them.

“Whatever happened—whatever will happen—I don’t care. We’ll face it together. I’m not letting you go, Lia.”

She wanted to say, I’m not letting you go, either, but the words wouldn’t come. She was too awestruck by his closeness, overwhelmed by the love she felt for him and the weight of everything that had surfaced in therapy. So, instead, she just stared at him, her heart full.

Standing on her tiptoes, she grabbed two fistfuls of his hoodie and kissed him back, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the kiss. After a few moments, Noah pulled away, looking down at her with a soft intensity.

“Lia, am I clear?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He gently tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned down for another kiss, this one soft, reassuring. When he finally pulled away, he took her hand in his.

“Let’s go home. That was exhausting.”

A week later 

Every couple of minutes, Lia would push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, only for it to fall back into place again. She was sat cross-legged on the floor, her sketchbook balanced on her knee. Her pencil moved in quick strokes, pausing every so often as she bit her lip in concentration, only to resume with a renewed burst of energy. 

The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm streaks of golden light across the studio floor that reached the other end of the room, where Noah was sitting at the desk, focused on the apps open on his laptop and on Lia’s iMac. 

He’d brought over two mugs of hot chocolate earlier, one of which still steamed next to her on the floor, while his sat neglected on the desk. They had spent most of the morning out of the house—Noah had gone to the gym and then had met the boys at the studio while Lia had gone to one of her yoga sessions, then had met Emery at a nearby Starbucks. In just three days, they would be flying to Japan for the Bad Omens tour, followed by a well-deserved two-week rest at Grandma’s house, in the outskirts of Tokyo. 

Noah’s mind had started to feel mushy in the last thirty minutes. Growing distracted, he stole a glance at Lia, watching her as she worked. Her focus, the way she’d push that same strand of hair away from her face, the way her brow furrowed... Eventually, feeling his mind grow too fuzzy, he stood up, muttering something about needing to wash his face.

When he returned to the studio, Lia was in the same position, still immersed in her sketching with her back towards the door. Without saying a word, Noah walked over and sat behind her, sliding his legs around her body as he leaned in close. Tempted, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss in her hair. Then another one further below. And another one right below her ear. Lia squirmed in his arms but kept her pencil moving.

“Noah,” she mumbled, her lips curling into a half-smile, half-protest.

He didn’t answer, trailing another slow kiss down to the nape of her neck. Her shoulders tensed, then relaxed, a small laugh escaping her. 

“Stop,” she said, though the warmth in her voice betrayed her, as well as the way she titlted her neck to give him more access. 

“You’re not really convincing me,” he teased, brushing her hair aside to kiss the curve of her neck.

Lia twisted in his arms, still trying to focus on her sketchbook, but the pencil faltered as she squirmed again. She laughed, turning her head slightly to glance at him. 

“You’re such a distraction.”

“Guilty as charged,” Noah grinned, wrapping an arm around her middle and pushing her flush against him. He was practically caging her with his body. 

Instead of reaching for his own mug of hot chocolate still sitting on the desk, he lazily grabbed hers, taking a sip.

“Hey! That’s mine,” she protested.

“Yours is closer,” he replied with a shrug, taking another sip before handing it back to her. “What are you working on?” he asked, glancing over at her sketchbook.

Lia flipped through some of the pages, her pencil resting between her fingers. 

“I’ve been sketching ideas for Grandma’s garden,” she said, her voice soft with affection. “You know how much she loves that garden. Last time we were there, I planted some peonies and lilies around the trees by the entrance, remember? I’m thinking of adding more this time.”

Noah leaned closer, peering over her shoulder as she traced her fingers along a delicate sketch of flowers winding around a tree.

“I’ve been imagining how it would look if I added some kiku or fuji seeds. Chrysanthemums and wisteria,” she explained, her eyes lighting up. “And I was thinking… maybe we could place some traditional statues around, or even build a tiny pond.”

Her voice trailed off as she flipped to another page—a rough outline of the garden, filled with plants she had already painted with soft strokes of watercolor. The colors in the drawing—deep pinks from the peonies, pale purples from the lilies—looked almost alive, like they were already blooming.

“Look,” she said, pointing to a part of the sketch where she’d blended purple hues for the wisteria draping from a branch. “I’ve been working on the colors, trying to match how they’d actually look in the garden when they bloom. I can see it in my head—how the sunlight would hit the flowers, the way the colors would change depending on the time of day.”

Noah’s expression softened as he gazed at the painted page. 

“She’s going to love that,” he said, setting his mug down. “And it sounds like a great excuse for us to check out those famous Japanese gardens you wanted to visit last time but didn’t get a chance to.”

Lia’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling as Noah added, “I could even sketch some ideas for the pond, maybe add some stones and other features if we get inspired by those places."

Lia hummed thoughtfully, inspecting her own designs.

“After the tour, we’ll have time to explore more traditional spots—temples, hidden gardens in smaller towns. We can start with the city’s chaos, then unwind in the gardens and parks. Once we’ve soaked in all that inspiration, we can start working on Grandma’s garden," Noah said.

A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned back against his broad chest, feeling the comfort of his warmth.

“I like that plan,” she admitted, smiling. “I’m excited for the shows, but I think I’m more excited about seeing Japan… with you.”

He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. 

“Me too,” he murmured. “And Grandma’s going to love whatever you do to her garden.”

They sat in a peaceful silence for a moment. The room was cozy, filled with the scent of hot chocolate, and Noah’s hand rested warmly on her stomach, his cheek brushing against hers tenderly.

Lia finally broke the silence with a mischievous smile. 

“I have an idea,” she said, untangling herself from his arms and standing up. Noah made a disappointed sound but didn’t question her, merely raising an eyebrow as he watched her disappear into the other room.

When she returned, she held something behind her back, clearly up to no good. Noah’s curiosity piqued.

“What are you planning to do with that?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice as she revealed a sleeping mask she’d likely grabbed from her half-packed suitcase.

“Blindfolded drawing challenge” she announced, playfully slapping his shoulder as she sat down in front of him.

Noah grinned, catching on quickly. 

“Hm. Not what I expected, but I’m intrigued. So, do I get to blindfold you?”

“Nah-uh,” she said, keeping the mask out of his reach with a smirk. “I’m blindfolding you. If you’re going to help me with Grandma’s garden, I need to check your drawing kills.”

“I’m an amazing artist, Lia, in case you didn’t know,” he said, puffing his chest in mock pride. 

“Let’s prove it then,” she challenged, eyes sparkling.

“I’m ready to show you the real artist in the room,” Noah replied, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a competition. 

Lia scoffed. 

“Keep your ego in check, Sebastian.”

Lia grabbed her sketchbook and flipped to a blank page.

 “Okay, mister. This is your canvas,” she said, placing it in front of him.

Noah sat up straighter, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as she stepped behind him, slipping the mask snugly over his eyes. Her hands brushed his neck, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. Noah’s grin widened.

“You’re not secretly trying to turn me on with this, are you?” he teased.

She leaned down, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Noah laughed. 

“Alright, alright. Just hand me the weapon of choice.”

Lia placed the pencil in his hand and sat back on her heels, watching as he hovered over the notebook with exaggerated focus. 

“Alright, Picasso, time to show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, here we go,” he declared, setting the tip of the pencil to paper. He started drawing—if you could call it that. His lines were uneven, jagged, the kind of shaky curves you’d expect from someone who had no idea what they were doing.

Lia bit her lip, trying to stifle her laughter as she watched the absolute chaos unfold on the page.

“Are you… drawing a person?” she asked, half-choking on her giggles.

“Obviously!” Noah said with mock indignation. “Can’t you see it? It’s abstract.”

“Sure, sure. Very abstract,” she teased, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing too loudly.

He added a few more crooked lines, lifting the pencil occasionally to think before continuing. When he was finally done, he sat back triumphantly, pulling off the sleeping mask. 

“And… voilà! A masterpiece.”

Lia leaned over to inspect the mess of squiggly circles and jagged lines. It vaguely resembled a potato with stick arms and what might have been a smile—or a grimace. She couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. 

Noah looked down at it and shook his head, feigning disappointment. 

“Okay, I’ll admit, it’s not exactly what I imagined.” He pointed to one of the misshapen blobs. “That was supposed to be an eye.”

Lia wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling. 

“Yeah, I think this guy’s been through something.”

Noah sighed dramatically. 

“I need your artistic genius to fix this. Save my poor little guy.”

Lia laughed again but nodded, taking the pencil from him. 

“Not from there,” he said, opening his legs and gesturing for her to come closer. “Come here.”

She nestled between his limbs, leaning back against his chest. Noah’s arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. The warmth of his embrace made her smile as she began to work, reshaping his scribbles into something recognizable. Her pencil moved, sharpening lines, smoothing out shapes, and adding playful details until Noah’s chaotic doodle turned into a quirky little character with a goofy grin and big, wide eyes.

Noah watched her, his grin softening as he admired the way her hands worked so effortlessly. The look of focus on her face, her gentle smile as she fixed his mess—it was moments like this that made him fall in love with her even more.

When she finished, she leaned back to admire their combined effort. 

“There. Now he’s got some charm.”

“You really are a miracle worker.”

Lia glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with playful pride. 

“I know.”

He reached out and gently moved that stray lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered, brushing against her cheek as his gaze softened.

“You’re amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and full of warmth.

Lia’s breath hitched just for a second, her heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at her. 

“So are you,” she whispered, leaning in closer.

Their lips met in a soft kiss, the warmth of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. It was a simple, quiet moment—the kind that felt like the calm before everything changed. In just two days, they would be off to Japan, diving headfirst into the chaos of the tour. But right now, in the quiet of Lia’s studio, it was just the two of them, savoring the comfort and coziness of the evening. 

When they pulled apart, Lia’s fingertips grazed the skin of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that had started to grow.

Noah’s voice broke the comfortable silence.  

“Have you thought about letting others see your work?” 

Lia frowned, her fingers halting, barely brushing his chin.  

“What do you mean?”

“I know you sell your stuff online through your site, but I’m talking about something bigger. Like an exhibition, or maybe an illustrated book? I could help with that. I could write the story—like I did for the Concrete Jungle comics—and you could do the drawings.”

Lia’s shoulders slumped as she considered it, her brow creasing in hesitation.

“I don’t know if I’m qualified for that, Noah.”

“Come on.” He shook his head, not buying her self-doubt. “Your work is amazing. Okay, maybe I’m biased, but have you seen how fast our merch sells—the merch that has your art on it? And every time you put something new up on your store, it’s gone in less than forty-eight hours.” 

When he noticed the hesitation still on her face, he extended an arm in the air, as if to grasp all the piled notebooks and sketchbooks she had stored on her bookshelves and drawers. 

“People need to see all of this, Lia.”

Lia’s brown eyes flickered across the room, her eyes landing on one of the bigger sketchbooks resting against a stack of Bad Omens vinyls.

“Some of them are really dark, Noah.”

“You don’t have to show the dark stuff if you don’t want to—even though darkness is part of life,” he conceded, shrugging his shoulders. “But everything else? Lia, you’re an incredible artist. The things you draw, the ideas you come up with… They’re fascinating, to say the least, and people love seeing fascinating things, whatever it is,” he poked her cheek to get her full attention. “And there’s already a bunch of people that love your art, starting with me and our friends.”

Lia stayed quiet for a moment, her brown eyes searching his, still uncertain but intrigued.

“I already have a lot of work with Bad Omens…” she started, though her tone was more reflective than dismissive.

“Is that an excuse? Seriously? Considering your “boss” is your boyfriend?” 

That made her laugh, easing the tension. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the warmth of his body.

“Wouldn’t you like that, though? To exhibit your work? Let the world see what you’ve got tucked away in all those notebooks?” Noah’s voice was low and sincere. “You could even write something, turn it into an illustrated novel or whatever you want.”

Lia looked up at him, and for the first time, there was a glimmer of real possibility in her eyes.

“Yes. Yes, I would,” she said, her voice filled with quiet honesty.

Noah’s excitement was imminent. 

“I can help you with ideas. Maybe I can doodle something and you can improve it if you ever feel stuck or…”

Lia laughed, nudging him playfully. 

“I think you should stick to writing. I’ll handle the art,” she said, picking up the notebook they’d been using and shaking it, the potato drawing that Noah had made still on the page.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, wrapping his arms fully around her, squishing her and prompting her to drop the notebook. “But you can’t deny this was the best blindfolded potato drawing you’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll give you that,” she said with a giggle as she felt his lips and nose brush her neck. 

Lia leaned her head back onto his shoulder, and they sat there quietly in the peaceful warmth of her studio, perfectly content just being wrapped up in each other. Noah began swaying them gently, side to side, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her. Outside, the sun had dipped lower, casting a soft, warm glow through the windows, wrapping the room in a golden haze.

“You fit perfectly in my arms,” Noah whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

Lia hummed contentedly, her heart full as she nuzzled her nose against his chin, tenderly.

“Because it’s where I’m meant to be.”

Noah’s heart swelled with something sweet and heavy, like warm honey filling every corner of his chest.

“Right answer,” he teased, before lightly tickling her sides, causing her to squirm and giggle in his grasp, but with no hope of escaping. He held her close, thrilled by her laughter, by the fact that she was his, completely and utterly.

He couldn’t wait to get on that plane and head to Japan, this time with her by his side not just as his best friend, but as his girl. The thought of them wandering through the vibrant cities and tranquil gardens together filled him with an excitement he hadn’t felt before.

He nibbled playfully at her earlobe before murmuring,

“Off to Japan in two days, baby. You ready?”

We're off to Japan in the next chapter, babes!! 🥳

— prev. chapter | chapter nine

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[samstree]

“Find me, he said. As if it’s that easy!” The Doctor huffs. “Do you know how mathematically impossible it is to find one stupid, self-sacrificing bounty hunter in all of time and space?”

The dust settles. Rogue smiles despite the bruise blooming around his eye, his face cradled by the Doctor’s hand. Gentle, unlike his words.

“Well,” he says, voice equally gentle. “You found me anyway.”

He catches the gentle hand and feels the shape of the ring.

“I was asked a question.” The Doctor glares. “It’s rude to not answer!”

Rogue kisses the ring—his answer, at long last.

(for @fourteeninafez who inflicted these two upon me)

[transgendercastiel]

see Annie and Troy both had the same sickness of “I base my personality and wants on what other people expect of me” however the difference there is that Troy got someone who accepted him unconditionally and didn’t care if he wasn’t “manly” (straight) enough. I think Annie Deserves an equally peculiar and verging on codependent relationship with her own “girl friend” (cough cough) that she can be equally gay and adorable about. In this essay I will-