#new ideas will be added every now and then

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Giggles

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI because making out and Kells getting a lil' hot and bothered...maybe a lot hot and bothered

Summary: You have your first ever kiss with Clayton and you can't stop giggling, it's fucking adorable.

Notes: The first time I ever kissed a guy (at 24) I kept giggling (did that every time he kissed me for at least a month) and I think Kells would find it fucking endearing. So that's the inspo for this.

I'm a sucker for late bloomer/inexperienced reader shit cause that be me so have this little brain rot.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You have no idea what the fuck you are doing. It's so stupid that you've made it this far in life, your 20s, without so much as a kiss and now you're sat in Clayton Keller's car and he's looking at you like that and you're certain he's going to kiss you and you have no idea what you are doing or what you're supposed to do.

It's late, near midnight but neither of you had wanted the date to end and Clayton had suggested you go to a lookout point, sit in his car and talk for as long as you wanted. All on your terms he said, when you wanted to leave he'd take you straight back home. He's been nothing but a gentleman, it makes sitting there with him like that, alone, feel safe, comfortable.

Turns out the lookout point had a great view of the city and the stars. Turns out sitting in a car talking to Clayton Keller makes you never want to go home. There's something about the atmosphere inside the car that has you melting under his attention; the way the interior of the car is lit solely by a few internal lights that give off a cool blue light, how Clayton had put the heating on the moment he saw you shivering, heated seats turned on for added measure, his hand reaching out to rub warmth into your leg until the car warmed itself, how he moved both your seats until your headrests were inline, the fact the music was playing, but so low that it removed the awkwardness of silence while still allowing you two to be in your own bubble.

You were both facing each other in your seats, you leaning your cheek into the leather of the seat, watching him from underneath your eyelashes as he finished telling you about a story from practice. Something about the new pup Archie being brought out onto the ice and scrambling about, all four legs splaying wide as he struggled to grip the ice properly.

He's beautiful, you knew this when he first asked you to go out, but it's even more clear like this when he's smiling wide, teeth on show, dimples deepening as he laughs at the memory. You can't help the way you look at him and he can't help that he notices.

You're so fucking pretty, the way you lean your cheek against his car seat, how you tuck your legs underneath you like you're both sat in his house, on his couch. You wore the prettiest dress to the date and he's been almost incapable of ungluing his eyes from you all night, and now is no exception. In the dim lights of his car you look so fucking soft, sweet, looking up at him from underneath your lashes like he's the most interesting thing in the world.

You blink slow at him as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, but a silence that's no less filled with tension. You can feel it, the buzz in the air that would normally be your cue to say something that ruins it, something that cuts the tension. The buzz in the air that has you swallowing nervously because his blue eyes keep dipping down to your lips, tracing them like he doesn't want to forget what they look like, like he wants a taste of you.

You try not to jump when he moves slowly, coming to lean into your space, his arm resting over the back of your seat until he's so close you can count the few freckles on his skin, and smell the expensive cologne he's wearing. Your eyes aren't sure where to look; his eyes, his lips, the way his Adam's apples bobs in his throat, that chain of his that peeks out from beneath his dress shirt.

Clay's eyes dart from your own to your lips and back again, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, a motion you instinctively copy. The air feels thick, heavy and there's a roiling buzz in your gut, a giddy sensation so strong you're not sure what to do with it, not sure how to relieve it or cope with it.

"Can I kiss you?"

You can't help it, the giggle slips out without your permission, a hand coming up to cover your lips as look at him all wide eyed and sweet. It's fucking adorable and he can't help the way he smirks at you, eyes becoming more heavily lidded because fuck he wants to kiss you and swallow that giggle in his mouth.

"Can I kiss you? Please, baby?" He asks again, watching the warmth flood your cheeks, the way your eyelashes flutter against the apples of them like the wings of a dove and you lower your hand, lip bitten between your teeth. You're the picture of innocent seduction and it floors him further because you have no idea what you're doing to him.

"...Yes..." Your voice is so so quiet, shy like speaking too loudly might ruin it, might break this moment.

Clayton's free hand reaches out for your cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin with a reverence that is better suited for worship in a church than the interior of a car at 11:45pm on a Friday night. The nerves grow in your stomach as his fingers trail down, thumb pulling your lip free from between your teeth.

You have to swallow another giggle of nerves as his hand reaches your throat, lightly holding your neck, thumb brushing underneath your jaw in a soothing back and forth that has your eyelids fluttering. He's slow as he leans in, gives you time to pull away at any second, but you don't. For once in your life you stay put in this moment, in this feeling.

His lips are warm against yours, softer than you expected from a hockey player. Bottom lip plush as he captures your own between his lips, you have no idea what you're doing, but you trust your gut, follow his lead, moving your lips against his in a rhythm that you think is passable. Your hand coming up to tangle in the strands of hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulls back, he leaves little distance between you, just enough to breathe, your noses brushing. It's the overwhelming giddy feeling that surges in your stomach, in your blood that has you giggling again, face pressing into his neck to hide it, giggling like a little girl at your first kiss.

"Did you just laugh?" He's not mad, no, he can't be. Not at the cute little giggle that keeps escaping as your feet curl under you, like his kiss has given you a burst of undiluted energy. You're hiding your face into his neck, smile growing against his skin and it makes Clay's own begin, corners starting to turn up, teeth starting to peek out. His hand on your throat flexes, not constricting, just a reminder it's there, that he moved with you, his ring cool against your skin.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what I'm doing..." His smiles grow wider, pressing his face into your hair, nose nuzzling just besides your ear like this isn't the first time you've kissed, like you do this all the time.

"Have you never kissed someone before, baby?" He expects you to say you have, that it's just been a while but you don't, pulling back to look at him, eyes wide and lip back between your teeth like it's found a home there.

"I'm sorry...I...no..." and shit, if he doesn't want to puff up a little at that, that he's the first guy that ever got to kiss you, that's ever got to taste you. That he's the first guy you decided was good enough to get this close to you. That he gets to show you how a kiss should be, how you should be treated...fuck...

"Hey, don't be sorry, just tell me...the giggles are good right?" He smirks at you even as he reassures you because he doesn't want you shying away from him, doesn't want you thinking he has a single problem with how inexperienced you are, cause fuck he wants to show you everything.

You nod shyly, a confirmation that your giggle fits are nothing if not positive, an expression of all the unusual feelings, the giddy rush that fills your body every time he touches you.

"C'mere then, sweet girl," You follow his lead when he grips your hips, leading you to move across the centre console until you're straddling his lap, knees pressing into the warm leather on either side of his thighs, arms over his shoulders, stomach buzzing with nerves as you look down at him.

Clay's hand tugs the skirt of your dress down for you, eyes staying on yours, not daring to peak, covering you properly like a gentleman before you settle comfortably on his lap. His hands smooth over your thighs. His hands so large they're twice the size of yours.

"'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" It's whispered almost on your lips, his hand trailing up slowly, oh so slowly from your thigh, over your hip and ribs, almost ticklish in its course of travel, until it comes to rest back around your throat like it belongs there. Flexing just slightly so you can feel how his whole hand covers your throat, like it was made for the space. The way his ring touches your skin, cool metal against the hammering pulse at your neck, how his fingers have you, firm, but gentle in their grasp, how his bracelets tickle the hollow of your throat.

He can feel your giggle against his palm, the way your throat contracts and relaxes under his hand as you unleash it again, like you can't stop it. The most perfect fucking sound he's ever heard. The giggle you let out doesn't stop him this time, nor the way your eyelashes flutter nervously. He gets it now. You're nervous, you're giddy, your body full of those unknown feelings, things you're not used to, things he's making you feel for the first time.

Clayton's breath is warm across your lips as he hovers just over them for a second before slating his mouth back against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, pulling slightly, tugging until you open up all hesitant and sweet because you had no idea what you're doing even as you giggle and sigh into his mouth, into the taste of the tiramisu he had for dessert.

You gasp at the feeling of his tongue against yours, the way he delves into you hungry, desirous but slow, not rushing as his free hand tangles in your hair, just tugging slightly at the roots. Enough that it sends a warmth through you, every inch of you tingling with a want you've never felt directed at someone before.

One hand of yours curls into his hair, freshly done nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has him groaning low in his throat, the feeling made better by the fact you don't even realise how good you are. Your other hand curling over his shoulder, nails biting into the back of his dress shirt, he wants you to leave a mark, a reminder of this moment, that he's the first man to make you feel like this. That he's the first man to have you falling apart, trembling in his lap like a simple kiss is too much.

The way he kisses you leaves you breathless, head dizzy, teeth clanking together, tongue licking into your mouth like you're the best thing he's ever tasted and you might just be. The hand at your throat tightens, not enough to constrict anything, but just enough to make your head buzz a little, to make you whimper into his mouth like this is all too much, this, something people do everyday, is too much.

You're scrabbling to find purchase on him, holding him close, tight like he's an anchor in rough storm. Every tug of his hair, every dig of your nails into his shoulder, sends tingles down his spine and he has to remind himself this is new for you. This is enough for tonight. Reminds himself not scare you off, no matter how badly he wants to flatten the car seats and climb over top of you, no matter how badly he's straining against his dress pants or how badly he wants to taste you right now. This enough.

When he releases your lips you gasp in a breath like you've been underwater, giggle quickly taking over, loud and bright and so fucking lovely. Uncontrollable as you giggle into his shoulder and he loves it, he loves the warmth of your cheeks, the brightness of your giddy smile, the way you burrow against him in your joy.

He hopes you never lose it. Hopes you giggle every single time he kisses you until the day he dies because there is nothing more beautiful than the naked, raw expression of how he makes you feel. The girlish delight at a man, a guy, you like kissing you for the first time, for the second time, maybe forever?

"Fuck, you're so beautiful..." The way he looks down at you as you're giggling on his shoulder makes you stop, breath non-existent because god, how can he look at you like that with eyes like that an not expect you to fall in love. "So pretty..."

He can't help it, dipping back down to capture your lips because fuck you're gorgeous and pliable and warm. You taste like the cocktail you drank at dinner, a little bit fruity and a little bit alcoholic.

It takes everything in Clayton to pull away. Everything in him to let your lips go, to not drag you to the backseat and spread your thighs for him, but he knows that's too much too soon, knows you need easing in if a kiss makes you have a giggle fit.

His nose nuzzles against yours, smirk firmly in place because you're already trying to hold back another giggle and he just can't help how proud it makes him, to know he's brought you to that, made you a giddy mess in his lap.

"Should probably get you home, 's getting late, baby..."

You want to whine, want to complain, ask to stay here all night but you can feel how hard he is underneath your ass and you know...you know this is his way of being a gentleman, his way of going slow. You know if you ask to stay it'll go further than you're ready for, so you nod instead and let him guide you back to your seat.

You let him fix the skirt of your dress again, like a good boy, covering you up. You let him buckle your seatbelt and don't comment when his fingers linger over your cleavage or pinch your hip lightly.

The whole ride back to your house his hand is on your thigh, maybe a little higher than normal, maybe slipping just slightly under the hem of your dress, pressing circles into your inner thigh in a way that makes your blood heat, makes your cunt tingle because fuck...

You consider it. Consider asking him to come inside, but you can't. Not yet. Still you let him walk you to your front door, let him help you up your steps as if you aren't perfectly capable and when you turn to face him under your porch light, ring doorbell camera capturing the moment, you don't resist when he pushes you lightly into the side of your house. You don't protest when his hands barricade either side of your head, leaning over you until you're in your own little cocoon called Clayton Keller.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Fuck, you've never had a guy want to see you so soon, but then you've never had a guy like Clayton Keller. Tonight's full of firsts.

"Yes, please."

It's the sweet little please that you tack on the end that has him groaning, head falling forward, forehead pressing against your own because you're so fucking sweet that he wants to absolutely ruin you.

The lips slant against yours this time in a bruising fashion, desperate, hungry, still he's careful, a hand cushioning your head as it bumps back against the side of your house, a hand at your throat tilting your head back like it'll help him devour you further.

The way he rips his lips from yours to breathe is almost feral, panting over you like he might eat you alive and you consider it, consider letting him, consider unlocking your front door and dragging him in by the hand, consider how it might be to tug at his hair while he kisses down your neck...but you don't.

"Fuck, sweet girl, you're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?"

You can only giggle again, face pressed back into his chest like you might be able to hide from him there and like that he's a goner. He's pretty sure you've dug his heart out from his chest and popped it into your pocket.

His hands, so fucking large one of them could cover your face, tilt your head back gently and away from his chest until you're looking at him again, meeting his baby blues as he smiles down at you all soft and gentle, "Tomorrow, 6pm, I'll pick up, okay?"

"Okay..."

He can't really resist it, the last kiss he presses to your lips, short, sweet but no less delightful than every taste of your lips he's had tonight. "G'night, baby."

"Night, Clay..."

He watches you unlock your door, waits until you wave goodnight, until you're inside, door closed and he hears the distinctive click and turn of the lock before he all but skips down the steps of your porch.

He's practically dancing to his car cause fuck, that's his future wife right there and he's determined to make you his by the end of the month.

[yelenasdiary]

Another little au prompt!! Its more about Nat and Wanda tho. When Wanda goes through her mind during ultron, she sees the trauma of the red room but then the delight of her being a mother. Some cute angst/fluff when they talk about it at the tower later when Wanda joins up?

Breaking The Ice

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff Mentions of Nat x Daughter! Reader.

Summary: Wanda breaks the ice with Nat and apologizes for the events that took place at the HYDRA base. 

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room & Pregnancy, Nat being under Wanda’s magic | 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this!! I love this idea so much!! I wanna say Reader is 3 years old here, sorry it’s not hella long! I hope you enjoy! x

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

It’s been a week since the Avengers attacked the HYDRA base in Sokovia, Natasha wanted nothing more than to go home and see her little girl but the endless mission reports and follow ups were stopping her from leaving. Laura was looking after you while Natasha was working, she called once a day whenever she could just to hear your mumbles of words or your adorable giggles. It gave your mother a peace of mind that she would be home soon, and that you were in the safest hands possible.

Natasha was just starting to file some paperwork when Wanda knocked softly on the door. The red head struggled to even look at the now new member of the Avengers, after what she did to Nat at the base, she didn’t trust Wanda even for a second. 

“Can I help you?” Natasha asked sternly, shooting the young woman a deep glare. Wanda’s eyes dropped to the small pile of paperwork that Natasha was making neat. “I- I just wanted to apologise for what I did” she said, slowly looking up at Nat once more. 

“You can save it; you probably already know how I feel” Nat light shook her head. Wanda slowly entered the room and took a seat, showing Natasha that she wasn’t going anywhere until she was confident Nat could forgive her, even if it was a small bit of forgiveness. 

“You have every right to be mad with me, I should never have done what did” Wanda admits, taking full responsibility. 

“I don’t think you even understand what you did, you just enter people’s minds without a second thought. You have no idea what you put me through!” Natasha snapped, clenching her jaw. “You made me relive a part of my life that I try day in and day out to forget. Can you even think about how traumatising that is for somebody? I don’t care that it was something you just had to do in the moment, so please. Save it” she added.

Wanda’s eyes dropped once more, this time to hers in her lap “the good weighs out the bad” she replied. A small moment of silence filled the room before Wanda spoke once more. “Your daughter, she weighs out the bad” she added, looking up at the Avenger. “You’re holding so much against yourself for what you were made to do, you think everybody thinks you’re a bad person but you’re not. I entered everybody’s mind that day, I saw a lot of hurt and darkness but the brightest thing I saw was the joy you felt when you found out you were pregnant” 

Nat’s mind instantly reminded her of that day, although she was scared, she was so happy and excited. A soft smile tugged at her lips before she remembered she was in the room with somebody else. “I don’t want you to hate me, I’m new here and I don’t know anything, so I understand why you don’t like me. I just want a chance, I want to do good, and I guess, you’re the only person I know that would understand how I’m feeling” Wanda added, bringing Natasha’s thoughts to the woman in front of her.

Natasha knew little of Wanda and her powers and she knew she couldn’t hold her actions against her, after all, she was only doing what she was told to do. Nat let out a heavy sigh before she took her seat again, “I would really appreciate it if you kept what you saw to yourself” she said softly. 

“Of course,” Wanda replied, giving Nat a soft smile. Silence once again filling the room as Nat looked down at the small pile of paperwork in front of her, “What’s her name?” Wanda asked, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Y/n, she’s three” Nat said as she began to file some of the paperwork. 

“She’s beautiful, does she stay here while you’re working?” 

Natasha shook her head before she looked up at Wanda once more, “No, she stays with family. After I finish here, I get to finally go home”

“You must miss her” The brunette commented. 

“I do” Nat couldn’t help the smile softly tugging at her lips at the thought of finally being able to hold you again, to read your favorite bedtime story, to hear your contagious laugh once more. “For what it’s worth, you’re not a bad person. People like us were just delt with shit cards, it’s what you do from now on that matters. We are team here; you can apologise as much as you need but actions speak louder than words here” Nat adds before rising from her seat.

Wanda nodded, acknowledging the widow’s words, “I figured. Not everybody seems to be very talkative, beside Vision, I guess” 

“They’ll warm up to you, after all, you did try to kill us” Nat replied as she walked towards the door, Wanda turning in her chair to face the woman once more, “thank you, Natasha”

“Call me Nat” the red heard smiled once more, “if you’ll excuse me, I have a little girl waiting for me at home” she added.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | @noturlondonboy | @lovelyy-moonlight | @ghxst-guts | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[stxrsniolo]

┈̸̷┅ ̤ childlike wonder!chris x imaginary friend!reader ━̸̷︭

╁ ⠀aegan is typing . . . ⠀⠀ࡆ⠀⠀alright, lovebirds, prepare for an overload of sweetness that's gonna make your teeth ache and your heart melt, since this piece is all about those warm, fuzzy feelings that make life worth living, so get ready for some pure, unadulterated fluff that'll have you smiling like an idiot. you're welcome.

in the dim light of his room, filled with the soft glow of fairy lights strung up like stars, chris was in his element. at 21, with the world expecting him to act his age, he still found joy in the simple, the whimsical. his room was a testament to his refusal to let go of the magic of childhood - posters of fantastical creatures, a shelf of action figures, and books on mythology and fairy tales.

and there she was, y/n, his imaginary friend since he was a kid, sitting cross-legged on his bed, her form slightly translucent, glowing with an ethereal light. she was as vibrant as ever, her attire a mix of every color and style she'd picked up from the stories chris loved. today, she wore a pirate hat with a dress that looked like it was made from the night sky.

"chris, you've got to do something about your pirate ship," y/n said, her voice like the tinkling of bells, pointing at the lego model ship on his desk. "it's looking a bit too... landlocked."

chris chuckled, his laughter genuine, the sound of someone who hadn't lost the wonder of youth. "aye, aye, captain y/n," he replied, his pirate accent playfully exaggerated. "but first, we've got to rescue the princess from the dragon's tower!"

they embarked on their adventure, chris moving around his room, narrating their journey through perilous landscapes and magical forests, with y/n adding her own dramatic flair. she'd mimic the roar of dragons or the swish of a wizard's cloak, making chris burst into laughter or dive into his bed to 'escape' danger.

they made it to the 'tower', which was actually chris's tall bookshelf. "see, the princess is up there, guarded by the fearsome dragon," chris said, pointing at his favorite fantasy novel on the top shelf.

y/n feigned terror, then bravery. "fear not, brave knight, for i have the magic of... imagination!" she waved her hand, and with a flourish, chris took a broomstick, pretending it was a magic wand, casting an 'invisible spell' on the dragon.

chris climbed onto his desk chair, then onto the bookshelf itself, carefully reaching for the book. "rescued!" he declared, hopping back down, holding the book aloft like a trophy.

"and now, the celebration feast!" y/n announced, and they both settled on the bed, surrounded by a fort made of blankets and pillows. chris pulled out a bag of candy, their feast, as they shared stories from the book, each one becoming more fantastical with y/n's input.

"imagine if we could really fly on dragons," chris mused, his eyes bright with the idea.

y/n nodded, her form shimmering with excitement. "we'd have the best view of the world, and we'd visit all the hidden kingdoms."

their conversation flowed from one dream to another, from inventing new spells to planning their next adventure. chris's room was their playground, where anything was possible, where the mundane was transformed into the magical.

as the night wore on, chris's laughter became yawns, his eyes heavy with sleep. y/n watched him with a soft smile, knowing her time was limited when he was awake but boundless in his dreams.

"goodnight, y/n," chris whispered, his voice thick with the comfort of their shared world.

"goodnight, chris," she replied, her voice a gentle lullaby. "dream of dragons and adventures. i'll be here when you wake." with that, chris drifted to sleep, the book still clutched in his hand, the room silent except for his steady breathing.

⨥⠀ ⠀⠀aegan is typing ᅟᅟ:ᅟ⠀heads up, copycats and wannabe adaptors: my work is mine, period. no copies, no mashups, and definitely no translations getting thrown up here or anywhere else without my say-so.

keep your hands off unless i give you the green light, got it?

tags: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Teacher's Pet Baby

First Time

Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader

Summary: You slip during class for the first time and it doesn't go unnoticed

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Age regression, mild anxiety, emotional vulnerability, fluff and comfort

Authors notes: After writing the first part this had started to come to mind so it was nice to get it all written out~

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

The first few weeks of class were nothing out of the ordinary—except for the way you found yourself drawn to Professor Maximoff. There was something about the way she spoke, how her voice carried both authority and warmth, that made you want to listen more intently. You were eager to impress her, to ask every question that popped into your head, just to see that soft smile she reserved for students who showed genuine curiosity.

You didn’t know what it was that made you crave her attention so badly, but you knew that every time she praised you, something deep inside you warmed, a feeling of safety and validation that you couldn’t quite explain.

Then, one day, as you flipped the page in your textbook, your eyes landed on the title printed in bold letters at the top:

Coping Mechanisms: Age Regression

Your stomach twisted immediately.

Two whole pages on the subject, defining it, explaining how it functioned as a response to stress or trauma. You barely heard Wanda begin her lecture, your mind spiraling as you felt yourself slipping, your fingers tightening around the edge of the book.

It wasn’t until you heard the soft laughter—quiet, but unmistakable—that the dread fully set in.

"People actually do this?" one student muttered under their breath.

"That’s so weird." Another scoffed, shaking their head.

Your breath hitched, and you had to blink rapidly to stop the tears from forming. They didn’t know. They had no idea that right here, in the same room, was someone who did—who couldn’t help it, whose mind sometimes reverted without warning. You wanted to shrink, to disappear, but before the panic could settle in further, Wanda’s voice cut through the murmurs, firm and unwavering.

"That’s enough," she said sharply, silencing the room in an instant.

All eyes snapped toward her, and you dared to look up. Her expression was serious, her usual soft demeanor replaced by something strict and protective.

"I expect professionalism in my class," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the students. "We are here to learn, not to ridicule others for coping mechanisms that are valid and often necessary for mental health." She let her words settle before adding, "If anyone here finds it difficult to show respect for psychological concepts that people actually experience, then perhaps this is not the right field for you."

Silence.

Your hands trembled slightly in your lap, but for an entirely different reason now. No one had ever defended you like that before. No one had ever made you feel like what you did—what you were—was okay.

Wanda’s gaze flickered to you for just a moment, softer now, like she knew. Like she had already pieced something together but wouldn’t call attention to it. Instead, she resumed her lecture, effortlessly guiding the class back on track, leaving you sitting there with a heart racing for a whole new reason.

From that moment on, you weren’t just drawn to Wanda Maximoff. You needed her.

As the lecture came to an end and you were trying to pack up Wanda called you over, "Have a good night everyone and remember to do the reading and get your assignment done for Monday's class! Oh and y/n please stay a moment. I'd like to discuss something with you." 

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Wanda could hear it. You weren’t in trouble—at least, she didn’t sound upset—but you still couldn’t shake the nerves twisting inside you.

She had never asked you to stay after class before.

You stayed frozen, hands gripping the edge of your desk as you watched her move. But instead of standing over you like a professor scolding a student, she did something entirely unexpected—she walked to the door, locked it with a soft click, and then made her way over to you.

Wanda crouched down in front of your desk, leaning against it with an easy, open posture. Her smile was gentle, and when her warm eyes met yours, something inside you softened, though your body still trembled slightly.

"Hi, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice filled with nothing but kindness. "You're feeling pretty small right now, aren’t you?"

You swallowed thickly. It was impossible to hide, not when she knew, when she could see right through you. Words felt too hard, too big, so you just nodded, blinking rapidly as emotion threatened to well up in your chest.

"That’s okay, sweetie," she assured, her tone soothing as she reached out, resting a hand over yours for just a moment. "This was your last class, right?"

You nodded again.

"I have papers to grade," she continued. "You and I can stay right here, okay?"

Another nod. This time, accompanied by a tiny, shy smile.

Wanda’s expression softened even further. She stood up, her fingers reaching out to gently comb through your hair, the touch grounding in a way you didn’t even know you needed.

"You’re safe with me, Malyshka," she whispered.

✎✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐

While Wanda graded her papers you decided to draw, pulling out your crayons and drawing pad. Wanda let her eyes flick up every so often to watch you. Her expression softened as she saw you so concentrated, your tongue just poking out past your lips. 

She wanted to giggle, but worried it might upset you so she held back, turning her attention back to her papers until she heard you get up, feet padding over to her. She looked up past her glasses. 

"Yes sweetheart?" She asked softly, "Do you have something to show me?" You nodded eagerly and turned the page around.

Wanda let a warm smile tug at her lips as she examined the drawing, her heart melting at the sight of it. You had drawn yourself much smaller, hand held securely in hers, your features simple but unmistakably you. Wanda’s own figure was a little more detailed—her hair a mess of crayon strokes, her glasses perched delicately on her nose—but the most touching detail was the way your hands were clasped together.

Wanda ran her fingers over the crayon lines, her chest tightening in the best way as she admired your drawing. It was simple, childlike, but so full of love that it made her heart ache.

"You did such a good job, sweetheart," she murmured, looking up at you with a soft smile. "I love it, Malyshka."

Your lips curled up, eyes sparkling at her praise. You rocked on your heels, waiting, hopeful, and Wanda knew exactly what you needed. She set her papers aside, focusing entirely on you.

"Come here, baby," she said gently, opening her arms. "Come sit with Mama."

The second the word left her lips, she felt it—the way you froze. Your happy sway stopped, your hands clenched slightly at your sides. You blinked at her, uncertainty flickering in your expression as you searched her face.

"Mama?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda stayed perfectly still, giving you space to process. She hadn’t called herself that before, at least not out loud, though she had thought about it more times than she could count.

"Only if you want me to be, sweetheart," she assured softly, her voice steady, warm. "I would never make you do something you’re not comfortable with."

You shifted on your feet, fingers curling against the fabric of your sleeves. "But... do you want to be?"

Wanda’s breath caught for just a moment before she exhaled, nodding. "I do," she admitted, her hand resting gently on her knee, not reaching for you, just waiting. "I’d love to take care of you in whatever way you need."

You stared at her, the hesitation clear in your expression. But beneath it, Wanda could see something else—longing, hope, the deep desire for safety and care.

She kept her voice soft. "You don’t have to decide right now, Malyshka."

You bit your lip, shifting your weight from foot to foot before, slowly, you stepped closer. Wanda didn’t move, letting you take the lead, and after a brief pause, you finally climbed onto her lap, settling hesitantly against her.

Wanda wrapped her arms around you carefully, rubbing soothing circles along your back.

You stayed stiff for a moment before you melted into her, resting your head against her shoulder. A soft sigh left you as your fingers grasped at her sweater, holding onto her like you were afraid she might disappear.

Wanda pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, her lips brushing against your warm skin. "I've got you, sweetheart. Always."

And this time, you didn’t hesitate to believe her.

[gardens-light]

OOOOH THE TAMARAN ASK WAS SO GOOD YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!!

My brain immediately thought of the idea of Tamaran rulers finding out how corrupt Sentinel Prime is. But before they could do anything, Sentinel Prime declares all Tamaran’s enemies of Cybertron and should be arrested/executed on sight. How would Orion Pax, D-16, Starscream and B-127 react to that?? Their significant other is now technically enemies of the damn planet because of Sentinel Prime’s corruption.

Thank you so much! That was honestly the first time I've done a head cannon. So your feedback is really appreciative :) I absolutely love this idea! And couldn't help but immedictly come up with some ideas. I added Sentinel S/O, of how they would react to his betrayal.

Transformers One x GN/Tamaran Reader (Rebellion Headcanons)

When the rulers of Tamaran uncovered Sentinel Prime’s corruption, they intended to act carefully. But before they could make a move, Sentinel struck first.

With a single decree, Sentinel labeled every Tamaran as an enemy of Cybertron. Arrest on sight. Execution, if necessary.

Part 1

Orion Pax

At first, Orion couldn’t believe it. Sentinel had always been strict, but this? This was tyranny.

The news reached him as he was sifting through old files in Iacon’s Hall of Records. His spark nearly stopped when he heard Sentinel’s voice echo across the city's holograms:

"Effective immediately, Tamaran and its people are enemies of Cybertron. Any Cybertronian found aiding them will be branded a traitor and dealt with accordingly."

Orion dropped everything and ran.

His optics scanned every corner, searching desperately for you. Finally finding you at one of your usual spots—an abandoned balcony overlooking Iacon’s golden skyline. There you were standing still, back turned, arms crossed. Clearly... you've heard.

Once hearing his footsteps approach you, eyes shining with pain as you met his gaze. “Orion… what do we do?”

Without saying a word, he simply held you close. Pressing soft kisses upon the top of your head, hoping that it would provide you some sort of comfort.

---

At first, Orion tried to use legal channels. He poured through archives, trying to find a loophole, a way to revoke Sentinel’s order. He contacted old mentors, tried to rally officials— surely someone else saw how wrong this was? But he was met with silence. Fear. Only to realize how deep Sentinel’s grip was.

That’s when Orion knew—Cybertron wasn’t listening.

So he changed tactics.

He began whispering among the people. At first, quiet murmurs—discontent spreading in hidden circles. Then, stronger words, fueling those who had already begun questioning Sentinel’s leadership.

You stayed with him every step of the way, offering insight, sharing knowledge of war tactics—because Tamaran had seen tyrants before. Teaching Orion that fighting oppression wasn’t just about weapons. It was about hope. About showing the people that there was another way.

When Sentinel’s enforcers began actively hunting Tamaraneans, you both fought back. Stealing transport ships, smuggling refugees out of Iacon, dismantling surveillance systems—turning Sentinel’s own strategies against him.

But it came with a price.

You were attacked, without warning. Sentinel’s enforcers surrounded you in an alley, weapons drawn, optics cold. Orion arrived just in time, his voice sharp as he ordered them to stand down.

“They are under my protection,” he said, stepping between you and Sentinel's guards.

“They are an enemy,” the enforcer replied.

Orion’s fists clenched. Not to me.

As the guards lurched forwards, Orion protected you with fierce defence. Using his surroundings and the weight of his enemy to his advantage.

There was no going back now.

“You need to leave the city,” his voice breaking. “I can’t—I can’t let them take you.”

But you shook your head. “Not without you.”

Orion felt something deep inside shift. He had spent his life believing in Cybertron’s system. Now, he realized it was broken beyond repair.

His revolution wasn’t just for Cybertron anymore. It was for you.

D16/Megatron

When Sentinel’s decree reached D-16’s audio receptors, something inside him snapped.

He had known cruelty. He had suffered the caste system’s brutality. He had seen the weak crushed under Cybertronian rule.

But this? This was personal.

Sentinel had just painted a target on his partner’s back. His sparkmate.

He found them you in his quarters deep within Kaon, a city that he claimed since renaming himself 'Megatron'. But your usual fierce expression was shadowed with unease.

“They’ll come for me,” you lowly spoke. Hugging yourself.

D-16 reached out, gently tracing his fingers along your face. “Let them try.”

---

His rage was unstoppable. He declared Kaon a sanctuary for Tamaraneans. He sent squads of his most elite warriors to intercept Sentinel’s enforcers before they could capture anyone.

He stormed through Kaon, his optics burning with fury, his fusion cannon primed. He ordered his Decepticons to spread the word—any Cybertronian who so much as looked at a Tamaran wrong would answer to him.

And that, he made a promise.

“I will rip him apart!,” he growled, holding your face between his servos, his touch gentle despite the rage in his voice. “I will make him suffer for every spark he’s condemned. For every Tamaran who has suffered under his hand-”

Usually you where the voice of reason, but this time... you hesitated. “D, you can’t—”

“Can’t?” He let out a low, bitter laugh. “Watch me.”

As promised, Kaon was a safe haven. Any Tamaran who managed to flee was given protection, weapons, shelter. He sent squads to hunt Sentinel’s enforcers, eliminating them before they could report back. He turned the hunt on them.

But it wasn’t enough.

D-16 wanted Sentinel dead.

He started planning his execution.

One night, you caught him alone in the war room, staring at Sentinel’s holographic image with murder in his optics.

“This... isn’t just about saving my people anymore... is it?”

D-16 didn’t answer at first. But in a low, dangerous voice, he said, “I will rip the throne from beneath him. I will watch him beg—” his servos clenched into fists—“I will crush him.”

You placed a hand over his chest, right where his spark pulsed. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Promise me... you won’t lose yourself.”

His servo softly covered your hand, pressing it tightly against him.

“I promise you,” he murmured. “That I will never forgive him.”

It wasn't about Cybertron anymore, or the false prophets. It was about revenge.

And he would burn Sentinel’s empire to the ground for you.

Starscream

Starscream had seen Cybertron’s corruption firsthand. But even he was surprised by Sentinel’s decree.

When he first read the official notice, he scoffed. A declaration of war against an entire species? How predictable.

But then—he realized what it meant for you.

His Tamaran partner.

His Sparkmate.

Wasting no time, Starscream erased your records. Tamaran's had unique energy signatures, yet he? He was an expert at falsifying data. As far as Cybertron’s systems were concerned, you had never existed.

Records? Gone. Surveillance footage? Altered. As far as Cybertron was concerned, you had never existed.

When he returned home that night, he found you waiting for him, arms crossed.

“You erased me,” your voice was filled with hurt. Something that made his spark ache, more than he cared to admit.

“I saved you,” he corrected. “You’re safe.”

But you didn’t look relieved. You looked… disappointed. Angry.

“Safe?” you whispered. “Or hidden?”

Starscream’s confidence wavered. “Both.”

You reached out, cupping his face. “I don’t want to be your secret, Starscream.”

His wings trembled.

He knew the only way to protect you was to play Sentinel’s game better than he did.

So, he made a decision.

Starscream began manipulating Sentinel’s own system against him. He forged false reports, sent Sentinel’s enforcers on wild goose chases, created fabricated confessions from high-ranking officials claiming that they were the ones aiding Tamaraneans.

All the while, he kept his you hidden. His once-spacious quarters now had concealed compartments, energy dampeners, emergency exits. Holding you tight against him, as you cuddled into his side every night. Falling into a calm, comforting sleep while he whispered heartful promises of keeping you safe.

B-127

B-127 wasn’t a strategist. He wasn’t a warlord.

He didn’t understand why Sentinel had done this. But he understood what it meant. You—the one he had laughed with, danced with, loved—was now a target.

Bee’s only instinct was to protect you.

The moment he heard the decree, he panicked. He searched the entire city of Iacon, until he found you hiding in the shadows of an ally, eyes wide with fear.

Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms. “You'll be safe,” he sighed, his servos shaking. “I promise.”

He smuggled you onto a cargo train that ventured to the surface of Cybertron, using encrypted codes to scramble the location, taking you both far away from the warzones. He set up camp in a forgotten, abandoned wasteland where no Cybertronian dared to go.

But even in hiding, he still loved.

He still played music for you. He still collected little glowing Cybertronian flowers from the outskirts of Iacon, placing them in your hands like he always did. He still wanted to see and hear your laugh, even when the universe wanted to tear you apart. Bee still danced with you under the neon glow of the surrounding energon rivers.

And when you laid together at night, curled up in the quiet safety of the old energon mine, he'd take your hand and pressed it over his spark. Kissing you with a tender touch, pouring all his love into that single moment.

Sentinel Prime

When Sentinel Prime first courted you, it was a calculated decision. A political move. A strategy.

He painted himself as a strong, noble warrior—an honorable leader who valued power and unity. To the Tamaraneans, he spoke of alliances, of diplomacy, of a future where Cybertron and Tamaran stood side by side.

And to you? He whispered words of devotion. Promises of loyalty. Declarations of love.

And you, being his fierce, passionate, and noble partner— you believed him. Trusted him.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Sentinel branded your people as enemies of Cybertron.

No warning. No explanation.

One day, you were the Prime’s beloved consort. The next? You were a traitor?

The moment you heard the decree, you couldn't help but freeze. Standing in the great halls of Iacon, surrounded by towering Cybertronians, listening as Sentinel Prime himself declared your people to be hunted!

Your heart pounded. Eyes widened. Surely—surely—you... had misheard him?

You turned to him, desperate, searching his face for some kind of explanation. But... Sentinel didn't even look at you.

He stared straight ahead, voice cold, commanding. "All who harbor Tamaraneans will share their fate."

It felt like your entire world shattered.

Everything—everything—you two had built together. The future you both had envisioned. The love you had believed in.

It was all a lie.

“Sentinel,” you whispered, stepping toward him. “Tell me this isn’t real.”

Only then did he turn to face you. And the look in his optics— unbothered, calculating, utterly indifferent—was what finally broke you.

“This is the path Cybertron requires,” he said simply, tone filled with coldness.

And that was when you realized— Sentinel Prime never truly loved you

You had been a pawn in his game. A tool to gain Tamaran’s trust, to keep your people in line while he tightened his grip on Cybertron.

But now?

Now, you were inconvenient. Expendable.

You didn’t even have time to grieve. The moment Sentinel was done speaking, his enforcers turned toward you.

Weapons drawn.

“By order of Sentinel Prime, you are under arrest.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Hands tightened into fists. Arrested? Executed?

By him?

By the mech who had once sworn to cherish you?

Rage and heartbreak burned inside you, but the only thing you could was run.

Blasters fired behind you, while sprinting down the golden halls of Iacon. The once-loyal guards chased you through the city streets.

Everything you and Sentinel had once ruled over together, had now turned against you.

By the time you finally escaped into the wastelands of Cybertron, your body was trembling. Mind spinning.

There was nothing now.

No home. No allies.

No Sentinel.

And the cruelest truth of all: The mech you loved had never truly existed.

[transingthoseformers]

Types of carriers the Megatrons would be

G1 - Would actually be okay if not for Starscream every five minutes saying "MEGATRON IS CARRYING! I, STARSCREAM, AM NOW-" and thus he's not allowing himself berthrest. He will got to battle even if he is obviously carrying! Shockwave is considering welding Starscream's mouth shut and Soundwave is all for it.

MTMTE (Lost Light) - Ooohhh you know this mech is Brooding because he's certainly it's a bad idea to allow himself this. Other crewmates got the baby fever and are trying their best to keep the ship as proper as possible for a future sparkling to be born on (Rodimus is actually Calming Down, a miracle. Brainstorm is not but he's being Heavily Supervised). Megatron is misunderstanding people avoiding being too close to him as 'They hate the monster now carrying his own spawn' when in reality they're just being real careful!

Earthspark - Imagine a human sized How To Parent book in his servos. He's taken out the spectacles for this. Now he is of course Conflicted that he'd even be a good Carrier but everyone is there to support him and assure him that he certainly won't be doing it alone. There even was a care package left by the Deceptions! (Soundwave is so planning to kidnap that sparkling, Prowl accurately predicted) What helps is all the Terrans expressing eagerness to having a 'cousin' added to the family.

TFP - Everyone Is Scared On The Nemesis. This Megatron has the worst, I mean the w o r s t mood swings! Vehicons are encouraged to just avoid him overall so they stop losing their own troops! Only Soundwave feels any delight at this, not even Megatron is that happy because this is a Pain, a Setback, this is not the ideal time for a new heir to his empire to be reared! The Autobots are unaware the extra efforts to mine energon from the Deceptions are for the sake of sating their lord's monstrous cravings.

Oh, interesting!!!!

These all could lead to interesting situations

[reidtina]

Restrained

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warnings: +18 MDI sex, roleplay, handcuffs, petnames, orgasm, creampie (youre on the pill tho and youre married), idk

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: Spencer Reid and Y/N had been married for nearly 10 years, and things got a little boring in the bedroom department, so they decided to spice things up a little. Tonight they're using his handcuffs for something other than arresting criminals...

a/n: this is my first spencer fic, so idk if its good, hope yall like it just as much as I liked writing it. Btw, its also on ao3, as always. love you guys. If you enjoy it pls like and repost

You and Spencer had been dating for nearly 10 years (9 years, 8 months and 24 days, like he pointed out earlier), and had been married for about half of this time, and you quickly found out that the whole “couples stop having sex after a while of being married” thing is not entirely bullshit. It’s not like you didn’t ever have sex, but with work and him being out of town all the time things just got colder, you did have sex, but it wasn’t so exciting and to be honest, as much as you were attracted to each other, it felt more like a chore. So that’s why you decided to try something new every week, you missed the beginning stages of dating and how a minor touch turned into you two sweating and trying to breath as your bodies collided in the most delicious dance.

Tonight’s idea wasn’t entirely new, you always had a thing for him wearing his FBI bulletproof vest or anything that reminded you that he was an FBI agent, a really hot one, by the way. And when you brought up the idea, he was more than willing to try, he had been meaning to try new things as well, as he had read that it’s a good idea to spice things up so the marriage don’t become boring and falls apart.

So tonight, when he got home from a work trip, still wearing his suit and looking extra hot, he decided to try out your suggestion, taking the opportunity as you had said it’d be even hotter if you weren’t expecting it, adding spontaneity to the mix.

He opened the door just to find you on the couch, reading a book and drinking a glass of wine wearing only an old shirt of his and pajama shorts. He grins at the sight, he loves to watch you read, but it makes him want to rip your clothes off. When you look up at him, you know what’s going to happen next.

“I’ve heard someone here hasn’t been exactly a good girl” he feels a little embarrassed to say this, but the look on your face quickly makes him lose any embarrassment he could possible feel.

“Am I not a good girl?” you ask as you put down your book on the side table next to the glass of wine. He pretends to consider this as he sits down next to you on the couch “Well, most of the time you are a very good girl… but you can be naughty sometimes too.”

You smirk, starting to enjoy this “Oh, yeah?” you ask almost in a whisper.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,” he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I can think of a few times just last week when you were being very naughty”

“Like when?” you whisper.

“Oh, I could give you a list if I wanted to,” he answers, his lips now grazing your neck. “But I can think of one specific instance that really stood out.”

“And what was it?” you genuinely had no idea what he could say, considering that with this whole “let’s spice up our marriage” thing you had been having insane amounts of sex and doing all sorts of new things.

His hand slips under your shirt, his fingertips gently tracing along your skin. “Let’s just say that little stunt you pulled in front of the bedroom mirror a week ago really got me going.”

Now you remember, last week he fingered you in front of the full length mirror you have in your room and made you watch. You lean into his ear and whisper “Oh, you mean when you fingered me in front of the mirror so I could watch it?”

He shivers at your words, his hand clutching at your hip. “Yes, that, exactly that,” he growls in your ear. “I really loved that little show you put on.”

You raise your eyebrow in a fake surprise and ask “Did you?”

He nods, his hand slowly moving up your torso again. “Mhmm, I especially enjoyed the sounds you were making.”

You smirk and say “I can't help myself when your fingers are inside me”. His hand finally reaches its destination, cupping your breast, he’s always glad you don’t wear a bra when you’re home. “I know you can’t. And I certainly enjoy it.” He nips at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “I was so excited about it, in fact, that I wanted to reward you right then.”

“Maybe you should reward me right now.” you whisper back to him. A low growl escapes his throat as he pulls back slightly to look you in the eyes. “Oh really? You think you’re ready for a reward now? Don’t you think you’ve been a bad girl?”

“I guess it’s your job to find out, Agent Reid.” you say, the title you just called him making you even wetter.

He moves closer, his body pressing against yours. “You know, I’ll have to conduct a thorough investigation to make sure you’re a good girl…” You chuckle and reply “Do what you must, agent.”

He grins, clearly enjoying the roleplay. “Oh, I plan on it.” He suddenly stands, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you up along with him. “Now, come with me. I need to thoroughly investigate.” You stand up and he guides you down the short hallway to your bedroom, walking backwards and keeping his eyes firmly fixed on you. He pushes the door open and steps inside, pulling you in behind him. “Now, we’ll need somewhere to conduct this investigation…” He looks around the room pretending to look for something, before his gaze settles on the bed, a knowing look in his eyes.

He pushes you back towards the bed, gently guiding you down to sit on the edge of the mattress. “First, we’ll need to begin searching for any evidence of bad behavior…”  He steps back slightly and pretends to look you over intently, as if inspecting you for any indications of misconduct.

“Mmm, I’m not seeing anything so far…” he says, his eyes roaming over your body. “But, just to be safe, I will need you to lie down, please.” Not even a second after he said that, you’re laying down on the bed.

He steps forward again, standing in between your legs, his gaze hungrily taking in the sight of you. “Mmm, much better. The more evidence there is, the better…” He slowly reaches down, his hands roaming up your bare legs, he loves it when all you’re wearing is one of his old shirts and really short shorts. “Now,” he continues, his voice lower and huskier now. “How far does the evidence go?”

His hands continue to move up up your legs, reaching the hem of your shirt and pulling it up slightly. “Let’s start here,” he mutters, his hands gently pushing your shirt up further, exposing your stomach. “I need to make sure no bad behavior is hiding under here…” His hands continue up, inching your shirt even higher as he takes his time inspecting your body for any signs of “bad behavior”.

 “Looks all clear so far… but I can’t be too careful…” He lifts the shirt up over your head, gently removing it and tossing it aside. “Ah, much better. Now I can see my evidence a lot clearer.”  He grins mischievously, his eyes raking over your bare chest. “And I see a few things I should inspect more closely…”

You breathe deeply as he gets closer to your breasts with his face and you can feel his hot breath on your bare skin. He looks up at you, his eyes full of lust. “Mmm yes, I see some very important evidence here that I need to get a closer look at…”

He grins at your response, his lips now ghosting over your skin. “Excellent. I’ll need to take my time with these…they’re very important to the case.” He moves closer, his mouth finally making contact with your skin as he slowly starts peppering kisses along your chest and you moan softly. He smirks at the sound of your moan, his lips curving against your skin. “Yes, don’t hold back your sounds, sweetheart. I need to hear every response.” He continues kissing across your chest, his tongue occasionally darting out to taste your skin.

He moves in, his lips hovering just above your skin as he speaks. “You don’t mind if I have a closer look, do you? You have to collaborate with this federal investigation” You shake your head “I don’t mind, go ahead, agent.”

“So far, this evidence is turning out to be very good…” he mutters against your skin, moving towards your right nipple. “But I think I need to investigate further…” His mouth moves closer to your nipple, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your sensitive skin. “I see something very interesting right here…” He stops just short of your nipple, looking up at you with a sly grin. “But before I get started, I’ll to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

You sigh with disappointment and say “Go ahead.” He grins, enjoying teasing you, his mouth still hovering tantalizingly close to your breast. “Good. This won’t take long, I just need to make sure you’re being honest with me, sweetheart.” He pauses, waiting for a hint of confirmation from you before continuing, you nod.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. “Now, the first question is… do you know why you’re being investigated today?”

“No, sir, why?” you ask in fake innocence. He smiles, continuing his teasing. “Well, reports claim that you’ve been quite naughty recently…” He lifts his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Is that true? Have you been naughty lately?”

“That wouldn't be me, agent.” you say, trying to hold back a grin.

“You know lying to law enforcement is illegal, right? And the sources say you’ve been doing some very naughty things…” he counters, his lips still a breath away from your skin. “Oh, yeah? Like what?” you try to look surprised. He grins again, his lips now grazing your skin. “Oh, various things…but especially this little incident that just happened a week ago…” He leans in closer to your ear as he whispers, “I think you know what I’m speaking of.”

“I have no idea, agent, what is it?” you want to hear him saying. He laughs softly. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. I know how good your memory is…” He moves back, his gaze holding yours firmly. “Do I need to remind you what happened, miss?”

“Yes, agent Reid.”

He smirks, enjoying the roleplay more and more. “Okay, maybe I can jog your memory, then.” A shiver runs through him as he speaks, remembering the night in question. “Think about a week ago. What happened with us in front of the mirror?”

You smirk just from thinking of it. “Do you mean when you fingered me to tears and made me watch?” He lets out a soft chuckle, his fingers digging into your legs slightly. “Yes, exactly that… and how did that make you feel?”

“Good as fuck… sir.” You pause before calling him sir, still a little shy about the roleplay. He laughs, his teeth scraping against your collarbone. “I know it did. You were making the most delicious sounds…”  He leans in close to your ear, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “But don’t you think that was naughty behavior?”

“Maybe it was, agent.” You pretend to look innocent, but deep down you just want him to punish you in the hottest ways possible. He chuckles, clearly not buying your act. “Maybe it was? I think it was.” He moves his head back to look you in the eyes again, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “And do you think naughty behavior deserves a punishment?”

“Absolutely.” You nod, eager for whatever punishment he decides to give you. He grins, clearly enjoying this game just as much as you. “Good answer. So you admit that you deserve to be punished for being naughty?”

“Yes.”

“And if you admit that you deserve a punishment, then you should also agree to take this punishment like a good girl, shouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely, agent.”

“Correct. And luckily I have just the punishment in mind for you…” He moves back, standing up straight. “Since you seem so eager for your punishment, I think I’ll just start with it right now.” He looks down at you, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Now, I need you to do something for me, okay?”

“What is it?” you ask, barely able to wait for him to touch you.

He smiles, his fingers gently tracing along your legs. “I need you to sit up for me, please.”

 You sit back up as he asked.

“Good girl” he says, his voice soft and approving. “Now, I’m just going to grab something quickly, alright?” He turns away, grabbing his handcuffs from his drawer in the nightstand.

He looks back at you, holding up the handcuff with a smirk. “Perfect. Now, hold your hands out, please.”

“Such a good girl.” He says when you hold your hands in front of your body. He moves forward, carefully handcuffing you. He looks down at his work, inspecting your hands with a nod. “Looks good. Now, lie back down.” As you lie down, he moves back up to the bed, crawling up to kneel between your legs. “Now, I have another request for you.” He pauses, his hand gently trailing up your legs. “I need you to keep your legs open for me… don’t move them at all.”

You open your legs, and now your panties are picking out from the waistband of your shorts. He grins, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body. “Good girl. You know how to listen well…” He reaches down, his fingers sliding up under your shorts, slowly pushing it down to reveal more of your skin. “But you don’t move your legs until I say so, do you understand?”

“Understood, agent Reid.” you say and feel kinda proud you’re also a Reid. “Very good.” He moves closer, now hovering just above you. “You’re a perfect little canvas to work with right now.” He rests a hand on your stomach, tracing small circles with his fingertips. “But I do need to know something else first…”

“What is it, agent?” you ask genuinely curious and eager for him to just touch you already. He grins, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re eager and desperate for his touch. “I need to know how badly you want this. How badly do you want me to touch you right now?”

“Really bad.”

He laughs lightly at your response. “I can see that. But I need you to tell me in words. How badly do you want me?”

“I want you really bad.”

He leans down, his mouth hovering just above your body. “And I know you’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”

“I am.” That couldn’t be more true.

He moves down, now resting on his forearms as he positions himself between your legs. “I can see that. You’re practically trembling… begging for me to touch you…”

“It’s torture.” You say.

“I know. But I need to be thorough. I need to collect all the evidence that I can… and I’m finding plenty of evidence that you’re being desperate and needy…”

“Does it mean I'm being a bad girl?” you ask teasingly.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Yes, I would say it does. You’re having such a desperate, needy reaction to me right now… it’s incredibly bad girl behavior.” He leans down and kisses your inner thigh. “But you’re also being a good girl, because you haven’t closed your legs yet…”

“I'm not all bad, you see?” You smirk.

He smiles up at you, his mouth still trailing kisses on your thigh. “Mhm, and I’ve also discovered that you’re being a very good girl, because you’ve been so eager and compliant… it’s making the evidence collection very easy for me. But you know what I really want to do right now?” He looks up at you, a gleam in his eyes.

“What?”

He moves back up, his mouth hovering just above yours. “I really want to taste you…”

A smirk takes over your mouth as you ask. “And what's stopping you from doing so?”

He laughs, his lips just barely grazing against yours as he speaks. “Nothing. But first I need a little confirmation from you, sweetheart.”

“Confirmed.” You say softly as you nod eagerly.

“Perfect.”

He presses his lips to yours in a deep, hungry kiss. As he kisses you, his hands begin to roam up and down your body, gently exploring every inch of skin.

He gently tugs at the fabric of your shorts without breaking the kiss. “Mmm, this is in the way.”

“Take it off, agent.” you whisper.

He smirks at your eagerness, and then moves back, his hands moving to the hem of your shorts. “I will. But first I have something else I want to do.”

“Something ELSE?” You sigh in frustration “What is it now?”

He laughs lightly at you reaction. “My needy girl is impatient, is she?” He reaches up and pushes his hand into the side of your hair, tugging gently until your head is tilted back. “I just want to ask you one more question, sweetheart.”

“What?”

He leans in, his mouth by your ear. “Do you know why I want to taste you so badly?”

“Why, sir?” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

“Because you look so delicious right now.”  You smirk at the complement.

He moves back, his gaze raking over your body. “With your arms restricted and your little short barely covering your thighs… it’s too tempting. I need a taste.”

“Have it, please.” You’re begging now.

He grins, clearly amused by how desperate you are. “Mmm, since you asked so nicely, I think I will.” He moves down, his mouth going to your thighs, slowly kissing and running his tongue along your skin.

His mouth travels higher and higher, until he finally reaches the edge of your shorts. He looks up at you, a glint in his eyes. “These are a bit of a blockade, aren’t they?”

You nod and say “I hate those.”

He smiles, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your shorts and your panties as well. “Then I’ll just have to take care of that problem…” He starts to tug at your shorts and panties, slowly sliding both of them down your legs. “There we go…”He pulls them off, dropping them to the ground beside the bed. He looks down at you, a look of pure hunger in his eyes. “Mmm, now I have complete access… and I’m going to enjoy taking my time with you.”

He lowers himself back down, his mouth continuing its journey along your body. His lips and tongue trail up your legs, then along your inner thighs until finally, they’re where you want them most. He pauses for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. “You taste so sweet… just like I knew you would.” You moan at the praise.

He smiles, clearly enjoying the noise you’re making. “I like that sound.”

He starts to move again, his tongue flickering against your flesh as he explores it. “So needy and desperate… my little sweet treat…” You can feel his nose on your clit while his tongue is exploring your pussy. He moans softly, enjoying the feeling of your body trembling underneath him, the vibration of the moan stimulating you even more. “You’re being so good for me, sweetheart.”

He continues to use his mouth to devour you as if he can’t get enough of you. “I’m going to drive you insane.” He says, but he’s already driving you fucking crazy, he always does, no one eats pussy like Spencer Reid.

“You already are.” you say through heavy breaths, your whole body trembling. He laughs lightly. “But I’m not done yet.” He looks up at you, his eyes holding yours as his tongue continues to work. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied… and right now, I am far from satisfied.”

The look on his eyes combined with his pussy eating abilities make your whole body tenses up and then, a few seconds later, it relaxes in an orgasm as you scream. He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “There it is.” He says moving back up your body, his mouth now on your neck. “I love making you scream.”

“Fuck, Spencer.” you say, trying to catch your breath again. He laughs against your skin. “I love hearing you swear.” He presses his body against yours, his mouth by your ear. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

“Thankfully, cause I'm not either.” You say, already ready for more of him.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm. “I knew you’d want more.” He rolls over onto his back, pulling you up on top of him so that you’re now straddling his hips. “I’m not going to release your hands just yet.” He looks up at you, his hands going to your hips. “But you look so pretty like this… all tied up on top of me…”

You smirk, his compliments still making you blush, even after being married for so long, maybe that’s true love. He smiles, he knows and loves the fact that you’re still so affected by his words. “And it gives me so many possibilities.” He looks up at you, a glint in his eyes. “For example, I could just pin you down and do whatever I want to you right now…”

“… but instead I’m going to let you do the work.”

He loosens his grip on your hips slightly, giving you the freedom to move. “How does that sound to you, sweetheart?”

You nod “I like it, agent.”

“Good girl.” He smiles, his hands roaming up and down your sides. “Now I want you to start riding my thigh, sweetheart.” You start moving your hips back and forth, creating friction between his pants and your clit. He moans softly, his hands still on your hips. “There you go, princess. Just like that… nice and slow. You look so pretty like this.” He has always liked the sensation of you pleasuring yourself on him. He moans softly, the opposite of your own loud moans, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter. “You’re so needy and desperate… it’s driving me wild.”

“Can you please fuck me?” you finally ask.

He grins at your forwardness, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “You want me to, sweetheart?”

You pause your movements and nod. “Yes, agent.”

“Then you’re going to have to beg for it.” You’d get on your fucking knees and beg if you had to. “Please, agent Reid, you said you'd reward me if you found I've been a good girl, and I have, you didn't find any evidence of bad behavior.”

He laughs lightly at your pleading as if he hadn’t asked for it. “I did say that, didn't I?” He moves his hands up to your sides, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “And you’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.”

He smiles, his hands roaming up and down your body. “Then I suppose you should have your reward, shouldn’t you?”

“Please.”

He moves his hands down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up and down your skin. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to give you what you want. But first I need you to get off me and lie back down on the bed. Hands above your head, just how I like it.”

You smirk and do as he told you to. He grins, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re obeying him. “Good girl. You’re just being so obedient for me, and that’s how I like you… so obedient and pliable. Doing whatever I tell you to, no questions asked.”

He moves up, now hovering over you. “Now, I want you to keep your hands above your head. Don’t moving them at all, understood, sweetheart?”

“Yes, agent.”

“Good girl.”

He starts to kiss and bite your skin, his mouth moving down to your collarbone. His hands roam up and down your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat across your skin. He moves back up to your mouth, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. His mouth devours yours, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

He looks down at you, his eyes practically eating your body. “You look so pretty like this… all tied up and desperate… so obedient… and all for me…” He leans down, his mouth attacking your neck. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”

He pulls back from the kiss, his eyes roaming down your body. His hands move to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. He looks up at you as he takes off  his blazer and throws it on the floor then takes off his tie and opens his shirt, revealing his body.

When he already threw all off it on the floor, he leans in, his mouth attacking your neck once more, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your skin. His hands roam down your body, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He gets up and looks down at you, taking in the sight of you in nothing as he unzips his pants, pushes them down and tosses them to the side, leaving him in his boxer briefs. “Mmm, now we’re more equal, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

You chuckle “Almost”

He smirks, his eyes roaming over your body. “Almost.” He agrees as he pulls his boxers off revealing his big dick and then crawls over you, his body covering yours. He looks down at you, a smile spreading across his face. “Now there’s no barriers between us.”

“Like it should be” you whisper.

He smiles pleased by your answer. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck, his lips trailing kisses along your skin. He then places his dripping tip on your entrance and looks you in the eye as he slides it in. He’s watching your reaction as he pushes in, his hands gripping your thighs, his eyes locked on your face the whole time. “You feel so good” he says and you both moan when he’s fully inside you.

He looks down at you, his face full of need. “You feel so good around me, sweetheart. So tight and so eager….”

He moans softly, his grip on your thighs tightening. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that…” he says when you moan his name into his ear.

You put your legs up his shoulders, making him hit the spot that makes you both go crazy. He hisses as he hits it, his head rolling back. “Fuuuck, you’re going to make me lose control.“ You’re nearly crying outta pleasure and it's getting hard to keep your hands up.

“I can tell you’re getting tense… you’re not going to be able to hold out for much longer, are you?” You shake your head and say “No.” He knows you and your body so well, that’s the result of nearly 10 years of marriage.

He grins, loving the power he has over you in this moment. "But I'm not done with you yet sweetheart."

Your breath becomes heavier and faster as you’re reaching the second orgasm of the night “I’m getting close.” you manage to say through moans and heavy breaths.

He keeps the pace steady. "I want you to let yourself go. I want you to give into the feeling." his words were all you needed to allow the orgasm to take over your body.

He feels you tighten around him as you orgasm and he whispers in your ear "That's it… good girl.”

He keeps moving, his movements more urgent, more desperate now as he’s trying to reach his own orgasm. He can tell he’s getting close, the feeling starting to overwhelm him, his muscles tensing. “Sweetheart… I can’t hold back any longer…”

“Cum inside me.” You ask, but he always did, you were on the pill anyways, but saying it felt so hot.

He starts moving faster, driven by your words of encouragement. His breath quick as his hands slide down your body leaving his fingerprints all over your skin. He’s getting close, you can tell. His body is tense, his eyes locked on yours. He shudders with pleasure as he reaches his orgasm, his eyes locked on yours, his breath ragged and labored. “That was incredible.” He says as he collapses on top of you, his body trembling with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath before agreeing. “Yes, it was.”

He buries his face in your neck, still trying to catch his breath. “Sweetheart, you were amazing. You are amazing. Always”

You smile at the praise and say your favorite words. “I love you, Spencer.”

He smiles back as he replies “I love you, Y/N.” he pauses before saying. “Now I need to get those handcuffs’ keys, we don’t want you restrained forever”

You chuckle, “Oh, you better know where they are.”

[tickle-minion]

Tied and Tickled Boyfriend

This is an old story that Tumblr took down. Beefed it up, added a lot of armpit tickling, and here we go. It's mostly SFW, no sex stuff happens. Just a mostly naked boy.

-----

"Damn, you look pretty sexy tied down like that."

Greg took a minute to appreciate the sight of his boyfriend Sean tied up, spread eagle, on their bed. Every inch of his body, save what was under his underwear, was exposed and vulnerable.

"Alright, so I'm tied up. What happens next?  What are you going to do?" Sean asked, his voice a mixture of apprehension, excitement, and sex.

"Well... what if I told you that there was something I was into that I never told you about?" Greg asked, running a hand up and down Sean's bare leg.

Sean grinned and playfully pulled on the ropes tied around his wrists.

"Oh? Some new kink? Should I be worried?" Sean said with a wink.

"Oh, I don't know..." Greg said, his hand now going up Sean's leg to his thigh, "it depends on how ticklish you are."

Without a word of warning, Greg began skittering his fingertips up and down the inside of  Sean’s exposed thigh. He went right up to Sean's underwear, but for now he didn't go any further than that.

The reaction from Sean was explosive. His entire body tensed up and he started to laugh. He pulled on the ropes.

"No fucking fare! I hate being tickled! This isn't really a thing for you, right? You're just fucking with me?"

"Oh no, this is a huge thing for me. Ever since we first hooked up, I've wanted to tie you down and tickle you till you break. Damn, you don't know how good you look tied down and ready for a tickling."

"Look... you could just fuck me or something, maybe I can suck you off while tied down? Anything but tickling, common dude!"

Greg laughed and walked his fingers up Sean's leg to his exposed belly. With each 'step' Sean twitched and shook.

"No dice, cutie. I mean, I'd love to fuck you later, but why not wait till after we've had a little bit of fun. Think of it as your reward for being such a good tickle boy!"

Greg brought both of his hands up and started tickling Sean's stomach. Those fingers danced across the soft hairless skin, except for one that kept working its way in and out of Sean's belly button. Sean, for his part, started fighting on the bond again. He threw his head back and laughed, trying his hardest to squirm his body away from the assaulting fingers.

"S-S-STOP! P-L-LEASE!"

"No dice, Sean. You have no idea how hot this is. Hmmm... I wonder how ticklish those pits are..."

“NOOO!”

Greg straddled Sean’s hips and started rubbing his hands up and down Sean’s sides.  He would go down to the end of the ribs, and back up till his palms were in Sean’s pits.  Sean wiggled and squirmed.  It didn’t exactly tickle, but it didn’t exactly not-tickle either.

“Man, I just love how exposed you are.  I could do anything to you right now.  You’re my tickle toy.”

“Oh fuck off…”

Greg grinned.

“Maybe later, but for now let’s see how you react to this…”

Greg didn’t give Sean much of a chance to warm up.  Instead of going slow, he just attacked both armpits at the same time.  He dug his fingers into the exposed flesh, wiggling them in, kneading the sensitive skin.  Sean, unprepared for the assault, immediately began thrashing and laughing.

“F-F-UCK YOU!  ST-O-O-O-PPP!”

“What’s that?  You love it?  You want me to keep going?  Don’t mind if I do!”

Greg attacked the armpits for several minutes, all the while Sean was whipping his head back and forth, trying desperately to free his wrists from the rope.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to try, let’s see how you handle this.”

Greg stopped for a moment, and Sean’s entire body went limp.  Huffing and puffing, the tied up boy closed his eyes.  

“This is seriously fucked up Greg…”

Suddenly he felt the strangest sensation.  It was the feeling of something warm and wet in his right armpit.  Instantly he started giggling.

“The hell?!”

Opening his eyes, Sean turned his head to see Greg’s face in his armpit, tongue licking and tasting.  It didn’t tickle as much as the fingers, but it was almost worse.  The feeling was like he was on the edge of something, and he couldn’t tell if he wanted it to get more intense, or stop entirely.

“You’re… hee hee… licking my arm-arm-armpit!?”

“Yeah,” Greg said, “never done it before.  I love the way you’re giggling.”

Greg slithered his tongue around the exposed pit, alternating between using the tip of his tongue to draw patterns and using his whole tongue for broad licks, coating the pit with saliva.

“Time to show the other one some love, too”

Greg switched armpits, licking the left.  His right hand, though, went back into the armpit he’d just been licking.  Slicked as it was with spit, his fingertips slid around with no resistance.  

“FUCK!  NO!  TH-THIS IS N-N-NUTS!”

“Admit it… you fucking love it.”

Greg pressed his face into the pit as he licked, nipping gently now and then.  His other hand continued to tickle the other aggressively.  Sean’s brain was unable to process the sensory overload, so all he could do was laugh, cry, and scream.

Greg tickled Sean for 15 minutes, alternating armpits now and then, enjoying the feeling of Sean bucking and struggling under him.  

“Alright, break time.”

Standing up, Greg stopped tickling and rubbed a hand down Sean’s sweaty chest.

“Fuck… are we done?  Untie me, mother fucker.  I can’t believe you like this shit.”

“Are we done?  Oh no, not at all.  I’m just giving you a minute to breathe.  One minute to be exact.  Starting… now.”

Sean’s eyes went wide as he watched Greg set a timer on his phone.

“No!  This has been enough!  Untie me!  If you’re not going to untie me, at least give me more time!”

“Nope, no more time.  Enjoy this while it lasts!”

Sean cursed and struggled while Greg simply watched the timer countdown.  Sean only stopped fighting when the alarm went off.  He looked up at Greg with wide eyes.

“Please… have mercy…”

Greg smiled and wiggled his fingers.

“Mercy?  Naw, I told you.  I want to fucking break you.  You’ll love it in the end.  Let’s go!”

Starting up at Sean’s neck, tickling fingers moved down Sean's body, exploring each and every single ticklish spot. Nipples, ribs, hips, every part of Sean’s body not covered by his underwear.  Greg managed to find several places that made Sean howl with laughter and jump on the bed. Each time he found one, like the sides of Sean's hips, Greg would stay put and attack them with skilled tickling fingers.

Those hands eventually made it down to the kicking feet.

"No please, stop! Don't tickle my feet! I'll do anything you want, anything!" Sean was out of breath, sweat already dripping from his body.

His pleas went unheard as those tickling fingers attacked the arches of Sean's feet. The tied boy started to howl with laughter, feet kicking back and forth as they tried to escape the ticklish torment.

Greg found a spot on Sean’s right foot, right where the arch met the heel, that drove Sean insane.  He attacked it with vigor, scratching with his nails and pressing his fingers into it like he was pressing a button.  Sean’s feet were ticklish all over, but this spot was absolutely killing him.

"Damn they really are ticklish. I wonder how they taste?"

Greg leaned forward, took one of the kicking ankles firmly in hand, and started flossing his tongue between Sean's toes.

"Mmm... tastes kind of salty..." Greg said.

Sean tried to pull his foot away but Greg was stronger. The feeling of the slimy tongue worming between his toes was insanely ticklish, but there was also something hot about it. His cock started to get hard in his underwear.

Greg finally noticed and pulled his face away from the squirming foot.

"Well well well, looks like someone is finally enjoying this! I need to tongue these toes more often I think.  Let me just go get a few brushes and feathers and I'll be right back!"

Greg left the room to collect his toys, leaving Sean a few moments to relax his sweaty body.

"Fuck... this is going to kill me..."

[echo-circuit]

Gladiator Orion AU drabble!

Ratchet is soundwaves adopted sire and drift his carrier in this AU!

Ratchet trudged into the living quarters he shared with his foundling, Soundwave, weariness seeping into his servos. The long day on the Senate floor followed by a short night shift in Dead End had drained every ounce of energy from him. The faint, unmistakable hum of conversation and the roar of a muffled crowd blared through the walls, immediately setting his optics to narrow.

He stormed into the common area, ready to reprimand Soundwave for staying up late. Instead, he stopped in his tracks, aghast.

There was Soundwave, sprawled on the couch with his usually stiff demeanor replaced by a relaxed, loose posture. Beside him sat Megatron, all polished armor and navy blue accents, a stark contrast to his current behavior, desperately throwing his servos around. His plating reflected the dull glow of the holo-screen in the room, where Shockwave—a gladiator mech from kaon who's color scheme was white, blue, and green—was delivering a brutal uppercut to an unfortunate opponent in the pits.

"Hello~, senator!” Megatron’s youthful face was flushed with energon as he mimicked Shockwave’s fighting stance. He chuckled loudly, taking another gulp of high-grade from a tall energon cube. The innocent optimism of the young mech Ratchet was familiar with was replaced by something a little too loose and inebriated for his comfort.

“WHAT in the name of Primus is going on here?!” Ratchet bellowed, his optics blazing. His audials caught the faint clink of empty high-grade cubes falling to the floor.

Soundwave, in his usual monotone voice despite the obvious buzz in his system, leaned forward and lazily declared, “Statement: Frag.”

Ratchet’s jaw slackened. “Frag?! Frag?! That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself? Drinking high-grade, watching pit fights, and getting trashed the night before Megatron’s first day as head archivist?!”

Megatron, still slouched on the couch but attempting to sit upright, gave Ratchet a sheepish smile. “I assure you, Senator Ratchet, I’ll be ready for my new role. This—uh—team-building exercise was merely to build camaraderie!” He gestured vaguely to Soundwave, who seemed less invested in defending their actions and more invested in finishing the high-grade.

“Camaraderie?! You’re plastered, you oversized protoform!” Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nasal ridge. “Primus give me strength—both of you, sober up. Right now! Megatron, Alpha Trion is going to have my helm if you show up to your promotion ceremony slurring your words!”

Soundwave tilted his helm, the faintest hint of humor flickering through his otherwise blank purple optics. “Observation: Megatron is lightweight.”

“I am NOT!” Megatron protested indignantly, puffing his chest plates out before promptly swaying and grabbing the arm of the couch for balance.

Ratchet threw his servos in the air. “That’s it. I’m rethinking all my life decisions. Both of you, offline this nonsense, clean up this mess, and for the love of Primus, stop watching Shockwave bash other gladiators’ heads in! He’s not a role model!”

Soundwave and Megatron exchanged amused glances before reluctantly shutting off the screen, leaving the room in silence save for Ratchet’s grumbles as he stomped out.

As soon as he was gone, Megatron smirked. “So, uh, Soundwave... one more round?”

“Statement: Bad idea.” Soundwave paused, then added, “But acceptable

Link to it on ao3

[petalsandantlers]

Hello. Love your works. Thought I propose an adorable neat au idea; childhood friends(to lovers, in future;))jily(instead of ‘The Prince’s Tale’).

Prompt: The New Boy in the Neighborhood.

"I'm Lily. Lily Evans, I live around here. What's your name?"

"I'm James. James Potter. Just moved here"

"Yeah, I saw your truck drive up. Just wondering, what's Godric's Hollow?"

Hi! Thank you so much for the prompt. It's a bit of a long one, hope you enjoy xx ---------------------------

boy next door

The summer was winding down, the golden light of late afternoon soft and inviting as Lily kicked her legs back and forth from the swing in her backyard. Her hands gripped the rough, weathered chains, her feet barely skimming the grass as she swayed in the breeze. She was perfectly content, humming quietly to herself, when the sound of a truck engine interrupted her thoughts.

Lily turned her head just in time to see a large, dusty truck rattle down the street, its tires kicking up a cloud of dust as it pulled into the driveway of the house next door. The house had been empty for months now, and Lily, curious by nature, had wondered who might move in.

A few minutes later, the truck doors slammed shut, and she spotted the new neighbor—a boy, probably around her age, with messy dark hair and glasses, carrying a box labeled “breakables” in oversized handwriting.

She hopped off the swing, brushing dirt from her shorts as she made her way to the fence between their yards.

“Hi!” she called, leaning her arms casually on the wooden slats. “I’m Lily. Lily Evans. I live around here.” She offered a friendly smile, hoping he didn’t mind her curiosity.

The boy turned, blinking as if he hadn’t expected anyone to be around. He tilted his head a little, as though considering whether or not to engage, before breaking into a grin.

“Hey,” he replied, setting down the box and wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m James. James Potter. Just moved here.” He waved his hand toward the house behind him as if presenting it, and then added, “We’ve got a bit of unpacking to do.”

Lily nodded. “Yeah, I saw your truck drive up. Just wondering, what's Godric's Hollow? Is that where you're from?” She’d heard the name before—her parents had spoken of it occasionally—but never really knew what it was.

James raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “It’s, uh… well, it’s a bit of a place for people like me.”

Lily frowned, unsure of what he meant, but before she could ask more, he suddenly grinned even wider.

“Actually, it’s a long story. I could tell you later, if you want. I’m sure I’ll see you around, right?”

Lily hesitated. There was something about James that was… different, in a way that didn’t quite make sense. But her curiosity was piqued, and she found herself nodding.

“Sure. Later,” she agreed, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be around.”

With that, she turned to head back toward her house, but glanced over her shoulder to catch one last look at the new boy, James, as he bent down to pick up another box. His gaze met hers for a brief moment, and there was something in his eyes—a spark, something that made Lily feel like maybe, just maybe, this boy might change everything.

====================================

magic

It was the summer before their first year at Hogwarts when it happened—Lily didn’t mean to do it. She never meant for anything to happen at all, really.

She and James were sitting in the garden, the two of them trying their best to take advantage of the warm weather before school started. Lily had her knees drawn up to her chest, her head resting against the back of the bench. James was sprawled on the grass, legs splayed out in every direction, his eyes squinted against the sun.

“I’m telling you, Lily,” he said, grinning lazily as he twirled a stick in his fingers. “You’ve got to at least try flying on a broom. You’d be amazing. Like, it’s in your blood or something.” He said it so nonchalantly, but it was clear he meant it. He was forever convinced she had some hidden talent.

Lily rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve been saying that for ages. I’m not exactly the sporty type, James.”

“Oh, please, I’ve seen how fast you can run. You’re just stubborn.”

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but the sudden movement of the swing she was sitting on caught her attention. It creaked, rocking back and forth as if someone had just pushed it, though she was the only one there.

“What’s with that?” she murmured, narrowing her eyes at the swing.

James glanced over. “What?”

Before Lily could explain, the swing lurched harder, swaying violently with no one near it. Her heart skipped, and she instinctively stood, stepping away from it. Something was… wrong. The motion wasn’t right.

And then, without thinking, she reached out. Her hands instinctively raised, and the swing jerked to a halt mid-air, its chains still swaying slightly.

James stared, his jaw dropping in disbelief. The silence stretched for a moment before he stood, walking cautiously toward her.

“What the… what did you just do?” His voice was soft, like he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it. His eyes flicked to the swing and back to her, a question building on his face.

Lily’s heart was racing now. “I… I don’t know. That wasn’t me.”

“No, no, I’m pretty sure it was,” James said, his voice almost teasing but there was something else in his eyes now—a flicker of realization. “What was that, Evans?”

She swallowed, not sure what to say. It had been an accident—she’d just reached for the swing and it had obeyed.

“I don’t know how I did that,” Lily admitted quietly, shaking her head. “I don’t… I’m not even sure what happened.”

James crouched down in front of her, his face earnest. “Lily,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “That was magic.” He said it like it wasn’t a question, like it was just a simple truth. “You’re a witch.”

Lily froze, her heart pounding harder than before. A witch? She couldn’t be.

“I… no. I… that’s ridiculous,” she stammered, but her voice lacked conviction. The air felt charged, something she couldn’t deny.

James smiled, a mischievous grin that made her feel like she was missing something huge. “Told you you’d be great at it. We’ll sort all of this out later. I promise.”

Lily swallowed, uncertain but intrigued by the strange, sudden sense of rightness in his words.

“I’m a witch?” she repeated, almost as if testing the words. She met his eyes, and there was something in them—something so sincere that she couldn’t help but believe him.

“Yeah, Lily,” James said with a grin, standing up and offering her a hand. “And you’re not the only one. Welcome to the club.”

====================================

first year

Lily stood at the edge of the platform, staring at the huge, black train before her. The steam billowed out in clouds, and the chatter of other students blended with the sound of hammers against the wheels as they prepared to leave for Hogwarts.

“Excited?” James asked, appearing beside her with an easy grin on his face.

Lily rolled her eyes. “I think you’re the only one who’s more excited than I am.”

James chuckled. “That’s ‘cause I’m finally going to be where I belong. Can’t wait to try flying lessons.”

“I’m sure you’ll be top of the class,” Lily teased, though she felt the same excitement bubbling up inside her.

Her parents had finally accepted that their daughter was not just “normal.” She had magical abilities, and now, she was about to leave her Muggle world behind and step into a world that felt like it had been made just for her.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before Lily spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “Are you nervous?”

“Me? Nah. What about you?”

Lily’s hand unconsciously fiddled with her robes. “I guess… a little. What if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t fit in?”

“You will,” James said, and his voice was so full of confidence that it made her feel better, even if she didn’t entirely believe him.

“We’ll stick together, right?” Lily asked, her voice soft but firm. “We’ll help each other.”

James smiled brightly. “Of course.”

====================================

second year

Lily was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the common room, flipping through a Charms textbook when James and Sirius barged in, laughing and talking over each other.

“I swear, James, if you ever try to drag me into another prank that involves feathers, I’m going to hex you,” Sirius grumbled.

James just laughed louder, ignoring him. He spotted Lily and beamed. “Lily! You coming with us to the Quidditch pitch later? We need your expert opinion on our new strategy.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me for advice?”

James leaned against the arm of the chair next to her, lowering his voice just enough so only she could hear. “Well, we could use a little bit of your genius, you know, to balance out all the idiocy.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, James,” Lily replied with a smirk.

“Wanna bet?” James said, his face inches from hers. “Because I’m sure if you come with us, we could make your day a lot more fun.”

Lily laughed, pushing him away playfully. “You're a menace.”

Sirius grinned from the door. “You can’t resist him, can you, Evans?”

“Don’t flatter him, Sirius,” she shot back, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

====================================

third year

Lily was walking to the library when she saw James and Sirius laughing loudly in the corridor. Something about their behavior—something in the way they carried themselves—made her stomach turn.

“Lily!” James called, waving. “You coming to watch the practice later? We’re going to try something new with the Bludgers. It’s gonna be wild.”

Lily stopped in her tracks. “No, actually,” she replied coolly, “I think I’ll hang out with Marlene.”

James blinked, not expecting the response. “Right... okay. You’re busy again ?” he said, a bit of an edge creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, James. I have a life, you know,” Lily snapped, though the words stung her as much as they did him.

“Well, I guess I can’t fit into that now, can I?” he shot back, his tone sharper now.

Lily saw the hurt in his eyes before it was masked with a smirk. “See you around, Evans.”

As he turned away, a bitter realization settled in her chest: this wasn’t just a simple argument. They were moving apart.

====================================

fourth year

The Gryffindor common room was bustling with chatter as the Marauders boasted about their latest stunt. Lily sat with Marlene at the table, pretending not to notice the chaos around her.

“I don’t get it,” Marlene whispered, leaning in. “Why are you still hanging around with them? You don’t need them, you know?”

Lily didn’t answer at first. But then, she saw James. He was sitting with Sirius, joking around, and for the first time, he didn’t look like the James she knew. He looked... different.

“I don’t know,” Lily muttered. “It’s just—everything’s different now.”

At that exact moment, James caught her eye and grinned, but Lily couldn’t return the smile. Instead, she dropped her gaze and focused on her homework.

When the laughter around them grew louder, she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up abruptly and walked out of the common room.

James followed her a few steps later, his face furrowed. “Lily! What’s going on with you?”

Lily spun around to face him, eyes flashing. “What’s going on with you , James? You and Sirius have turned into—into—” She couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

James’s face hardened, his anger bubbling to the surface. “And I don’t know who you are either. You’ve changed too, you know. Too good for us now?”

Lily’s heart pounded. “I’m not too good , I’m just... I don’t know how to deal with all this anymore.”

“I don’t need you telling me how to live my life,” James spat, his voice raw with frustration. “Maybe I’ve changed because I’m sick of trying to keep everyone happy!”

The words hit harder than she expected. “Maybe you don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

James’s eyes burned with anger, and for a split second, she thought he might say something that would tear them apart completely.

“Fine,” he said, his voice quiet, but it sliced through her like a knife. “Maybe we should just stop pretending.”

Lily stood there, her heart pounding in her chest as he turned and walked away, leaving her with the bitter taste of regret.

====================================

fifth year

It was after dinner, the common room empty. Lily was sitting by the fireplace when James stormed in, his face tight with frustration.

“Lily,” he snapped, his voice tense, “we need to talk.”

Lily barely looked up. “About what? Another prank? Another way to ruin someone’s life for a laugh?”

“Don’t start with me,” James said, his hands clenched into fists. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding me for weeks, and you can’t even give me the decency of a bloody conversation!”

Lily stood up, her eyes blazing. “Decency? What decency, James? You and Sirius act like you’re the center of the sodding universe. You don’t care about anyone else—least of all me.”

James’s face darkened, his patience slipping away. “That’s rich coming from you, Lily. You’ve been hanging around with everyone but me all year, like I don’t exist. You’ve got your friends, and I’ve got mine. Maybe it’s better that way.”

Lily’s breath caught in her throat. “Is that what you think? That I’m too good for you now? That I’ve outgrown you?”

James took a step forward, fury in his eyes. “Maybe you have!”

The words stung, worse than any of their previous fights.

“I haven’t outgrown you, James!” she cried, her voice breaking. “But maybe I’ve had enough of you and your bloody games ! All you care about is yourself. You think you’re the only one who matters, but you’re not.”

James stepped forward, his voice low. “Don’t tell me what I care about, Lily. You don’t know anything about me.”

Lily’s pulse quickened, the adrenaline of the fight settling into her bones. “Exactly James. That’s the problem. You’ve changed, and you’re not the person I thought you were anymore.”

They stood there, inches apart, each breathing heavily. It was a moment of complete silence before Lily spun on her heel and stormed out, leaving James standing there, stunned.

====================================

sixth year

The corridors were quieter tonight, with the end of another long week dragging on. Lily had been trying to find some peace after another difficult week. She’d managed to avoid James for the most part, but the energy between them had been different since their argument in the fifth year—strained, but something else simmered.

As Lily walked past the staircase, she froze.

James was standing in front of her, leaning against the stone wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. His head tilted slightly as their eyes met. For a second, neither of them moved.

Lily was the first to break the silence. “What do you want, Potter?” Her tone was steady, but she could feel her pulse quicken, something she was trying to ignore.

James didn't immediately reply, his gaze never leaving hers. It was as if he was measuring her, like he always had, trying to figure out if she was the same Lily Evans he knew—or if she'd become something else entirely.

“I don’t want anything,” he said quietly, but there was a tension in his words.

Lily gave a small, tight smile, stepping around him as if she were going to walk away. But before she could take another step, James moved, blocking her path. The sudden movement startled her, but she held her ground, glaring up at him.

“Potter, move.” Her voice was a little sharper than she intended, but the space between them felt heavy now.

James didn’t move. His face was a little too close, his eyes dark and serious. “Why are you running from me, Lily?” The question wasn’t playful, wasn’t teasing. It was genuine—laced with something unspoken.

Lily’s chest tightened, but she fought to keep her composure. “I’m not running,” she said, voice clipped. She forced herself to look at anything but him. “We’re just—" She stopped, not sure what to say.

James’ eyes softened slightly, the anger and frustration from their last argument flickering in his expression. “You don’t get to pretend nothing’s changed. You don’t get to act like last year never happened.” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “You’ve been different. I’ve been different. This... thing between us, it’s not just about the war, it’s not just about school anymore.”

Lily felt her heart skip. She’d tried to keep her distance, tried to convince herself that this tension between them was just a product of their last argument, but now she wasn’t so sure. The space between them felt charged in a way she couldn’t deny.

“Maybe it’s not,” she murmured, her eyes flickering up to meet his. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was undeniable, thick and suffocating.

James’ breath caught, and for a moment, it was like everything else in the world stopped. “Then what is it, Lily?” His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper, but still strong with an emotion she couldn’t quite name.

Lily opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She took a step back instead, only to feel the invisible pull of him right in front of her again.

“James, I—” she started, but she couldn’t finish. It was too much, this feeling between them. Too complicated. Too messy. She didn’t know how to make sense of it anymore.

Her breath caught as James took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. He was so close now that she could feel the heat of his body, the rawness in his eyes. His gaze never wavered from hers, but there was something different in the way he looked at her now. Something far more intimate than anything they had shared before.

Lily swallowed hard. “I don’t... I don’t want this,” she said, though the words didn’t sound convincing. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince—him, or herself.

James just stared at her, a quiet challenge in his eyes. “Lily, we’re already in it. Whether we want to be or not.”

And just like that, the space between them crackled. They stood there, the weight of it all pressing down on them—words unspoken, emotions too tangled to unravel.

Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She took another step back, turning her head away. “I have to go,” she said, more to herself than to him. But when she moved to walk away, she felt a lingering glance from James burn into her skin.

As she disappeared into the next corridor, the last words he said echoed in her mind.

We’re already in it.

====================================

seventh year

It had been weeks since the last time Lily had spoken to James properly—really spoken to him. Ever since they’d started revising for their final exams, their interactions had been brief, distant, casual. She’d almost convinced herself it was easier that way. Safer.

But it wasn’t. Not really.

The thing between them had only grown heavier, every glance, every accidental brush of their hands feeling like a spark just waiting for the right moment to catch fire. Tonight, the space between them was thick with it.

Lily had left the library late, her eyes tired from hours of studying. She’d been hoping for an empty corridor to get some peace, but instead, she turned the corner to find James standing there. Again.

This time, he wasn’t leaning casually against the wall, no, he was standing straight, facing her with a look in his eyes that was both familiar and unsettlingly new. There was something about the way he looked at her—something raw and unguarded.

Lily didn’t stop walking, but she didn’t try to avoid him either. She felt herself drawn to him, despite the distance she’d tried to keep.

"Evans," he said softly, his voice a little hoarse, like he’d been holding something back for a long time.

She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known how to talk to him in months. “Potter,” she said, her voice a little more clipped than usual, but it wasn’t from anger. It was from everything in between.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking over her face, as if he was memorizing every detail. “I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s happening between us,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Lily’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck. What was there to say? They both knew what was happening, they both knew what had been building between them, even if they hadn’t acknowledged it fully.

“You don’t have to say anything,” James continued, stepping closer to her, his eyes intense. “I just—"

Before he could finish, Lily moved without thinking. She closed the distance between them in two quick steps, her hands coming up to grab the collar of his robes, pulling him down to her level.

The kiss wasn’t soft or sweet. It was raw—filled with all the things they’d been holding back, all the tension and frustration and unsaid feelings. When their lips finally met, it was like a dam breaking. All the things they’d buried under layers of words, all the things they hadn’t been able to admit, poured out.

Lily's pulse raced as she felt him respond in kind. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, and she didn’t pull away. This was everything they’d ever avoided. It was electric, heated, desperate.

But after a few moments, the urgency began to ease. The kiss softened, not in intensity, but in understanding. It was still full of emotion, but now there was space for something else—something gentler, something like the possibility of what could come next.

When they finally pulled away, neither of them said anything at first. The silence felt heavy, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that came after something that had been a long time coming.

Lily ran a hand through her hair, trying to steady her breathing, but the smile tugging at her lips was impossible to hide. “Well,” she said, her voice still a little breathless, “that was… dramatic.”

James chuckled, the sound rough but warm. “You’ve got a knack for making things dramatic, Lily.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “You’re one to talk, James. You’re the one who pulled me into this mess.”

James smirked, but it was softer now, the teasing edge gone. “Guilty as charged.”

For a moment, they just stood there, their faces inches apart.

“So... this is how it’s going to be now?” Lily asked, a playful glint in her eye.

James raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “You mean, kissing me in hallways?”

She smirked, stepping back, her hand brushing against his. “Yeah. That’s it.”

James grinned. “Well, I could get used to that.”

Lily just shook her head, her grin softening into something warm. “Good. You’d better.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Lily felt like things were finally, finally, starting to fall into place, as James pulled her in again, sparks flying. -------------------------------- read on ao3

[bretzkysbs]

Will Ferrell recently told People magazine that some of his fans were not too thrilled with his decision to revive Buddy the Elf as a grizzled drinker and smoker. The comedian went viral on social media after attending the Dec. 29 hockey game between the Los Angeles Kings and Philadelphia Flyers in his Buddy the Elf costume, only he added a beer in hand and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Some people were not too happy, though,” Ferrell told the magazine. “They thought, ‘Please be true to the character. That was not cool.’ Buddy was having a bad day. Yeah. He just went to a hockey game, smoked cigarettes and drank beer.”

Ferrell’s appearance at the Kings game initially went viral due to FanDuel Sports Network broadcaster Carrlyn Bathe, who reported live from the game and spoke to Buddy. The character told her at the time that “it was a tough holiday season” and “he’s looking for a Kings win.” Social media had a field day with Ferrell’s unexpected revival of one of his most iconic characters. “Elf,” released in 2003, earned over $220 million at the worldwide box office and remains a Christmas classic.

Ferrell appeared on Jason and Travis Kelce’s “New Heights” podcast earlier this month to explain the rationale behind his decision to bring Buddy back in such an unexpected way.

“Buddy the Elf got laid off, I think, from the North Pole,” Ferrell joked. “He’s having a pull from his beer, smoking a cig. … I get these weird ideas every now and then. We’re season ticket holders for the L.A. Kings. We have seats right on the glass. I told my wife, ‘Over the break, it would be funny if I just got a Buddy the Elf costume and didn’t shave for a week, and I’m just sitting there with a candy cigarette and I’m just gonna sit there for a period and see how people react.’”

“The reaction was insane!” Ferrell added. “Like, what is he doing? Is he promoting something? But occasionally I just like to do weird things like that just to stir it up.”

[mac-lilly]

JATP fic ideas that live rent-free in my head

A compilation post to keep track of all the jatp stories that I will never write ...

Stuff I've actually written

Juke:

Juke Kitchen

Alone Together

Strumming the Soul

Beautiful

Heartbeat

Willex:

Hotdog and Cold dog

Cross my heart and hope to die (again)

A night to remember:

Just one more night (Luke)

Tomorrow (Reggie)

Ghostwriter:

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Hamster!Luke

Doodle

Canon-Compliant (kinda)

The inevitabilities of (after)life

(Boys coming back to life but without memories - Juke)

After their performance at The Orpheum, the guys suddenly start seeing a magical light, and they figure it's time to cross over. Before they leave, however, Julie and Luke accidentally seal a magical pact with unfathomable consequences. (And they kiss.) And then the boys are gone.

However, a year later, just after coming to terms with the guys' departure, Julie's world is turned upside-down (again) when a very alive Luke suddenly reenters her life. And it's not just him -- Alex and Reggie are back too. But to Julie's horror and agony, all three have lost their memories. (And not just them. With the exception of Bobby, nobody remembers them.)

And so, Julie has to make a decision: Fight to unseal their memories or let them live their new-found lives without her?

It's an easy choice, really. Plus, she has to make her resurrected Phantoms stay alive. Because there's a series of uncanny and nearly fatal accidents that always involve her boys and, weirdly, Nick.

(There are 1.75 chapters of this on my PC.)

Ghost license

(inspired by the movie "Hui Buh" - no focus on romance)

The boys get tasked to obtain a ghost license for the Molina house. Otherwise, they have to leave the place and become wayward ghosts (and have to return to Caleb.) And thus, the Phantoms are forced to attend a school for ghosts -- exams included.

Random character stuff:

Julie's doodling

Luke's room

AUs

Songwriting Journal of Fate

(A Kimi no Na Wa AU - Juke)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Show me how to be whole again

An arranged marriage/enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-friends-to-lovers Juke AU

Plot

BAM! I'm actually writing this one.

AO3 Link

Image Board

Sweet Home Alabama AU

Yet another enemies-to-friends-to-almost-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends&lovers Juke AU.

Teaser

First & Last Scene

"Life with Derek"-inspired AU

Teaser/Prologue

Rivers of London AU

Julie, a witch in training, and Luke, a ghost

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Phantom Thieves

(A Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne AU (without the religious stuff) - Juke)

Julie makes a deal with Caleb: She helps him collect/steal possessed artifacts, and in exchange, he'll grant her a chance to talk to her mom again.

At first, it goes pretty well. She steals the objects and hands them over to Caleb. But soon, she gets a rival. Another thief shows up, who is way too cheeky and attractive, and he starts snatching those items Julie is supposed to steal from under her nose. Julie is not amused by his attitude, and Caleb tells her that he probably wants to use these magical items for evil.

At the same time, Julie makes acquaintance with three guys who just transferred to her school, and she may or may not develop a crush on one of them. (And Julie can't help but see certain similarities between Luke and her new-found thievish rival ... but surely that's just a coincidence, right?)

Mind the Gap

(A Neverwhere AU - Willex & (minor) Juke)

Alex lives a pretty normal life. Sure, after he came out to his parents, he's become an outcast. But he's willing to put up with this shit anyway. (What are the alternatives?)

Then he encounters Willie, an extremely weird but also handsome guy who tells him that he is being hunted. Confused, Alex helps him hide. The next day, Willie is gone, and suddenly his life seems to vanish. His parents, his peers -- everyone seems to forget that he exists.

Determined to set things right, Alex sets out to find Willie, hoping that he (or the person he's running away from) has the power to give him his life back. He enters the World Below -- the place where all the people who've all fallen through the cracks stand. However, as he keeps gathering a group of unlikely and way too cheerful acquaintances who quickly become his friends (and more), he starts questioning his desire to return to the normal world.

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Growing up in an extremely ultra religious, cult-like family was a mindfuck for multiple reasons but that doesn't stop unfortunately, even when you escape. For example, see: The overwhelming feeling of boiling hatred and shame for who you used to be.

The angry hatred for the past person I used to be, the version of myself that mindlessly parroted my family's beliefs and listened to their every command, constantly simmered under my skin and invaded my every thought. I was embarrassed of what I used to be- even as I made friends of different ethnicities and faiths, as I listened and explored new ideas and worlds that I never knew existed, as I started the first LGBTQ+ club at my school and volunteered with kids who deserved so much more- there was always a little voice in the back of my head.

"They would hate you if they knew what you were. They would hate the horrendous teachings that were seared into your mind, the things that you used to say and believe. You are nothing but a pretender."

And it is true that my beliefs were bigoted in all the worst ways. It is true that I believed truly heart-wrenching things without a second thought and judged others in such harsh and unfair ways. I told myself that there was no coming back from that, not really. There was nothing I could do to ever make up for it.

Then I remembered that the person who said those things wore velcro light up sneakers and collected finger puppets that the librarians handed out as awards for reading picture books. The person that held signs at pro-life rallies and anti-LGBTQ+ protests had a cherished sticker book and hunted minnows in the creek after school and adored their puffle on club penguin and was really into greek mythology and had skinned knees from climbing trees at recess and knew every Disney song by heart and was absolutely terrified of the dark.

That person was a child.

I was a child.

It took a really long time. Years and years of reflection and distance, but I've decided that I can't hate the past version of myself anymore. I feel pity and remorse, I feel anger- I feel so much fury and violent rage- at what my childhood was and I grieve what could- no, should- have been, but I no longer resent who I was.

I'm not ashamed.

I am so, so, so unbelievably proud of that little kid. For being brave enough to leave the comfort and safety of what I was told was right. For not being afraid to be wrong. For seeking out information and knowledge in a culture that praised ignorance. For questioning everything, relentlessly.

I am by no means a perfect person, I never have been and I never will, but I am proud of myself in every iteration that has ever existed because I know that I have never stopped trying to understand and learn and grow, and I never will.

If you have ever been in a similar situation and feel similar things, first of all: My condolences on your lost childhood. Second of all: Please be nice to that past version of yourself and recognize all the hard work they did to make you who you are today. That person was a survivor and an inspiration. They deserve nothing but love.

[ittybittybumblebee]

unspoken dispute to settle

[cuz-reasons]

Summary: After getting badly injured, Ingo isn't sure where he keeps waking up. But there is always someone he doesn't recognize, but knows he loves with him. Emmet is equal parts happy and stressed over Ingo's return home.

I'm finally getting this up before I forget again

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself