#it's been a month and i thought it might help to say something

[mammalsofaction]

The Rizzler

Rating: M

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Jealous Perry, possessive Perry, Happy Valentines!, I couldn't help myself, rizzler Perry, human Perry, speaking Perry, hewt and Stemmy, 0-100 real fast like.

Perry might have been approaching this mission with a tad more undeserved aggression than necessary.

It's been…hard, recently. To remember that he and Heinz weren't in an actual relationship, and that this was for good reason. And Perry's pretty sure that whatever it was between them going unspoken, it wasn't one-sided. Heinz had a bit of a talent of talking without saying much of anything, and so within the last few years of their relationship Perry had learned to read the fine print: where his touch lingered, their eyes meeting seconds too long, the genuine enjoyment of companionship, not to mention the unabashed domesticity.

They were a thing, not that they said anything out loud. Not in so many words...so he. Forgets.

Heinz had always had a more active social life than Perry himself, say nothing of his attempt of a love life in the wake of his divorce. He'd always known Heinz to be...the more sexually active between the two of them as well. Sure, the dating attempts had cooled down significantly since they'd gotten close a year or so ago, but never zero, so every couple of months, he'd get lonely enough to try.

Case in point:-

"Gott, that is so unfair, Perry the Platypus," he complained, scowling. " That thing has a single charge every 12 hours, and my date is tonight. One blast-you don't even need any help, rizzing wise! You have plenty of rizz on your own!"

Perry scowls, wondering who in the hell had taught him that. Vanessa, probably, although Norm was going through a bit of an online phase right now.

The Inator had been small, portable; only a little bulkier than a full-size pistol—the barrel stubbier, but it was all in all about 5.5'' give or take—and so the wrestling that ensued had involved a lot more handsy and personal than usual. (Which was saying something.) There was that usual tension charging the unavoidable intimacy that entailed much of their fighting now, but Perry had spent most of his attention on how pissed be felt—pissed as he usually does, when he's forced to share in Heinz's attentions, when Heinz chose to be difficult, pissed over the fact that he had no right to be pissed, so he was pissed over the fact that he felt pissed in the first place, and finally. Pissed over the fact that Heinz would think that he would need a "Rizzler-Inator" in the first place.

It wouldn't matter with the right person, Perry'd thought to himself. Heinz was sweet, attentive, dedicated. He was a great cook and a wonderful father, and he was a little dorky—sure, but that simply added to his charm. The lilt of his Drusselsteinian accent was rugged, and Heinz was interesting, and he didn't need a fucking Rizzler-Inator to score a hot date when Perry was right there in the first place!

We digress.

Their usual game of cat-and mouse had taken them over an hour. Heinz docked him in the jaw, and Perry had slammed his head into a railing. By the time Perry'd tackled him onto the balcony and sat in Heinz's lap, the weather had gotten stormy and grey, minutes away from the storm the radio had announced this morning. (Which Perry only noticed due to Phineas and Ferb's verbal dissapointment, and Lawrence's gripe on why such a storm had to happen on Valentine's Day.) Heinz insistently had the nozzle pointed to himself, and looking back—the effect wouldn't even be permanent, much less any way harmful to the people around him. There was, of course, that small political risk of repeat events following the De-Handsome inator, but even that could be easily curbed.

Nevertheless, Perry was being paid to ensure even that slight risk would never come into fruition, and he was feeling particularly vindictive. The Inator is humming: that recognizable melody of a fully charged machine, and with a twist of Heinz's wrist and a roll of places—the trigger gets pulled, and Perry gets a faceful of Rizz.

Despite the weather, Perry feels warm, tingly. He blinks away the black spots in his vision just in time to tune into Heinz's tantrum. He's been thrown back from the recoil of the Inator—not excessively, but Perry still has to roll over a bit blindly to find the source of that familiar whining.

Above them, thunder rolls. The first drips would fall, and soon.

"Maybe I'd have to cancel anyway." Heinz was saying sadly. "The blind date events include barhopping, and a dinner picnic at Danville Park. It's a bust—Lord, why do I ever bother?"

Perry frowns, pulling his collapsible umbrella out of his hat. His heart aches: with guilt, yes, and not a little bit of shame, because Heinz hadn't even meant to hurt anyone. He just meant to give his own heart a bit of a reprieve, and the hypocrisy doesn't escape him: it is Perry who hurts him, and it is Perry still who soothes the balm.

Heinz is still sat on his haunches when Perry comes forward with the umbrella, and Perry makes sure Heinz's titanium fingers curl around the stem as it exchanged hands. An unspoken hold this.

"Wh-?" Said Heinz. "Did you have this when you came here?"

Once he ensured the hold was secure, Perry finds his hands move to cup Heinz's chin instead, initiating eye contact—deep and heated. It's bold. Almost too bold. But Heinz clamps up at the sight of it, his cheeks growing flushed.

"Let's get you out of the rain," Perry says, and it's… gentle. As gentle as he almost never allows himself to be. "Sugar dissolves in water."

That does it. Heinz's face explodes in a riot of color, and even as Perry guides him up, up, to his feet, inside he is almost frozen stiff in surprise of his own actions.

"May I?" Perry says, gesturing to the Inator still clutched in Heinz's hand, and he hands it over silently, almost timidly. Perry doesn't look as he to throws it over Heinz's shoulder (though he hears it break over the tiled floor), but when Heinz turns—outraged—Perry grips his chin firmly to bring his attention back to him. "Keep your eyes on me." He growls lowly, pushing Heinz back, back, under the shade of the lab, into the wall. Heinz gasped, for another host of reasons, and he abandons his grip on the umbrella when Perry hikes his leg over his hip, in order to curl his arms over Perry's shoulder. "Or I'll make sure you do."

Heinz's breath stutters, restarts, and they're pressed so close that Perry can feel him gulp. "Well," he said weakly. "Nice to see that the Inator works."

Perry hadn't even considered that. But then again, his mind is on greener pastures. All he knows is that he's feeling manic, hot, brave. Making sure that Heinz was still looking—and he was, too entranced to even think about looking anywhere else—Perry throws his fedora over his own shoulder. And with it; the built in body-cam attached to it's band.

Carl has seen a lot, but OWCA wasn't about to have anything to do with what he's planning to do next.

"I understand the weather has cleared the rest of your…evening, doctor?" Perry purrs, and Heinz whined. "I have suggestions with what we might do to pass the time…inside."

Heinz gulps again, heart beating. When he speaks, it's with a breathy stutter. "I-well, I'm-I'm sure we can fit you in."

Perry smirks. "I'm sure you can."

Denial moment

[alcoholfreenayeon]

perfect date night with mina

Kiss my troubles away

CW: Mina x Reader, fluff, slightly suggestive

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day to yall! This might not be the perfect date night but I feel this is something Mina might do and I haven’t posted in a while so this is something I did a bit quickly and it’s not going to be one of my best works🙂‍↕️

You and Mina look outside the window as it thunders and rain’s relentlessly.

“Well….”, you comment blankly, already accepting that the night is not going to go as you both had planned.

“Maybe in a few minutes?”, Mina says hopefully. Thunder roars and several bolts of lightning flash. “Or maybe not….”, She sighs softly.

You groan and fall back on the bed. “It’s just so unfair. The entire week was sunny and like the hottest days in months. Months. And now the one day we had planned something it’s raining like it’s the end of the world!”

Mina gives you a sympathetic look, she knows how long you had been looking forward to just spending a good night out without any worries for work and now the weather ruined all the potential plans you both had made in the last few days.

You groan and stretch before collapsing back on the mattress dejectedly, a small pout on your face.

Mina stares at you, a small smile forming as she sees you throw a mini tantrum. She found it so adorable to see you pout. She sits next to you before firmly pinning your arms down by your wrists as she straddles your waist. “Mmm…you are so cute right now”, she murmurs quietly as she stares into your eyes.

Almost immediately you feel yourself blush, your cheeks going red, you gently struggle against her grip on your wrists but she just holds them down even more firmly. You even avert your eyes, looking to the side as try to remain calm.

She laughs quietly and blinks slowly as she keeps gazing at you adoringly. “Just because our plans got interrupted doesn’t mean they have to be canceled, we can just change them. I still want to have a date night with you darling.”, she whispers enticingly as she leans in closer, you can feel her breath on your face now.

“Yeah but….”, you trail off as you feel her hot breath on your face making you squirm which in turn makes her smile mischievously.

Mina leans in, her lips barely a hair’s breadth away from yours, you close your eyes and hold your breath in anticipation. A few moments pass and nothing happens making you slowly open your eyes to see Mina’s mischievous expression as she bites her lip.

“Oh you thought I was going to kiss you? Do you want me to?”, she asks softly as she squeezes your wrists tightly.

You feel lost for words, helpless to do anything except look at her right now.

She breathes hotly on you again, pouting just a little, “I’m not going to kiss you until you ask…beg me to. I want you to desperately want me like how I want you right now.

You squirm again, her words having an effect on you. You can’t help but bite your lip now. “Please…Mina…kiss me.”, you manage to ask quietly.

She smiles excitedly, leaning in and finally kissing you until you both are out of breath. She then pulls away, panting as she looks at you before diving in again. Making out with your several minutes until you are feeling dizzy from being so out of breath. Each kiss making you forget all about your sourness earlier and instead drive you crazier for her touch.

She then gently bites your collarbone before moving up to your neck, whispering how much she loves you and how much she needs you the entire time.

Within a few minutes she began to get more intimate unable to help herself when it came to you, your sharp breaths and gasps only encouraging her. The night passed slowly and passionately leaving both of you entirely exhausted. Both of you feeling hungry, sleepy and tired but too lazy to get up and too comfortable to let go of each other.

[alluramiura]

“𝒾𝓃 ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹𝓈, 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊” ｜se-mi x reader

summary: you save se-mi during lights out.

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: lowercase intended, death description, 124 dies, se-mi lives, mentions of youngmi’s death (💔), reader is an implied foreigner

authors note: i was going to post something abt hyunju but i remembered how se-mi died and i got mad all over again. minsu you’re a fucking coward. enjoy.

you met se-mi after the first game, before six-legged pentathlon. you talked a few times, the first time being when you two agreed to team up. after the agreement, she proposed the idea to split up and search for more teammates.

a few minutes later, you found two players willing to join you; hyunju and youngmi. when you found her again, she had found four other players.

before you could say anything, one of the men behind her spoke up.

“who’s this, se-mi? the limit is five. we have all of our members.” he says, so quietly you almost can’t hear him. he was standing the closest to se-mi, and you notice his number is 125.

your eyes flicker to his for a second before flickering back to se-mi, who looks like she was about to give you an apology before another one of the men speaks, quite loudly.

“who’s this chick?” a man with purple hair—“thanos“— steps forward to address you directly.

“oooh, i see what’s happening. you want to join the amazing thanos’ team, huh? we are sadly out of room, señorita. but come to me next round, yeah?”

you stare at him blankly before turning back to se-mi. “it’s okay. i found a few people. you can stay with your group.”

she nods hesitantly, and you give her a faint smile before turning to return to the two players you found, who have now found two more players.

after the second game, you spoke again, a little before voting.

you opened up about your situation, how you were still relatively new to life in seoul, and how it’s been rougher than you imagined it would be, especially with the whole death game thing.

she sat and listened, nodding softly as you explained the last few months of your life to her.

she spoke about her situation a little as well. she didn’t say much, just that going back to her life was as good as staying here would be.

hearing that, you shouldn’t have felt as shocked, almost betrayed as you did when you saw her with the small “O” patched onto her jacket.

you knew you really had no right to be upset—everyone was here for a reason, some reasons being worse than the others, and her singular vote would have changed nothing regardless—but you couldn’t help but think of how the majority of players would choose money over fellow human life, her being one of them.

you try not to let her see how much the thought bothers you, but she seems to catch on almost immediately.

“are you upset that i chose to continue?” she asked, a bit suddenly, after noticing you’ve barely said anything and had been avoiding her gaze.

“…i’m not upset at you directly. i just…wanted to go home really bad.” you mutter softly, fidgeting with your necklace.

she hums in acknowledgement, and what seems like understanding.

“i wish i felt the same way.”

the next time you talk to her after that was during the third game.

mingle was probably the most stressful for you. you stayed with youngmi and the rest of your designated group for the most part.

that is, until youngmi died.

seeing her lifeless body covered in blood changed something within you.

when the farris wheel stopped spinning once more, you almost didn’t move. however, you suddenly felt the strong urge to make it out of here alive, if not for yourself, then for the friends, family you found here that might not make it along the way.

when you saw se-mi again, she was alone, looking around frantically for another person after the number two was called out.

you first noticed that she wasn’t with her team, but you pushed that thought away as you rushed towards her, grabbing her arm and sprinting to an empty room.

once you were in the room with the door shut, you pressed your back against the wall, catching your breath.

after a few seconds of silence and heavy breathing, se-mi speaks up, her voice hoarse and breathy.

“thank you.”

hearing that, you look up at her before nodding, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wall.

“you’re welcome.”

when you left the room, you noticed she stayed near you and your group instead of with the people she was with before.

you didn’t mind.

the final time you talked to her before lights out was after the second vote.

when you saw she voted “X”, you were almost as shocked as you were seeing her vote the first time.

you didn’t ask what changed her mind, however. instead, you asked her what happened with her team.

“they…they’re assholes. i should’ve known from the start.” she mumbles, sighing softly.

you two spoke a little more, and you told her about your newfound motivation to make it out no matter what, after witnessing the death of your friend.

you shed a few tears thinking of youngmi. you didn’t know her for long, but like many other people you met here, you formed a bond you knew you’d never have with anyone else you’d ever meet.

se-mi gently put a hand on your shoulder as you cried silently, her expression grim.

you stayed with her for the remainder of the time before lights out.

now, as everyone’s killing one another and the scent of copper fills the air, you run around frantically looking for a place to hide.

you were climbing to the top of one of the bunk beds when you heard a familiar voice.

a shriek.

you look behind you, and a few feet away stood player 124, standing over se-mi with a bloodied fork in hand, looking like he was ready to attack.

that same feeling you got seeing youngmi die suddenly came back full force, and before you even realized it, you had hopped off the latter and began running towards the two.

as you approached, you locked eyes with se-mi as she struggled to fight him off.

suddenly, a glass bottle shatters, causing you to step back, and namgyu to pause his murderous actions, looking up to find the person who threw it.

while he’s distracted, you grab a shard of the glass and jab it into his his shoulder from behind.

namgyu lets out a pained cry as the glass pierces his shoulder. in an instant, he swivels around, backhanding you in the face.

you hit the ground pretty hard, feeling blood trickle down your nose. your vision was slightly blurred and you were disarrayed, your hand pressing against your temple where you initially hit the ground.

se-mi’s eyes widen, a strangled gasp leaving her lips as she watches you fall to the ground. adrenaline fuels her as she takes the opportunity to scramble to her feet, kicking namgyu in his side.

he doubles over slightly, but quickly recovers as he takes another step towards se-mi.

to her surprise, you get back on your feet, gripping the shard of glass so hard that blood runs down your wrist as you charge at namgyu again.

her heart racing, she joins fray in a flurry of limbs and desperation, punching and kicking wherever she could. namgyu was strong, however, and he managed to dodge all of your messily aimed attempts at stabbing him, his own adrenaline surging.

he suddenly grabs se-mi’s wrist forcefully, slamming her against the wall and raising his fork over his head, preparing to stab se-mi in the neck.

“no!” you shriek, balancing yourself and locking your blurry vision onto namgyu before charging at him a final time, stabbing him in the back harshly.

you don’t stop after the first stab, continuing to drill the glass into his back repeatedly, his blood splattering all over your shirt and skin.

he screams out in pain, staggering as his strength slowly leaves his body.

it’s only when he hits the ground, choking on his own blood as it pools around him when you realize what you’ve done, your hands shaking as you look down at the blood covering your hands.

you almost feel sick knowing it’s not just your own.

if someone told you a week ago that you’d become a murderer trying to protect yourself and your loved ones in a death game you’d blindly signed up for, you’d call a psychiatrist.

you drop the glass, trembling as you slowly look up at se-mi, tears beginning to stream down your face.

se-mi quickly runs over to you, her heart pounding in her chest. she grabs your face, holding it in her hands as she checks for any fatal injuries.

when she sees that you don’t have any major wounds, she pulls you into a tight hug.

you wrap your arms around se-mi as you bury your face into her neck, sobbing as the reality sinks in of what you’ve just done.

she kept her arms caged around you protectively, as she looks around to make sure no one else tries to attack you two.

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i got you.” she whispers, her own voice wavering as she rubs your back, attempting to comfort you for the second time that day, only under completely different circumstances.

“i-it all happened so fast…” you cry out, clinging onto se-mi like a lifeline. “h-he was trying to kill you, se-mi…i had to…i had to.”

“shhh…it’s alright. you saved me.” she murmurs, slowly guiding you to a nearby corner, hidden in the shadows from the chaos. she doesn’t once let you go, her eyes scanning the room for any immediate danger as the lights flicker.

after a while, she pulls back, gently tilting your head up so you could look at her. her thumb brushes away the tears streaming down your face, her touch tender.

"you're safe now. it's over."

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ together; alternate version (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

yunho's been away for tour, only this time, when he comes home you have very different news to share.

style: bullet drabble (alternative sequel to losing time) pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k tags/warnings: fluff, light angst, all things pregnancy and babies, light smut with breeding kink/preg kink (yunho is v happy she's pregnant essentially lmao) notes: this was fully inspired by an anon in my inbox who asked what would have happened in my short fic together if the news reader had to share was a pregnancy and how would yunho react to that. i don't take fic requests, but i love babyfic and this just turned into a little bullet and drabble fic i thought i would share with everyone.

[masterlist]

at the end of losing time, yunho leaves for tour and it’s a long one. a full two, two and a half months abroad in europe while you’re left at home in a different time zone missing him terribly. 

you find out the truth while he’s away, only a few weeks into tour when you start getting sick. it’s not something you can just spring on him while he’s on tour, it would distract him, it would stress him out, and frankly you just don’t know what to do. what decision to make. 

you know how you feel about yunho, and you knows how he feels about you….  but this type of news always changes everything. 

so you keep it to yourself, and you do your best to make it through. 

only when yunho does return.... you’re showing. it's not a lot, just the beginning stages of a curve at three months, but it's starting to be apparent if you’re wearing fitted clothing and it's not something you would be able to keep from him if he touched you. 

so when he comes home, finally, and texts you, asking if he can send a car to bring you to the studio, you want to say yes so badly but you can’t. 

this isn't a conversation you can have in front of anyone else so you say no. and you’re honestly terrified, so you lie, just a little white lie. you tell him you can't come and that you’re not feeling well, you’ll see him another day soon.

anxiety is fully eating you up and you’re spiraling, and you don’t know it but your texts fully freaked yunho out. he's convinced that you’re going to break up with him and waited until after tour to do it, and he's sick about it.

after dance practice, he sneaks out and comes to your place.

all of a sudden hes there, he’s knocking on your door. 

you thought you had more time, you still don’t know how to tell him, what to say- but he’s there 

and -

You're a mess. Your hair is tangled from running your fingers through it again and again, and you're pretty sure this sweatshirt has a coffee stain on it, but he's here and no matter what you have to face this.

He knocks again, a soft rap on the door, "y/n, please let me in,"

"Just a second," You call back, knotting your hair back into a bun and kicking on your slippers. Your stomach rolls with nervousness, but at least, you think, it's not morning sickness.

When you finally pull open the door your hands are trembling, and Yunho's pained expression doesn't help.

"Hey," You manage.

"Hi," His eyes dart over you, a crease of concern between his brows, "can I come in?"

You move to let him in immediately, stepping back into the apartment, "Sorry, of course,"

When you shut the door tight and flip the lock, silence fills the space, but somewhere within you, you find the strength to turn around and look up at him.

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly off balance at the strange discomfort between you, and finally he sighs, "Whatever it is," he says, "I know we can work it out."

A strike of panic lances up your spine at the thought he might already know what words are sitting like lead on your tongue, but all you can manage is a soft, "What?"

"You're avoiding me," His hands flex and release, "we haven't seen each other in months, and now I'm here, and you haven't even smiled. I don't think you're sick, I think something's wrong."

"Yunho," Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears threatening your eyes already. You wanted to hold it together, but this is already too hard.

He swallows tightly and keeps talking, his own voice laced with nerves, "I know two months was a long time, and I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, I should have called more, made more time for us, but, y/n," he takes a tentative step towards you, "I love you, and I really don't want to give up on us, please, don't,"

Things slot into place at his words and you shake your head, "Who said anything about giving up on us?"

The words hang for a moment, and then he softly exhales, "You're not breaking up with me?"

"No!" Your voice squeaks as you rush to dispel that idea, "No, oh my god, not at all,"

He grins, covering his face with his broad hands and sighing, "Jesus Christ," he sighs, "I was going out of my mind,"

"No," You shake your head again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He drops his hands and you can see the tension leave his tight shoulders, "Thank god," he smiles and steps towards you.

Panic bubbles back up inside you and you raise your hand to stop him, stepping back until your hips bump into the back of the couch, "Wait,"

His expression crumbles, "What's going on?"

You just have to say it.

"Um," Your stomach flips, "I do have some news."

"News," He repeats numbly.

"Yeah," You start to cross your arms over your chest but the realization that it would pull the fabric of the sweatshirt closer to you rockets through your brain and you drop your arms helplessly by your side. You have no idea how to tell him this.

"You can tell me anything," He says softly, reading your panic in a moment, "and you know, there's nothing we can't handle together."

"Yunho," Tears start to gather, making your eyes glassy, "I don't know how to tell you this,"

"I'm here,"

The panicked, terrified, anxious part of your brain scoffs, for now. You look away from him immediately, eyes glued to the floor. If this is how you lose him, then you guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

You take a steadying breath and jump, "I have something to tell you," you knot your fingers together, "and I didn't know how to tell you while you were away. I was afraid of distracting you or trying to figure this out while you weren't, you know, here,"

"Okay," He murmurs, taking a slow step in your direction, "I'm here,"

"A week after you left," You press your eyes closed tight, tears tracking down your cheeks, "I missed my period,"

He's silent. Your stomach churns again, but you keep going, "For a little bit I just thought it was stress, or something funny, I'm not always on schedule, but, then I started getting sick," With your eyes closed and with him so quiet, you can almost pretend you're practicing this speech, one of the many times you talked it through in the shower, lying in bed, pacing laps around your apartment. "I'm so sorry," Your voice cracks, "I'm pregnant," You can't bring yourself to open your eyes. "I know I should have told you," Tears rush forward a little faster now and you take a hitched breath, "and I know you don't want this, but you deserve to know, and I... I don't, Yunho, I don't know what to do, I don't know what I'm s-supposed to do, and," Yunho steps forwards all at once, his hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your face upwards, "Hey, hey," he soothes, voice tender, "look at me," Your eyes finally open, meeting his gaze. You expect to find him terrified, any twenty-something guy with a delicate career would be, but all you find in his eyes is soft comfort. There's no trace of the idol in him, just your lover, your best friend. "It's okay," He wipes away your tears gently, "sweetheart, breathe," "Why aren't you angry?" Tears rush faster, your breath tight. He smiles, "I'm upset you didn't think you could tell me," he dips forwards and presses a kiss to your forehead, "but y/n, I love you, this isn't... baby, this could never be bad news." "W-what?" "The timing's terrible," He admits, "and I also have no idea what we're supposed to do, but I don't care. I love you, we'll figure this out." Of all the reactions you expected from him, this hadn't even crossed your mind. When he leans back from you a little to study your tear stained face again, he smiles, and it feels like everything about your life is about to change. Slowly, you pull his hands away from your face and take a steadying breath, "Yunho," you manage, "you're an idol, and besides, we're twenty-six, we're not even married, we're not, what the hell are we going to do with a baby," He slides his hands over yours and brings them together, lifting them so he can press his lips to the back of your knuckles, "We'll do what people do, we'll make it work." You shake your head, feeling fully unmoored, but he keeps going. "I knew you were it for me on the second date," He says and the world slows to a stop, "the only thing in the world I'm terrified of is losing you, but this? y/n, I'm in love with you. Did you think I haven't imagined what our lives would be like?" "I," You can't find the right words, but you try, "I love you," His smile widens, and he moves quickly, tugging you forwards and wrapping his arms around you properly. He's much taller, and he has to lean over you, but he wraps one arm smoothly around your lower back and your hands settle on his shoulders. He pulls you up in one smooth motion, his free hand slipping under your thighs as you wrap them around his waist to hold you tight against him. He kisses your lips, tender relief in every press of his mouth on yours and he nuzzles your nose with his, "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you too," You confess, your body finally relaxing and melting into him, weeks and weeks of tension bleeding out of your body, "so much," He hugs you close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck, and then he freezes, "Oh my god," his hand slides over your back, landing on your waist, "you really are pregnant," You know he can feel it, the change in your body when you're pressed flush against him like this, and you nod into his neck. "H-how," His hand pushes under your sweatshirt, searching your skin, "baby, how far?" "Fourteen weeks," He sucks in a breath, dropping you gingerly back to your feet, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," For a split second you think you're finally getting the anger you anticipated, but the giddy expression on his face says otherwise.

"I've missed so much," He snakes a hand under your hoodie, and lays his palm over your slightly distended belly, "I'm... god, I can't believe this," "You're not upset?" You check softly. "No," He shakes his head, and then he tugs gently at your sweatshirt, "No, but, can you take this off, can I see?" You're nervous again, but his easy energy wraps around you like a safety blanket and you nod, swallowing back any fears and pulling off the sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but your sweat pants, and a tight tank top. His eyes zero in on the bump immediately, and the sliver of skin between your sweats and the hemline of your top. Your hands rest over your belly, a nervous, protective instinct, "I know," He blinks hard, tearing his eyes away from your changing body and up to your face. "What?" You ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "You're really pregnant," He says, his voice a little rough, and then he reaches again until his hand slides over the smooth plane of your stomach, tracing the curve, "that's my baby," "Yeah," You breathe softly. 

Tears track down his face and he laughs, reaching for you again, up into his arms and nestled against him. 

From there?

He’s kissing you and he just can’t stop. 

You’re a mess from stress and tears, and hardly feel sexy, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed you, he loves you so much and this news is unexpected and terrifying but he’s so happy he doesn’t care

So holding you in his arms still, he takes you to bed

And you’re apologetic about the mess, your bed stand is covered with water bottles and anti-nausea medication and it hits him all at once how you’ve just been holding it together by a thread 

And he pulls you into the bed - “You’ve been sick, this hasn’t been easy, has it? I could have been there for you, I wish I had been there,” 

But you assure him that you’re mostly on the other side of it, you’re only sick like once in a while now not every second of every day 

And he’s like….. we are talking about that later, but right now how are you feeling? 

And you’re good…. but god, you missed him and now you’re just so relieved

So he begs you to let him take care of you now, he’s home, he can carry that weight if you’ll let him

And teary tender kissing in bed leaves his hands wandering, noticing how much is different, losing his mind over your bump and the new fullness of your breasts

And he’s hard and you’re touch starved 

And then he’s just losing it a little - kissing your body, telling you how much he loves every inch of you, how insane it makes him that he did this to you, how you made something together

And all the tenderness to dirty talk sends your brain into overdrive. 

It’s all just desperate needy, thank god we didn’t break up i can’t believe i got you pregnant sex

Worshipping oral, lots of body kissing and feral groaning from Yunho

His absolute insanity at being inside you like this - and you’re tighter, wetter, and needier than ever, and he’s just feral for it

“You’ll be the prettiest mommy, won’t you?” 

Just heaps of breeding and preg dirty talk

“God, I hope you want a lot of kids,” 

“You look so good like this, I’ll have to knock you up again,” 

“So pretty with my baby inside you,” 

And when you’re done, you fall asleep instantly. you’ve been sleeping so much more all of a sudden, and you suppose your body needs it, but it feels like you’re finally resting for the first time in weeks

When you wake, your apartment is clean, he got take out (but he’s googling best soups for morning sickness and texting Wooyoung cooking questions), and he’s making a list of everything you’ll need. He’s already making a plan of what you’re going to do. 

So even though the tour was terrifying, he’s home, he’s got you. You’re together on this, always.

[voidcat]

— keep it under wraps

characters: dazai osamu/reader, (mentioned: yosano akiko)

wc & synopsis: 2.2k – Practiced crafts under years of experience comes like second nature, an extension of one's body, almost like breathing. Yet you find yourself like a newborn deer with its shaky legs, afraid of the world it is born into as you are tending to man whose body you've treated and familiarised with after countless times before. (minor wound dressing, nothing explicit)

notes: hello! long time no dazai writing. this one's special for me. originally, i thought i'd break my dazai-silence with something different instead we got this. if you're familiar with my series A Case Of Bad Luck, you can take it as an extension of it (-cannot blame me for wanting to start with a fic for my favorite ongoing series ahaha.) It can be read independently but it's implied reader and Dazai have met in the past, long enough to have left an impact on each other. Leaving Yokohama and returning years later, this is their first proper confrontation/acknowledging one another.

The day’s peace is interrupted by sudden commotion by the front door.

5 minutes prior Dr. Yosano receives a call which results in her now forgotten cup of tea. From the sounds you can hear in the next room, you can make out the telltale signs of preparations for a possible operation. If you’re lucky it’s simple suture work at best, if it’s a bad day, she’ll have to use her ability.

And you hope, and pray if there’s anyone there, that it won’t have to come to this. Anything that further upsets and hurts her makes your stomach turn, leaving a sour taste and colder memories in their wake.

When the detectives rush in, she immediately looks over to divide their situations one by one. The information Kunikida provided beforehand helps with the makeshift triage, and within a blink of an eye, you find yourself alone in her office. Standing there under the bright light.

Before disappearing behind the door, she waved a hand off saying it was no hassle, that she can handle it herself, “You should attend to anyone else who might need assistance.” It is a simple request, a basic statement. But the look flashing before her eyes told you otherwise.

Worry pooling in her eyes, regret and an apology.

For what? You wanted to ask for a second but the faltered coughs coming from the room made you feel selfish for even holding her up for this long.

Dr. Yosano’s normally chatty room now contains you cold and empty. What is usually your escape and solace now feels to be swallowing you.

You’re aware of him, his faint breaths but you make no move just yet.

Just a few more seconds of courage, just enough to push down your thoughts and memories from reaching the surface.

During the call, Kunikida had said it was one grave injury and one minor. And the first thing Dr. Yosano had asked was if they needed to go through with the plan.

You hadn’t even bothered asking then, maybe you should have.

Your silence only must have suspected more, her gut feeling proving closer to truth each day.

So to the grave injury she went, and to the minor one you- due to the priorities of the cases and because her ability wouldn’t have worked on him any way, so it was better to be doing a basic wound dressing.

You swallow once, thickly, your throat hurts. Behind you you can her footsteps towards the examination chair.

You allow yourself one more moment, close your eyes, take a deep breath in and out. Open them.

It’s been years since you’ve last been alone in a room with Dazai Osamu.

Ignoring his gaze on you, you walk up to the cabinet to get the materials you need.

It should be a basic injury, so the basics will do.

Legs swinging in the air, Dazai watches you with keen interest.

After months of dancing around the topic and ignoring one another altogether, there is a lingering curiosity in how things will progress from here on.

How much longer can you keep this up, is the real question. 

It’s been taking its toll on you lately, he can tell. Skeletons in your closet, you never let the past drop fully, always have to go back and tamper, seek out a pile of bones when in dire need of talking. Isn’t it tiring? Aren’t you exhausted?

You look nothing like what he last saw, maybe that’s an improvement, a small victory in your book.

You seem to have come a long way, moved on, moved away, started fresh.

Clearly not enough from how you came back all the way here.

To push away the standard practice and instead sign up to work under her, under the Armed Detective Agency.

Almost as if a part of you still seeks it.

“Good evening, sir.” You say the word wincing, force of habit. “Could you take off your coat for me?” you say, rest of voice unfaltering, practiced decency and greetings to the notch. Your eyes watching his every movement, you wait for any sign of pain to locate the wound.

Maybe it’s not as much of a standard treatment. You do call everyone here with titles rather than names after all. You keep a distance, closest you are with is the doctor and even then you don’t drop titles of respect and the walls separating you from everyone else.

Dazai is uncharacteristically silent- for his persona he has crafted and wore here at least. It is unnerving to a degree but not the first time you’ve had to endure this thick silence in the air, lingering, waiting for any sign of weakness to suffocate its victims.

Or it could be just that. Lost in thoughts. If you recall the details, he wasn’t in charge of this case originally, but as it grew and the roots spread, more focus was shifted its way.

Something appearing innocent in the mirage of a ball of cotton and sinking anyone foolish enough to approach it with no caution.

There are many examples of this in nature- angler fish, rafflessia, a peculiar man wrapped in too many bandages for his own good hiding secrets and burdens too much for his body to contain.

Dangerous beings, predators lying in wait.

You take Dazai’s hands and inspect each digit, forearms and up to his shoulder.

On his left arm the gauze has gotten crimson red, smelling of iron.

Slowly your hand trails down and finds the start of the gauze tucked under the wraps as your eyes roam his torso for any signs of multiple injuries.

This isn’t proper examination, not really.

You should’ve checked his breathing too, looked for his intercostals, listened to his lungs, asked him what had happened and where else he got shot.

Yet you’re aware the attempt would’ve been futile, from the moment his coat was off and your hands were on him, you knew there wasn’t anything else. 

Sometimes you think, and fear, that you know his body better than your own.

Unwrapping the gauze with sharp and precise movements, you reveal his forearm. 

Still littered in cuts and patches of dry skin here and there. He must be wrapping it too tight at some areas because the body hair has grown at uneven lengths there. 

After all these years he still cannot do his bandages himself, but tucks the end just the way you do.

Something about the notion makes your heart ache.

It stings, to think how much yet how little has changed.

Your fingers still dance on his skin with the same precision, and his body responds with the same touch starved state, hairs on end for a moment until he adjusts to the heat coming from your body and care coming from your hands.

It intrigues Dazai how despite everything, even from the very start you still hold him like something delicate, fragile, handle him with care one would only have for something they value greatly- even if not that grand, there’s still care to an extent.

You hold the materials with a confidence now, Dazai notes. Boldness of someone who knows what they’re doing, you’re swift as you lay down what you’ll be needing, you open few packs of gauze sponge and pour iodine tincture without taking them off yet. Place them side by side, cut strips of gauze and nonwoven plaster, already calculating how wide you’ll need each piece- an extra cut in the middle of each, he notices.

His wound is nothing big, even left with his preexisting bandages, he would’ve been fine- or so he said until Kunikida started going on a lecture about infections and what-not. Big deal! If the universe wishes for your paths to be clashing so soon, well he will have no complaints. 

Satisfied with the set up, you wash and disinfect your hands again.

This is the same routine you’ve always done, know by heart, hands moving on their own. It’s fascinating how muscle memory resurfaces even after so long, the bodies and the nerves are truly amazing. It comes to you as second nature by now, to undo his bandages, look over for any signs of concerning signs, even in the dim lights you can tell apart what is his body’s usual and not. 

Grabbing the first gauze sponge, you wipe the wound off with one swift motion, toss it to the side and grab another one. Starting from the center of the wound, to the outside you wipe it in one circular motion, toss this one when you’re done with it and wait a few seconds.

Placing a smaller one on top of his wound, your hand then mindlessly goes for the pieces of plaster and you apply them carefully over the gauze. Not too tight nor loose- enough to let the wound breathe, your fingers linger a moment too long on his skin when you’re done.

With a slight shake of your head, you retract your hand immediately and reach for the gauze strip.

Despite all the discordance and circumstances out of your control, it’s the small routines that have helped you keep you somewhat grounded, to keep going. And despite being one of your greatest sources of said disturbances, Dazai had become a part of the said routines as well.

As familiar as the night time, his presence had become something comforting, as all kinds of feelings swirled like an impending storm from within, ready to burst out of your chest at any given time. 

There was nothing normal and everything odd with your run-ins with Dazai, were you to think about it. Each one weirder than the last, and growing into something much twisted, roots of the ivy digging deeper, maybe it’s the unfamiliarity that brought comfort, the change that comes with the unknown. At nights, you had some resemblance of a control. At nights, it was just your room and the bright, faraway lights of nearby signs illuminating your room, he fitted right in instead of standing out. Eyes trained on your body, silent and waiting for your signs. An illusion maybe but a taste of control nonetheless. 

You’d like to think he enjoyed it somewhat too, the opportunity to observe you in a shade tad different, inspect a side to you you’re yet to experiment with. 

And each night, you chose to hold out to him that beacon of compromise, an olive branch, restocked on gauze in the house- not that anyone noticed it lessening in amount.

It’s the same hands moving then, with the same routine like a ritual on themselves.

Yet you’ve grown, and changed. Your eyes no longer carry the same light of empathy as they once did. You’re more distant now, tried your best to keep him at a arm’s length so far, and it worked to an extent.

If that’s how you want to play, then fine, he’ll play along. It’s only so long until you lose control again.

And when it does, it’ll be Dazai who’ll be there in wait, the only one to know how to handle and cradle you, how to assess the situation to the best of opportunities.

You wrap the area of his wound and the rest of his arm separately. Firm in your touch, you tuck the end of the gauze despite fixating it with an extra piece of plaster.

“Your wound will need redressing and inspecting to see how it has healed.” You give notice.

With a nod of his head, he flashes one of his smiles, not reaching his eyes. “Thanks, there!-” 

“Doctor.” you correct him, the word leaving your lips like cold metal.

“Well, thanks doc.” Dazai says, his smile morphing somewhat wicked. Now the edges of his mouth crooked, lids dropped slightly and a hint of poison to his voice, the man you’ve known comes oozing out of the cracks he so carefully filled.

You can never fix something to where it was, nor cover up the cracks with polish. There is no as “good” as “new”, it’s either, and even then the judgement depends entirely on the experience and the person.

“We’ll be seeing you later, then.” you say, to bid him away. And for once, Dazai complies without resistance, his smile never faltering and eyes never leaving yours, ‘I see you, and I see this gimmick you’re trying to pull.’

Hopping off the stretcher, he reaches for his coat with his uninjured arm, not bothering to button up his shirt; he stops by the door, hand stroking your bandage work for a moment. 

Neither of you make a comment on the lack of time you’ve given him to come visit Dr. Yosano’s office again. After all old habits die hard, and both of you still remember the specifics as clear as day.

A part of you wishes to yell then, or push him by the chest, say there’s no pretending, that this is who you are, truly, at heart, that you’re a good person with nothing left to hide now. 

Regardless, if it’s a show he wants, you’ll give either way- you always do. And with sharp eyes he'll wait for you to squirm and fall, and once more you’ll stand tall with your head held high, chest heaving with the weight of his gaze. Sooner or better, you’ll accept his fingers are intervening within the strings of your fate.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

PART TWO TO THE CLIFF'S SISTER THING PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE

A/n: Idk what else would happen in the second part, I hope soft smut is ok 😬

Warnings: Mostly fluff, light smut, grinding, fingering (f receiving), mentions of masturbation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 1

A week had passed since Cliff's birthday, James never left, you didn't want him to. After he kissed you, his warm lips against yours when you were at your lowest, everything felt better.

Maybe it was a temporary fix, maybe Cliff was pulling his hair out from the heavens above, but you got better. Showering became a regular occurrence again, you didn't wear Cliff's clothes as often.

Most importantly, you got back into playing bass. You swore it started raining every time, hard, thunder and lightning, the whole thing.

James didn't leave your side, he held you at night, he went out for breakfast with you, cooked with you. Very rarely were you apart, maybe it was a bad thing, a sign you needed more help, but even a temporary fix was better than nothing.

You'd just gotten out of the shower and were brushing your hair as you came into your room, finding James already splayed out in bed waiting for you. He smiled at you, eyeing you in your towel. You rolled your eyes at him, not needing him to say a word to know what he was thinking.

You went to the closet, looking through your clothes and tossing a shirt along with a pair of shorts to the ground. "You don't really have to put those on, do ya?" James asked, sitting up in bed, eyes never leaving your figure. You gave him a look and turned your back to him, closing the closet door and bending over to pick up your shirt. "Might as well just drop the towel." James teased, though he was looking away out of respect.

You thought about it for a moment before dropping the cloth. James's eyes widened, cheeks heating up at the sight of you, even if you still had your back to him. "I don't really need clothes, do I?" You teased.

"Yes! Yes, you do, you-you really..." He trailed, gaze wandering back to you before he snapped his head back away. "You do, you definitely, definitely do." You giggled and got your clothes on before crawling into bed next to him. Your bed wasn't especially small, you didn't have to touch each other, but it was more comfortable to curl up to him.

James got comfortable with you, laying on his side and wrapping his arms around you. He kissed your forehead, sending a little jolt to your gut.

You laid curled up against him, listening to his heartbeat in the silence that fell across the room. "We should go on a date." James said abruptly.

You raised your brows and looked up at him. "A date?" You repeated. "Haven't we gone on one?"

James made a face and shook his head. "We haven't left the house." He said with a small shrug, a thought crossing his mind and concern started spreading over his features. "When, uh, when was the last time you left the house?" He asked, voice low so as to not come across too accusatorily.

You thought for a long few moments before finally answering. "A month, maybe... I never really left the house before Cliff died, I'm pretty sure it was grocery shopping." James listened, nodding along. He knew you were never exactly extroverted, he was surprised it had only been a month, and it made sense in September, but it was November now.

James exhaled softly and smiled warmly down at you. "So, a date, then? Just, like, a lunch, or something." You chewed your cheek, mentally debating it. You didn't want to say no, you wanted to go, but you didn't know if you could bring yourself to leave the house.

James saw your hesitation and knew what was going through your head, he wasn't as oblivious as people thought. "How about this, we say yes, and tomorrow you'll get all pretty and we'll go, BUT, and this is only, like, a backup plan, but we don't have to go, alright? No one's making you do anything."

It was a reasonable enough plan, you were going until you couldn't, it would work. Right?

You agreed and pecked his lips. Of course he chased the kissed, wanting more and more until your breathing was heavy and you were tugging on his hair.

James pulled you on top of him, his arms wrapping around you. His hands ran up and down your sides, grabbing your ass through your shorts. A soft groan left you as your hips bucked against him, rubbing on his hard on through his boxers.

"James-!" You gasped, pulling away a bit.

James's arms tightened around you. "Shh, shh, it's fine, just keep going." He encouraged, adjusting your position so your clothed cunt was pressed against his thigh, clit catching on the fabric of your shorts. "First date, first day outside together... we can have more firsts." He mused, pecking your cheek. "C'mere." He pulled you back down, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

His hands went down to your hips, guiding you against his thigh. Low groans left him, your little thrust bumping his cock, it wasn't enough to make him cum but that wasn't his priority right now. He listened to your muffled whines, the little sounds you were making only adding to his arousal.

He made you feel so small, not in a negative way. He made you feel safe, protected, like nothing could get to you. James was bigger than you, taller, stronger, he wasn't one for fights but he was big enough that most people didn't even bother.

You'd never left the house with him, but you'd seen how people treat him. You knew what it felt like to be with him. "Jamie..." You muttered, lifting yourself up the best you could to look at him.

He smiled up at you, loving your reactions to grinding on him, your eyes filled with a desperation, pouty lips parted slightly. "You're doing so good, sweetheart, just keep going." He mused, hand slipping further down your body, dipping into your shorts.

He gave your ass a quick squeeze before the tip of his middle finger teased your hole. You gasped softly and he pushed it further in. "Keep going." His voice was low but firm, he didn't move his hand, letting you fuck yourself on it.

Your whines got needier and louder, a knot building in your gut. His name was the only thing filling your mouth, coming out in moans like a sultry mantra. The knot tightened before finally snapping and you were left a twitching mess on top of him.

James littered kisses all over your face, pulling his finger out of you as he did so. "You did so good, sweetheart, did so good for me." He purred. "Tired now, right?" He asked, letting you slide off of him when you nodded.

You laid by the wall, you preferred it because it let you sleep facing the wall while still feeling safe, James pressed firmly against your back, his arms wrapped around you.

This time you felt his cock against your ass. "You-you can keep going..." You muttered, out of breath.

James chuckled softly and shook his head, kissing the back of your back. "No, I'm staying until you fall asleep."

You looked back at him over your shoulder, eyes fluttering. "Until I fall asleep? Do you always wait until I fall asleep?" You asked, hoping against all odds he'd say no. How could he just leave you? He helped you fall asleep and then he just ditched?

"No, of course not." You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing more. "I'll stay until you fall asleep then I'll go to the bathroom, I'll be gone two, three minutes tops." He assured, placing more kisses along your neck and shoulder. "Sweetheart..." He spoke, waiting a moment before repeating himself. "Sweetheart?" He leaned over you seeing your relaxed expression, sleeping.

James kissed your cheek, despite saying he would leave he stayed put, making sure you weren't waking up before discretely making his way to the bathroom.

The next morning you went about your plan, smiling more than usual while he watched you do your makeup. It's not that you stopped smiling after Cliff, well, for a while you did, September would never be the same... maybe you did stop smiling and didn't want to believe it.

James didn't let go of you, always touching you in one way or another through dressing and breakfast, giving his opinions and encouraging you the whole way through, even going as far as tying your shoes for you.

The front door opened to a light drizzle, James's hand on your hip and he kissed your cheek. You leaned against him and he led you to his car which was still parked down the street.

The rain didn't let up, a low thunder rumbling in the sky.

Cliff approved.

[lifeofpriya]

Valentine's Love - Lukáš Dostál

[gif credit goes to @escapentropy]

a/n: @smileysvech reached out to me a while ago about a potential Valentine's Day fic with Lukáš and i immediately heeded the call 🤭🫡 hope y'all enjoy this fic 🫶🏼 who knows, as long as @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech don't put me in fic prison, there might be a few more valentine's day fics coming out too hehe

summary: Lukáš decides to surprise you for Valentine's Day...

You're standing in the cozy living room of the apartment you share with Lukáš, feeling a peculiar warmth that seems to radiate from the kitchen. The scent of garlic and basil fills the air, hinting at something delicious simmering on the stove. You've been dating the 24-year-old goalie for a few months now, and he's proven to be as adept at cooking as he is at saving pucks. You've come to appreciate the quiet moments at home, nestled between his grueling training sessions and travels for games.

As you hang up your coat, you hear the clink of pans and the rhythmic thud of something rolling. Curiosity piqued, you peek into the kitchen, expecting to see the usual takeout containers from your favorite Italian place. But instead, Lukáš stands at the counter, his strong arms covered in flour, meticulously rolling out pasta dough. He looks up, catching your gaze, and a bashful smile lights up his face. "Surprise!" he exclaims, his Czech accent thick with excitement.

You step closer, taking in the sight of your typically stoic boyfriend in an apron, a smear of sauce across his cheek. The counter is a landscape of ingredients: eggs, flour, a cheese grater, a bottle of wine with a mysterious label, and a bouquet of fresh herbs. "I wanted to do something special for Valentine's Day," he says, his eyes searching yours for approval.

You can't help but smile. "It smells amazing," you say, leaning over to give him a kiss. The flour on his face transfers to your cheek, leaving a powdery imprint. Lukáš laughs, wiping his hands on a towel before embracing you. His arms are warm and solid, a reminder of the protection he offers not just on the ice but in your life as well.

"Thank you," you murmur, your heart swelling with affection. You've never had a partner put so much effort into the small things. Most of your past relationships felt like a blur of Netflix binges and takeout food. But Lukáš brought a certain charm and romance to your life that you never knew you were missing.

As you slip out of your shoes, the floor feels cool against your feet. You notice a trail of rose petals leading from the kitchen to the dining room. You follow them, finding the table set with two place settings, each with a flickering candle. In the center, a handwritten note waits for you. "Dobrý večer, my love," it reads. "Tonight, we feast."

The aroma of the simmering sauce fills your senses, making your stomach rumble. You recognize the scents of tomatoes, onions, and the richness of olive oil. Lukáš must have been planning this for days, you think, impressed by his culinary prowess. "What kind of pasta are you making?" you ask, eager to learn more about the feast that awaits.

"It's tagliatelle," he replies, holding up a long strand of the freshly-made pasta with a flourish. "With a homemade bolognese. I hope you like it."

You nod enthusiastically, feeling a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the steam rising from the pot. "It's already perfect," you say, and you mean it. You can't remember the last time someone had done something so thoughtful for you, especially for a holiday that's often dismissed as commercial.

Lukáš beams at your response, his cheeks flushing slightly. He's usually so composed on the ice, but in the kitchen, he's all passion and nerves. It's endearing. You watch as he carefully drapes the pasta into the bubbling sauce, the strands sizzling as they make contact.

The kitchen, usually a place of casual meals and hasty breakfasts before early morning skates, has been transformed into a romantic haven. The candles cast a soft glow, and a playlist plays in the background—a mix of songs that you both enjoy. You're touched by his attention to detail, how he's created an atmosphere that feels so intimate and thoughtful.

You offer to help, but Lukáš gently shakes his head. "No, no," he says, waving you away with a floury hand. "You just sit and relax. This is my gift to you."

You take a seat at the table, watching as he works. His movements are precise and focused, his eyes never leaving the pot. You can see the love he puts into every gesture—the way he stirs the sauce with a wooden spoon, the care with which he arranges the pasta on the plates. It's not just about the food; it's about the effort, the time, the intention behind it all.

As you wait, you sip on the wine he's poured for you, feeling the warmth spread through your body. The notes of berries and oak mingle with the scents from the kitchen, creating a symphony of flavors that dance on your tongue. The music shifts to a slow, sweet melody, and Lukáš looks over at you with a question in his eyes. You nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He approaches you, holding out his hand. You stand, taking it, and he leads you to the small area he's cleared in the living room. It's not a fancy dance floor, but the way he looks at you, the way his hand fits in yours, it might as well be the most luxurious ballroom. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. You can feel his heart beating in time with the music.

The song he's chosen is one you both discovered together, a hidden gem from a Spotify playlist. It's about love found in unexpected places, about two people from different worlds colliding and finding harmony. As you sway together, your eyes locked, you realize how true those words are.

Lukáš's hand is firm but gentle as it guides you through the makeshift dance floor. His other hand rests lightly on the small of your back, the heat from his palm seeping through your sweater. You've never felt so safe, so cherished. The way he leads you in the dance mirrors the way he's been guiding your relationship—with confidence, but also with tenderness, always making sure you're comfortable and happy.

As the song reaches its crescendo, he dips you, and you laugh, your hair brushing the floor. The room spins for a moment, the candles casting a dizzying pattern of light and shadow. When you right yourself, you find his lips waiting, and you kiss him deeply, tasting the remnants of the wine and the sweetness of his smile.

"Let's eat," he whispers against your mouth, and you break away reluctantly, the scent of the bolognese growing stronger by the minute.

As you sit down to dinner, the tagliatelle is a perfect al dente, each strand coated in the rich sauce that clings to them like a warm embrace. The flavors meld together in a symphony of taste, each bite a testament to Lukáš's dedication.

"What are you thinking?" Lukáš asks, his gaze holding yours as you savor a bite of the tagliatelle. The sauce is heavenly, a blend of flavors that dance on your tongue, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in the beauty of the moment.

"I'm just thinking how lucky I am," you reply, your voice a soft whisper. You can't remember the last time you felt so seen, so understood.

Lukáš's eyes light up, and he leans across the table, capturing your hand in his. "I feel the same," he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand.

The conversation flows as easily as the wine, your laughter echoing off the walls. You share stories about your day, the mundane and the magical, and he listens with the same intensity he brings to the net. You can see his mind working, filing away details to remember for later, to ask about, to understand you better.

As you finish your meal, the tension between you builds, not from unspoken words, but from the love that has grown in the quiet moments you've shared. He reaches for your plate, his fingertips brushing against yours. "Dessert?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

You nod, curious about what he's prepared. Lukáš leaves the room and returns with a small box, setting it gently on the table between you. "I hope you like it," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and nerves.

You lift the lid, revealing two heart-shaped chocolate truffles, each one with a sprinkle of gold dust. They're not store-bought, you can tell; they're homemade, with an artistry that matches the pasta. "They're beautiful," you breathe, reaching for one.

Lukáš's smile widens. "I made them myself. I know you love chocolate."

You take a truffle, feeling the velvety smoothness against your fingertips. As you bring it to your mouth, you pause, looking at him. "What's the special ingredient?"

Lukáš chuckles, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "It's a secret," he says, popping the other one into his mouth.

You cock your head, your curiosity piqued. "A secret ingredient?" You take a bite of the truffle, letting the chocolate melt on your tongue. It's heavenly, a rich, velvety symphony of flavors. As the taste unfolds, you detect a hint of something unexpected—it felt like you bit into something solid.

"Wait!" Lukáš says, his eyes wide with excitement. "Don't swallow yet."

You look at him, the truffle still melting in your mouth. He pulls out a tiny envelope from his pocket, his hand shaking slightly. "I had these made special," he explains, handing it to you.

Inside is a small note card with an intricate design of a duck—his team's mascot—and a heart intertwined. You read it out loud, the words sending a shiver down your spine. "To my love, who fills my net with warmth and keeps me from feeling empty, Happy Valentine's Day. Love, Lukáš."

You look up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "This is so beautiful," you murmur, taking his hand.

Lukáš's smile falters slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "You're crying," he says, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. "Is it bad?"

You shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. "No, it's just…" You struggle to find the right words. "It's so sweet and perfect. I've never had anyone do something like this for me."

Lukáš looks relieved, his hand still clutching yours. "I wanted it to be special," he says, his voice earnest. "You make me so happy."

You lean across the table, the candlelight flickering in your eyes. "You make me happy too," you reply, your voice thick with emotion. "This dinner, the dance, the truffles… it's all so perfect."

Lukáš squeezes your hand. "Good," he says, his own voice a little tight. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. Wait, you didn't swallow the ring, did you?"

Your eyes widen in shock and you almost choke on the mouthful of truffle. "Ring?"

Lukáš's eyes dart to your mouth, and he looks slightly panicked. "The truffle… it's supposed to have a ring inside."

You laugh, your shock turning into delight. You chew slowly, the sweetness of the chocolate giving way to something hard and metallic. Your teeth clink against it, and you pull it out with your tongue. It's a ring, a beautiful, small diamond set in a delicate band of gold.

Lukáš watches you, his eyes a mix of hope and terror. "You didn't swallow it," he says, sounding almost like he's been holding his breath.

You laugh, shaking your head, holding up the ring between your fingers. "No, I didn't," you manage to say around the mouthful of chocolate. "It's… it's beautiful."

Lukáš's expression relaxes into a smile, his eyes shining with relief. He takes the ring from you, walking over to the sink to give it a quick rinse before returning to the table. He reaches for your hand again, taking a deep breath. "It's a promise ring," he explains, his voice husky. "A symbol of my commitment to you, to us."

You feel the weight of the ring in his hand, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. "A promise?" you repeat, your heart racing.

"A promise," Lukáš confirms, his voice steady. "To be here, to support you, to love you, through all the games, the wins and the losses." He pauses, looking into your eyes. "And if you ever want more, just say the word."

You're speechless, the ring glinting in the candlelight. You've never been one for grand gestures, but this… this feels right. The warmth of his hand, the earnestness in his gaze, it all clicks into place. This is the kind of love you've always hoped for—unexpected, unyielding, and wrapped up in homemade pasta and chocolate truffles.

"Lukáš," you start, your voice a little shaky, "this is…"

"Too much?" he asks, his own voice filled with uncertainty.

You shake your head, your eyes never leaving the ring. "No, it's perfect," you murmur. "It's more than perfect."

Lukáš slides the ring onto your finger, his hands steady despite the tremor in his voice. It fits perfectly, as if it was made just for you. "Good," he says, his smile reaching his eyes. "I knew it would."

You sit there for a moment, the ring glinting in the candlelight, feeling the weight of the promise on your hand. "Thank you," you murmur, the words feeling inadequate for the depth of emotions swirling inside you.

Lukáš's gaze holds yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your knuckles. "You're welcome," he says, his voice a warm caress. "But the night isn't over yet."

The promise in his eyes sends a thrill through you, and you realize that the surprise isn't just about the food or the ring. It's about the journey he's crafted, a romantic evening that's as much about the little things as it is about the grand gestures.

"What's next?" you ask, your voice a mix of wonder and anticipation.

Lukáš winks at you, his eyes full of mischief. "I've got one more surprise," he says, rising from his chair. He disappears into the kitchen, returning with a tray of steaming hot chocolate.

"I made it from scratch," he explains, setting the tray down on the coffee table. The mugs are filled to the brim, a fluffy cloud of whipped cream adorning each one. "It's a recipe from my babička, my grandmother. She always said it's the perfect end to a romantic dinner."

You take a sip, the rich chocolate warming your throat. "It's incredible," you say truthfully. The sweetness is balanced with a hint of bitterness that grounds it, much like your relationship—sweet moments with a hint of the challenges that come from two people navigating their careers and hearts.

Lukáš settles back into his chair, watching you with a content smile. "I'm glad you like it."

You take another sip of the heavenly hot chocolate, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "It's the perfect ending to an amazing night," you say, leaning back in your chair.

Lukáš's eyes sparkle with satisfaction. "I'm happy you liked it all."

You lean back into the cushions, your belly full and your heart even fuller. The warmth of the hot chocolate is echoed in the glow of the room. The candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, and the music plays softly in the background, a serenade to your newfound love.

Lukáš reaches over, his hand brushing against your thigh, sending a shiver of excitement through you. "What do you think?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for approval.

You look down at the ring, feeling the weight of his words. "It's… it's amazing," you finally manage to say. "I never knew I needed this kind of surprise."

Lukáš's smile turns shy. "I wanted to do something to show you that you're not just my partner, but also my teammate, my support system."

You nod, understanding. "You know, I've never had anyone who cared so much about what makes me happy," you admit, your voice a little wobbly.

"Well, I do," Lukáš says, his thumb still tracing circles on your hand. "And I want to keep making you happy, every day."

[in1-nutshell]

Poll Winners: Maxima and Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Cybertronian reader

RID/TFP

“So… have you told Bumblebee yet?”

Maxima crossed her arms refusing to look at Ophelia. Not that it was hard, she could always look forward and ignore the minibot below. Sadly, the monster truck didn’t have it in her to ignore her, not with the raging storm in her helm right now.

“Not yet.”

Ophelia sighed a bit. “And when are you planning on doing it?”

Maxima shifted the weight on her pedes a bit. “Lia I haven’t even talked to Grimlock about it. I’ll do it but not now.”

Ophelia raised her optics while side glancing at Maxima. “You still haven’t talked to him about it? After everything that has happened, I would have expected that you two would have been talking about it for months. It would have explained the long periods of time without seeing either of you.”

“We were just on patrol.”

“Uh huh.”

Hot warmth flared in her system. “Ophelia!”

Ophelia crossed her arms and looked up at her. “Then what have you two been doing? It can’t be that terrible.”

Maxima coughed a bit in her servo before relenting in a defeated tone. “…Russel showed Grimlock an old TV show and has been begging to watch it after patrol. The show grows on you after the first few episodes, it’s becoming a bit of a tradition at this point—Oh don’t give me that look!”

Ophelia was struggling to keep the chuckles in her, but it was almost laughable. Maxima of Iacon, the daughter of the last Prime, watching old shows with her partner.

Almost laughable, but it was also sweet.

“Softy.”

“I—you-- …Yeah…”

The two chuckled before falling once again into silence. Ophelia looked up at Maxima with knowing optics. A lot had changed between the past few years. From being in a war, losing father figures by the end of it, adjusting to peacetime, and finding partners. If you’d tell them both that these events would happen, Maxima would have probably been on the floor laughing while Ophelia might have commed in Ratchet to get you checked up.

The minibot was happy with her Conjunx, Steve. Maxima had been over the moon hearing that she was going to go through with the rites. Ophelia only wished her the same happiness.

“You know, if you are having serious thoughts about going through with it, you need to talk to him about this before anything else. And if you need pointers, Steve and I would be happy to help, right?” Ophelia remarked.

Maxima flashes a grateful smile and sits down next to the minibot. She did the same.

“Don’t go dragging your poor Conjunx into a mess he doesn’t know about.”

“Steve will help you if you need it, Maxi. Seriously, you say the word, he’ll help with whatever he can.”

Maxima hummed at the comment. A heavy silence blankets them both. The taller bot sported a nervous and concentrated look while staring at the ground as if it were the most fascinating thing in the universe. Ophelia just waited patiently; she would tell her eventually.

“… It’s a big leap…” Maxima whispered as if saying it too loud would set something off.

Ophelia just nodded in agreement. “I know.”

“A big commitment…”

“I know.”

“And what if he doesn’t want it? What if it’s too soon? What if it scares him off? What if—”

Ophelia stood up and waved her servos at Maxima to calm down.

“Woah, woah, woah! Calm down Maxi.” She placed her servos on her side and looked at her in the optics. Maxima slowly quieted down while fidgeting with her digits. The minibot took her servos and held them. It was almost comedic seeing how stark was the size difference.

“Calm?” Maxima could only shrug. Good enough.

“Now, it’s fair for you to have these feelings. It’s totally normal. While the ‘what if’s’ can be useful, they aren’t right now. Also, are you telling me Grimlock would say no?”

“He could!”

Ophelia gave her a deadpan stare. “The green dinobot, who’s had optics on you since you came here? The same bot who is practically attached to your hip and ready to do anything you want to do? That Grimlock, really?”

Maxima huffed and crossed her arms with a bit of annoyance. Ophelia continued.

“Just at least try asking him. That’s what I did, and I turned out just fine.”

Maxima gave her an unamused look as it got quiet again. If any other bot besides Ophelia and Bumblebee saw Maxima go quiet for this long, they might have been concerned. Not that she wasn’t, but there was a difference in silences coming from such a lively bot. Thankfully this wasn’t one of her ‘vengeance’ silences, but more reflective ones.

After a bit, Maxima stood up with a confident look on her face. Ophelia could only smile back; the monster truck always did have an infectious smile.

“You know what? I’m going to do it! Right now! Go ahead and make those calls Lia, we are going to have them come over no matter what! Thanks Lia!”

Ophelia only chuckled as Maxima walked off with a new wave of determination and slight bounce in her step. She chuckled a bit before heading to the main console. If everything went according to plan, she would need to make those calls… and would also win the bet she had with Steve.

BING!

Perfect timing!

“Hello? Yes, yes, it’s great to hear from you all too. Listen-- yes, it’s been a while but I’m calling about Maxima…”

…

She could do this.

She could do this.

She could do this.

Maxima kept on repeating it to herself. All she needed to do was find Grimlock and tell him. That was it. She fought Decepticon armies, Megatron and literal Predacons. This was going to be simple. Just let the words spill and wait for the results.

Simple!

Just tell him about how she wanted him to be her partner, for life.

Tell him about the plans she had already thought about their Conjunx Rites. Obviously while also asking for his part and opinions on it, it was going to be his ceremony too.

She could do this. Just talk to him.

Maxima found Grimlock in his dino mode carefully balancing Russel on his head while they were singing off key to one of Denny’s playlists.

Spinning on his pedes, he caught sight of her, a giant smile quickly forming on his face. He waved at her happily.

“Maxi!”

… Oh, Primus she couldn’t do it! Abort mission! Abort! ABORT! ABORT!

With a nervous smile she waved back.

“H-hey Grimlock. H-how are you?”

She internally screamed at herself for stuttering and just awkwardly waving. What was she a youngling?! Hopefully she could just bounce back from this—

“I’m doing fine! Russel and I found this rock.” He held the small rock in his digits and carefully placed in in her servos.

“I thought you’d like it!”

Maxima just swore that her father and the other Prime’s were just playing a cruel joke at this point. How in the world was she supposed to talk to him about the rites with her helm and spark all mushy!

Smiling weakly, she stuffed the rock into her subspace. Grimlock raised an optic at the smile.

“Umm… You, okay?”

Maxima let out an involuntary squeak noticing how close Grimlock was. Face plates literally inches apart. There was confusion and slight worry in his big optics. He placed a servo on her helm, copying that thing that humans did when they got sick.

“You feeling, okay Maxima?”

Oh, sweet Alpha Trion, she was in over her helm…

“I-I’m fine. Fit as a fiddle as the humans say!”

PRIMUS WAS THAT A VOICE CRACK!!! ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION! ABORT!

Grimlock looked unconvinced. He lowered his helm, letting Russel slide off. The human looked at her worried.

“You want me to call Fix-It?” Russel asked.

Primus the boy was sweet to offer help, but she was 110% that Fix-It wouldn’t be able to help her with this.

She smiled at his concern. “I’m fine Rusty. I… I just need to talk to Grimlock about something in private.”

The boy nodded and walked off, probably to go find Sideswipe.

Maxima turned back to Grimlock and all her nerves came back full force.

Oh boy…

“What ya wanted to talk about?”

She began fidgeting with her digits again and looked down. The action alone set off silent alarm bells in Grimlock’s helm. There weren’t too many times that Maxima looked small. Being one of the biggest bots on the team, it was hard thing to do. But now, she might as well have crawled into a fetal position. And because of him! Did something happen? Did he do something to her? He couldn’t remember doing anything wrong… or maybe that’s why she was like this!

Maxima let a shaky vent out before looking at him.

“Grim… I… We…”

Oh, to the Pits with this! She took a deep vent and continued.

“Grimlock… We’ve been together for a while. Had our ups and downs. Though, I haven’t had many bad moments with you. Frustrated and sad, yes, but never bad. I love you with all my spark and more than I can possibly put into words. You’ve changed my life for the better and I want to thank you for that, truly. Heh, I would have never thought I’d be in this position a couple years ago, but that just proves how much love can do to a bot… I guess what I’m trying to say is… Grimlock would you do me the absolute honor in being my Conjunx Endura?”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. He only blinked and stared at her with a dumbfound look on his face. Maxima was slowly starting to regret ever opening her mouth.

“Grimmy… this is the part where you say something… anything… please…”

“…Me?” He pointed at himself. Maxima blinked in confusion.

“Yes you?” Grimlock blinked several times before pointing to himself.

“Me Grimlock? Me? You want me to be your Conjunx?”

Maxima nodded still waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I do… listen Grimlock if you don’t—EEP!”

CLANK!

Maxima was literally swept off her pedes bridal style as Grimlock threw his helm back and laughed. He swayed them both back and forth in a happy rhythm. She never heard this laugh before… it was nice.

“YES! YES! YES! YES!!!”

She was glad that her faceplate was semi-smooched against his chassis as the tears of relief and happiness began to spill out. Laughter began spilling out of her lips as she tried wrapping her arms around him. She readjusted herself so she could try and wrap her legs around his midsection. They only managed so far in his dinobot mode. With all the swinging around, the dinobot accidentally tripped over his own pede and sent them both to the ground.

Grimlock laid down on his back with Maxima securely wrapped in his arms. He looked up at her with a blinding yet loving smile. She reached and booped his snout, a dopey smile adoring her face.

“I love you Sweetspark.”

“I love you more!” He pulled her closer at the end of that sentence. She snuggled closer than she thought was possible.

Looked like everything was going to be alright.

…

Bumblebee knew he should have suspected something was going to happen when Ophelia refused to answer his questions. Mainly the one’s surrounding Maxima’s whereabouts. Sure, it wasn’t exactly his business, but he was team leader. What kind of leader doesn’t know where his team was?

But no! He had better luck asking a brick wall for directions than asking his pseudo sister again.

Ophelia managed to avoid answering the question all day. Normally, he would go ask Grimlock about Maxima, but he was also missing. Last he heard the dinobot had been with Russel, but the boy was with Sideswipe and Strongarm now. Drift was trying to meditate with his minibots and Fix-It not too far away. Denny had just woken up from his afternoon nap.

“You, okay Bee?”

Bumblebee jumped a bit when Steve placed a servo on his shoulder. Despite having a vizor for optics, it was clear that there was some concern behind them. A couple years ago the thought of the Vechicon being one of his closest friends would have sent him to the med bay for laughing too hard.

There was a bit of a rough start between the two mechs, with the whole ex-con thing. The rift opening wider he found out Ophelia had chosen him to be her Conjunx. Everyone said they saw it coming from miles away, but truthfully, he never saw it. Bumblebee made sure to give Steve a version of ‘The Shovel Talk’ away from prying optics or audials. Maxima found out about this and after a swift hit to the back of the helm, gave him a through talking about giving the Vechicon a chance.

…

Bumblebee remembered seeing Maxima leaning against a nearby wall looking at Ophelia and Steve. The couple happily chatting about the ceremony and what they were going to get for their new home. The pair completely missing the somber look not too far away.

He remembered jumping when Maxima suddenly spoke out loud.

“The last time I saw her this happy was a week before the hearing at the Senate.”

Bee calmed his racing spark and stood by her side with his arms crossed. It was always  that the pair had known each other about as long as Optimus had known Megatron.

“Megatronus let her win during a play fight while I had managed to clip him in the face. Orion offered to get us some fresh rust sticks for ‘defeating the mighty Megatronus in combat’. She was gripping Megatronus’s helm with sticky digits while I was trying to convince Orion that I was strong enough to carry him all the way back home.”

She laughed a bit at the memory before going quiet again. He spoke up. “You’re worried about her too?”

“Of course, I am. But I trust that Lia knows what she’s doing.”

Bumblebee looked at her in disbelief. Maxima rolled her optics at him. “Its her life Bee Bee. If she believes that Steve is Conjunx material, then I believe her.”

“DO you think he is?”

She chuckled a bit at the statement making him huff in annoyance. “I’m serious Maxima.”

“Bumblebee, Ophelia’s wants and needs are not the same as mine. I do know that Steve is a good bot though. He’ll treat her like a queen.”

“And all thanks to my talk with him.” Bumblebee said proudly. Maxima squinted her optics at him before lightly slapping his arm.

“Scaring the poor bot is not something to be proud of Bee.”

The smaller bot crossed his arms fraying annoyance but took in the words of the monster truck.

“So, we just have to trust her then? That’s it?”

Maxima nodded her helm. “Yeah, and it also doesn’t hurt to actually get to know Steve you know.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.”

Maxima shrugged. “Only so much I can do on my end. See you in a couple hours Bee, I got some work to do in restoration.”

She only got in a couple of feet before he blurted out. “Wait!”

Maxima looked back. “Yeah?”

The younger bot suddenly felt embarrassed by the question in his helm… but he really did want to know.

“What are you looking for a Conjunx anyways?”

Maxima laughed loudly at this. “Oh Bee, I’m not looking for anyone right now. Not that I think someone would come along anyways… BUT since you asked and I’m in a good mood… I think I’d be pretty happy with a bot who respects me and can make me laugh. I think I can handle a goof ball. I mean I’ve had to deal with you for years.”

“Hey!”

…

And she was right. It took some time, but the distrust fell and up rose the trust in the ex con.

“Bee?”

Oh yeah, he still hadn’t answered.

“I’m fine. Just worried where Maxima and Grimlock went off to.”

Steve waved his servo off handedly. “I’m sure they’re alright.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Steve looked at him, confused. “…You do remember that they are the team’s heaviest hitters, right? I think we’d know if something happened to them. Like a big explosion or something.”

Bumblebee was about to respond when a loud crashing sound along with yelling was heard. The noise catches everyone’s attention.

Strongarm pulled out her crossbow. “That sounded like Grimlock and Maxima!”

Bee quickly got out his Decepticon hunter and activated it.

Most of the team had already started towards the noise when Grimlock came in running with Maxima in his arms. Fearing for the worst, Bee tried to look over for any signs of injury or struggle.

“Grimlock what happened!?”

“I SAID YES!”

…What?

Everyone was confused by the sudden statement… except Ophelia. The minibot had dropped her data pad and held a bright smile.

“She did it!? She asked you!?”

The dinobot happily nodded nuzzling Maxima’s helm. The poor bot hid her face in her servos and refused to look at anyone.

“Don’t worry, she’s just a bit shy.”

…huh?

Maxima ‘The Last Prime’s daughter’/ ‘Oldest of the youngest’/ ‘I laugh in the face of danger’… SHY?!

Bumblebee’s thoughts were interrupted by Ophelia squealing in glee. She turned to Steve.

“I won the bet! I told you she could do it!”

Steve hung his helm a bit but was still overall happy. “Yeah, yeah you won--”

“CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON!?”

The young leader was so tired and just wanted to know what in the name of Ratchet’s rusty knee joints WAS GOING ON!

Sideswipe piped up. “Yeah, I think we are just as lost as Bee. What are you talking about Grim?”

“And what do you mean by yes?” Added Strongarm.

Grimlock carefully placed Maxima back on her pedes while swinging an arm around her shoulders. Her servos were away from her face, but the flustered look was in full display. Something very few bots and humans could say they have seen. One of Maxima’s servos reaching to intertwine with the dinobots. The action only seemed to widen his grin.

“I asked Grimlock to be my Conjunx.”

“And I said Yes!”

…

“WHAT!?”

“HUH?!”

“REALLY?”

“I KNEW IT!”

Maxima and Grimlock laughed at the surprised and shocked look on the team’s faces. In the wave of shock Ophelia and Steve made their way over to congratulate the couple.

Ophelia winked at Maxima. “See, what did I say?”

Maxima huffed playfully before kneeling to hug the minibot tightly. Ophelia smiled and hugged back… just as Grimlock grabbed them both and Steve on a giant hug.

“Grimlock!” Steve yelped surprised.

Sideswipe grinned at them “Guess you got another thing in common with Grim, Steve.”

“You mean besides going after the daughters of the leaders of the Great war?” asked Strongarm.

“Nope.”

“Choosing a significant other from the same faction?” Drift added.

“Nope, its catching Bee off guard. Look at him, he’s going to catch a bird with his mouth open like that.” Sideswipe pointed at the gob smacked leader in yellow.

Bumblebee snapped out of his trance and coughed. “I saw this coming.”

Maxima snorted from her spot. “Sure, you did Bee Bee.”

“Hey!”

“Umm, what’s Conjunx?”

The bots momentarily turned to the two humans watching the reactions carefully.

“Maxima asked Grimlock to be her Conjunx. Which if I am not mistaken is asking someone to be their spouse.” Drift answered looking at Bumblebee for confirmation. He nodded.

Denny and Russel’s eyes went wide.

“Wait your getting married?!” Russel exclaimed.

“How does that work? Is it like human weddings or is there something else.” asked Denny

“You’ll have to ask Maxima, she already had most of the ceremony planned already.” Said Ophelia as Grimlock finally let them go from the hug. His servo noticeably lingering close to Maxima’s servo

Maxima looked at the minibot with a mix of betrayal and embarrassment. “Ophelia!”

Grimlock hugged her from behind, making her squeak again from the sudden attack. “Aww you shouldn’t have! You must really like me a lot!”

Sideswipe and the minbots giggled at the squeak. Maxima wished that the ground would swallow her whole. But what was worrying her the most was the teasing glint on Ophelia’s optics.

“I made the call Maxi… and they’re coming!”

Maxima’s optics went wide in surprise and excitement.

“They are?! When?!”

“In a few days they’ll be in the city.”

Maxima grabbed Grimlock’s servo and pulled him along. “C’mon we got to start getting everything ready!”

Grimlock, despite not knowing where he was going, was just happy that Maxima was holding his servo.

Once the pair had left, Bumblebee turned to the minibot. “Who’s coming exactly?”

“Well since we don’t exactly have any communications with Cybertron, I can’t exactly call in Team Prime for the ceremony. However, we do have other members here on Earth. So, I took the liberties of calling them to see if they were interested in coming to observe the ceremony with us.”

Bumblebee suddenly went pale at the end of the sentence. Mainly because of the cross look on Ophelia’s face.

“Did it never occur to you about contacting them since you got here? Really Bumblebee?”

“I- I just—It never came up— How come you didn’t?”

“Because I thought you already had, and they didn’t want to come around because they have other things in life!”

Denny raised his hand. “Who exactly is coming?”

Ophelia smiled fondly. “The human members of Team Prime, of course.”

Happy Valentines day!

[lavandulawrites]

Hii! Could I pretty please request a love letter from yandere Diluc and Dottore? Maybe he finally found her adress after she manadged to escape...

Ty 4 reading my request!

Amor’s Love Letter

Yandere Diluc x reader, yandere Dottore x reader

Happy Valentine’s Day! Request for my Valentine Evening are open!

Lavandula’s Valentine Event

Masterlist

Warnings: obsession, future imprisonment, stalking, future murder (not including reader)

To: [Name]

From: Dottore

Dear [Name]

You really did surprise me, even if it only was for a moment. Under other circumstances I would have been proud, as the element of surprise is something I value. Though this was a break of trust and our agreement. Because do not forget what you had agreed with all those months ago.

I must admit I was livid when I received the news of your disappearance. The maids had found your bedroom to be empty they told me. I had the maids and butlers search high and low. Unfortunately they were to incompetent to find any clues on where you might had been hiding. Their lack of intelligence insulted me, so I had them disposed of. It was clear as day that you had escaped through the window.

Had I not been away on the expedition on the orders of The Tsaritsa, I would have found you in the blink of an eye.

However, I am not a genius for nothing. As you read this letter, I am sure you understand that I know where you currently reside. Your little apartment hidden away in a lesser known location in Mondstadt, sure has it charm. Though, I do hope you are aware that your lovely old landlady is going to pay for having you hidden away. I am all too familiar with your distaste of spilled blood. It is a rather adorable trait after all…

When you have received this letter in your worn little mailbox, I have already arrived in Mondstadt. It won’t be long before you and I will have a sweet reunion. I have already picked the date. Valentine’s Day.

I can’t wait to finally have you in my arms again, my dear angel. This time I will make sure to keep your wings clipped. I do hope you will love your new cage.

Sincerely yours

Zandik

To: [Name]

From: Diluc

Dear [Name]

It has been three months since I last saw you. Three months of pure hell.

A day haven’t gone by without you being on my mind. I have missed you so much that at times I thought I would die from heartache. The winery isn’t the same with your absence. The grape vines has lost their colour and the grass is pale. The whole estate is mourning. It is as the day, a home reflects its owner.

I have searched far and wide for you, and I must say you did great at hiding your presence. Though, luckily my network is on of the best in the entirety of Teyvat. It only took two months and four days for me to locate you. It is clear that you have gotten help of others. Worry not, they will pay for their sin. Your new home is charming according to a trusted source. Liyue is great national, though it pains me that you did not want to visit it with me. It is very unfortunate I was away on a business trip to Fontaine, if not I would have found you at once.

When you read this letter, I will have arrived in Liyue. It is useless to try and run, because my men have their eyes on you. I will never get you out of my sight again. When we reunite, we will get married back in Mondstadt.

Happy Valentine’s Day

From your beloved

Diluc

[disdaidal]

I wanna thank my irl friends who follow me here and also my beloved mutuals as well as followers who still send me kind messages and try to interact with me and my stuff even if I'm bad at doing it myself.

Honestly, things haven't been that great with me lately, so... it means a lot to me. Honestly. <3

[pnsge]

never beating the developing crushes on friends allegations part 2: return of jafaar

[fingertipsmp3]

First volunteering shift tomorrow 😵‍💫

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

.

[psychemochanight]

Headcanon that Dick's siblings (-Tim, he knows everything) have no idea that he has a new job every time, and think he's still a cop.

Like Dick every time they mention his police job and he says "I'm not a cop anymore, I'm..." and he names something different every time, they think he's lying.

Jason: Isn't it ironic? One brother is a cop and the other is a crime lord.

Dick: Although I'm not a police officer anymore, I'm a gym teacher.

Jason, thinking he's being sarcastic: Yeah, and I'm not a crime lord anymore as well.

Dick: Good for you.

Damian: Richard, why aren't you in the office? I thought this was your working hours.

Dick, who went to pick up Damian from school: Now I work in the afternoon and at night, I am a bartender.

Damian, doesn't believe him because Dick is Nightwing at night: hm...

Steph, on the phone : Dick, do you think you can get me some reports from the office? There's a case here in Gotham and I think it's spread to Blüdhaven, they probably have them there in the records.

Dick: Steph, I haven't been a police officer for months, but I'll see if I can get through an ex-colleague for you. I'll call you later, I'm in the middle of a photo shoot.

Steph: ok, thank uuuu.

Steph, hanging up the call: If he didn't could help me right now he could say so, there was no need to make up that excuse.

Cass: He might be in an undercover job right now.

Steph: Maybe you're right.

Duke simply refuses to talk to him anymore because he still thinks he's a cop.

Tim: You've been in this job for two months, I think that's a record. Do you like it?

Dick, hanging upside down in the cave: Something like that? I just don't know what I want to do now and I don't want to be unemployed until I decide.

Tim: Hmm... I don't think you want to be in an office again, do you?

Dick: I'm not going back to WE, once was enough for a lifetime.

Tim: Fair enough. Can I at least ask you for a photo shoot for a season to promote the new line?

Dick: Sure, it was fun being a model for a while.

[pears-trinkets]

.

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.