#just slowly figuring out how i draw transformers

[brodudemanbroski]

fart.

some drawings of some losers. i drew starscream on friday, swerve was last night idk what time it was.

[click/tap for better quality]

[revelboo]

I blame you (respectfully) for falling back in love with Starscream… and finding my Transformers Armada Starscream figure after years of him hiding.

Haha he’s too fun to write! 18+ Mutual frustration 🌶️

Everything is Alright Pt 40

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Every day it’s a little harder to ignore. You fall asleep against his chassis alongside his canopy, his servos sliding down your spine until your breathing evens out. And he just lays there staring at the ceiling wanting something he can’t have, aware of your warmth and softness, the feel of your breath on him, an intimacy that makes it even harder to not just give in. Every little touch of those hands on the back of his to get his attention, those little smiles for him alone, drive straight through him, stirring that hunger he shouldn’t even entertain. Those errant thoughts so common now as he watches you and wonders. And needs more now than just your voice and smile. More than he can ask for.

• Primus, help him as you shift against him, a leg sliding over his plating. Making a soft noise in your sleep and he vents as your scent changes. That subtle shift going straight to his spike as he drapes an arm over his face. Tempting him to just free himself and take care of it even though there’s no way to do that without waking you. Gritting his denta he runs a shaking servo along your spine, feeling you arch into the touch with a breathless little murmur. That temptation to just mass shift, roll you under him, and find out if you’re compatible once and for all almost crippling.

• A wicked mouth on your neck as big hands surf along your sides. Exploring slowly as that mouth gently bites then roams your skin in a trail of wet heat as Starscream moves over you. Legs parting for him, welcoming him inside. Needing this. Something bumps your head and the dream slips out of your fingers. Groaning, you lift your flushed face to find him watching you with an almost predatory intensity, the finger he nudged you with lingering against your hair as you come fully awake. That dream again. You don’t even know what is under his plating, but that hasn’t stopped your sex deprived brain from deciding that he not only had the necessary equipment, but that he should play the starring role in your needy little fantasies. And you can only hope you weren’t grinding on him, because you’re wet and already mortified enough about dreaming of sex with him while lying on top of him. Especially as he slowly vents and you wonder just how good his sense of smell is.

• Shuddering under your little frame, he drapes a servo against the back of your shoulders, rubbing gently. Trying to get himself under control when his spike is aching and it’s a struggle to remember why giving in is such a bad idea. Especially when you look up at him like that, your face flushed. Biting back a groan, he curls his servos around you and lifts you from his chassis so he can slide off his berth and carry you to the desk and your things. His touch lingering when you timidly reach to touch his servo. “I’ll see you later,” he growls, leaning down to vent in your scent, reluctant to leave for rotation. But he’ll have to deal with his current problem in the wash racks first.

• The way his voice dipped into that rasping growl does things to you. Completely inappropriate things as you sit on the edge of your bed and watch him go, wondering what exactly is wrong with you that just the sound of his voice can draw you tight with breathless anticipation for something you can’t have. Something impossible.

• Under the spray, he doesn’t even hesitate, freeing his spike and fisting himself as he remembers that little noise you’d made in your sleep. The way your lips had parted as you’d shifted restlessly against him. Pretends you were dreaming of him as he strokes himself, wings trembling. Optics shuttering so he can focus on that image. Pretend your soft little hands are sliding over him. Little head tipped up, lips parted. Would you let him in? What would you taste like against his glossa? Growling as he ruts against his hand, his helm bumps against the wall in front of him as his movements become more urgent. Would you be soft inside too? Hold onto him as he loses himself inside you? Groaning as he releases, his wings shudder and he tilts his face up into the spray. Knows something has to give and soon.

• Hips lifting as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and stroke yourself, you try to chase that high. Need to take off the edge from the dream as you fuck yourself with your fingers and try to recall those lovely details. The shape of Starscream mass displaced but still so big over you, the warm brand of those hands on you. It’s not Star that comes to mind, though. Head thrown back, you whimper as you imagine big hands gripping your hips, tightening until you know there’ll be bruises instead of his usual gentleness. Seeing your own dazed eyes reflected in Soundwave’s visor as he buries himself inside you. Hips snapping against yours, because if this is all you can have, why not claim them both as yours. Why not indulge in harmless fantasies?

• Hand frozen an inch from the access panel, Soundwave vents roughly. Unable to move away or forward as your mind crashes into him from the other side of that door. Your need slipping through his defenses so easily, sinking into him. As he catches glimpses of your thoughts, just little fractured images, but enough to string him tight, because they’re so much more visceral than what he’d picked up from Starscream about you. That need and desperation chained to images of him, fantasies that slip into his own processor and take root. You’re his as much as Starscream’s and somehow you understand that as he presses a palm to his helm, overwhelmed with you. His own spark and spike responding, wanting to claim what’s his.

Previous

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[bring-forth-his-sac]

Kneel

Summary: Negan reminds you what you’re supposed to do whenever you see him in the Sanctuary 

Pairing: Saviors Era Negan x f!reader

Tags: !NSFW!, power play, dominant Negan, swearing, intimidation, erection, pet names

Word Count: 1.8k (this was meant to be under 1k but I once again forgot how to stfu)

“My oh my, where are your manners?”.

Shit. You knew this would happen eventually. It feels as though Negan has had his eye on you for weeks now, just waiting to pop the question. Because obviously, six wives isn’t enough for one man and he’s in need of another.

You, more specifically. 

You’re in the middle of pushing crates piled on to a small trolley when he approaches. He smirks, baring his teeth as he casually swings Lucille by his side. As if the odds are stacked against you, the hallway is empty, leaving only you and Negan. Alone. 

“You’ve been here, what, two months now?” Negan acts as if that’s just a guess and he hasn’t been keeping track.

You stand tall beside the crates, making it abundantly clear that you won't be an easy target for him. Your eyes are steady, a defiant gleam in them as you hold his gaze.

No matter how charming or beneficial being with him would be, you refuse to be some damsel he can have for his own twisted amusement. After all, you’ve taken care of yourself for this long in the apocalypse, why rely on someone like him now?

“I have” you confirm, not wanting this conversation to draw out longer than it needs to. Even if you’re on his good side, it’s hard to feel relaxed with Negan’s attention on you.

He hums in response.

You watch as Negan's gaze shifts, his features becoming more stern as he stands there. It's as if a switch has been flipped, transforming him from the charismatic leader to the cold and dominant figure you know he can be.

“So you gonna do it?” he questions, the sharp edge to his words sending a clear message: he’s not asking, he’s telling.

You can feel your jaw clench. Is he expecting you to just throw yourself at him? Or thank him profusely for allowing you to stay here? 

Feigning innocence, you gesture towards the crates. "Do what? My job?" you retort, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you intimidated. You go to move the crates again when you feel it - the silent warning of Lucille’s sharp tips resting gently on your shoulder. 

Negan maintains a stoic expression, letting Lucille display his authority. His voice is low and gravelly, resembling a growl more than anything else. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, just cause I think you're pretty fuckin’ hot, and ask again" he explains.

Hearing Negan's flippant admission, the way his voice drips with lust as he mentions his attraction to you is enough to send a thrill down your spine. It's a complex feeling to know that a man like Negan is attracted to you. It's thrilling, dangerous, and undeniably exciting all at once.

You hold your breath, expecting Lucille to scratch her way across your face at any moment. But instead, Negan takes a breath and asks again “Whenever I decide to grace your fucking presence, what is it you’re going to do?”.

You feel as if you’re back in school, after getting asked a question by a teacher who knows you weren’t paying attention. You’re unsure what would be worse; to answer incorrectly or to not answer at all. 

Slowly, Negan starts to increase the pressure, Lucille’s spikes digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. She prickles at your skin, the feeling thankfully being more uncomfortable than outright painful.

Instinctively, your legs buckle and you sink to your knees before him. “You kneel.” Negan drawls as you go down “There you go. Not that hard, is it?”. 

Negan eases the pressure, the painful stabs from Lucille's barbed wire gradually lessening as you comply. You breathe a silent sigh of relief, hoping Lucille didn’t break your skin and leave puncture marks in her wake.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a defiant expression, you can feel a flutter of something in your stomach. It’s subtle, but undeniable. You stare up at him with a determined glare, refusing to acknowledge the confused mixture of disdain and arousal coursing through your body.

Negan lets out a low, guttural groan, his head tilting down to meet your gaze directly. His expression is equal parts hunger and satisfaction as he takes in the sight of you kneeling before him.

"Goddamn," he murmurs approvingly, "now this is a view I could get used to”. Negan's signature cocky smirk returns, the brief display of dominance seemingly fulfilled for now. 

It’s easy to feel somewhat distracted in your current position, your head level with his crotch. The temptation to look is strong but you’re aware of what his reaction might be and so you quickly push the thought aside. Fighting with your inner urges, you subconsciously nibble at your lip, accidentally fuelling Negan’s amusement.

He sees straight through you and you know it.

Moving the bat from your shoulder completely, he lightly taps it against the crates. “You come to me if you ever want a change of lifestyle,” he coaxes “I got some real sexy dresses upstairs that haven’t been claimed yet”.

The tension between you both is palpable. There’s no denying that you feel a throbbing sensation between your thighs, the logical side of your mind growing hazy and clouded by lust. Your response catches you off guard, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I think I’d look better without them on," you hear yourself say, the words daring and suggestive.

Are you really flirting with the man who just forced you to kneel!? Damn him.

Negan immediately picks up what you’re putting down, “Oh is that so? Think I’d need to be the judge of that, sweet thing”. 

Bringing his free hand down to your face, Negan surprises you with his soft touch. You can feel his fingertips tracing along your cheekbone before gently cupping your face in his hand. 

The contrasting sides of this man are striking and downright annoying to put up with but you don’t fight against it. It’s hard to decide which side of Negan you actually prefer; the dominant leader that forced you on your knees to satisfy his ego or this charmingly soft man who calls you pretty pet names. 

Unable to resist the temptation, you steal a quick glance forwards. You only sneak a brief look but sure enough, there’s an obvious bulge right there, a mere inches away from your face.

A part of you wants to whimper at the sight but another part of you wants to scoff and get up, stopping this game of cat and mouse no matter the consequences of ‘disrespecting’ his authority.

“Well, damn" he practically groans as you look back up at him "I don't see why we should wait until you try on one of the dresses." His words are direct, the implication clear that he's craving you just as much as you're craving him.

But the ball is in your court now. Negan keeps his hand on your face, staying deliberately still, leaving the next move up to you. He's put his cards on the table, making sure his desires are known. It's up to you to respond, to show him that you want him just as badly.

A thought flickers through your head. How bad would it be if you did hookup with Negan? You know you’d have a good time but there would be consequences. Even though Negan seems casual, there’s no doubt he would push you to become another wife. Once he sinks his claws into you, he won’t simply let go after a hookup or two. Why would he when he can have an unlimited number of wives just for himself?

Before you can make that decision, movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention. You snap your head in their direction, watching as a figure hesitantly comes closer, uncertainty laced in each step.

Joey — or, Fat Joey, as he’s so graciously called by Negan — steps closer, nervously wringing his hands together.

Negan follows your gaze, letting his hand drop from your cheek as he huffs. “Fat Joey! Holy fuck, who knew you could sneak… or cockblock” he exclaims, putting on his bravado act.

Taking advantage of Negan's momentary distraction, you quickly stand up, using the opportunity to distance yourself and get back to work. The feeling of embarrassment washes over you as you realise what that must have looked like for Joey, who just stumbled across you both.

Negan shoots you a quick look. It's not an angry glare but rather a pout, as if he had expected you to patiently wait on your knees until he’s done talking to Joey. 

Joey speaks up, his voice a bit shaky as he tries to sound professional. "Boss, Simon wants to talk to you, he said it’s important" he says, attempting to mimic a soldier's stance "He tried contacting you on the walkie but didn't get an answer". 

Negan reluctantly gives Joey his attention, a hint of annoyance in his expression. You swiftly begin to move the crates, deciding to take Joey’s interruption as some kind of divine intervention that’s telling you not to give into Negan so easily.

“Simon already rounded up the other lieutenant’s, so they’re just waiting for you, sir” Joey rambles on as you pass by. 

Just as you're about to make your exit, you pause, unable to stop yourself from making a snide comment. You turn to Joey, purposely avoiding Negan's gaze. "Oh, Joey," you say with a hint of sarcasm, "don't forget to kneel. He likes that." 

Joey, completely oblivious to the sarcasm behind your words, takes your reminder as sincere advice. He immediately drops to his knees, a look of panic on his face as he hastily apologises. "S-sorry, sir!" he stammers "I didn't mean to forget!".

Negan takes a step back, his hand instinctively going to cover his bulge now that someone else is so close. ”Yeah, sure, just get the fuck up,” Negan grumbles.

As you walk away, you throw a playful goodbye over your shoulder. "Bye, sir," you say with a smirk, feeling a small sense of victory at having left Negan standing there with Joey, who’s still babbling on.

Negan stays silent, mulling over his thoughts. He can hear Joey drone on but he isn't interested. There's only one thing on Negan’s mind.

You’re definitely a keeper.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I am so excited to see your requests open again!

I was wondering if we could get some “reader has to win Eddie back” after doing something stupid or something . Request by @mugloversonly

Angst and fluff ❤️ Eddie and reader fight but reader makes it up to Eddie.

❤️

You couldn't believe how badly you had messed up, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

"When are you going to grow up Eddie and stop playing these stupid make believe kids games. No wonder it took you so long to graduate"

The two of you had been in the middle of a fight; that was rare in itself as the two of you never thought and you blurted out those words and had regretted them ever since.

It wasn't as if that was really how you felt, you loved how passionate Eddie was about D&D and had said it solely just to hurt him. Now you were wracked with guilt for what you said about that and him graduating.

Graduation was a sore spot for Eddie and you were kicking yourself for rubbing it in his face.

Now the two of you weren't talking and you couldn't blame Eddie for not wanting to talk to you. Even though him not speaking to you was excruciating, you missed him and the ache in your chest wasn't going away.

At school Eddie saw you heading his way and promptly turned his back on you but not before you saw the pain in his eyes.

When you approached him to talk he would mumble some excuse and go off with Gareth leaving you with a sympathetic Jeff. "He's hurting right now so maybe it's best to give him a little time yeah?" Swallowing back tears you nod and Jeff pats you on the shoulder then follows Eddie.

Eddie who's staring at the tears in your eyes and looks like he wants to say something but decides against it and walks away, the agony in his eyes leaves you aching.

Your words had caused that look and now you needed to fix this and you knew just how to do it.

🥰

Dustin and Lucas were roped into helping you. Mike was busy with Will as both of them are helping Eddie paint figures for his new campaign.

So with the boys help you tell them your plan and they are eager to help. You're going to transform your basement into a space where Eddie can host Hellfire campaigns.

Dustin is going to lead Eddie here somehow meanwhile Lucas helps you move things around so the long table you have in the basement is in the centre of the room.

There's a chair in the corner that's distinctively thrown like that you found in a thrift store, you were planning to give it to Eddie when he found a base for his campaigns so it was perfect as his Dungeon Master throne.

Gareth had offered to draw a large poster of the Hellfire Club logo and Dustin helped pick out a few d&d figures at the store.

When the room was finished you were anxious to get Eddie here and while you waited for Dustin to persuade Eddie to come you set out a few snacks and things.

"Will you calm down" Gareth soothes, "Eddie will love this" he reassures you and you nod still nervous as hell but feeling slightly better.

"Eddie will love what?" You turn around and Eddie is standing beside Dustin and gazing at the place in awe.

Anxious but determined you gesture around the room and smile "surprise!" you exclaim and Eddie looks stunned at first but slowly, a beaming smile graces his features.

You know he's been struggling for space to host meetings and you've been wanting to help him out for a long time.

"I thought you'd like this, a space where you can play and host campaigns where you don't have to worry, I know you've been struggling to find a place so I hope this is okay?"

For a second Eddie just stares at you still shocked but then he strides forward and kisses you, he's thrumming in excitement. "Are you kidding me princess? I love this" you exhale in relief and apologise for what you said during the fight.

"I'm so sorry for what I said Eddie. I didn't mean it and just said it in the heat of the movement. I love love how passionate you are about D&D and I should have never brought up the graduation thing, that was low and I'm sorry"

He softens and nods at your apology, "I'm sorry too. I hate fighting with you. Let's promise not to do that or at least have better communication skills so it's not as bad as this time. Yeah?" he suggests and you nod eagerly, when Eddie pulls you in his arms you feel content for the first time in days.

"Yeah. Let's do that" you're just so happy that he's here and you're in his arms. The last couple of days had been so lonely and awful without Eddie by your side, like a part of you was missing.

"I missed you so much" you tell him and he pulls you closer to him, kisses your forehead and then moves to your lips.

"I missed you too princess, so much" you cuddle into him and it's only when the others ask if they can set up a mini campaign that the two of you break apart.

"Milady would you join me on a quest?" he kisses the palm of your hand and you giggle nodding as he leads you to the table.

[mochiwrites]

title: a greenhouse heart.

warning(s): graphic depictions of violence, blood, injury, general superhero story warnings

chapter(s): 1/?

relationship: scar/grian

summary:

He slowly looks over at Hotguy, “Hey, you okay?” He meets the tinted glass of Hotguy’s visor, unable to read his face clearly.

“Oh me?” Hotguy lifts his head up, eyes coming through his visor again, the angle allowing it to shift to something translucent. “I’m peachy! Can’t please everyone, y’know. Gotta just let it roll off your back like waves over a rock’s surface,” he chuckles brightly, a smile on his face.

Cuteguy can’t help but frown at him. He’s worked with Hotguy long enough now that he likes to think he’s pretty good at reading the man. He knows a fake smile when he sees one (he’s also painfully aware of how big a heart the man has, the one that he likes to hide behind the act he puts on for the public. He too had fallen for that act once, but now he knows. It’s part of what draws him in. What made him—).

“I see that frown, Cutie,” Hotguy hums. “I’m fine, I promise.”

or, hotguy and cuteguy have been working together as partners for a while now, and they've managed to overcome just about anything. but this next challenge may leave them with more complications than they first thought.

read on ao3 here!

reblogs do more than likes!

finally.... the context of "whoa sir" is shared.... /silly. giving a proper shot at writing a hotguy/cuteguy au now that I'm on summer break and I reworked some stuff for the au :D I'm very excited for some of the stuff I've got figured out for the fic hehe <33 hero au time !!!!

[rylem33]

Fun and Games

Jonas looked up as Aimee emerged from the bedroom, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. She wasn’t wearing the baggy hoodie and leggings she’d had on moments earlier. Now she was wearing a dress that was barely there. Her body was thinner, more toned, and impossibly sexy. Even the way she walked was different.

“Hey, babe,” she purred, her voice smoother, sultrier. She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes scanning him predatorily. “You’re looking… cute tonight.”

Jonas blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. Just moments earlier she scampered into the bedroom, her normal self and now she was… “Aimee? What the hell’s going on? What… what happened to you?”

She tilted her head and smiled, letting the question linger as she strolled closer. “What do you mean? Don’t you like it?” She gestured to herself, spinning slowly to show off every inch of her transformed figure. “I mean isn’t this working for you?”

Jonas shook his head, his heart pounding. “No, I mean…you’re gorgeous, but this isn’t you. You were just…..”

“Just what?” she interrupted, stopping a few steps away. “Plain? A little frumpy? Let’s not sugarcoat it, Jonas.” She smirked, a dangerous glint in her eye. 

Jonas took a step back, looking at the deck of cards on the table. The Role With It game was something they found at a local hobby shop and thought was cute. The instructions said draw a card and have fun. “What was the card you drew?”

Aimee’s smile widened, slowly. “Oh, that? I don’t remember what it was called.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Funny, huh? One little card, and suddenly…” She trailed off, running her hands down her sides. “Boom. Instant upgrade.”

Jonas stared, his mouth dry. “Aimee, that game was just supposed to be a stupid novelty! We didn’t know it would…”

“Change me?” she finished for him, her voice sweet but her undertone was something else. “Yeah, well. Surprise!” She stepped closer, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “But you know what, Jonas? I think I like it. I feel… amazing.”

She reached out, her fingers lightly trailing up his chest. “And you? You look like you’re enjoying the new me, too.” She let out a soft, throaty moan, leaning in close. “Mmm… God, just looking at you is getting me all worked up.”

Jonas froze, his eyes locked on Aimee as she drifted closer, her every movement making his pulse race. He swallowed hard, his mind grappling with confusion, awe, and a deep, unshakable unease.

“Aimee, I don’t…this isn’t right,” he stammered, backing up slightly as she leaned into his space. “We have to stop it. Maybe there’s a way to undo the card.”

“Undo it?” she whispered, her breath warm and tantalizing against his ear. “Why would we do that?” Her lips brushed the corner of his jaw, lingering just enough to send shivers down his spine. “Don’t you like this?” she murmured, her tone slipping into a low, sultry moan. “Because I do. Mmm… I really do.”

Jonas’s knees nearly buckled as she tilted her head back, a throaty sigh escaping her lips. Her hands skimmed down his chest, her nails lightly grazing the fabric of his shirt. “Just touching you is… electric,” she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. She pressed closer, her curves molding against him as her fingers curled around the back of his neck.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” she continued, her lips hovering inches from his. “So alive. So… hungry.” She let out another soft moan, her eyelids fluttering as if she were savoring every second. “Don’t you feel it, Jonas? This insane chemistry between us?”

Jonas’s heart pounded in his chest, each word tugging him deeper. “I… I feel it,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. His hands hovered over her waist, trembling.

“That’s it,” she purred, guiding his hands to rest on her hips. “See? Doesn’t that feel good? Just let go, Jonas. Let me show you how good this can be.”

Her lips brushed his in the barest hint of a kiss, her breath mingling with his as she whispered, “You make me feel so… wild.” Her moan, this time, was louder, rawer, sending heat straight through him. She smiled, one of her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer and the other reaching into his pants, stroking his dick. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

Jonas’s head swam as he gave in to her touch, her words. He could feel the warmth of her body, the way she moved against him, the electric thrill of her teasing lips.

“Aimee,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “I want you…”

Her laughter shattered the moment, sharp and cutting. She stepped back abruptly, her expression twisting into a cruel smirk.

“You want me?” she repeated, her tone dripping with mockery. “Oh, Jonas.” She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “You’re adorable. You really thought I was into you? That all of this…” She gestured to herself with a slow, deliberate motion, from her flawless hair to her killer heels. “…was for you?”

Jonas staggered, his breath catching. “I…I thought…” His words died on his lips as her expression darkened.

“Of course you did.” Her laugh was cold, slicing through him like a blade. “You’re such an easy mark. A couple of moans, a little flirting, and you’re practically falling over yourself to worship me.” She tilted her head, her smile razor-sharp. “Pathetic.”

His stomach twisted as realization hit him like a punch. “Aimee, what are you saying?,” he whispered. “That card…it’s making you…”

“Making me what?” she interrupted, her voice low and dangerous. “Making me honest? Making me hot, sexy? Making me see you for what you really are…a desperate little boy?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Guess what, Jonas? We played the game, drew the card, and now you get to deal with the consequences.”

“I didn’t mean for this!” Jonas pleaded, his voice rising.  He bent down and picked up the card she dropped on the way to the bedroom. The Cruel Temptress.  “Oh God, I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know? Of course you didn’t. But that’s the beauty of it.” She leaned in close, her smile widening. “I’ve never felt better, Jonas. And you?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, lethal and mocking. “You’ll never feel worse.”

Before he could respond, she spun on her heel, her laughter ringing out as she strode toward the door. “Enjoy the game, babe,” she called over her shoulder, as she slammed the door shut behind her.

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 13

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. kissing, hair pulling, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the finale!!! it's been real you guys :') hope you enjoy <3

previous chapter | series masterlist

Yuji leans over you, pink hair tickling the top of your forehead as he brings his lips to brush against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he awaits your answer.

You swallow, trying to figure out what to say, but before your mouth can move, you feel heat building between your legs. He tilts his head to the side, grin transforming into a smirk. “What, can’t get your thoughts out, pretty? C’mon, you know how much I love when you use your words,” he teases.

He’s so close to you now, his padded fingertips tracing your skin, the feeling making you nervous for some reason as a mix of sweet butterflies and sinful desire grows inside of you. “Y-yes,” you stutter out.

“Yes what?” he whispers against your mouth.

“Fuck me,” you breathe.

You feel his lips pull wider into a full smile before they press into yours. He moves his teeth around your bottom lip and gently bites as you sigh into his mouth. His tongue moves past your lips and glides over yours. The hand that was drawing circles along your hip moves down to the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your hands move down to tug them off, tossing them across the room.

Yuji lets out a quiet laugh against your lips at the movement, loving how well you anticipate his thoughts without having to even say anything. Moving his fingers lower, he traces over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot in your panties that slowly formed beginning the first moment he placed his hands on your skin.

“Wow, s’wet for me already, sweets?” he teases between kisses.

“You wanna play that game?” you taunt. Without separating your lips from his, you reach a hand down his torso, over the waistband of his sweats, and down until you feel the bulge straining against his pants. His cock twitches as your fingers caress over it through the soft cloth, causing Yuji to whine into your mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” you chuckle against him.

Suddenly he shifts so he’s fully on top of you. He pulls away from your lips and you open your eyes, only to be met with his half-lidded brown ones above yours. Now between your legs, he slowly thrusts his hips up so his cock drags against your pussy. The sensation makes your eyes flutter closed and back arch, even through two layers of fabric. A soft, “F-fuck,” leaves your lips as you try to grind your hips back against him, desperate for more.

He moves so his mouth settles into that spot between your jawline and ear, the one he knows you love, as he whispers, “Not so cocky now, are we?” He tries to hide how his voice shakes, the sensation of you moving against him threatening to send him over the edge before he has even begun.

Briefly pulling your skin between his teeth, he sucks just enough to leave a pretty bruise on your neck. Letting everyone know you’re his. The thought alone makes his cock twitch and he moans, bucking his hips up against you.

The realization sets in that if he keeps moving like this, he’ll finish before he’s able to do anything for you. Pulling away from your neck he shifts his eyes to your face. Your eyes blink open to look at him, your cheeks flushed as you bring one hand up to rest in his hair. The feeling makes him melt into your touch, but he knows he can’t stay here forever. His eyes trace down your body, landing on the soaked panties still covering your sex. He bites his lower lip as his gaze moves back up to meet yours and you nod, knowing what he is asking.

His eyes light up at the shared understanding and he repositions himself with his head between your thighs. He slides your panties down your legs before returning his sights to the beauty before him. Your bare cunt, glistening with how wet you are, your perfect folds and-

“Yuji,” you whisper, pulling him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flit up to yours and he grins before diving into your pussy. He laps up your essence, moaning softly into your wet skin. “S’sweet, s’good,” he murmurs to himself, tongue tracing up and down you.

He brings one hand off the bed, slowly applying pressure to your entrance before sliding it in. You let yourself moan, knowing he likes it, as your back arches slightly off the bed. Another finger goes into you as he begins curling them toward your sweet spot. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he latches his lips around you and gently sucks at the sensitive bud.

Tension builds in your stomach as you feel yourself getting close, the rhythmic pulsing of his fingers inside you combined with the roughness of his tongue becoming too much for you to bear. Your grip on his hair tightens, eyes closing.

“Yuji, I’m gonna-” The words cut off as he suddenly brings you to your first orgasm. Your thighs try to close around him but his hands hold your shaking legs apart. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you ride the blissful high.

As you return to your senses, there is only one thought in your mind: you need more.

Yuji sits back at the end of the bed, grinning at you with pride. As you open your eyes, you feel the deep desire, the need, within you growing. You lean up on your forearms to steady yourself before slowly crawling forward towards him, eyes locked on his lips.

“That was pretty damn good, don’t ya think?” he says, almost laughing before his eyes suddenly meet yours. Your wide pupils, flushed cheeks, and slow breathing make him gulp. He has no idea what he’s in for.

“Off,” you state, glancing down at his sweatpants, now adorned with a slight damp spot from his precum. He takes in a breath at your sudden forcefulness before immediately ripping them off and throwing them across the room, allowing his cock to stand fully erect.

You place a hand on his chest and gently push him down against the bed before shifting your weight back so your face is aligned between his legs. The sight of his dick makes your mouth water - the slight flush of his tip, the drops of precum glistening, the veins that cover his length - it’s all so perfect. Looking up at him, you slowly open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing the saliva that had been building in your mouth to slowly drip down. It hits Yuji’s tip as he hisses from the sensation, closing his eyes momentarily.

Lowering your head down slightly, he once again reaches his hands up to gather your hair and hold it above your head. You smirk - you even remembered a hair tie today, but you say nothing. Tongue still out, lips parted, your mouth finally reaches his cock. You swirl around his tip for a moment before closing your eyes and taking his entire length down your throat at once. The sudden feeling of your warmth around him makes him moan, forcing his hips up off the bed involuntarily. Your eyes water at the additional pressure, but you know you can take it.

Pulling back slightly, you take another breath in before plunging your head back down. Yuji seems to control himself better this time, but you can still feel his cock beginning to twitch against your tongue as you move up and down him.

“H-hey,” he whispers softly. You hear him, but you can’t stop, addicted to the feeling of him knocking against the back of your throat. Suddenly, you feel a tension at the back of your head as Yuji pulls your hair, yanking you off his dick with a pop from the suction you had created. You whine at the mixture of no longer having him inside your mouth and at the rough sensation of him pulling you. He holds you so you can look him in the eyes and he takes in the sight of you: pupils unfocused, mouth hanging open in a loose smile, with a mix of drool and precum slipping out the corners of your lips. The sight makes him somehow impossibly harder. “I-I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, sweets,” he murmurs.

You pout in response, knowing you would struggle to form words at this point. He chuckles at your reaction. “I know, I know, but remember, there’s something we’ve gotta do first,” he says, leaning back over you, a smirk forming on his lips. “I still want to fuck you.”

His hands release your hair and instead move to take your top off, lifting it over your shoulders with ease. He then places his palms against your ribcage and gently pushes you onto your back as he moves himself on top of you. One hand steadies himself on the bed while the other reaches down to his base, aligning himself with your entrance.

“You lemme know f’I’m goin’ to fast or too slow, okay?” his words starting to slur together from desire. All you can do is nod eagerly as you look up at him. You sense his need, too, through his half-lidded eyes that refuse to look away from your lips.

He presses into you slowly, stretching your walls around him as his tip enters you. He groans from the sensation. “Fuck, s’wet, s’warm,” he breathes.

Pausing for a moment to ensure that you’re okay, he glances down at you as your cunt clenches around him, demanding more.

“Please Yuji,” you whisper, “please.” The two words were the only ones echoing in your mind, the only thing you can think of is your need for him.

Continuing again, he slowly moves further into you. The feeling of him stretching you, expanding to fit him perfectly, nearly brings him to the edge. But for you, it’s not enough. You arch your back as you move your hips up, trying to fill yourself with him. Yuji falls forward at the sudden warmth along his length, catching himself with his forehead against your shoulder. With one final movement of his hips, he bottoms out. The feeling of him fully inside you, fully yours, is almost too much for the poor boy as he rests against you, shaking, trying not to finish from his first thrust.

“Yuji?” you whimper.

“Mhm?” he hums against you, still not able to lift his head from your shoulder as he attempts to steady his breathing.

“Faster, please?”

He grits his teeth at your pleas. He can do this; he has to do this, for you.

Moving his hips back he drags himself out of you, eliciting a moan as you tilt your head back into the pillows beneath you.

Suddenly, his hips lurch against you, his pelvis hitting the skin between your legs as he thrusts his full length into you. A soft scream leaves your throat as you move your legs off the bed to wrap around the back of his torso, his back warm against your calves.

Your eyes blink open for only a moment before you feel his lips crash into yours, his mouth open immediately as his tongue swipes against you. You part your lips in response as your tongues glide against each other. He pulls out and pushes in again, this time causing him to moan into you.

Finding a steady pace, he continues the circular motion of his hips as he presses his cock in and out, your legs holding him in place against you. The heat of your bodies, bare chest against bare chest, builds between you as you breathe into each others’ mouths through the kiss.

You feel so full, so full of Yuji, so full of love, so full of everything. Each thrust ignites flames inside you, burning hot in the pit of your stomach. The pressure becomes too much to handle.

You pull away from his lips for a moment. “Yuji,” you moan, “I’m close.”

“I know, sweets, me too,” he mutters against your lips.

His movements become sloppy, imprecise, driven purely by physical need. His cock pushes up deeper and deeper inside you and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to sweet release.

It hits you. You throw your head back against the pillows as your vision goes black. Your pussy fluttering around Yuji’s cock sends him over the edge with you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. It’s impossible to distinguish the origin of the moans filling your room as you both soar to ecstasy. Shaking, screaming, you both grip tightly to each other as wave after wave of pleasure hits you.

Finally, your breathing slows and you feel the weight of Yuji’s body pressing against yours, his head buried into the crook of your neck. His hips have stilled but his breathing is still ragged against your skin. Reaching your hand up you gently twirl his hair around your finger, the action making him shiver in your embrace. Both of you lay there for a while, panting, bodies intertwined as the silence of the room wraps around you.

Eventually Yuji lifts his head up, resting his forehead against yours, both slightly damp with sweat, as his eyes meet yours. His sweet, soft brown eyes, so full of love as he gazes down at you: his treasure, his one and only. He tilts his head down, softly placing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” you respond, bringing your other hand up against his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his flushed skin.

This is what it was all for. This, this moment, is perfect.

previous chapter | series masterlist

[thebluehair23]

Imagine :Gil-galad’s wife bravely rescues him, leading to a heartfelt confrontation and reconciliation.

Title: Bound by Love and Bravery

When Gil-galad set out for battle, you felt the familiar knot of fear tightening in your heart. Every part of you urged him to stay, to be cautious, but he was the High King and duty called. Days passed, and reports came back to Lindon—a battle gone wrong, Gil-galad captured, trapped in the heart of enemy lines. Though you pleaded with the council to send a rescue party, they refused, their fear for their own lives outweighing their loyalty.

But you couldn’t accept it. You couldn’t bear the thought of him trapped, suffering, while you stood by, powerless. Even more so now, as you carried his child within you—a secret you had only just discovered. The thought of your child growing up without a father was too much to bear. And so, you made up your mind. Taking only what you needed, you left under cover of night, riding alone through perilous lands, determined to bring him back.

Days later, you reached the enemy camp under the cover of darkness, finding Gil-galad bound and held in a wooden cell, guarded by orcs gathered around their campfire. Your hands trembled, but with careful planning, you managed to set up a trap—stones rigged to fall, fire set to engulf the camp in chaos. When the flames rose, the orcs scattered, caught off guard by the sudden assault. Seizing the moment, you dashed toward Gil-galad’s cell, breaking the locks and pulling him free.

“Are you mad?” he hissed, his face twisted with fury as he took in your appearance. “What were you thinking, risking your life—and the life of our child?”

“We’ll argue later,” you said, tugging him toward the trees as the flames spread behind you.

Once mounted on his horse, you rode through the night, pressing on until you were far from danger. Finally, exhausted and wary, you found refuge in a small, hidden cabin owned by a mysterious figure—an old shifter, who could transform into a wolf but whose heart was kind.

The wolf-man greeted you both with warmth, setting out a simple meal: bread, eggs, and fresh milk. You were ravenous, and the food disappeared almost as soon as it was set in front of you. Gil-galad watched you in silence, his eyes still clouded with anger and worry as you ate, hardly pausing for breath.

Once you finished, he finally spoke, his tone sharp with frustration. “You had no right to risk yourself. You put our child in danger. What would I have done if I had lost you both?”

You met his gaze, unyielding. “And what would I do without you? How could I go on, raising our child alone, knowing I could have saved you?”

He clenched his fists, his anger softening slightly, though he remained tense. “That isn’t a risk I would ever want you to take.”

“And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try,” you replied, your voice shaking with raw emotion. “You are my heart, Gil-galad. I can’t imagine a life without you. I would face any danger if it meant bringing you home.”

The room fell into silence, and your eyes began to sting as you held back tears. Unable to bear the tension, you turned to the wolf-man, asking where you could sleep for the night, hoping to find a place alone to calm your heart. He led you to a single room with one bed, his gaze full of quiet understanding.

Your heart sank. You couldn’t avoid Gil-galad tonight, but as you lay on one side of the bed, facing away, you kept your distance. Moments later, you felt the bed dip as he lay beside you, both of you engulfed in silence and unspoken feelings.

Then, his arm slid around your waist, drawing you gently back toward him. His touch was warm, comforting despite his earlier anger. Slowly, you turned to face him, finding his gaze softer, more vulnerable.

He brushed a hand over your belly, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and sorrow. “It isn’t only you I nearly lost today… I nearly lost him, too.”

You managed a small smile, brushing your fingers over his hand. “Him?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “For all we know, it could be a daughter.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his chest. “Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice softening. “But I know that you both wanted me safe. No matter how angry I am, I can’t deny… I’m grateful you came for me.”

You let out a small laugh, the tension between you melting as you relaxed against him. “I’m not the only one, you know. He wanted his father back, too,” you teased, though you knew it was your love for him that had driven you to such lengths.

Gil-galad’s eyes sparkled with affection as he gently stroked your hair. “Perhaps,” he replied, amusement dancing in his gaze. “But if I know him at all, he’s inherited his courage from you.”

In that quiet moment, you felt the strain of the journey fade away, replaced by a deep and lasting warmth. You lay together in the flickering candlelight, your love strengthened by the trials you had faced, knowing that you would face any danger for one another. And for now, in each other’s arms, you were home.

[gardens-light]

Heyy, I just wanted to say I really love your writing! Your stories are always so good, and I admire how creative you are. I was wondering if you’d ever think about doing something with Dino/Mirage x human spy? I’m obsessed with his design in the Bayverse movies

Hey there, and thank you so much for the lovely compliment! I know I say this alot, but it really does mean alot to hear that people enjoy reading my silly little fics.

I've honestly only know of Mirage in the ROTB movie, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I didn't love that mech's attitude. Anyways, hope you enjoy this piece that was inspired by your prompt, and I do have a few ideas floating around in my drafts for future works of Mirage.

Apologies again for the long wait.

---

High Stakes and High Tension

Content: Autobot Mirage x GN/Human Spy Reader.

Inspired Song: A View To A Kill- Duran Duran

Word Count: 1900

Sunlight streamed through the broken windows of an abandoned hangar on the outskirts of a forgotten airstrip. Inside, the air was thick with dust, along with the scent of oil and rust lingered like ghosts of a time long gone. Optimus stood tall within the center, his frame gleaming faintly in the dim light. His blue optics studying the black SUV's approaching in the distance.

"Prime, I don't see why I need a partner." Mirage complained from the sidelines, casually leaning against a support beam. Occasionally feeling Optimus' side glance, raising an optic ridge at the sleek silver-and-blue Porsche's smooth, almost teasing tone. "I'm perfectly capable of handling a little infiltration on my own. It's my speciality afterall-"

"I do not question you nor your abilities, Mirage. But, this mission requires cooperation from the humans governmental intelligence. I believe their chosen agent has been briefed-"

The sound of your steel-cap boots clicking against the concrete interrupted the air, drawing the attention of the Autobots and fellow soldiers. Mirage's optics slowly wandered over your frame, taking in how the tailored black tactical suit outlined your confident figure. A headset tucked neatly behind your ear, keeping your hair out of your face. As your piercing eyes scanned the room with the precision of someone who left nothing to chance.

"Mirage, this is Agent Y/N. Aka, Agent Cobra." Optimus introduced, acknowledging you with a simple nod and curt smile. "They're one of the U.S government's top spies. They'll be assisting you on this mission."

"So, you're the 'advanced asset' I'm working with?" you clipped with a professional mannerism. Striding towards the silver-and-blue Autobot, with a tilted head and placing hands upon your hips.

"That's me. The only mech who looks good." Mirage pushed himself off the beam, gesturing towards himself with a dramatic flourish, before holding out a relaxed fist. "Nice meeting you, babe. The name's Mirage."

Your brows furrowed slightly, "save the charm. I'm here to get the job done, not to exchange pleasantries."

"Oh you're feisty. I like that." A small smile teased the corners of the blue Autobot's lips. "I like it alot."

"What's the mission?" rolling your eyes, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Optimus projected a hologram from his forearm, displaying a video of a group of individuals from high society, exchanging crates of weaponry with a towering Deception in the background. "For months these humans have been collaborating with the Decepticons. I believe they're providing our enemy with resources for their war effort. Your task is to infiltrate their operation, confirm the extent of their alliance, and eliminate the threat."

"Understood. Let's move out." You spoke with a curt nod.

With a dramatic spin and styled flair, the sound of whirling gears and shifting pistons filled the air, as Mirage transformed into his alt-mode. The Porsche engine growling with a prideful rumble, as he felt your gaze rake over his sleek, silver with cobalt-blue racing stripes. Swinging his passenger door open with a gentleman like gesture towards you.

---

Infiltrating a posh gala where the rich and elite of high society mingled, including the suspected allies of the Decepticons were said to be meeting. Mirage's altmode blended in flawlessly with the other high-end sports cars, which parked outside of the modern mansion. His sensors feeding you information through your comms.

You moved through the crowd with calculated movement, your elegant black attire matching the formal style of the grand ballroom.

"Target spotted." You whispered into the earpiece.

"Which one? 'Mr Tacky Red Tie' talking to the broad dressed in purple?" Mirage teased.

"No." You lowly hissed, scanning the room. "Black suit and tie by the bar... and keep your chatter to a minimum."

The Autobot's laughter crackled softly through your earpiece. "You're at a fancy party, babe. Loosen up."

Rolling your eyes, ignoring his teasing tone while sliding into a seat near your target. The middle-age man didn't notice your presence until you casually ordered a drink, only giving you a slight flirtatious gaze before returning to his own drink.

"Uh, Cobra?" Mirage's serious tone buzzed through your earpiece, snapping you out of a daze that held your attention for the past uneventful moments. "We've got company. Big, stompy, and ugly."

Your eyes flickered towards the mirror behind the bar, catching a glimpse of two brutish mechs that past the far window behind you. One with jagged red plating, while the other had rust covering his gun-metal frame. Their massive frames concealed by Cybertronian cloaking tech, making them nearly invisible to the human eye.

"I see them." Your muttered words remained in your calm tone, while you casually and discreetly followed your target towards the nearest exit.

"Time to bail?" Mirage suggested.

"Not yet. We need confirmation they're handing over Cybertronian tech first-"

"You're gonna get yourself squished!"

But you continued, ignoring Mirage's warning.

Moving towards another spot closer to your location, Mirage's altmode tucked away under an empty driveway, his sensors watching you creep into the garage that was clearly restricted access from the rest of the party.

The dimly lit garage hummed faintly with the energy radiating from the Cybertronian tech scattered around. Kneeling by a crate, your small camera clicked quietly, as you documented the evidence of human-Decepticon collaboration. Each photo capturing damning details: encrypted datapads, energon cubes, and schematics that only a Cybertronian would recognize.

"Cobra," Mirage's voice crackled softly through your comm, his usual playful tone replaced with urgency. "You've got company-two guards heading your way. Twelve meters out and closing fast-"

"Give me thirty more seconds," your words came out in a hushed whisper. Your tone focused, aiming your camera at another crate, snapping pictures as fast you could. "I need to finish this-"

"You don't have thirty seconds, babe. They're gonna be right on top you in about ten. I suggest you-"

"I said almost done-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, barely having time to react before someone grabbed your wrist. Only a small gasp escaped you, as Mirage's human-like holographic form materialized out of nowhere. Pinning your back against the side of his altmode, the space between the wall of the undercover driveway and the Porsche forced the pair of you to be incredibly close.

Opening your mouth, but Mirage raised a finger to your lips. Silencing any protest that dared to murmur from you.

From your perspective, his hologram form looked incredibly lifelike- appearing as tall, well-dressed man who favoured the 90s street fashion. White hair loosely slicked back, while a roguish smirk framed his youthful features. But even through your annoyance, you couldn't help but notice the flicker of faint blue lines that occasionally danced across his 'skin,' a subtle reminder of his true nature.

"Two guards," Mirage whispered, leaning in close enough that you could feel the faint projection of his breath. "They're about to round the corner. Just... follow my lead, and don't overthink this."

Tilting his head and leaning in even closer, lightly pressing his forehead against yours. To an outsider, the position was rather... intimate, almost tender. You stiffened in surprise, your body instinctively tensing as warmth rose to your cheeks.

"What are you doing?" you hissed under your breath, voice barely audible.

"Improvising."

Your eyes widened as his lips softly pressed against yours- not cold, not mechanical but strangely warm and tender. Like the tactile perfection of a hologram designed to flawlessly mimic human touch. You couldn't help but freeze, mind racing as you tried to not lose yourself within the moment.

As the guards rounded the corner, their flashlights swept across the gravel driveway, illuminating the outdoor space. The beams of light stopped abruptly as they landed on upon the pair of you. Feeling the guard's gaze, but Mirage didn't flinch. If anything, he leaned in deeper, one hand cupping to your cheek, as if to sell the act even more.

"Hey!" one guard barked, stepping closer.

From the corner of your eye, seeing Mirage's expression softening, the smirk upon his lips turning into something earnest and... you dare say, endearing.

"Apologies." His smooth, confident charm returned to his tone. Resting his forehead against yours. "We... didn't think anyone else was here. Just... stealing a moment, excuse us."

A scowl flashed across the guard's face, lowering his flashlight slightly. "This is a restricted area. You two shouldn't be here-"

"No problem. We understand." Mirage tilted his head slightly, softly kissing your temple, putting on a sheepish smile. "We just... couldn't resist a little adventure." He glanced down at you, reluctantly playing along, keeping your head turned away from the guards. As if you were embarrassed to be caught.

The second guard lightly chuckled, elbowing his companion. "Leave' em alone, man. Nothing but a couple of lovebirds sneaking off for some... privacy. Let's keep moving."

Hesitating for a moment, the guard's suspicion lingered on the pair of you for a moment longer. Eventually grumbled and turning away, "fine... just don't let the boss catch you"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Mirage called after them, giving you a subtle wink.

Once the guards disappeared back around the corner, their footsteps fading into the distance. Once you were sure they were out of ear shot, you shoved Mirage away, a mixture of irritation and embarrassment across your features.

"What the fuck was that?!"

"Me saving your stubborn, uncooperative ass from getting caught."

"You didn't have to-"

"Didn't I?" Mirage casually interrupted, crossing his arms. "Face it, Agent Cobra, you were this close to blowing the mission. Admit it- I'm good at what I do."

You couldn't help but glare at him, lips pressed into a thin line. "Next time, warn me before you... improvise like that!"

"Sure thing. But admit it, babe- you liked it, didn't you?"

"And stop calling me that!"

Turning your back and not answering, Mirage's holographic form fazed out into nothing as you approached his passenger side. Trying to ignore the lingering warmth upon your lips. But the faint smirk tugging upon your lips, didn't escape the Autobot's attention.

---

Standing under the moonlit sky, adjusting your earpiece after sending the details of mission to your unit and Optimus, of how you and Mirage successfully dismantled the human-Decepticon operation. Confirming that appropriate authorities confiscated, and the conspirators were neutralized.

Your eyes flickering towards Mirage as he rolled out of his altmode, his blue optics looking down at you with soft amusement and curiosity.

"Y'know... for someone who acts like they're all business, you sure know how to have fun. When you decide to let loose."

A small smirk crept upon your lips, melting away your usual sternness, giving way to a rare moment of playfulness. You stepped closer, looking up at him with a glint within your eyes.

"And... for someone who can't take anything seriously and talks too much. You... can be rather charming, just lucky that you're easy on the eyes."

Mirage titled his helm, his optics brightening at your teasing tone. "Did you... just flirt with me, Agent Cobra?"

"Maybe." You spoke with a sly smile. "But don't let it go to your head."

"Wouldn't think of it... Don't be a stranger, babe."

You paused before approaching the black SUV's, glancing back with faint blush dusting your cheeks. "See around, Mirage."

As you climbed into the vehicle and disappeared into the darkness, the blue Autobot chuckled to himself. Feeling his spark hum within in its chamber, making his frame radiant with an unfamiliar warmth.

[idlepollingofcybertron]

Hi! I've been playing with an idea and was wondering how you go about making a transformers continuity?

It sounds like you've got the first part, which is some kind of idea to start from. You can build one however you want to be honest, depending on what you want to focus on or start with. But I'll walk through the process I've used by going through how I made some of mine.

1.) An idea/character focus/question.

For TF: Iconoclast my starting concept Roomie and I built from was him basically asking me:

What if the Quintessons were never overthrown?

For TF: Legendarium it was my own idea of:

What if magic/myths were a main focus of it and Prima was evil?

2.) I asked how that would change things and followed along in a "yes and..." manner. Or picked the main cast and then slowly connected them together. Brainstorm a list of ideas or moments or worldbuilding elements without censoring.

TF: Iconoclast was something that I built in my living room going back and forth with roomie. We popped ideas off of each other back and forth and figured out how it would fit in, by asking questions like: How would society be if the Cybertronians were never free? And going through "Darkest World" kind of scenarios and through characters we liked.

I keep a brainstorming document jotting down ideas, all of them, to start from later.

TF: Legendarium I didn't focus on the larger world so much as go back and forth between building the mythical groundwork for the universe by writing fairy tales and myths and focus on individual characters and how they exist. By building them I built the world.

Again started brainstorming ideas and just jotting anything down pretty freely.

3.) Start fine tuning ideas or making them firmer.

I firm them up to be a central idea/plot theme.

TF: Iconoclast was that the Transformers are rebelling against the Quintessons and freeing themselves.

TF: Legendarium was much more scattered and eventually focused on the themes of nature v. nature, choosing to be a compassionate person, free will, and identity. Every narrative part draws back to this.

4.) Build Characters OR Worldbuilding

Sometimes building the characters comes before the themes or you work on them at the same time. Developing the characters and how you want to handle them can help you figure out the themes you want to focus on.

As a recommendation you don’t have to do every character, just choose the ones that you like and want to talk about.   

Worldbuilding is one of the funner elements for me, so it was funner. I do recommend building your world thoroughly. Quick tips are building historical events that still affect things and the three layer rule. 

TF: Iconoclast for example the ancient past is the Quintessons taking over Cybertron during Rung’s time/Quintessa taking over, the modern past is Galvatron’s Rebellion, and the recent one is the Lithone People bringing the Quintessons to court for breaking laws protecting sapient life and starting the case for Transformers to be recognized as an independent species.

TF: Legendarium as an example: the ancient past is war of the thirteen, the modern past was Sentinel’s overthrowing of his father, and the recent past was Pickup’s Rebellion.

Start with three: one that happened in the distant past that changed society, one that happened in the modern times (think grandparents/parents time generation wise), and one that happened recently.

If you want to add an element to worldbuilding give it three layers. You set the world up so whatever you establish is the rules just maintain them throughout. Start with the main element then add one deeper reason behind it and then one more so it is built in.

Other Recommendations

It can also be helpful to talk to people to bounce ideas off of. 

For TF:Legendarium, I had a few Tumblr users who would ask about specific characters they really liked or scenarios that helped me develop them. 

For TF: Iconoclast, I and Roomie were building it together and would talk about it and I would bounce ideas off him.

Don’t be afraid to complete change things or do something new with characters. Throw your wild ideas out and have fun.

I’ve made Ratchet female in one story and married to Pharma. I’ve made Tarn a small toy model who is JazzProwl’s “child”. I’ve made Mirage the First Conjunx of Cybertron married to Sentinel Prime and the parent of Knock Out. I made the Alpha Trion evil and manipulating civilization to start a holy war.

Now, please tell me about your idea.

[r0b0s-robos]

IT'S HEERE!!! Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's been waiting and supporting the Harpy!AU. The first chapter is here! That said, I write my fics chapter at a time, so please be patient while I work on the next chapter and my other fics!

Summary: (Harpy!DCA AU x Reader) As your village's trader, you often travel to and from the inner city for various community members. On your way back one day, you go off course because you see something you don't quite believe— a supposedly abandoned harpy nest. You find out quite quickly that everything is not as it seems. Your once easy life is thrown into chaos as magic, soul bonds, and the consequences of actions, not your own begin to catch up to you. ———— ☼☽⋆｡°✧ ☼ ✧⋆°｡☾☼ ———— From Chapter One: At once, the harpy’s head turned toward your direction. It had a barn owl-like face with the eyebrow tufts of a screech owl. Its eyes blared red in the darkness, illuminating the rest of its face. Its body slowly turned to match the direction it was facing. Wide eyes met your figure, feathers puffed to look bigger— as if it needed to do so. The way the light hit its feathers made the harpy look a vibrant shade of royal blue. Flecks of yellow dappled the underside of its wings, like stars reflecting off water’s surface. You would have loved to draw a picture of how its red eyes landed on you.

[mantisgodsart]

[...isolation of the transformation appears to worsen the standard disorientation of a new body. I believe that the familiarity of the upper body may be offsetting the psychological impact of the lower body - as not everything has changed, the subject still "expects", on some level, that their body will work similarly, despite radical changes to organ systems and locomotion and the near-total overhaul of the centre of gravity.]

[The subject appears to be leaning on hexapodal motion as a type of "crutch", despite the size of the lower body making most of these sorts of motions awkward at best - the tournament venue doesn't currently have many internal spaces sufficient to test this one's mobility, but outdoors venues seem more promising for testing, anyways. This confirms something that I've previously suspected, as well - subjects find it more difficult to adjust to addition of new limbs than they do subtraction of limbs.]

[Subject appears to exhibit difficulty with coordination in the lower limbs, and has adopted an extremely "cautious" form of motion, taking steps with one limb at a time. The difference between upper and lower limbs means that this mode of movement is extremely... clumsy, to say the least. I intend to keep them under observation for a few more days before release and see if this resolves within the initial settling period or not. After that, just some periodic check-ins should be...]

Hello, and welcome to: watercolor paintings for Round 2 of @bug-oc transmutations! Mirach by @ghost-of-hallownest. Some extra details under cut because this is a long post and we don't want to make it longer.

This one is based pretty heavily on Dragon!Falin from Dungeon Meshi, but we're bringing through some lizard-y aspects from last year, and very much having fun with the tabby-cat patterns on the back - though technically speaking, Mirach's blue is limited to her wings, adding some markings to the body helps us break up that big plane of sandy yellows and add some interest to the design. We think it turned out well!

If we could fit it in, we'd add a third bit of Marigold notes related to the actual transmutation method, since it's been living in our brain for a while, and we think our Potion Drawing might be a bit... abstract, otherwise?

More or less, the weave - the active transmutation medium - is woven to the inside of the lasso's... lasso, and upon encircling something with it, the weave is transferred to the target, thus making the lasso fall apart entirely as a major component of its structure abruptly ceases to be part of the object.

This transfer-and-break is the same general method through which most of Marigold's "one-use" charms work - as the effect is now tied to the target's body, rather than an object, it simply remains in effect until the weave "wears in" to the body entirely, shifting it from an effect active on the subject to a part of the subject's body.

This means that, before the effect is fully integrated into the body, it can be broken, though as with all charmcraft some effects may still linger. This also makes it so, technically, the charmcraft only casts an effect on the caster - the same effect through which pretty much all Medals work - rather than being a direct interface a la wiring it directly into the bug's body, which is illegal and what Marigold spends a lot of time tiptoing around to produce major effects on a bug's body without the single most useful method for bodily alteration Charmcraft has to offer.

...that was longer than we really expected it to be. We are working on the other contestants, both of this round and the last, though it's going very slowly seeing as the afternoon sun is currently hot enough to melt our brain into a fine sludge. We've got a solid idea of all three other Round 2 designs, and we've finally got a sketch for Mal - though Pola is being delayed, still, due to our poor comics-making decisions. We're working on it! Slowly!

If we could figure out how in the hell to represent it visually, we'd be working on making a loser's bracket, too, but as is... listen, we're not a graphics designer for a reason. If you are a graphics designer and we can outsource designing a loser's bracket to you then please contact us. We have a budget of approximately ten dollars. We can do PayPal but if your payment processor of choice is US-exclusive we cannot help you.

[mirroringdust]

For @hellghoulweek

"Who's that?" she asked her maid, who was sitting next to her on the wooden stand that overlooked the tournament grounds.

"Oh, that..." her maid paused for a moment, almost hesitant, and looked up at her. "That's the Black Knight."

"The black night?" Lady Galadriel turned her head towards her, as if she could hear better that way, "I can see that he wears black armour, but who is he... where is he from, where are his lands?"

"My lady," Mirdania said, stuttering, "that's all I know... I think that's all anyone knows. He's just the Black Knight."

"Is he?" Galadriel raised her eyebrows and turned her head back to the tournament. She would have to ask the king later how he could allow someone who did not reveal his true identity to take part in such a joyous occasion. It was her birthday, after all. But before she could think about it, or even anticipate it, her eyes remained on him for a while longer. The armour made it almost impossible to recognise any of his features, but his demeanour was enough to make the people around him cheer whenever he mounted his horse, and his habit of always winning did the rest to give him a lasting impression. Galadriel felt a slight smile escape her lips, for she did understand it, in a way. His stature seemed to tower over the others by just a little, but enough to make him stand out, and his dark armour made him seem even more striking.

For a moment she thought he was looking at her. She quickly looked away but immediately returned her gaze towards him as soon as he left the tournament place. She followed every step of his tall, sheltered figure flashed between the colourful tents, clinging to the sight, unable to look away from the shadows until they grew longer, for the sun slowly began to set. It was like a blemish on an otherwise unspoiled, solemn scene. A disturbance, yes, but also a pull, like a dark cave drawing her in. What was it that kept her eyes to his movements? There was a mystery that dared to be discovered, something like a secret hidden underneath the all embracing mask.

Yet after the tournament, she occupied herself with other things for a while, and when she sat next to Gil-galad in the great hall to greet the winners, she did not ask him who he was.

The great hall was the most festive room in the entire castle of Lindon, and it was now being used to celebrate her birthday, to welcome their guest, to honour the beloved daughter the King never had and who was most dear to him. Galadriel smiled all day, not necessarily because she was happy, but because she knew the occasion demanded it. She did enjoy the celebration, of course, but after a while it became repetitive and tiring.

The procedure was always the same. One of the knights who had taken part in the tournament stepped forward, bowed to the king, knelt to pay his respects and pledge his allegiance, before turning to her, still on his knees. She sat on a slightly smaller throne to the king's left, wearing a gleaming white dress and a shimmering coronet on her brow. Most of the time, the knights bowed their heads before looking up at her in awe, extolling her beauty, perhaps praising the glow of her golden hair, the fact that her grace was sung of by troubadours, and then, of course, congratulating her and giving her a gift. It was usually the same. Jewellery, dresses, those kinds of blinding things.

(continue on AO3)

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 3 | Pins & Needles

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: Anyone in the mood for some ascended Astarion smut? Cool cause this is that. Posting this a day early cause I want to…yw <3

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @aristenfromwarsaw

Tav stood still as Astarion draped the silk cloth over her body, his hands skillfully taking measurements with precision. The tape hanging from his neck swayed gently as he worked, his focus never broke his hands as he sewed the dress together.

"Aagh -" A sudden prick from the needle stabbed her skin, causing a sharp breath to escape her lips.

“Stay still,” Astarion demanded with a slight tug. “The party is tomorrow night, and I need to finish this dress for you.”

Tav obliged, standing motionless before the large mirror.

Well maybe if he'd be more careful I wouldn't have to move.

Tav watched in silence as Astarion created a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, creating a sexy silhouette around her figure. Tav stared into the mirror, even though she couldn’t see her reflection. Instead, she could only see the shape of the dress as it took form on her body.

I wonder how this color compliments my skin, hair, and eyes. I can't tell. Only Astarion is my mirror. He always tells me how beautiful I am.

While Astarion continued to sew, Tav’s thoughts drifted to a place of her life before a spawn, and remembering her time if her childhood in the woods; trying to teach herself how to hunt under the sun. Tav's emotions hid coldly beneath a mask of stoicism.

Astarion was on a knee, threading the last bit of the dress's slit. He suddenly leaned in closer to Tav’s exposed thigh.

His lips pressed against her soft flesh, sending a tingle up Tav’s spine. The sensation was both electrifying and unsettling as Astarion’s kisses grew rougher, his fingers gripping her thigh tightly.

Astarion’s actions became more aggressive. His cold, seductive eyes bore into hers as he sank his teeth into her thigh, drawing blood that trickled down her skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelmed Tav, causing her legs to tremble beneath her.

After savoring the taste of her blood, Astarion stood up and admired the dress he had just finished, "Ah, a masterpiece. It looks even better on you than I imagined.”

His demeanor shifted and his eyes trailed over the silk hugging her hips. He took a step closer and hovered over her with lustful eyes, "Take it off."

Tav’s smile faded as she brushed down the fabric on her hips, "What?"

Commandingly, "Take. It. Off."

Despite feeling a mix of emotions - fear, arousal, and confusion - Tav hesitated for a moment before complying.

Tav slowly undressed, letting the dress fall to the floor around her ankles, and taking a step out of the dress. She felt exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.

“You are truly exquisite, my consort,” Astarion murmured, his voice low and husky. Tav’s cheeks flushed at his words, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his gaze linger on her breasts.

Her legs trembled and she could feel her core growing excited. The heat pooling between them was almost unbearable. Astarion sensed this, took a step closer, and grasped Tav's face firmly in his palm. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his crimson eyes.

“Kneel,” Astarion commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Tav’s heart pounded in her chest as she sank to her knees before him, her eyes wide and pleading. She looked up at him with confusion and longing, her lips slightly parted in anticipation.

“I want to see how well that mouth works when it isn't testing me,” Astarion whispered, this was about her teasing him earlier.

He marveled at this. Tav, on her knees naked. Just for his pleasure.

In her eyes, Astarion grew into this dominate person. Sure it was exciting but it also shook something inside her, like she was almost scared of his consequences.

Tav was at his mercy.

"Look up, and don't dare take your eyes off me." Astarion reached out for her face again and squeezed her cheeks, "Do you understand?"

Tav nodded her head with a soft, "Yes."

Again, his hand clutches her face in a tight squeeze,“Yes what?”

Tav spoke through the force of his hands pressing her cheeks together, “Yes master.”

Astarion clicked his tongue in admiration, and let go of her with a slight push. He slowly started to unravel his buckle, letting his trousers melt to the floor with his undergarments.

Tav could see his fingers unraveling himself from her peripheral, not daring to break her eye contact with him. And neither did he.

Astarion's erection popped up with the drop of his pants and he positioned himself close enough to push his head against Tav's lips, "Be a good pup." he purred.

She gapped her mouth enough to fit his tip on the base of her tongue. Tav wetted his slit before his hips greedily forced its way into her mouth. Astarion pump in and out a couple of times to prep her throat.

"That's it." His hips jerked against Tav's filled mouth, "Get it wet."

Tav looked up at Astarion, pleadingly as the heat between her legs tickled her inner thighs. Her tongue and lips wetted any skin she could wrap itself around.

Astarion then kneaded his fingers threw her thick locs, tightly grasping them before slamming his hips against her face. Tav toppled back slightly from the sudden force, but he quickly tugged her by the hair back into position. On her knees like a good girl.

The tip of his cock battered the back on her throat and her eyes quickly glossed over with tears as she struggled to keep eye contact with him.

"Don't -" Astarion groaned against the tightness of her throat, "Fuck - Don't you dare look away." He threatened Tav hoarsely between moans.

Tav grabbed onto his legs for support while continuously bobbing her head against his length. Her throat squeezed and gagged on his cock with each rough thrust.

It was unbearable. Tav could barely breathe and she struggled to moan with her mouth full of Astarion's length. The vibrations from her struggling hums only made him throw his back with ecstasy.

Tav tried to pull away, and for a moment she tugged back with a gasp escaping her lips.

"Oh, no you don't," Astarion put some distance between his legs, squatting slightly before both hands held onto Tav's head, "I'm going to fuck this mouth until I cum."

Tav's moans muffled as she nodded to his testament. The tears in her eyes began to stream down her face from his force. The preassure in her throat started to tighten around his cock, rewarding her with Astarion's sweet moans.

"That's it, fuck, that's a good girl."

His moans were something that stayed the same, even after ascending. And it was one of Tav's favorite things about him.

A whimper left Astarions lips, never breaking his half-lidded intense gaze from Tav. Every thought and action centered around fucking and possessing his dearest treasure.

Astarion felt himself getting closer to his climax, tightening his grip on Tav’s hair, pulling her closer and deeper into him. And with one last final thrust, he let out a low moan, filling Tav's mouth and throat with his white slick.

He could feel Tav hum against his skin, and when he pulled his cock out of her mouth, she stumbled down on her palms; coughing and gasping. Her head sunk low between her shoulders, desperately trying to catch her breath.

"Look at me." Astarion asserted between heavy breaths.

With watery eyes and reddened cheeks, Tav lifted her head as her chest heavily rose and fell. Her arms quivered and trembled from the intense moment.

Astarion was awed at the mess she made. He loved seeing the way her black makeup stained her cheeks, "Good pup. Now open your mouth - I want to see it."

Tav parted her lips, and the cum trickled down her bottom lip, down her jaw, and then to her neck. She stuck out her tongue to further push out his seed.

Astarion looked down at Tav with a mixture of gratitude and possession. She belonged to him.

He hummed in approval and swiped his thumb against her cummed bottom lip softly, "What a fucking mess you made..." He leaned over and hovered over her lips with a teasing whisper, "You're so beautiful when you choke on my cum."

Tav hung her head back down and tried to catch her breath. She felt defeated, horny, and unashamed as she replayed the look of pleasure of Astarions face in her head.

But it seemed she wasn't going to get anything in return, only the sweet memories of his climax. And this was Astarion's punishment to Tav, no attention to the begging heat between her legs.

Tav needed a moment to gather herself, there was no way she’d be able to stand right now with her shaky legs.

Astarion pulled his pants up and buckled himself back to normal. He stared down at the ruin he caused with a smug look on his face.

“You are just perfect.”

Next part here

See you next week for some party drama. Let me know if you’d like to be on a tag list, I’ll try my best to keep up :]

What’d you think about this chapter?

[yomica12345]

Patton hopped over to the bench with a series of light, deliberate hops, his small frame exuding a curious energy. He lifted his head, tilting it slightly, to watch the dark prince with an almost hopeful air. The prince sat there with his lanky legs pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. His dark, sunken eyes were fixed on the weathered well across from him, a reflection of the quiet melancholy that seemed to weigh him down. The prince’s shoulders were hunched and stiff, resembling the overgrown archway that framed his figure, casting long shadows in the waning light.

Patton croaked softly to draw the prince’s attention. He had been watching Prince Virgil for a few months now. Every night he came to reflect, always with the same sad expression, and every night Patton would announce his presence, and that expression would brighten if only just slightly. This time, however, the sorrow in the pools of his eyes remained, heavy and unyielding, as if the weight of unspoken fears and mounting expectations anchored his gaze to the little frog.

Virgil leaned forward, lowering a hand for Patton. He waited for Patton to be securely on it before lifting it up to his knees, resting the frog there. “Hey,” he murmured, watching Patton quietly.

“They found me a suitress.” Virgil spoke up as he lifted his gaze back to the well. “She’s very nice, but… I know I could never love her and she deserves better anyway.”

Patton tilted his head, adjusting his position on Virgil’s knees so he could better meet his eyes with his own wide froggy ones.

Virgil shook his head, picking up Patton and bringing him over to the well, setting him on the ledge. “This is just-” He huffed, brushing his hair out of his face frustratedly. “I can’t do this! I can’t be what my parents expect me to be. I’ll never be what they want me to be. Do what they want me to do. I’ll never be the son they always wanted me to be. “I wish…” He returned his eyes to Patton, his eyebrows pinching together. “I wish I had a guy as understanding as you, one who’s always there to listen. I wish my parents would accept him and me for liking him. I wish I could just be everything I want to be and everyone else would be okay with that.” He swiped aggressively at his cheeks as tears fell from them. “I can’t take all this pressure. I’ll never be as far along as other princes are. I’ll never catch up. I’ll never be like them. I’m a failure. I’m-”

Patton rested a webbed foot over Virgil’s cheek.

Virgil released a shaky breath, leaning in closer. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.” He leaned the rest of the way in, placing the softest of kisses on Patton’s lips. 

The transformation was almost immediate. Patton could feel his body shift and expand into something bigger, taller. A smooth fabric rested against his body, protecting him from the coolness of the night’s breeze. He lowered his eyes to see the light blue dress that now covered him, blinking as he lifted a hand from the ledge of the well, eyes widening as he lost his balance.

“Careful!” Virgil caught Patton, pulling him toward himself as he stumbled back. He exhaled when he was sure they were steady, his face flushed as Patton’s warm breath tickled his nose.

Patton giggled. “Well, that was quite the kiss, huh?”

Virgil quickly set Patton down, scrambling over the bench and tumbling to the other side. He peeked over the top, jabbing a finger at Patton. “What just happened? Who are you?”

Patton grinned, holding the sides of his dress and curtsying, a bit unsteady on his feet. “Prince Patton Gâteau, of the kingdom of Brightstead.” He moved slowly, kneeling on the bench to look down at Virgil. “But I’m still the frog you’ve been talking to every night.”

“So you…” Virgil’s eyes widened, getting up and backing towards the castle. “I’ve been talking to an actual person his whole time?”

Patton hurried around the bench, taking Virgil’s hand. “Please don’t go! I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you, but I thought you could use a friend and I kinda needed one too.”

Virgil grasped at his hair, cursing himself with a grimace. “I must’ve sounded like such a whiny brat. I mean, I have everything I need, and I’ve just been complaining to you about the things I wish I had this whole time.”

“Virge, you’re not a brat.” Patton cupped Virgil’s face in one of his hands, offering a soft, warm smile. “You’re a prince under a lot of pressure. It’s going to be okay though.”

Virgil’s eyes welled up, his throat tight. “How? How does this change anything?”

“Because now you have support. I’ll be here for you, I promise.” Patton wiped a tear from Virgil’s cheek. “In whatever way you need me to be, Virgil.”

Virgil’s eyes followed Patton’s hands as they moved to wrap around him. He lowered his head to Patton’s shoulder, his body trembling as he clutched Patton tightly.

Patton closed his eyes, raising a hand to Virgil’s head, fingers threading through his hair. “I’ve got you.” He whispered, knowing in that moment he truly did.

[bananaactivity]

Scene Draw + Excerpt

Kai didn’t even flinch as Marcus continued to stare, as though he knew what was going on inside Marcus’ head. He simply let him look, neither enjoying nor rejecting it, just... observing, in his typical cool and collected way. Marcus couldn’t quite figure out if he was making Kai uncomfortable or if Kai was just playing with him, letting him stew in the silence.

Finally, Kai broke the stillness, his voice cutting through the air like smooth silk. “You gonna say something, or are you gonna keep staring?” The words were dry, matter-of-fact, almost as if he was bored by Marcus’ lack of response.

Before he could find his voice, Kai smoothly glided over to his record player, pulling it out of its corner with practiced ease. He sifted through the stack of vinyl records, his fingers pausing, as though considering each one carefully before selecting a particular record. He looked up at Marcus, holding the album up in a way that didn’t quite demand attention but certainly got it.

“You look like a Radiohead... In Rainbows?” Kai asked, his tone nonchalant, but there was a slight edge of amusement in his voice.

Marcus blinked, completely caught off guard. He hadn't remembered sharing his taste in music with Kai, and yet, there he was, reading him like an open book. Marcus’ heart skipped a beat as he tried to gather his thoughts. He nodded slowly, still stunned that Kai had pegged him so easily. “Yeah... yeah, that’s right,” Marcus stammered, then tried to regain some composure, muttering, “In Rainbows is... yeah. It’s a good album. I- It's my favorite album” Marcus remembered the times spent in his dads old evil lair. Those few moments he used to crave back then; when he would spend time with Marcus outside of planning his stupid plots. “Coke Baby” vibrating in the background. They'd sit with their guitars and his dad would pretentiously claim that he'd known Radiohead before the Creepers; strumming on his out of tune on his guitar. Marcus didn't care one way or the other, their music was just as good no matter how popular it was. And when he was alone he’d play “Creep“ right along with “ 15 Step” and his personal favorite “Reckoner”. When he first infiltrated the Davenports he'd gotten them into it as well. Chase rattled off every fact possible about Thom Yorke like he had lived in his walls and Leo continued a long stream of jokes at Marcus expense about the hell of Radiohead fans' pretentiousness and distinct lack of bitches. Adam ate the walls. Their Dad ,Davenport, sat and watched them quietly whenever they played those tunes. Usually he tuned them out but he always came around if he caught wind of the band, and once had requested a playing of “Coke Baby” before excusing himself swiftly. Bree ignored them all when they played preferring One Direction over everything. Marcus' hard drive had stored all these memories in a file marked Music. It was his most precious file and it was like this guy had sifted through it and found just the right thing.

Kai’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, a dry purr escaping him as he lowered the record to the turntable. “Someone has good taste,” he murmured, as though it was an observation he’d made a thousand times before. It was an offhand comment, but it felt loaded especially with all the thoughts Marcus was now spinning.

LMAOO technically the first eleven chapters of my fic have been posted but it’s basically the quality of a first draft. (One person was really into tho lmao) I’m still working on the final 12 chapters while also reworking the ones I already have posted. I even have a sequel in the works and I STILL haven’t finished the original work. Lmao this ship is like the only ship that Ive ever been this invested in my whole life. If your interested in reading the first draft of the eleven available chapters it’s right here: