#nothing's worse than having perfectly timed all your clips

[diseaseriddencube]

remade my final girl edit the way god intended

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined. 

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.” 

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry. 

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.” 

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform. 

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.  

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you. 

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.” 

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close. 

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped. 

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night. 

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk. 

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you. 

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not. 

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of  Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him. 

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes. 

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?” 

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs. 

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat. 

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.” 

Yes.

“Yes.” 

He doesn’t waste any time. 

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.  

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs. 

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down. 

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes. 

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him. 

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder. 

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders. 

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good. 

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite. 

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away. 

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression. 

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in. 

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it. 

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute. 

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive. 

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference. 

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them. 

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.  

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck. 

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you. 

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds. 

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest. 

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.” 

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole. 

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing. 

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.” 

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table. 

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?” 

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you. 

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady. 

“You’re hot.” 

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

 He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs. 

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself. 

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.” 

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there. 

Then he starts moving. 

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.  

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that. 

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive. 

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars. 

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.” 

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk. 

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you. 

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it. 

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you. 

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.” 

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.” 

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.” 

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

[in1-nutshell]

Can you do one where mtmte bot buddy is perceptor easily scared younger sibling that has a crush on rodimus? Thanks for the help with how to inbox my request.

I've been noticing a trend with request for Rodimus lately. Our Co-Captain is getting some loving hours.

Hope you enjoy!

Perceptor's younger sibling who is scared easily with a crush on Rodimus

SFW, Romantic, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Buddy had always been a jumpy bot.

Whether it be in the heat of the moment or in times of peace, something always had Buddy on edge about something.

“YYEEEP!”--Buddy

“What was it this time?”--Perceptor

“I thought I felt something on my pedes.”--Buddy

“Hmm.”--Perceptor

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me! I’m telling you I felt something on my pede and now its not there!”--Buddy

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Red Alert.”--Perceptor

“Hey leave Red out of this!”—Buddy

“Yeah leave—”—Red Alert

“AHH!”--Buddy

“AHH!”—Red Alert

That being said, Perceptor is protective of his younger sibling.

He loves them, scaredy bot, and all.

He does try and help Buddy in his own ways by trying to rationalize everything, which helps them a bit, but too much.

Is willing to put a bot in their place if they try to make fun of Buddy for their jumpiness.

Primus forbid that someone does scare them with malicious intent.

He wasn’t a Wrecker for nothing.

Buddy had tried going to Ratchet or any other doctor or nurse to see if it was a medical problem.

“I don’t see anything bout of the ordinary here kid.”--Ratchet

“Nothing?”--Buddy

“Perfectly normal frame inside and outside. I think you just get jumpy too often. You can always go see Rung if it gets any worse.”--Ratchet

“Thank—”--Buddy

Whirl barging into the medbay.

“HAS ANYONE SEEN CYCLONUS OR PANIC BUTTON?”--Whirl

“Whirl! Please, you’re—”—Ratchet

THUNK!

Buddy passing out on the med slab with their spark beat going wild.

“Ohhh… Jumpy’s here.”--Whirl

“Yes…”--Ratchet

In the lab.

Perceptor looking up from his work.

“Is your Buddy sense tingling?”--Brianstorm

“Stop calling it that.”--Perceptor

“But it is!”--Brainstorm

“Brainstorm.”--Perceptor

“Perceptor.”--Brainstorm

Brainstorm saw this problem as a challenge and had asked Buddy if they were willing to be tested to see if he could solve the problem.

Buddy had never been raced out of the lab faster than at that moment.

“Brainstorm?”--Buddy

“Yes?”--Brainstorm

“Is this safe?”--Buddy

Buddy sitting on the lab table with several jumper cables clipped into their frame with a series of wires on their helm.

“Oh Buddy! Of course, it is relatively safe, in theory.”--Brainstorm

“In theory?”--Buddy

“Yes. Everything comes from a theory. Now whether this is a good theory is what we are about to answer now!”--Brainstorm

“Does Percy know?”--Buddy

“What he don’t, know wont hurt Buddy. Now let’s flip this—”--Brainstorm

“BRAINSTORM!”--Perceptor

“He sounds mad! What did you do!?”--Buddy

“Nothing!”--Brainstorm

“Brainstorm.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Brainstorm

“…”--Buddy

“… I may have locked him in the closet before I grabbed you from Swerve’s…”--Brainstorm

“…You know, for one of the smartest bots on the ship, you sure can make a dumb decision.”--Buddy

“What--”--Brainstorm

BANG!

Perceptor kicking down the lab doors with his snipper rifle in his servos.

“AAHHHHH!”—Brainstorm and Buddy

No mercy from Percy.

Their friend group had gotten used to Buddy’s jump scares after the first few times.

Sometimes they were the cause of it.

Buddy would always laugh it up in the end.

They would never take it too far so it was all fun and games.

But there was one thing on board that made their spark run faster than the scares.

Rodimus Prime.

The captain was going to be the death of them, they were sure of it.

The two got along great, which wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Buddy liked the reckless captain.

“Has anyone seen Rodimus? He should have been here by now.”--Buddy

“Nope.”--Chromedome

“No.”--Rewind

“Haven’t seen you’re Conjux since this morning.”--Brainstorm

“Conjux?! Brainstorm!”--Buddy

“Don’t lie to me Buddy I’ve seen how you two look at each other. Everyone on the ship practically knows about it.”--Brainstorm

“Oh don’t tease them Brainstorm.”--Chromedome

“thank you—”--Buddy

“Its not their fault that they are both oblivious to each others feelings.”--Rewind

“You too Rewind?”--Buddy

“I’m getting sick and tired of watch you two pine over each other.”--Rewind

“Who’s pining?”--Rodimus

“GAH! Roddy, don’t do that!”--Buddy

“Hahaha! You know you can’t be mad at me.”--Rodimus

“…One of these days I’m going to get a spark attack because of you.”--Buddy

With their friendship the amount of reckless stunts had gone down.

Something Ultra Magnus was grateful for.

Buddy the ever worry wart always tried to talk their captain from doing many reckless activities.

Most times they would work, but that would usually mean that he would try to do another activity that was less of a threat without Buddy looking.

Rodimus trying to get off the ship to go meteor surfing.

“Rodimus!”--Buddy

“Shh! Megs will hear you!”--Rodimus

“And? You are in no condition to go meteor surfing! You just got out of the medbay from last expedition.”--Buddy

“And I’m fine!”--Rodimus

“Please…”--Buddy

“…Fine. But you have to help me with some of the reports.”--Rodimus

“Deal.”--Buddy

“After I go and flip over the captains chair!”--Rodimus

Rodimus jumping and failing to do a flip landing on his faceplate.

“Roddy!”--Buddy

“Hmmm?”--Rodimus

“Hang on I’m bringing you to Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Nooo… I don’t wanna.”--Rodimus

Buddy throwing him over their shoulder like a sack of potatotes.

“Too bad Captain.”--Buddy

Key word try.

Buddy watched him sometimes like a hawk.

The other times that Buddy wouldn’t be able to talk him out of the activity ended up with Buddy joining.

Those time Rodimus would smile that smile of his that could literally light up a room.

“How did I end up here?”--Buddy

“What do you mean?”--Rodimus

“Here!”--Buddy

Buddy latched on a cord dangling from the ceiling by their chassis.

Rodimus on the ground with his arms wide open.

“I must have my circuits fired to even say yes to this!”--Buddy

“Nope, I just asked, and you said ‘yes’.”--Rodimus

“I know!”--Buddy

“Relax Buddy its just a trust fall!”--Rodimus

“Yeah! But I didn’t think it was going to be from this height!”--Buddy

“It’ll be okay! Just let go!”--Rodimus

“Let go?!”--Buddy

“Trust me Buddy! You’ll be all right! Just trust me!”--Rodimus

Buddy saying one more pray to Primus before detaching from the chord, screaming on the way down.

Rodimus catching them nearly falling on the floor too.

“See! I gotcha—Buddy?”--Rodimus

Buddy passing out.

Perceptor knew about Buddy’s little crush on the Captain.

While he would have wish it be on another crew member, he supposed that Rodimus wasn’t the worst of them all.

After talking it over with Drift, Perceptor decided that it would be a good idea to actually talk to Buddy about it.

“Percy?”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Perceptor

“What’s going on? We don’t usually have private talks like these. Wait! Did something bad happen to you?”--Buddy

“No, no, I asked you to meet me here to talk.”--Perceptor

“To… talk?”--Buddy

“Yes.”--Perceptor

“Okay, I’ll bite what did you want to talk to me about?”--Buddy

“Its about Rodimus.”--Perceptor

“What about him? Did some—”--Buddy

“Nothing happened to him…yet.”--Perceptor

“What?”--Buddy

“I noticed you and the Captain have been spending more and more time with each other. And if my theory proves me correst, you like him.”--Perceptor

“Umm… where did you—I mean, me and Roddy—I mean—”--Buddy

“Its okay.”--Perceptor

“What?”--Buddy

“I’m fine with you dating Rodimus.”--Perceptor

“Really! But doesn’t he annoy you? Especcially two days ago when he said ‘science is magic’. You nearly grabbed your riffle and made him into Swiss cheese.”--Buddy

“… Yes. I have taken that into account, but you are mainly going to be spending time with him. He wont be my Conjux, he’ll be yours.”--Perceptor

“Conjux!”--Buddy

“That was a joke.”--Perceptor

“It didn’t sound like it!”--Buddy

“How do you intend on telling him?”--Perceptor

“You’re just filled with questions aren’t you?”--Buddy

“I’m a scientist Buddy.”--Perceptor

“Yeah, but its not that simple Percy.”--Buddy

“How so?”--Perceptor

“I can’t just go up to him and say ‘Hey Roddy, I like you a lot. You want to go out with me? We can go to Swerve’s for our first date. We can drink, dance, and watch movies all night long’.”--Buddy

“What?”--Rodimus

“Don’t sound like that Percy—”--Buddy

“That wasn’t me.”--Perceptor

“Then who—”--Buddy

Rodimus standing in front of the door way.

Buddy’s fans kicking in before passing out.

“How long where you there?”--Perceptor

“Long enough to know Buddy already beat me to the chase and already had a date night planned.”--Rodimus

“…If you ever think or try to hurt them in anyway, I know how to shoot in between your seams and make you go through the worse pain imaginable before any medic comes to help you. Do I make myself clear?”--Perceptor

“Clear. And the thought of hurting them is the last thing I would want to do.”--Rodimus

“Good.”--Perceptor

“Yeah.”--Rodimus

“…”--Perceptor

“…”--Rodimus

“We should probably get Buddy to Ratchet.”--Rodimus

“Agreed.”--Perceptor

[ofallthingsnasty]

pairing: sanji x f!reader tags: crack treated seriously, sanji being sanji, dental student!reader but written from sanji's pov so no medical knowledge needed, fat reader (especially in the belly and tits), suggestive, minors dni, law starring as the resident cockblock word count: 1.8k note: weeks ago I talked about how I parked my tits on the forehead of my patient while doing my first frontal filling years back and immediately got the worst possible idea for a little fic. dedicated to that very same young man. I'm still so sorry dude you were a real one 😶

Sanji feels like his pants are going to explode any moment now. When he got up this morning, he hadn’t expected to have the fingers of a woman down his throat - feeling, massaging and palpating. Admittedly, you’re a little rough with him because you’re untrained but that slight tickle of his gag reflex your fingers evoke is hotter than he thought it could be. He has half a mind not to chase them with his tongue, not wanting to scare you off.

Of course, your intentions are innocent. You’re trying to see something that is entirely beyond his scope but hey, he isn’t the professional here. (Or on the road to be a professional, considering that you’re still a student.) The last time he went to the dentist it had certainly been different - curt, clinical and without much frou-frou - but whatever it is they’re teaching the students nowadays, he finds himself very much agreeing to it. Maybe a bit too much, he thinks and tries to fight the half-chub with thoughts of his old man. 

It’s hard, pun intended. You are a dream in starched white directly in front of him, round face scrunched up in concentration. Clearly, you’re taking your task very seriously but that doesn’t help him much with staying composed when you’re clumsily whipping his head around by his teeth, the touch demanding and a little careless. You don’t seem to be the bossy type but there is something about sitting beneath a beam of cold, white light while getting thoroughly inspected by a soft-cheeked, lovely woman that makes his face traitorously warm. “Alright”, you say and pull your fingers out of his mouth, white nitrile shiny with his spit, your skin peeking through the stretched material.

He briefly wonders how they’d feel wrapped around his-

Shit.

“Mucosa looks healthy, gingiva is inflamed, though”, you say to your assisting student, as you turn away from him again - some skinny dude with a severe expression and a goatee. “Can you write that down?”

The guy just nods behind a paper file and Sanji can see it shake with the pressure of a pen against printed-on lines. There is a name tag clipped to his chest but Sanji is ignoring it on purpose. He doesn’t like him at all - he had given the blond nothing but filthy looks after Sanji had offered you his first name upon introduction, and even interrupted him when he was only trying to make (perfectly harmless) small talk. Something about time being of essence but Sanji is just not buying that.

Asshole.

They had battled it out via eye contact when Sanji had to gurgle that god-awful mouthwash for a solid minute and the only thing he won in those sixty seconds was the knowledge that Goatee has terrible manners.

Just his luck, he figures. The one chance he has to be meticulously pampered by a pair of cute dental students has to be ruined by some pierced killjoy. This situation could only have been worse if (by some miracle) Zoro turned out to be your assistance. But fortunately that man knows as much about teeth as he does about navigation: fuck all.

It had been Nami who had recommended the student program to him when he noticed a pesky, dark spot right between his incisors - and while she was intent on saving him money, he was more taken by the thought of being put into the care of aspiring dentists like you. Sanji had been sold. And he had been even more thrilled when he got that first call from you, your voice promising nothing but prowess, delicate hands in his mouth and a sweet face to stare at. (Okay, maybe your hands aren't so delicate after all - but one smile from behind your mask and all is forgiven.)

Too bad your sweet glory comes with a lanky, pierced guard dog. 

“Have you had any injections in the past?”, you ask and pull him out of his reverie, a syringe already in your dominant hand. “Ever had any troubles with them?”

He shakes his head no and tries to keep his breathing even when you duck down to him, hunched over as you push his upper lip towards his nose in one swift notion. “This is gonna sting a little. And you might feel a little pressure.” Indeed, it does - but it’s so miniscule that he can barely call it a pinch. Your concern for him is incredibly cute, though. Your hand is a little shaky as you press the liquid out of the needle but aside from the feeling of liquid pooling underneath sturdy skin, he feels nothing. He watches as you furrow your brow and let out a sigh of relief when the syringe is empty. You’re clearly nervous and he wants it to be because of him so, so badly but unfortunately, he knows better.

“It’ll be over soon, you’re doing so well”, you say after putting the needle away and take his upper lip between your index finger and thumb and slot the digit right into the fold that his mucosa forms, gently pulling and rubbing at the same time. “Just a little longer, can you do that for me?” Oh, he’d do much more than this for you, he thinks but the only thing that comes out of him is a weak gurgle.

Goatee scoffs next to him. 

“I think you didn't inject enough. You might want to re-apply some.”

“No, I gave him almost two milliliters, that should be enough”, you say and he can tell you’re pouting underneath the mask. Sanji swears the other man grins for a split second. “Bummer.”

“Alright, we’ll just do some prep while the anesthetic kicks in, okay?”, you ask and don’t even wait for an answer. He watches you while you flit around the tiny space, gathering things on the little tray that hovers above him, nods and smiles when you do your best to apply a clunky dental dam and lets you move the chair into the right position. When you’re done, the world is almost upside down, with his head tilted and you right in the center of it all, trying to adjust the light above you.

“Any moment this gets uncomfortable, you tell me immediately, alright?”, you say far above him and he’s grateful that Goatee is doing a great job at using that little saliva tube because he’d be drooling otherwise. 

Framed by a pair of thighs, your warmth just at the tip of his head, your breasts almost a shelf between him and your face. This is how he wants to die, he thinks. Just a whole lot of soft woman surrounding him. But it’s only just about to get better.

You take the drill into your hands and inch closer until he feels something solid, yet soft touching him. He realizes that it’s your belly at the same time your assistance does, because as his eyes go dinner-plate-wide, Goatee hisses your name through clenched teeth. “Posture.” Never has Sanji hated another man more than him in this very moment. “Oh, thanks”, you beam, so genuine it makes him want to cry. Unfair. Life is entirely unfair. He wallows in self-pity while you let the bur whir. It’s astounding that he really doesn’t feel anything but the pressure and the low vibration that makes his bones swing, too bad it’s exponentially less wonderful when he could have marveled at the feeling and that warm softness touching him. “You know”, you start the moment the instrument buries itself into his enamel, talking as if you’re both contemplating life over some wine. “Your gums are really inflamed. I can tell that you smoke a lot.” Not able to really answer because of the thin sheet of latex over his mouth, he simply hums in confirmation. He can tell that it bothers you - adorable, you’re worried for his health - because you had been downright shocked while going through a questionnaire with him earlier, shooting Goatee looks that only could be described as Are you hearing what I’m hearing? when he confessed to smoking a pack a day.

Well, old habits die hard. “You should really consider quitting or at least cutting down-”, you start and continue to list all the terrible consequences his nicotine addiction might bring, all the while you’re swinging around that little diamond bur like it’s a pen. And, still unable to answer, he hums. If he was able to, he’d probably tell you that he’d do anything for you as long as you let him live between your tits, preferably until the day he draws his last breath. Fuck. It’s definitely the wrong line of thought, especially because they’re so close in this position. He swears he can see the color of your bra peek through your scrubs - he’d almost be giving in to the next little daydream if it weren’t for the fact that you seem to hunch over ever so slightly while you work. Too lost in your thoughts, you seem to have forgotten about the warning you received earlier and let your body curl into itself to get a better view at his tooth. Closer, just a little closer, he thinks, almost going cross-eyed as you concentrate more and more on the task at hand and less on sitting straight. Not even Goatee seems to notice, too focused on helping you. God, are you wearing pink? The thought is enough to send a rush of blood back down to his crotch, his hands gripping the seat underneath him like his life depends on it. He’s desperately trying to think of a million unpleasant things at once - he’s not trying to spoil your efforts. You had been so eager on the phone, had told him that frontal fillings are hard to get. It’d be a shame to ruin that opportunity for you but- The very last few ounces leave his head when he can finally feel that heavenly touch of fabric-cupped fat right on his forehead, the slightest kiss of heaven underneath blessed sterile light. Angels are singing somewhere, he’s sure, and if his mouth wasn’t already open, he’d let out the most pained silent scream to ever exist. Your tits are heavy, they’re warm and they were made to rest on his face until he suffocates and by god, you just don’t back off. Sanji is nothing but a pathetic little prey animal caught between your soft belly and your breasts and he can do nothing but play dead in hope that he might come out of this alive, somehow. You shift your weight, probably reach for the tray in front of you, imaginary violins start playing and it’s officially over.

He slacks against your touch before he can even gurgle for attention (and really, does he want to? If he were to die right now, it would be an honor, a befitting end), the world around him growing quiet, a screen of white taking over. Wherever he is going to is warm and cozy and has a magnetic pull on him, so he follows.

The last thing he hears is you calling his name and Goatee barking orders - because of course he has to get the last word in. “I told you to keep your back straight, god fucking dammit-”

And if you learned one thing that day it was to get your milkers out of people’s faces lest they faint 😔

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Years Of Imitating Mastery, Have Only Made Me A Better Thief

Summary: There was a look in his eyes, a sorrowful longing that he was more familiar with than he would like to be. He didn’t look like Nimloth, not really. Or Elrond and Celeborn angst for Day 3: Extended Family @tolkienfamilyweek

Celeborn had avoided him thus far; nothing obvious or malicious, he was always perfectly civil, but over time it was hard to ignore that when they brushed past each other their eyes never met, that he always seemed to filter out of a room when the others present grew too thin to act as buffers between them, that he didn’t seem fully at ease when Elrond’s gaze rested on him on the rare occasions they did exchange pleasantries.

It didn’t bother him. It didn’t. He had dealt with far worse rejection than the polite avoidance of some distant relative he’d never known. It wasn’t as if Celeborn seemed to distrust him, he had never seemed wary when Elrond was to lead beside him in battle (which was more than he could say for certain Sindar). Occasionally disapproving to be sure but that could easily fall into the category of people who questioned the ethics of letting someone his age fight at all, which he did not mind on principle considering those people were probably right.

On one occasion he could have sworn he saw him flinch momentarily at the eight pointed star on the hilt of his sword when Elrond had been sharpening it over his knee; he had a right to that of course, they all did. It was no one’s fault, not really, it just was.

He rifled through his journal, leather dyed forest green with thick swathes of creamy paper, different shades, textures and scents betraying the way he’d been clipping things into it once the original piece had run out some 30 years previously. He’d have started using a new one, he could certainly afford to, but this had been the first thing he’d been given for no ostensible reason other than that he may like it (he’d gone with Maglor to gather some supplies and he’d assumed it was a ledger for official matters yet he’d come home to find it resting on his pillow. It had been seven silver coins, he remembered that still). He liked to have some reason to carry it around with him so he could remind himself that for reasons beyond his understanding he had been loved by those who were not meant to be capable of it.

At present he was searching for a particular section, the notes he had accumulated over a few particular Avari dialects, as if the few minutes before he needed to be the picture of composure and a fountain of diplomatic knowledge by the High King’s side would give him anymore conversational skill in some of the only languages he had never heard spoken. Still he could not take his page of verb conjugations into the banquet so best try while he could.

‘I hope I’m not interrupting?’ Elrond stifled a sigh and shut the journal on his desk, resigned to his fate of not understanding everything said in discussions for the first time since he came into Gil Galad’s service.

He turned to meet the gaze of his visitor ‘Not at all, was there something you needed Lord Celeborn?’

Rather than an answer he got another question, he should have been used to it after living with elves so long but it still grated at his edainic sensibilities. ‘Are you content in Lindon?’

Well what was he to make of that? Could it be political somehow, Celeborn and Galadriel had seemed pleased enough with Gil Galad’s position but who could begin to parse the web of complexities of their manoeuvrings? ‘Very, my lord. Gil Galad has been exceedingly welcoming and there is no one more worthy of my loyalty.’ Perhaps a little on the defensive side but not nearly as confrontational as he had the slight reputation for being at times.

He did not seem to take offence, smiling, ever so slightly unsure, and pausing before speaking again in a tone almost too gentle to be heard, ‘I’m glad to hear it. You remind me greatly of your grandmother, you know.’

There was a look in his eyes, a sorrowful longing that he was more familiar with than he would like to be. He didn’t look like Nimloth, not really. He’d seen paintings of her, talked to others who had met her, never had any similarity been apparent or commented on. Everyone always said the same thing, Luthien dominated leaving only the barest trace of anything else to be found by those who saw only what they wished to see. Elrond decided to be kind and turned to compose himself by fixing the braids bound above his head, hair black as a void, thick and wavy, as far as you could get from the smooth curtain of silver depicted on the statues of Celeborn’s long lost cousin.

He was interrupted out of his musings by Celeborn hesitantly moving forward to stand in front of him. ‘I- thought that you might like to have this. I guessed that you might not have many things from Doriath.’ In his outstretched hand was a hair clasp, beautiful in its elegance, emerald green coloured glass shaping interlocking leaves and blossoms.

He spoke, only confirming what Elrond already knew, ‘It was her’s.’ This was all he had of her and he was giving it away to someone he barely knew, someone who had never met the elleth he was clearly mourning deeply.

‘Really, lord Celeborn, I cannot accept-’

He placed it into his hand and gently closed Elrond’s fingers around it as if they were delicate, more delicate than the glass itself, liable to be snapped if handled too roughly. Celeborn had seen him rip an orc’s arm out of it’s socket once. He got the feeling that he had tried to forget that, it would complicate matters, make it harder to pretend he was that pale silver haired girl laughing among the trees and muddying her dresses by playing in the riverbanks trying to drag him along with her with childish pleading. Elrond wished once again that images and snatches did not cross from others to him so naturally. Without the confirmation he could have pretended as well.

‘Please. It is yours by right.’ They stood there for a moment, both uncertain but Celeborn hiding it a great deal better.

‘Would you like me to show you how to use it?’ Celeborn smiled at him. It was a nice smile, fond and soft, one you would give a favoured nephew of about ten, not an estranged cousin raised by your worst enemies and trained in all manner of brutal warfare. One he might have given an Elrond raised in the Havens of Sirion, a sweet and naive youth who had never come into being. Is that who Celeborn was choosing to see before him? The perfect Sindarin prince who had died many times since the siege of Sirion, who had perhaps never existed in the first place but who could know now?

Elrond nodded slowly and sank down in front of his mirror obediently; Celeborn gently pulled out the gold pins holding his hair in tight braids about his head and found the brush to slowly smooth out the kinks. Did he breathe easier when the Noldorin patterns were no longer visible or was it just Elrond’s imagination prescribing motives to kindness because that at least was familiar to him. He thought he could feel some satisfaction as the last one unwound; the mark of his ‘captors’ gone from an ellyn Celeborn wished to see as one of his own people.

He found himself wishing for one terrible moment that he could be who Celeborn so clearly wanted, that the complexities could be so easily brushed away with fond and comforting strokes. That maybe if he was Celeborn would stay for a few moments longer; he was gathering his hair in his hands and plaiting pieces of it back from his face patiently, genuinely trying to show him how so he could replicate it. He remembered hearing somewhere that Celeborn and Galadriel had a young daughter and thought fancifully if this was how he was with her. He’d had many families already and it seemed unfair to ache for another when all that he touched burned away in his palm. He wanted nonetheless.

It had been long since he’d felt someone smoothing his hair so gently and the warmth of the gesture made him ache and want to claw desperately and seize at this warmth that seemed so close to genuine affection until he looked up at Celeborn’s face and something in his eyes made the hopeful smile growing on his face falter. He had that far off gaze again, the melancholy one he’d known earlier that told him he was not truly here. He was in Doriath or in Sirion, with Nimloth, Luthien, Elwing or perhaps with a son that belonged to Elrond’s mother and no other.

As a solitary tear slipped past Celeborn’s cheek and was quickly brushed away he decided with a growing weariness that Celeborn needed this more than he did. Elrond was kind above all, a conscious decision for kindness’s sake and a selfish, childish impulse that still believed that if he was more obliging, more helpful, more sweet, more loveable they would stop leaving. One day. When Celeborn was visiting he wore his hair like he’d shown him and dressed in flowing silver, grey and white, certain brooches, necklaces, circlets and weapons left pointedly in his chambers.

He spoke Sindarin perfectly of course, when he sung in it there was no trace of who had taught him to do so. Maglor Feanorian was, rather ironically, entirely forgotten when he sang, no one questioned where he might have learned to manipulate the nature and possibly, some murmured, people around him despite how obvious it should have been that there was one particular bard infamous for using those exact techniques. After all with his ebony waves down to his knees, bright eyes and distinct otherness that could only be Maiarin why should his skill at Song be worth commenting on?

He still smiled brightly when Celeborn kissed his forehead in greeting or complimented and offered advice (generally very good when not affiliated with the Kazhad in any way) on his diplomatic endeavours. The snatches of that girl were never far from Celeborn’s mind when Elrond smiled. Was this all he was, a poor substitute for a thousand different people, a corrupted reflection from a mirror of other people’s regrets? Was it even right to resent it when as Celeborn’s hands had started running through his hair for one moment he’d closed his eyes and wished them to be those of a kinslayer? Even as the warmth he craved lingered in his chest it was replaced with a gnawing emptiness, even greater than before. But Elrond was kind so he smiled as if nothing was amiss.

[clemblog]

Caine’s Lesson - Part 18

•

The pair then found themselves in a new more intimidating adventure. They descended into a large area with yellow walls and gross beige carpeted floors. There was a deep annoying hum from the florescent lights above them. It didn’t seem like the most pleasant place to be… It was made abundantly worse by the awful looking scrawls on the walls made by claws and some kind of ink that was writing notes on the walls, attempting to give some kind of advice of how to traverse the land.

“This… place looks so eery..” Murmured Pomni with a frown. “I- really hope their isn’t anything in here with us-“

“Unfortunately, don’t think that’s gonna be the case darlin’.” Grimaced Gummigoo, running his hand along some of the indents in the walls.

Pomni faulted at this flushing slightly, before quickly brushing the thoughts off to focus on the situation at hand.

“That’s.. not great-“ She frowned, walking over to his side to take a look.

The claw makes looked to come from a creature with paws bigger than her head… She really didn’t want to run into that thing even more now-

With nothing else left to do, the two linked hands wanting to find comfort in one another and started to walk through the new area together.

“Hey, what do you think that is?” Hummed Gummigoo, after around a few minutes of walking.

Pomni looked over and followed his gaze, eyes widening in fear.

There was a dark void hole sticking out from one of the walls. She recognised that void. Why did she recognise that void? Said void began to open several coloured eyes with dark slits in the centre of them.

Oh.

That’s an abstracted being.

Crap.

“What the heck is that?!” Exclaimed Gummigoo, with a jump as Pomni pulled him to start running.

“That- is what happens to me and my circus crew if we get our reality shattered-“ Eeked Pomni, quickly, doing her best to focus on out running the creature.

“What?!” Frowned Gummigoo.

“Uh- Heh- Yeah- Unfortunately- That’s why I escaped to your adventure- Helps keep me sane-“

“That’s sweet, darlin’ but probably not the best time to talk about it-“

“Yeah- You’re right- Let’s just go-“

The abstracted creature let out a loud screech at the two, causing them both to flinch. They managed to keep their footing and continued on to try and escape it.

The growls and screeches got fainter as they kept running.

They found themselves in a large clear room with several pieces of wood.

“Uh, what do we gotta do with these?” Muttered Pomni, picking up a few pieces with her hands.

They looked to be broken pieces of a larger wooden object.

“Try and put them together?” Hummed Gummigoo, picking up all the other pieces.

“Alright-“

The two ended up making a small wooden ladder from the pieces of wood which magically stuck back together when they put the right pieces together.

A little further down the room was a large gap which looked like it was perfectly in reach of their newly fashioned ladder.

The two walked over to it and set it up, moving quickly as the abstracted grumbles got louder and they wanted to get out quick. They climbed up and fell into a slide.

Said slide then lead into a ball pit which clipped them through to a new room.

“Okay- Hopefully the fracture is around here somewhere.” Said Pomni, hopefully.

Gummigoo nodded in agreement. “Yeah- Uh what did you say earlier about you guys and that creature-“

“Oh yeah- Uh, unlike you and the NPC’s we can’t really be rest of our memories- Our… build is more complicated to say the least- It can’t be fixed once it’s broken-“

“…I see, that sounds… scary.”

“…It is. It’s why Ragatha is always so worried about us.”

“I get that. But don’t worry, if I have any say it, you won’t be abstracting anytime soon.”

“Naw-“

The two soon got back up again and explored the new room they found themselves in. It was a large parking garage with a an array of weirdly shaped cars.

They were in an array of colours and were placed all over the area. Gummigoo spotted what looked to be a door in the corner and walked over to investigate. The door had a keypad coloured in various colours. The colours matched the colours of the cars-

“Darlin’, you think you can tell me if theirs any numbers by some colours if I shout them out?”

“Oh! Yeah, I can do that!”

“Perfect, Red?”

“Uhhh five!”

“Blue?”

“Mmmm, two!”

“Green?”

“That is three!”

“And finally yellow?”

“Hmmm, oh! That’s one!”

“Alright we have a cod of 5231.”

“Alrighty then!”

Pomni made her way over and watched as Gummigoo typed in the code. The elevator slowly opened and the two stopped inside.

“We did it!” Beamed Pomni, gently. “I really hope we can find the fracture point in here sooner rather than later- Cause this place is super creepy.”

“No kidding, it just gives ya this super uncomfortable vibe even if theirs no active danger.” Hummed Gummigoo in agreement.

The ring of the elevator music began to drone on, the two stood contently next to each other with their pinkies hooked as they waited for it to stop. It did stop after a few minutes but the doors didn’t open.

“Huh.” Frowned Gummigoo, going to try and pry the door open with his hands which unfortunately didn’t work at all in the slightest.

“That’s weird, elevators are supposed to open-“ Began Pomni, the elevator swiftly moving back into motion this time going upwards at a fast accelerating pace. The two clutched onto one another with brief yelping. Pomni shut her eyes tightly just in time to miss the elevator roof opening up and flinging the pair into the sky and fortunately into the next fracture to their next adventure.

Part 19

[anubisandco]

Ghost and Rabbit. pt5

I didnt drink enough of my coffee last night so heres part five, still not proof read bc yuck anyway forgive me if soap talks funky here i wasnt abt to try and write his accent-

Soap would watch as Rabbit and Ghost show up to the briefings and then leave together afterward. His eyes followed like a hawk. 

He wanted to ask so bad it was like the words were burning his throat, anytime He saw Rabbit alone he wanted to just spit them out and get it over with. It wasn’t like it’d be an issue, well for him at least. If they were secretly dating Soap wouldn’t be the one to wreck things, Ghost was the happiest he’d ever seen the man when he was with her, wherever it might be. 

Med bay, his office, the mess hall, or in the middle of a war zone. 

Today Soap watched them during the brief, his eyes would flick back and forth. He watched as She’d trace a shape onto the back of his hand that rested on the table, Ghosts eyes wouldn’t move from their captain as she did so. He’d whisper a word to her and she’d shake her head yes or no, This wasn’t the first time Soap had witnessed this game between the two. The first time had been when they were out on a mission. 

It was late Soap had woken up in the middle of the night for no reason, His mouth was dry and his brain foggy. He looked around the dark room without sitting up, the safe house had no lights no sign of life. The cots set up around his had his fellow teammates resting on them, Movements from the two by the front door caught his eyes, he turned just enough to watch without being noticed. 

Ghost and Rabbit sat on his cot, legs folded nicely to make room for each other. She had his arm in her lap tracing lines on his forearm, she was smiling and laughing. After how the mission earlier went Soap was surprised she wasn’t still a wreck, simon had been clipped with a bullet which could have been a lot worse than it was if the team didn’t act as fast as they did. 

Soap could hear the rumble of Ghosts' reply and the laughter that followed. 

“ No try again, I’ll do it slower this time focus.” She whispered a little too loud considering. 

“It's hard to focus.” He snipped in good fun. 

“ C’mon Simon, just focus on the feeling, the lines I’m drawing.” She insisted, “ No don’t look at me close your eyes!” 

“ It’s too dark to see you proper anyway, it doesn’t matter.” 

Soap knew that was a lie, if he could see them, Ghost could see her perfectly fine from where he was sitting in front of her. Soap looked around the small cabin room at the others asleep, no one else stirred. He turned his back to them and shut his eyes. 

Now as he watched them in the daylight play this same game, it was almost more interesting. 

The way they would touch each other without hesitation, it has a fact that Ghost hated being touched, even if it was a friendly handshake he’d simply refuse. Rabbit was one of the most open to touch, anytime Soap saw her in the halls she’d insist on hugging him. After a fight, even if he was covered in blood and guts Rabbit would hug him. 

When Price dismissed them all he watched as they said their goodbyes, He was off to his office she was off to the med bay. Some loose ends to tie up before they all left that evening. Soap sat there for just a moment longer than usual debating, mulling it over in his head. He let the words burn his throat for just a second longer before he made up his mind, He stood and followed her down the brightly lit halls. 

“ Rabbit!” He called and she stopped, turning to him with that familiar warm smile. 

“ Soapy.” She greeted him “ What can I do for you?” 

“ I-” Soap hesitated, before continuing to walk, she followed now. Saying nothing the entire way down, she didn’t press and he couldn’t make himself ask quite yet. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared for what the answer would be. 

He held the heavy door open for her and they made their way inside the empty bay, all the sterile beds were clean and waiting for anything. Her desk sat in the corner of the room, piled high with files and medical supplies waiting to be put away, her kit for the field was sitting out and open full to the brim of anything she could stuff in there. Sure it might have been over the top to some, but she knew better. 

“ Lass, can I ask something of ya?” He speaks more to the ground than to her. She zips up her kit and nods. 

“ Of course, anything Soap.”

“ I’ve wondered for a while now s’all.” He was muttering “ About you an’ the Lt?” 

She stopped moving, her hands were still as they held onto a stack of papers she had left out for her medics to put away. She didn’t turn to face him, but he knew she heard him. 

“ What about Simon and I?” 

“ Y’know whats the deal there.” 

“ Soap, I-” She hesitated, “ That’s a longer story than we have time for right now, it’s complicated.” 

He sat on the edge of a metal chair, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“ Are you a thing, y’know?” 

She turned to look at him now her face some shade of pink. 

“ You have to go now.” 

Soap smiled and she could only shake her head at him, He’d get the story some day. She couldn’t say no to him forever, it’d only be a matter of time before she spilled the history of them. Waiting a little longer was something Soap could handle, he’d watch the two for now.

[thewingedbaron]

Tag game! Open tag from @arendaes!

Tag game: Give your KC's first impression and final opinion of each of their companions.

Since Vysk's playthrough is still going, I'll throw this back to Allix, my first KC. TLDR: He's a Freebooter Ranger turned Angel that struggles with the Lawfulness of Heaven while doing his best to keep everyone alive through the crusade. He drinks a lot of coffee.

First Impressions-

Seelah: There are worse people to be trapped in a hole with in a city under siege by demons. A paladin is one of the best options running. I just hope she isn't too by the books...

Camellia: A noble. Just my luck. We'll be lucky to crawl out of this hole with our sanity intact. She has all the fixings of a higher-than-though noble... and yet. There's something off about this one. Some glimmer in her eye I just can't place a finger on. I need to be careful with this one.

Lann: I've never heard of a mongrel before. He seems cheery enough for someone who's lived their whole life underground. Certainly much more open that his companion here. Free spirited, headstrong. I can respect that.

Wenduag: You, I don't trust. I know what it's like to carve out a living in the wilds, amongst a tribe. Those that refuse to walk with kin do not last long, unless there is something else going on in the background. You and Camellia might get along, I feel. You have the same steely glint to your eye, no matter what honey rolls off your tongue.

Woljif: A thief turned crusader. That ought to be something. Woljif might play it cool, but there's a jumpiness to that one. I couldn't leave him in that cell. He seems a little too eager to jump out into the burning streets. He'll bear watching, but I don't think he's as cowardly as he wants to appear.

Ember: No one will touch this child again so long as she remains in my care. To maintain such innocence in her philosophies after being so wronged by the forces that claim to act in the greater good. She is either crazy, or hopelessly optimistic. Either way, she will be protected.

Daeran: Just what I need. Another pompous noble who cares for nothing but his own entertainment. He knows the city better than any of us, and his influence might prove useful. I'll placate him for now, let him get his fill of blood. Gods, hopefully he grows bored and just stays at the inn.

Nenio: A scientist with a death wish that cannot even remember home. Am I the one going mad? Perhaps it is perfectly reasonable to be strolling the streets in the middle of a warzone, asking cultists what they really know about their gods. She has gall. I respect the hells out of that.

Finnean: Poor soul.

Ulbrig: A hundred year old griffon just came crashing through the roof, demanding to know what I did to his lands? I don't have time for this. Well, I might have time for this. This just keeps getting stranger. Maybe he'll calm down once we get him some ale.

Sosiel: A cleric of beauty in the middle of a warzone? What confused loyalties have led you here my friend? He seems nice enough, though I fear he may lack the spine for what is to come. If he can find beauty on a battlefield? Gods, I would envy him. He is even less prepared for this than I.

Regill: Clipped, professional, a man of few words beyond those required for what passes as hellknight tactics. I abhor his organization. I hate with all my heart his treatment of prisoners, wounded, and allies. Yet, his chapter knows how to run an army, run a supply train. I need his experience, as much as I loathe to admit it. We'll be allies, though I may suffer some sleepless nights.

Arueshalae: A demon that wears an icon of Desna? Can demons truly turn on the abyss? I don't see a reason they couldn't I suppose. My own kin are called demons the whole world round for our horns and tails. Who am I to judge if her intentions are true? I'll need to keep an eye on our new ally, but something tells me she's telling the truth. Desna may not be my chosen patron, but she shares a realm with Erastil. May old deadeye guide me true.

Greybor: Any fellow willing to charge a baylor with naught but a dagger is one worth meeting. An assassin by trade? Not exactly my old job description, but I'm sure there's plenty of overlap between that and a bounty hunter. As soon as this is all wrapped up, I need to buy that man a drink.

Trever: Oh Sosiel. A man who wanders from the path is not all lost. I cannot speak to the horrors Trever has suffered in the Abyss, nor can I judge him for the things he has done to survive. I will get him home. That much I can do. As soon as we get out of this thrice damned place.

Queen Galfrey: I am officially over my head. I'm here on a bloody bounty contract, killing demons for gold and hunting the occasional deserter turned bandit. Now, I'm drinking with a Queen and being handed control of a crusading army? It's not too late to slip out the back door, I suppose. But these powers... Gods damn it, this is not the kind of mess I need to be mixed up in.

The Hand of the Inheritor: Oh joy, the right hand of Iomedae, herself. Of all the realms to be looking over my shoulder, I got the lawyers of the afterlife. Angel's have long been allies of the crusade, but I cannot say that I was expecting to have the right hand of the goddess herself looking over my shoulder.

Final Thoughts:

Seelah: One of the finest people I shall ever have the pleasure to know. First among drinking buddies. First into the fray and the last to leave the field. I have had the privilege to meet very few people who truly care as much as Seelah. This war has bent her, but I believe she shall never be broken. I shall treasure her friendship for the rest of my days.

Camellia: I have no regrets in her fate. Thousands of soldiers have perished under my command over this past year. Thousands of families have been devastated, left without sons, daughters, mothers and fathers. That some would be murdered like livestock in my own camp? There was never a way that Camellia could have left that basement alive. Horgus Germ will face tribunal, and perhaps I may sleep soundly again. I very much doubt it.

Lann: Faithful friend. Never have I seen one so wracked with guilt, and yet, you have survived it. I am proud to call you my brother. I cannot explain to you how angry I felt when I thought you would be the instrument of your own demise. I would never have you question my faith in you. I am glad that you found the strength to question your faith in yourself. Please do not name that boat after me.

Wenduag: I cannot help but feel that I could have done more for you. So focused were you on strength, on finding or creating the stronger master. I hope that you found peace in the end, for you have left me with none. For Lann's sake, I hope you found peace.

Woljif: I cannot overstate how proud I am of you. You overcame your demons, quite literally, and chose the higher path. You could have sunk deep into your magic, claimed the power that was before you, but instead you struggled on. I hope you're enjoying your retirement, my friend. I believe we're going plane hopping next month...

Ember: I have never seen someone surprise a god so thoroughly as you. Even Arueshalae is baffled that you managed to flip the Redeemer Queen. They will regale you as a saint, I'm sure. But your friends know the truth. You're just another person, trying to create as much good in the world as you can. I always look forward to your visits.

Daeran: I never did apologize for misjudging you so badly. While I think you and I would never quite see eye to eye, I am proud of how far you've come. I hope you're enjoying shaking up Queen Galfrey's court. She'll need some excitement in peace time. Don't forget that we're vacationing with Woljif soon. I can't wait to hear all the details you've left out of your letters.

Nenio: You continue to baffle me. I'm not sure that I will ever truly understand the depths of your mind. Though I can confidently say that being told to "take my pants off" for friendship in the abyss is a memory that I will never forget. Thank you for making me your assistant. Even if it took you years to finally learn my name.

Finnean: Rest well, my friend. You've earned it.

Ulbrig: I don't think I'm going to ever get used to the idea of you as a god. Come visit some time, yeah? I'll never outdrink you, but it is always a joy to try.

Sosiel: My dearest friend. I do not know how, but we survived. I hope that you are getting the rest you deserve. Your estate is lovely, and your cherry wine is still Arue's favorite. I know that you have your quiet days. The world was never as hoped it would be. But with Trever, and your love at your side, I hope you still find beauty wherever you look. We'll come visit again soon.

Regill: I never expected to have the respect that I harbor for you. We were never quite friends, but I think we now understand each other. I cannot help but admire your discipline, even as it kills you. I hope for nothing more than joy for you. However you choose to find it.

Arueshalae: My darling, what else is there to be said? I am so proud of you for the impossible heights that you have scaled. Our cabin on the water is beautiful. I cannot wait to explore many more dreams with you.

Greybor: I will never understand you. A man truly married to the job. I wish you well, friend. May you stand the test of time and ambition. It takes a lot of gall to run an assassin's guild in the abyss.

Trever: I hope you find your peace, friend. I suspect it will not be found in gods, nor liquor. You have a long and dark road still to walk, but I can think of no finer a man to walk beside you than your brother.

Queen Galfrey: I harbor you no ill will for your trespasses against me. I cannot imagine the weight on your shoulders after a hundred years of war. Your realm is changing rabidly now, new councils, new liberties. The real test of your rule has begun. I am curious to see how you intend to handle it.

The Hand of the Inheritor: Last we spoke you asked me to kill you. I cannot say if I made the right choice in refusal. I hope you found your healing, my friend. I will search for you soon, my friends at my back. If heaven deigned not to open its gates to its finest servant, hurt and broken after fighting its war for it, I will tear down those golden gates myself. Wherever you are, I hope the sun shines brightly. We shall meet again soon enough.

BONUS:

Irabeth:

First- Finally, someone competant to take all this over. Hey, hey, what do you mean I'm in charge???

Final- Anevia is the luckiest woman in the world to have someone as steady as you around. I would not have survived without you. Please bring those cinnamon cookies over again next time, I think Arue would kill me if I forgot to ask.

Anevia:

First- A kindred spirit. We're going to get along famously. Assuming we survive this of course.

Final- The greatest spymaster I could have asked for, and an even greater friend. I will not forget the blackberry mead next time. That was my bad.

[killldeer]

what might be liveblog

- we’re starting with the clip of the accepted test intro!!! woohoo!!!

- holy shit the three chalices that I assume will be poured over nynaeve are black, white, and the middle one is both colors swirled together.

- “not even the One Power will be available to you inside of the arches” haha yeah okay

- “the way back will come but once.” SAY ‘BE STEADFAST’!!! I’M BEING EDGED BY BOOK QUOTES HERE

- I forgot that cutting the forsaken from the eye of the world in the show means no scary maze in nynaeve’s test :( this is definitely for the best though, at the very least because the image of that maze in my head was always very specific and I want to keep it

- the endless slander of the cauthons continues

- WHAT???

- WHAT WAS THAT??????

- I REALLY don’t like this. this bears much more similarity to what nynaeve tells the sisters when she’s fucking raised in book 13

- OH NO WAY. NO WAY. THEY FUCKING GOT ME. THAT WAS FANTASTIC

- I can’t believe I’ve read all the books and they still fucking had me for entirely too long. oh to be a show only fan right now

- anyway it’s seanchan time!!!

- they’re doing a super hasty speedrun of the damane choosing ceremony oh god oh god

- THERE’S THE ACCENT BABY

- oh man suroth’s Voice is killing it. she sounds almost… disney princess enthusiastic. way too cheerful. it’s a really effective and disturbing effect

- wait

- WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK

- YOU FUCKING BASTARDS. RAFE JUDKINS COME HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS ABOUT THIS I HATED THAT SO SO SO MUCH

- okay i took a five minute breather because i think that was just a little too much for me. alright!! i admit!! if you want your audience to Loathe the seanchan this was probably the best way to do it!!! and god knows I can’t complain about this because I’m constantly telling everyone that the great hunt is a horror book! but holy SHIT that was terrible

- rima te wiata is the single best possible casting for sheriam how is she DOING that

- I could talk about every line in this exchange between egwene and liandrin that is loaded with vague late-series foreshadowing but then I’d just be quoting the whole scene so instead I am going to compliment the very fancy little weave of Fire that she quickly fashions to block liandrin’s exit

- RED COAT RAND

- I wish they hadn’t decided on pastels for the cairhienin but I fully admit that this is just the book reader part of my brain talking. the costuming is incredibly well done

- “the more wolf you are… the more you’re mine.” this is sort of a forced way to set up perrin’s eight-book Reluctant Werewolf arc but it’s honestly not any worse than what the books do, which is nothing

- sorry I know that is supposed to be a scary sequence of rand losing control over saidin but I cannot get over the way that the show perfectly translated the tone of the fade-to-black sex scenes from the books

- min mat friendship arc now has a built-in wrench :( liandrin is the source of literally everyone’s problems this season

- EGWENE YOU ARE SO COOL AND I LOVE YOU EVEN THOUGH THIS IS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A GOOD IDEA

- elayne rattling off the statistics about how many attempts there have been to retrieve ppl from the arches. girl

- THE WAY BACK WILL COME BUT ONCE!! BE STEADFAST!!!

- :(((

[iztarshi]

Febuwhump - Secrets Revealed

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

It only takes a month and a half after the Krang invasion before they’re back on the streets. Thank Draxum for super-healing. They’re not quite the same as they were. Leo’s got a new scarf wrapped around his neck and draping over the cracks in his upper carapace, while Raph doesn’t try to hide the lightning crack in his plastron or the patched hole in his carapace. Raph’s mask already hides the scars on his face, much as Donnie’s battle shell hides the scars he would rather no one saw. Mikey is wearing long black compression gloves, jazzed up with a bunch of neon rubber bracelets down the wrists. They’re all moving easily, though, and Mikey’s grip on his nunchucks is sure. There’s an 80% chance they’ll be fine as long as they take it easy.

“Okay, listen up,” Leo says. “Meatsweats has been sighted at Greenwich Village. We don’t know what he’s doing causing trouble so soon after the Invasion, but until we’re absolutely sure he’s not eating anything contaminated we treat it as an emergency.”

“Yeah, I don’t think even Rupert Swaggert could cook Krang and make it tasty. That is some nasty calamari,” Mikey chips in.

“No one moves in until Donnie’s finished scanning him. Donnie you’ve got the… the krang-bio-scanner ready to go?” Leo ignores Mikey and continues, his tone clipped and professional in a way that feels like another kind of scar. A wound in Leo’s bright personality healing rough and grey. Except Donnie caught the quick, self-satisfied gleam in Leo’s eyes, the tell-tale sign that he’s thought of a really terrible pun and is about to inflict it on his brothers, before he stopped himself. Leo pushing himself down, putting himself in a box, is still better than the idea that parts of him might have been lost.

“Ready and waiting,” Donnie confirms.

Leo nods. “Move out.”

The krang-bio-scanner is a delicate piece of work. Donnie has it set up on the roof, pointing down at Meatsweats from its tripod. Meatsweats seems to be doing nothing worse than looting a bakery, so once they’ve confirmed he hasn’t eaten any Krang this should be an easy first mission to get back into the swing of things.

Raph holds out an arm between Donnie and the scanner just as he goes to throw the switch. “Donnie, you’re sure it won’t give a false positive this time?”

“Scoff. You really think I have not adjusted it perfectly before using it in the field?” He ducks under Raph’s arm to swivel the tripod until it points at Leo and then pulls the lever. “See? It no longer registers the minor alien energy of mutants (which I am hypothesising is connected to empyrean, pending further research and an interview with Draxum) as a threat. Version 2.3.5 is completely reliable.”

“We went through this before the mission,” Leo says. “Let Donnie do his thing.”

“Thank you,” Donnie says, and swivels the scanner back towards Meatsweats. “Reading 0.63 KE, well within normal parameters.” He stands to his full height with a flourish. “We’re good to make our entrance.”

They land two on each side of Meatsweats, blocking both ends of the alley. Donnie is next to Raph, while Mikey and Leo are both watching Meatsweats from the other end of the alley, Mikey openly excited and Leo neutral.

“Oh, no, turtles,” Meatsweats groans. “Thought you lot was injured.”

“We heal fast,” Leo says.

“What are you doing robbing a bakery?” Raph asks, making Meatsweats turn. “Thought you did your own cooking.”

“If they want to use my recipe they can either put my name on it or let me eat the results,” Meatsweats says. He throws a cupcake into the air and swallows it in one bite. “Delicious.”

“Marketing is really important for a professional artiste,” Mikey says.

“Okaaaaay,” Leo says. He sounds tired and annoyed, which is about how Donnie feels. They’re all nervous about letting anything slide after the Key, but somehow even in the wake of an alien invasion they’ve managed to find something genuinely trivial. “I’m not even going to make you put that back because that’s probably against ADA laws-”

“CDC,” Donnie hisses.

“-CDC laws. But I am going to beat you up if you don’t get out of here now.”

Meatsweats picks Leo and Mikey as the ones he’d rather walk between to leave the alley. He swings his bag over his shoulder with one hand and raises the other to wipe his mouth. Then, right as he’s level with them, his teeth catch his glove and pull it off, tentacles sprouting and writhing towards Leo who jumps back out of reach with eyes like saucers.

“Or maybe I’ll get the main course before I go enjoy my dessert,” Meatsweats says.

Those writhing tentacles are making Donnie’s stomach churn, it’s like he can feel them on his back, sliding through his spine and into his mind. He’s never felt so scared and disgusted at the thought of being eaten by Meatsweats, not even the time Meatsweats put a pound of butter on him.

Leo looks like he feels the same way which doesn’t stop him grinning as he says, “Aren’t your lines getting awfully stale?” Only then he winces, tooth catching his lower lip, like even in this situation it hurts him to break his professionalism. Except, no. Donnie’s not the best at reading expressions but he doesn’t think it was just that.

Mikey’s nunchucks close around Meatsweats’ neck and whip him over their heads to land the other end of the alley, where Raph punches him a few times and takes the bag of cakes. Meatsweats groans, staring up at Raph, then tucks those horrible tentacles back into his glove, turns his little curly tail and scarpers.

Raph looks from the bag in his hand back to the bakery.

“You might as well bring those,” Mikey says. “Leo’s right about the CDC but I don’t mind eating them. We’re probably done now, so we can go home and have a nice snack.”

“We’re not done,” Leo says. “But if Donnie finds us a good vantage point we can eat while we keep a look out.”

Donnie picks a flat roof with a roof garden as their vantage point because he thinks they could all use the soothing influence of greenery. Especially him, since he would like his stomach to settle enough to actually eat a cupcake. Raph and Mikey are happy enough to dive in, Mikey taking bites out of three cakes at once for comparison purposes while Raph eats two in consecutive bites. Leo perches on the edge of the roof like a gargoyle and ignores them.

Donnie takes a coffee cake, thinking about the first time they met Meatsweats and how and why Donnie had ended up being buttered for cooking. The problem is that Donnie has a suspicion that is, he has to admit, really far fetched. One data point isn’t enough for anything like a hypothesis. If he’s wrong he’s going to look very stupid saying anything but if he’s right then for once he doesn’t want to leave things as they are while he collects data. He takes another cake and goes over to Leo.

“I brought you one,” he says. “It’s carrot cake.”

Leo holds out a hand for it. “Thanks, Don.”

Donnie leans over the edge, next to Leo, looking down at the brilliant neon of New York. Here and there it’s broken by dramatic black and white as, under floodlights, repairs go on into the night. What a town.

Donnie takes the back of Leo’s scarf and tugs.

Leo ends up on his ass in someone’s herb garden, Donnie with a long blue scarf trailing from his hand and linking them together. Around Leo’s neck, gleaming blue and unmistakable, is the collar Donnie built for him two years ago.

Donnie stands there, staring down at Leo, neither of them able to pull their eyes away. Leo’s cheeks are darkening with the brown colour of a blush under green.

Raph makes a small, pained noise.

Leo jumps to his feet, released from stasis all at once, and yanks the scarf out of Donnie’s hands, fumbling to wind it back around his neck.

“Leo,” Donnie says. “Take it off.”

“Why?” Leo asks. “You gave it to me. No one had any problem with me wearing it back then. I’m finally using your gift correctly, so lay off.”

“If you thought we’d find this acceptable you wouldn’t have hidden it,” Donnie says.

Raph steps forward, hesitating when Leo steps back. “You can’t wear something that hurts you,” Raph says.

“It’s just a reminder!” Leo’s twisting the end of the scarf in his hands, twisting the tassels. “I turned the voltage down, it doesn’t even make me twitch now. Just.” He sounds embarrassed. “Until I remember without it. That’s all.”

Donnie swallows hard, choking back bile. He hadn’t meant to hurt Leo. Not really. Not much. Just a reminder. It sounds so much worse in Leo’s voice, as something he’s doing to himself. Nor did Donnie think - at all - about how humiliating it would be to be given a behaviour modification device. To have someone think you needed one. They’d hurt his feelings when they’d misused the devices but he must have hurt theirs - all of theirs - so much more.

Mikey steps forward but like Raph, like Donnie himself, he stops outside of touching distance of Leo. They’re all thinking the same thing about the guy who can make portals and checks out of uncomfortable conversations.

“Dee didn’t mean it,” Mikey says. “None of us want you to feel bad enough you’d hurt yourself. That’s a really big thing, Leo.”

Leo’s going to argue that point but Donnie interrupts before he can. “Mikey’s right. I should not have given you something like that.”

Leo shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine, you’re all worrying too much. It doesn’t really hurt. Look, back then I didn’t get it, why you’d want to change me, but you were right and I understand that now.”

“No,” Donnie hisses. “You don’t. Two years ago I thought that the team would be better if everyone on it was more like me. You were stupid and inefficient and I felt like everyone was slowing me down. Last year I did something even worse than that stupid collar and found out exactly why I was wrong. I altered your minds and nearly couldn’t bring you back. I nearly lost you because I thought I was the only one who could do what the team needed. You are not the only one who has learned this lesson..” Donnie’s shaking, tears gathering in his eyes. He hates this, he hates this so much, that he can only ever express his emotions by letting them take him over. Hollow out his insides and fill his head with static. “Now for Pavolov’s sake, take the stupid thing off.”

Leo looks like he’s been punched in the snout, hands pulling nervously at his scarf like he’s unsure whether to unwind it again. For once he seems lost for words.

“Leo, please,” Raph says, voice a hoarse rumble. Mikey nods frantically, fixing big, scared eyes on Leo, and Donnie sees Leo wilt under that gaze. He tugs his scarf away and undoes the collar, finally taking it away from his neck and holding it loosely in one hand.

Donnie swipes out his bo, knocking the collar out of Leo’s hand and into the ground with enough force to smash it. Electrical components scatter over someone’s parsley.

Leo meets Donnie’s eyes still looking stunned and nobody has anything to say.

[hydrasquadd]

Sound of lightning

HFNH masterpost

Previous

Sorrel immediately noticed the tension in the air with Solar. The way his parents eyed her with peculiar looks. The visit must have been unexpected. Savannah didn't seem very fond of her mother.

Her and Sorrel's feathers matched, which Solar took great pride in. She seemed to compliment anything and everything about the siblings. She even offered the sculpted clip in her mane to Summer, because the sun would go with their name.

This was one of the biggest things that stood out to Sorrel. The pins, clips, and piercings. She was undoubtedly a kingdom feywing. The fact was slightly unnerving. Kingdom feywings and group feywings were known to not get along the best. One with a feeling of superiority over the other. But Solar didn't make any note of this.

It was the evening when things especially began to become strange. The sun began to dip below the horizon, and the group began to grab dinner from storage. Sorrel broke away from his siblings, still chatting with Solar, to take part in the meal. She had been following them all day. It was his first chance to have a breath.

Picking out a few fresh fruits, footsteps sounded from behind him. He immediately knew who they were. His ears dropped in a frustrated disappointment. Stormy and Summer strode up beside him and began picking food for themselves. Sorrel knew who followed, nose twitching in anticipation.

"Do you think she'd like this orange?" Summer asked from beside him. Grabbing the orange in question and holding it up. "It's the same color as her!"

Of course Sorrel's siblings would like Solar. Even picking out a fruit she would like. She really catered to their love.

"Uh- I donno. Probably." Storm replied absent-mindedly. "She should come up here and pick it herself."

It was then that Sorrel realized his dread had been unfounded. Solar was not, in fact, in toe with his siblings.

Sneaking a glance backwards, his eyes narrowed as the orange feywing actually walked away from them.

"We can make it a surprise, shh!" Summer put their paw on Stormy's nose.

"You're the one being loud about it!" She retorted.

Sorrel quietly slipped away from the two, leaving them to their banter. He began following the fresh scent of Solar's trail. She was completely out of sight by now. The only time all day she had stopped talking. The farther Sorrel was led, the more nervous he became. It tracked right into the den the group had dug out for Sugar. The leader's suite. He began to wonder what business Solar had in there. Perhaps Sugar had noticed the strange tension.

As he approached, voices sounded from inside. Curiosity peaked, Sorrel crouched near the entrance, but not in sight from inside. Ears twisted as far to the side as they could go, he listened.

"You have to understand that she'd have such a better life with us," the unmistakable high-pitched voice of Solar. "Think about it, finally some time to rest without any danger!"

"We are perfectly safe here." The growl of a perturbed Sugar.

"I don't mean this in a rude way, of course," Solar began, "but you don't even have guards here!"

"I and the others are perfectly capable of protecting each other... Without the title of a guard."

There was a moment of quiet.

"At least let the children come." Solar's voice lowered. Her shift in tone sent a chill into Sorrel, wondering if she was referring to him.

She quickly continued, "With all due respect, ma'am-," Solar took a breath, "You're in a much worse position than you think."

"We all came from bad positions." Sugar's voice was strong, "Especially Savannah, who you seemingly abandoned."

Sorrel's jaw clenched.

"Oh..."

"I see."

"That is exactly what you're misunderstanding."

Solar's tone grew ever deeper.

"She told you this was someone else's fault. An attack, maybe?"

"Get to the point," Sugar barked.

"I know, you trust her now..." Solar remarked, "That's your problem."

Sorrel could swear he heard the smirk in her voice, "Nothing suddenly happened to Savannah. It was her own doing. Her father's death is the only truth you've been fed."

Sorrel's fur bristled.

"I was forced to flee from her bloodthirst. I was saved by the kingdom feywings- the only griphs she wouldn't come near." Solar's pase picked up.

"I watched."

Her voice became exasperated.

"I watched her tear apart her sister."

Her pitch shooting back up.

"You either let me bring her back-"

An ear-grating sound tingling with madness.

"Or I'll send them here to do it by force."

Sorrel could picture her smile,

friendly and welcoming.

.

It was silent.

Sorrel's claws dug into the mud. The soft dirt under his nails suddenly became disgusting. He could hear every breath within the base. Wheezing in, and out. The light shaking of his strained ears felt like an earthquake. His nose like a rabbit's, horrible with unstoppable twitches. The touch of his tail on the ground- grating and scraping.

The deafening crack shot him into overload. The world became white. Roaring, the roaring was all he could hear.

By time Sorrel came back to his scenes,

Solar was gone.

[cherryeol04]

Action! | Ch. 23 (M)

Genre: Humor, Romance, Slice of life?, Crackheadedness

Pairings: BaekRen, MinRon

Work Count: 2.3K

Summary:  From the moment he was casted, Ren wasn't sure if he had what it would take to be a pop idol. Losing faith in himself, he was going to give up the future he had always wanted, but one person stood by his side and renewed his faith. After a hot debut and rapid growth of stardom, Ren started to notice that maybe this person, his close friend, was something more. But how could a straight man even remotely think of a homosexual relationship?

Warnings: Homophobia, smut in this chapter!

A/N: I wrote this series back in 2012 and used OCs and over the top writing style for arguments. Whoops. Lmao it’s pretty decent though, so I hope you enjoy!

↶Previous     Next↷

No one’s POV

The days that passed after Adrian’s visit were slow, uneventful, but full of grief and worry. After leaving the house, Adrian had called Aron and gave him a brief update on what happened to share with the other members. Things were going to be solved. Baekho was aware now, truly aware of what his actions had done and that he needed to do something about it as soon as he possibly could. There was no reason to sit and wait around any longer. If he did, there was a good chance he was going to lose Ren forever. As it was, there was still a bit of hope left in the blond, just enough to maybe get things shifted in the right direction.

But that was something Baekho was going to have to do. The rest of them were at a loss. There was nothing they could do to help aid in the process. It was a waiting game for them, and what was a better way to wait than to search the internet for useless information.  Though for Minhyun, the information he was searching for wasn’t really useless. It was pertinent information. Even through all the mess, somehow Minhyun and Aron found time to continue to go on dates. Though they’ve only been on three, it was enough for Minhyun to realize how much he really did like Aron. Their dates were his current escape from reality. They let him be free…both of them really. They could be themselves once more, enjoy each other’s company and laugh.

That’s why he decided it was time to look up the information he needed to know. He was ready to take their relationship a step further. Not full on sex, but enough to make them both happy. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be bottom, or to be top even with Aron. Not that he thought Aron would leave him, but things happened. Sometimes things didn’t work out. Minhyun was waiting, letting the time pass before he took the big leap. But in the meantime, that didn’t mean the two of them couldn’t have fun together. After all, they were teenage boys…or well he was, not so much Aron anymore. But they had needs, urges and it just seemed so convenient to take care of those urges together.

Though as he searched the web pages and watched a few clips, Minhyun was starting to doubt if he could even do that. It’s not that he was turned off by what the people were doing. It was porn after all. Gay porn, but porn none the less. It was arousing to him, but he couldn’t picture himself doing what he saw these men doing.

“Minnie.” Minhyun jumped when the door to his room opened and Aron walked in. He stared at the other wide eyed and moved to close the laptop he was using, but he just wasn’t quick enough. “What are you looking at?” the other asked, bending over to look at the screen. “Porn?”

“Yah! Can’t you knock?!” Minhyun nearly shouted, face heated as he closed the laptop, glaring at the other.

“Knock? Why? This is my room too.” Aron said and grinned. “Why were you looking at porn Minnie?” he asked.

“None of your business.” Minhyun said and looked away. He couldn’t be more embarrassed. Well he could. It would have been worse if he had been caught looking at it in public or something like that. Though, that would never happen in this lifetime.

“Minhyun, it’s perfectly normal to look at porn. Just don’t let manager-hyung catch you.” Aron said and nudged him some. “I can give you the names of a few sites I visit.” He offered.

“No thank you!”

Aron stepped back, taking in the other. He was a bit confused by Minhyun’s sudden behavior. Sure Minhyun was a straight and narrow type of guy, but come on. This is way out of the norm for the other. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his head lightly. “Minhyun, what’s going on? You don’t have to act so mean towards me.”

A sigh left the other and his shoulder’s visibly relaxed. Minhyun looked back at the man he was slowly calling his boyfriend. “I’m sorry.” He said. “But it’s a bit embarrassing to be caught looking at porn.” He said.

“Well, better me than JR right?” Aron asked. Minhyun rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“That’s beside the point.” Minhyun muttered and sat back in his chair, staring at the wall. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” Aron said and grinned. Grabbing the back of the chair, he pulled it towards the bed, wheeling Minhyun halfway across the room.

“Aron!” Minhyun cried out, long legs flailing as he tried to keep his balance until the chair stopped moving. Swiveling around, he glared at the other. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to sit.” Aron said and shrugged, sitting on the bed, grinning. “So tell me Minnie, what made you want to look at porn?” he asked.

“Aron!” Minhyun groaned, covering his face. “Do you honestly need to know every personal detail in my life? Some things I would like to keep private.” He stated. Rubbing his face a bit, he pulled his hand away and stared at the other. “You honestly don’t need to know.” He added.

Aron frowned and reached out, taking hold of Minhyun’s hand. “Sure I need to know.” He brought the hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. “I’m your boyfriend right? I make it my duty to know what interests you. After all, how am I supposed to please you if I don’t know what turns you on?” he asked.

Cocking his head, Minhyun raised a brow at the other’s reasoning. “But, aren’t you supposed to find out on your own?” he asked.

A smirk spread over Aron’s face at the comment. “You’re right Minnie.” He said. Holding the hand, he yanked the other out of the chair and into his lap. Though it didn’t work as well as he had hoped and they bumped heads, both crashing back onto the bed.

“Fuck.” The hiss left them both as they each touched the spot where their foreheads met. “That so didn’t work out like I planned.” Aron grunted.  Minhyun laughed as he lay on his back, fingers gingerly touching his forehead.

“A romantic you are not.” He teased the other.  Aron frowned and leaned over him.

“So mean to me Minnie. I was trying.” He said. Minhyun looked up at him and smiled. Reaching up, he stroked Aron’s face gently.

“I know. You’ve done well so far except for this instance.” Minhyun praised him, bringing a smile to Aron’s lips. Leaning up, he closed the gap between and kissed him softly. He wasn’t too used to kissing Aron. They had only shared a few stolen kisses while sitting in the back of the van, or after coming home from a date. They weren’t overly affectionate with each other, but now Minhyun was hoping to change that.

A moan left Minhyun as Aron returned the kiss, a hand stroking the side of his face and his neck gently. It was a nice feeling, one that had Minhyun shivering in pleasure.  Aron took note of the shiver and wanted to bring out more of those types of reactions from the other, but the talk of anything sexual had never come up in their conversations, so he wasn’t sure what Minhyun’s take on it was.

Pulling back, Aron stared down at him, staring intently at him. Minhyun looked up at him, a bit confused on what was going on. “What’s wrong Aron?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Aron said with a shake of his head. “I was just wondering though just how far you wanted to take this.” He said. Minhyun paused for a moment, thinking it over carefully. This was his chance to be open and honest and honesty was always the best policy.

“Well, I want to go a bit further in our relationship.” he told Aron. “But, I don’t know if I could go all the way. At least, not yet.” Dark eyes stared into those of his boyfriend’s, searching them for any sign of hatred. He wasn’t sure why he thought Aron would hate him for not putting out, but he just did.

“Minnie.” Aron whispered and smiled. “That’s fine. You know I wouldn’t push you into anything you didn’t want to do.” The male assured him, bringing a smile to Minhyun’s lips. “Is there something you wanted to try?” he asked.

Minhyun thought on the question, a nod slowly leaving him. “Yeah. I mean I just want to take things slow. So can we try using our hands first?”

“Hands?” Aron asked and chuckled. “Sure.” He said.

“Really?” Minhyun asked and sat up happily.  “Alright!” Aron sat back and laughed, watching his soon to be lover. Was it fair to call Minhyun his lover and they hadn’t actually had sex? Well a hand job was a form of sex, so yeah, he could call the other his lover.

“You’re so cute Minnie.” He said. “Now, how about you show me your sexy side and strip for me?” he asked, licking his lips. Minhyun gazed at Aron before climbing off the bed. Grinning, he reached down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head slowly. He wasn’t muscular, but he was fit; it was a dancer’s body.  Throwing the shirt onto the floor, he worked open the belt and popped open the top of his jeans. He slid them off his hips slowly and with a bit of tugging, got them down his thighs and calves. Skinny jeans were tight, but looked so good.

Aron’s eyes never left Minhyun, even as the other struggled to get his pants off. Not that he was any better. At times he had to get one of the members to help him pull his pants off. But that’s the punishment they got for fashion.

“Beautiful Minnie.” Aron ran his eyes over the exposed body, taking in the cute little duck boxers the other had on. “Off with them.” He said.

“Not yet. You strip too.” Minhyun said, shaking his head. Aron raised a brow, but didn’t complain. Standing, he stripped out of his own clothes, down to his boxers. It was only fair that he and Minhyun were on the same level of nakedness.

“Happy?” he teased and chuckled.

“Who gave you the heart boxers?” Minhyun asked, grinning as Aron blushed.

“My mom for my last birthday. Let’s not kill the mood shall we?” Aron asked. Taking Minhyun’s hand, he moved him over to the bed and pushed him down. Sitting next to him, he smirked. “I’d much rather focus on you.” He whispered, lips brushing over the other’s ear. Reaching up, he ran his hand over Minhyun’s chest lightly, fingers grazing over hard nipples. He felt Minhyun shiver and the moan that left the other was such sweet music.

“Aron.” Minhyun panted. “That feels really good.” He whispered. It was making him aroused, boxers tenting slightly.

“Want more?” Aron asked. Minhyun nodded his head eagerly. “Where beautiful? Here?” he asked, hand sliding down and resting over the tent. He moved his hand slowly, smirking. “Does this feel good?”

“Aron.” Minhyun gasped out as the hand touched him in such an intimate area. Aron smirked. He loved the gasps and moans he pulled from the younger male. Minhyun was truly beautiful erotic and arousing. He was still wondering how he got so lucky to capture his heart.

“Hey guys!”

The two froze as their door opened. Their eyes locked with the shocked, wide eyes of their leader. Oh great. Just the right person that needed to walk in on them. Now they were going to get in more trouble. JR was still a bit iffy on the whole gay subject. This was not the right thing for him to walk in on. And worse, Aron felt the hard member soften instantly. Damn it! The mood was ruined.

“Uh…ah….sorry!” The door slammed shut and the two let out a breath they had been holding in.

“Well fuck.” Aron groaned as he fell back on the bed, pissed his time with Minhyun had been interrupted.

“Oh boy.” Minhyun whispered. He knew now, trying to get it on with Aron was not going to work. At least it couldn’t happen in their dorm so long as JR was home. “That wasn’t a good idea.” He said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Aron said, raising up a bit and watched as Minhyun started dressing. “Babe, it's fine. We can try again, another time. Or….when everyone is asleep.” He offered. Minhyun paused in his dressing and thought on the suggestions and nodded.

“We can try again later. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but after things settle down and we see how JR reacts?” he asked. He was very worried about JR. He didn’t have feelings for the other anymore, or at least, they weren’t as strong as before. But he was still worried about JR’s reaction. He could still be hurt by those harsh cruel words that the other spoke weeks ago.

“Alright then.” Aron said. Standing, he moved to Minhyun and kissed him lovingly. Pulling back, he grabbed his clothes and dressed. “So, what do you want to do now?” He asked.

Minhyun was thankful for the kiss, but now it was a bit awkward between them. “Well um….want to go see what Baekho is doing?” he asked.

“Sure!” Aron said and grinned and ushered Minhyun out of their room and headed to find the boneheaded idiot that hurt Ren so badly the blond left him and see if they could help him in whatever plans he had to get the other back. They took note that JR was nowhere to be seen in the dorm.

[raayllum]

Opinion about the first episode of season 4?

My first watch it did feel a little clunky, but I think that's also bc 1) as a super fan I'd seen all the clips released already and 2) had read the SDCC twitter thread, so nothing about the episode was a surprise in terms of like, scene by scene stuff. 4x01 in particular hinges on two mis-directs where what we think may be conflict (Sunfire ambush, 'plot against the king'") only for them to both be happier things. Which is why I think Callum's plotline ending badly (aka sadly) is important because otherwise it's too much of a positive note.

AKA I've watched the episode 3 times since and it 100% worked for me (which is also how it worked for S3 feeling a little fast the first time I saw it, but I was also hyped up on so much adrenaline and very little sleep and - shockingly - that makes a difference, I know). I've seen people complain about the tone but I think people tend to have nostalgia perfection goggles on for things they love and compared TDP to (largely ATLA, which had "Zuko angrily visiting Iroh in prison" and "Aang throwing a secret dance party" intercut immediately with one another) and it's like - TDP has always done a very good job at balancing its tone, same as ATLA, but it does feel hypocritical to watch fans of both not realize what they're "excusing" just cause they're used to it vs being hard on TDP.

This goes for TDP too since besides 1x01, this is probably the most packed premiere episode we've had. 2x01 was very exposition heavy when it came to magic and not much else actually happened in it, and like... 3 things happen in 3x01 and the most important stuff is all near the end of the episode, basically? So while 4x01 is absolutely doing the heavy work of catching us up and doing set up for the season, I think it does that difficult job as well as it reasonably can, tbh. Again: I don't mind people complaining, but the complaints gotta be grounded in merit, y'know? (That said: soft blocking people with negativity in the tags because I'm not about that with this show and never will be).

I have also been tickled pink by all the more casual reviewers / watchers who was surprised at Callum's behaviour with Soren and his lack of patience for bullshit now, since not only is it exactly how I thought he'd be post-timeskip and TTM, I thought it was exactly how he'd behave post-a speculative timeskip back in January 2020 with excerpts like this from "If Time Is Money" - so fucking satisfying, man:

She could perfectly picture the haughty look on Runaan’s face as he said, in a rather bored voice, as though whatever conversation that was about to be had was pointless. Runaan wasn’t necessarily a proud individual, but he had little patience for what he deemed illusions of youth or other perceived wastes of time. “Listen, boy—” “No, you listen,” Callum said, fair more sternly. Sterner than Tiadrin would have thought possible, given the softness he generally carried. “We’re never going to like each other, for obvious reasons. I think I have a far better one, as yours is based in prejudice, and mine is based on the fact you literally murdered my father, but that’s not the point. The point is that while I don’t care what you say about me, as I’ve heard far worse from other elves like you, Rayla does and you are still her father and she deserves to have you in her life and to have a good relationship with you. So when she’s not around, you can say whatever you want, even to my face. I don’t care and I don’t plan on rising to it anyway. But when she is around, you keep that shit to yourself, because it’s only going to upset her, and she’s been through more than enough.” Runaan’s face was stiff and barely readable, when Tiadrin stole a look. It was only because she knew him so well that she could tell he was at least a little gobsmacked, and so, quite frankly, was she.  The prince’s tone left no room for debate, as she carefully watched Runaan try and scrounge up anything to say at all. 

Adored all the Viren and Callum parallels since I've also thought since S2 that S4 would ramp it up majorly and it's super gratifying / interesting / exciting to watch that come to fruition. I also loved the Janaya proposal and thought it was super sweet. I gotta adjust to some of the small animation changes (I think possibly character / face silhouette line work and being even more fluid than before) but I love the flexing, updated character designs, and all the little microexpressions.

I'm so pumped for the rest of the season, it's going to be unreal (and just like, 2.5 days away now)!

[sugamamacustard]

Sweet little chick

 Pairing: Mafia boss! Alpha! Sugawara Koushi! X Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Yandere

Request: N/A

Summary: The Karasuno Crows fell to the will of one person and one person alone. You were expected to do the same to the mama crow.

Warnings:  Slight/Yandere! Themes. Stockholm Syndrome, Collars, dresses, blood/core/ mafia compliant violence. 

Author’s Note:  An anon on my main blog (Shameless plug, it’s @angstyclowns​) sent me an amazing message and I took care of myself for once and now I’m super motivated! Also, I’m tried keeping this gender neutral, but reader does end up in a dress and thigh highs, so I’m sorry for that!

Requests: Open!

Disclaimer: I do not condone the acts below, please do not kidnap people you fancy and force them to stay against their will until they pull a beauty and the beast. Thanks for reading!

Sugawara Koushi

➵ You weren’t sure how long you had been there. 

➵ In fact, at this point you weren’t sure you cared. 

➵ You were respected here. People groveled on their knees at your feet for your favor, just to make you smile.

➵ Because if you liked them, your alpha was less likely to slit their throats. You were a direct link to getting in the alpha’s good graces.

➵ At first, you hated it. Hated the feeling of people begging you for their lives.

➵ And sometimes, sometimes late at night, you hated it now too. Hated how their screams still rung in your ears, begging and pleading for you to help.

➵ Most times, your alpha tried to keep you out of the bloody weeds of his business, but some times, when Noya or Hinata weren’t quick enough to stop a new guy who royally messed up from begging you to call off the hit.

➵  At that point, you had to hide in your nest, close your eyes and cover your ears until Suga came to comfort you.

➵ In the beginning you would smack him away, but now you craved his touch. His hugs, his purrs, his words of reassurance, anything he would give to you to settle your fears. 

➵ You weren’t sure why you pushed him away in the first place, as you were much better now. You were getting help after the untimely death of your parents (Car accident), you had friends (Suga allowed you to keep company with some of the other crows’ omegas), and everything you wanted at the snap of your fingers.

➵ You were perfectly content with life as it was. 

➵ But that didn’t mean you didn’t have your own rules to follow. 

➵ Your alpha had several rules to follow, especially because of the role he played. 

➵ When he had meetings with Fukorodani or Nekoma, you were to sit on his lap, in whatever tight little number you were gifted that day, and stay quiet. Occasionally, Daichi (Who ran Karasuno along side Suga) would bring his own omega and you two would be allowed to talk quietly among yourselves or play Animal crossing together. 

➵ If you had a concern or comment, you would whisper it to Koushi, who would either allow you to share or re-word it himself.

➵ The other leaders thought you were the second cutest thing in their worlds (Their own omegas holding first. But you were reminded them of their own omegas they left at home) and always listened when you spoke, treating you like a valid member of the Karasuno crew.

➵ Which you were. 

➵ But not in the same sense as everyone else. You were more-or-less an innocent bystander that held the title. 

➵ Under no circumstances however, were you allowed to talk to someone that wasn’t approved by Koushi. Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa (Read, Iwaizumi), even Ushijima were all approved, their omegas too, but no one else. 

➵ They understood this, growling at their guards and anyone else they brought for a meeting to stay away. 

➵ But unfortunately, not all people took the gracious warnings they provided. 

➵ The day started off like it normally did, with Suga waking up far earlier than you cared to know. 

➵ He pecked your lips while you groggily watched him get ready, button his shirt while you sat up to run your hands through his hair.

➵ “Do you have to leave so early, Koushi?” You whined, pulling him down once more to hug him tightly. He chuckled in your ear, pecking your cheek before prying you off. 

➵ “Unfortunately I do, sweet thing. But I promise, I’ll back to pick you up for the meeting later.”  A final kiss was pressed to your lips before your alpha was off, tightening his tie on the way out and slinging on his suit jacket.

➵ Predictably so, you went back to bed, sleeping until a knock on the door woke you up. 

➵ Hinata walked in slowly, beaming down at you brightly before setting down a silver and gold box and walking back out, closing the door behind him. You liked Hinata. He seemed to have a second sense to when you wanted to talk or when you just wanted your alpha.

➵ His omega was lucky. 

➵ But you were more lucky. You got to see your alpha soon, since he always had your dresses delivered in the time frame that allowed you to get ready right before Suga would show up to pick you up

➵ So you shakily got up, stretching and yawning before picking  up the box and sliding off the top. The dress inside was a velvet black up until the bodess, which was a sweetheart neckline. From there, a mesh overcoat covering your shoulders and arms hooked around your neck. It was beautiful. 

➵ So you slipped it on quickly, styling your hair with dry shampoo and whatever else you deemed appropriate and slipping some black thigh highs to match  before clipping on the final accessory

➵ It was a pristine white collar that buckled around your neck, with a small white bell and a hanging heart charm that simply said your name. It wasn’t as extravagant as the other omegas’ collars, but it suited Suga-- who, in a way, owned you. 

➵ Like clockwork. the moment you finished tightening the collar your alpha was knocking on the door, opening it soon after and smiling at you. 

➵ He was in a different suit then what he left in and his knuckles were wrapped, but you didn’t want to question it. 

➵ “Ready to go?” 

➵ You nodded excitedly, hooking your arm with his and making your way out of the room. He grabbed your switch (Which he had gifted you, custom with your favorite colored joycons) on the way out, soon leading you to the ‘meeting room’. 

➵ Daichi and Kuroo both smiled from their conversation when you two finally made your entrance, nodding in your direction. 

➵ Suga sat in his chair, allowing you to sit in his lap right after before passing you the gaming console and starting the meeting. (Kuroo and Daichi said something about how lucky Suga was that you were ‘ready’ whatever that meant)

➵ You didn’t care to listen, probably for the better, only playing animal crossing with small hums leaving you. 

➵ Twenty minutes in and all was fine with minimal disagreement on whatever was going on. At least, minimal trouble for the alphas.

➵ You felt a sense of unease set over you while you were playing a while ago but hoped it would just disappear. 

➵ But it never did. 

➵ You looked up to see Suga completely enveloped in the conversation with Kuroo and Daichi, so it wasn’t him, nor the other two alphas. 

➵ Looking around, you noted it wasn’t any of the Karasuno crows that were in there. 

➵ All the usual people Kuroo brought with him were focusing on the void. 

➵ All but one. You had never seen him before but he looked slimy from here. Even Lev (One of Kuroo’s bodyguards that got along with literally everyone, including you) was standing far away from him.

➵ His hair was greasy and blue. A gross as blue that looked like he tried to go for silver but failed. 

➵ It was disgusting to you and he was staring directly at you. Who tf was this guy???

➵  You mindlessly nuzzled back into Suga’s arms, which made him falter and look down at you before going back to the conversation (A land deal?) 

➵ But the feeling never faltered. 

➵ You had tried getting up to go the bathroom once during the meeting but the feeling at you sitting right back down, trying so hard to focus on your game. Your scent was burnt slightly, which set Suga on edge, but what made it even worse was when the boy- smelled like beta- offered to take you off of Suga’s hands for the meeting. 

➵ “A frail thing like her shouldn’t be in the company of such vile conversation topics, yeah?” 

➵ “We’re talking about land, what about that is vile?” Suga sneered, switching from looking at you to the man. He could tell you were off the moment you burrowed into him.

➵ There weren’t any excited giggles coming from you if you discovered something new. No squeals of joy when you finally, finally caught that fish you had been trying to catch for however long. Nothing. Silence and tense muscles.

➵ He had been trying to figure out what was wrong with you the entire time until it suddenly clicked. 

➵ The male spoke and you were grabbing his shirt like a lifeline.

➵ It was him. 

➵ This beta was making his omega uncomfortable. 

➵  Kuroo and Daichi picked up on this fairly quickly, Kuroo already apologizing to Daichi before looking to the Beta. 

➵ Suga didn’t hear what they said, but he felt Daichi pushing you and him out of the room. A silent promise in his eyes.

➵ He picked you up effortlessly, taking you to your room and setting you in your nest and scenting you excessively

➵ You whimpered and allowed him to do so, the switch being discarded somewhere. 

➵ Suga held you to his chest for hours after that, silently planning  ever terrible thing he would unleash unto the unsuspecting beta. 

➵ there was nothing in the world Suga wouldn’t do for you. 

➵ He killed for you once and he’d do it again over and over again.

➵ Whether it be faking a car accident or disposing of trash, keeping eyes on you with specially planted agents, Suga was willing to do everything for you. 

➵ And he certainly had the means to do so.

[octaviasdread]

Gendered Boarding Schools: Dead Poets Society (1989) & All I Wanna Do (1998) - Part Four

P1: Character & Plot Similarities | P2: Schools, Teachers & Star Students | P3: Student Rebellions & Secret Societies

Part Four: Are They Queer?

All the Anderperry parallels plus some other stuff. I did try and get a screenshot of the ✨moment in pink✨ but it was too blurry so I’ll try looking for a clip to post later<3

I know 90% of the people reading this are here for DPS content, and a large number of this group are part of the queer community, so here are a few points to consider:

Verena - Late bloomer? Ace-spec? Sapphic? Each of these readings can be (in my opinion, Judge Lessner) easily evidenced.

On one hand, not all allosexual, masculine attracted teenage girls show an interest in relationships from a young age. Verena also has little interaction with boys and this undeniably colours her views. Meeting Frosty and connecting with him over their troubled home lives and ambitions to live against the status quo allows Verena to look at a teenage boy as a person rather than a game piece or as an embodiment of the opportunities she cannot have. Seeing Frosty as not just a person, but as an equal, causes Verena to question herself. Through Frosty, her worldview broadens, and she begins to envision - for the first time - a life for herself beyond the familiar walls of Miss Goddard's.

On the other hand, Verena is outwardly and vehemently repulsed by boys - and physical acts in general - until she kisses Frosty.

This repulsion is not rooted in a lack of knowledge or positive anecdotes since her best friend, Tinka Parker, is portrayed as being highly promiscuous with "three pregnancy scares," and a self-proclaimed ambition to be "a famous actress-singer-slut." Although the dominant, conservative culture would encourage judgement of Tinka, Verena (and the rest of the group) not only accept her, but facilitate Tinka's weekends away - and they are quick to make Odette the same offer.

Furthermore, Verena is baffled by her friends' interest in physical intimacy. When Odie states her greatest ambition is "to do what I was going to before I got caught," Verena exclaims, "your greatest ambition is to lay with your legs open like a bug?!" This line perfectly encapsulates Verena's attitude long before her admission to Odie that she "lusts for no one." In fact, Verena's rooftop speech is her listing the advantages of not having any interest.

Alternatively, They Were Roommates:

Verena and Odie may not have the constant Anderperry heart eyes but, there are more than enough parallels to make comparisons between the two pairs of roommates. Maybe I'll make a post on them all, but here are some highlights:

(Shout out to @impressedcauliflower for providing the anderperry roof image in my hour of need <3)

1) The Rooftop Scene - Prefacing the rooftop is a fleeting moment in the dormitory that has similar energy to both the flying desk set and the Anderperry 'No <3' scenes.

"Nothing Mr Keating has to say means shit to you, does it? You're in the club, and being in the club means being stirred up by things [...]"

"You want me out?"

"No, I want you in. But being in means you gotta do something, not just say you're in..."

"[...] I'm not like that."

"Don't you think you could be?"

Verena and Neil are dreamers with big plans while their roommates, at first, struggle to see beyond any obstacles. Like Todd doubting his own ability, Odette cannot see beyond her first failure. Defeated, she lies sulkily on her bed. Verena - though personally unbothered by the idea of never leaving school property - comes to sit on the edge of her bed to deliver the 'no more little white gloves' pep talk that Odie recalls during the protest.

"You promised to help and instead you made things worse."

"Hey, we didn't get rid of Dewey either. You can't collapse because of some minor disappointment. You get tougher. In the DAR we have a saying, no more little white gloves."

Much like Neil reinforcing the values of the Dead Poets to draw Todd out of his shell, Verena introduces the philosophy of the DAR to encourage Odie into thinking bigger and believing in her own abilities. These talks end with actions taken by Neil and Verena - stealing poems, throwing desk sets, and smoking on the roof - to shake off their roommate's negative mood and give subtle reassurance of their place in the friendship group and club.

Verena and Neil often show comfort with closeness and touch, while Odie and Todd, though receptive to the subtle affection, show their appreciation by paying attention. The new kids are more withdrawn, but they have no issues making any feelings of dislike or disinterest clear. For example, Odie disregards Abigail’s hall monitor status and ditches her during the welcome tour, and Todd rolls his eyes at Keating while making his reluctance to improv a poem clear.

And the theme of rooftops? Anderperry have an honest talk about Todd's home life on the rooftop with the therapeutic desk throwing. This emotional theme is continued when Verena drags Odie to the roof for a secret smoking session while she ponders a solution to Odie's problem. It is also here that Odie questions Verena about her private life. She responds, "I lust for no one," before jokingly(?) adding, "not even you." Interestingly, romantic music plays in the background which seems more fitting for a slow dance than two friends smoking. I'll also add that while Verena is like Neil in her determination to help her grumpy and isolated roommate, it is Odie who watches her roommate a lot while she's looking away.

2) Odette's reunion with her boyfriend - Odette, like Todd, is fundamentally changed by the attention of her roommate. Dennis asks if she's gotten taller, to which she responds "no, I'm the same," but her statement is soon contradicted. As Odie begins to "do what I was going to before I got caught," it is the echo of Verena's words from their first DAR meeting that causes her to put the breaks on everything:

"Even if you got pregnant I'd marry you"

"Why?"

"I've imagined it, haven't you?"

"We'd live in a colonial with two cars and a collie?" [Sarcastic]

"Sounds okay to me."

His response to Verena's words changes something for Odie. She pushes him away to ask, "do you believe in a centralised government or state's rights?" Her ambitions have altered during her time at Miss Goddard's, and her new dreams are bound up with the influence of her roommate, Verena Von Stefan, whose voice lingers in her mind even in a supposedly private and long-awaited moment between herself and her boyfriend.

The influence of an outgoing and passionate roommate on their grumpier, and more withdrawn new roommate is clear in the above images. Neil is the first to stand on Keating's desk in class, and when Todd steps into Neil's role as the leader of the Dead Poets he takes that step by standing on the desk in salute to Keating. Likewise, Odie is inspired by Verena as she stands where her roommate had once chopped wood as a punishment for her scheming earlier in the film. Her stance, alongside her dialogue, recall her lost roommate whose role she takes on by calling the DAR to action with a new plan to achieve Verena’s aims.

3) Verena's expulsion (aka the mirror to Neil's death)

After a tearful goodbye and a group hug with the rest of the DAR, Verena is left alone to pack until Odette enters. Immediately, Verena makes a bitter joke about Dennis. When Odie tries to correct her Verena fires back, "at least you'll have the St. Ambrose boys to keep you company." Rather than being drawn into an argument Odie sees Verena's hurt and steps into her space instead of backing away. Ignoring the events (or lack thereof) with Dennis, she focuses on the schemes that she had initially disagreed with, but had meant a lot to Verena.

✨And this is the moment I have no hetero explanation for✨

After a final hug goodbye, Odie licks her bottom lip before reaching out to stroke Verena's hair and cheek as she turns to walk away. Uh...Ms. Kernochan, how else am I supposed to read that?

Further ambiguity occurs when Verena appears in the closing scene. Odie holds Verena lightly by the wrist as she pulls her to talk away from her new boyfriend, Frosty. The scene soon changes to follow Tinka, but the cliche rom-com ending of Tinka and Snake riding off into the sunset is replaced with a close-up shot of Verena and Odette. The former roommates stand together and laugh while an excerpt of the song 'Girlfriends for Life' plays over the footage. Slowly, the circular framing zooms in around their faces until the screen goes black. Is this gal pals as the song lyrics indicate (written by the film's director & writer Sarah Kernochan), or is there room for some gal pals coding in the audience's eyes?

Following this blank screen is an epilogue detailing the future of each character, and in a plot twist, it reveals Tinka Parker's queerness.

Tinka's relationship with Snake and its commentary on social class and rebellion are discussed in part one. In it, I suggest that Tinka's attraction to Snake is rooted in his differences to the boys her Mother introduces to her. While this is a strong reading, I have an alternative idea. What if her attraction to Snake's difference is a precursor to the realisation that it isn't just wealthy sons of family friends that she isn't interested in, it's all boys.

Does her coming out mirror the structure of the film? Riding into the sunset is part of the same heterosexual, rom-com narrative that has defined her relationship with Snake. This expected narrative is only subverted later on, so does this reflect Tinka's own process of following the social script until the producation's end? Is this a commentary on comp-het? Or is Tinka bisexual? Or is it simply another 90s gay joke?

-

Are there endless dps parallels in this film or am I just overanalysing?

More context for Odie/Todd and Verena/Neil along with the analysis of Tinka Parker and Snake is coming in part one. But for now any thoughts? Theories?

[cleanlenins]

Ectober Day 4: Glitter

Bottled Beauty: Reasonable Rates

A new shop opens in the mall. It sells amazing products that make you more beautiful. The prices are fair, as Paulina finds out.

AO3

Warnings: None

A new store opened in the Amity Park Mall, and no one knew how it got there.

One day, there was nothing there but a wide expanse of plaster wall, adorned with a few flyers taped and torn. The mall closed down at half past eight. The guards and workers closed down by nine. Doors locked and no one entered.

When security opened the doors again the next morning, they stood in awe of the new addition. Wide glass windows displayed a varied assortment of unusual goods. Shiny bottles of makeup and perfume. Glittering combs and brushes. Sparkling collections of hair pins and clips. Face masks and nail polish and hair oil and scented powders.  Jewelry of every type sparkled in the bright led lights that flooded the store. Beautifully embroidered scarves and accessories were hung with meticulous care along the walls.

Security was flabbergasted. They had heard nothing about this store. Nothing reported to them. They called it in, asking CBL if it was legit. The radio replied that yes, all paperwork was in order.

Bottled Beauty was open for business.

Paulina was frequently at the mall. What better place was there for her to be? There were so many stores for her to peruse, so many things to buy. People could marvel at her perfection. And the Ghost Boy tended to appear there all too often. A bonus. As familiar as she was with the mall's set-up, she immediately noticed the new store. She smiled in delight when she saw the products through the window and eagerly walked in.

It was even better than what she had imagined. Paulina was awestruck. She merely stood there, eyes drifting from item to item.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A voice asked. Paulina turned at the sound. A person stood there. Paulina could not tell if they were a man or a woman, but she marveled. They were beautiful, dark hair framing their face with a waterfall of curls. Lovely green eyes sparkled with glitter eyeshadow, smiling wide with perfectly full lips. They stood there, dressed in a glittering button down shirt, a small box in their hand.

“Oh, I was just looking. I’ve never been here before. It’s amazing,” Paulina whispered reverently. The glittering person nodded.

“Thank you. We here at Bottled Beauty pride ourselves in spreading beauty at a reasonable rate. What is worse than looking at an ugly world?” The employee grinned as they sat the box on the counter. Paulina nodded in agreement. “Was there anything you were looking for in particular?”

Paulina shook her head.

The employee hummed, tapping their finger against their chin as they examined her. Paulina fidgeted under the stare, but was once more mesmerized by the brilliant green eyes. They walked closer to her, merely inches away. Paulina stood straighter as they got closer. The employee’s eyes gleamed as they stared down.

“My dear, do you know you are very nearly perfect?” They purred. Paulina blushed.

“Really? I mean, of course I am,” She preened. The employee grinned again, green eyes bright. They reached up and gently grasped a strand of hair.

“Only nearly, my dear. But we can fix that,” The employee clarified. Paulina could not bring herself to be offended. “You have such thick hair. So dark, like the night. Many people would be jealous to have such hair. But it must be so difficult to manage. The frizz alone would be a full time job. Am I wrong?”

Paulina thought back to the hours she had spent on taming her hair. How difficult it was every morning to get the perfect style. How she had to pay for so many conditioning treatments to keep it from puffing up in an unmanageable mess.

“You’re right,” Paulina said. The glittering person dropped the strand of hair and stepped away.

“I have just the thing,” They called over their shoulder, walking into the store. Paulina hurried to follow. They stopped at a display of different combs. The employee plucked one, showing it to Paulina.

“Comb your hair with this and you will be able to style it any way you wish,” They said. Paulina’s eyes widened in wonder. “Whether you choose to wear it curly, or straight. Up or down. It will go exactly as you want it.”

“That sounds too good to be true.”

“But true nonetheless. If you are unsatisfied, you can always return it.”

Paulina wrinkled her brow.

“How much?” She asked. The employee tilted their head.

“For you, I would take a laugh,” They said. Paulina blinked in confusion.

“A laugh? You just want me to laugh? That’s all?” Paulina repeated in disbelief.

“At Bottled Beauty, we believe in reasonable rates. A fair price for fair folk,” The employee put their hand over their heart. “And we so crave perfection, something you are so close to already.”

Paulina laughed in delight at the compliment, given from someone so pretty. The store owner handed her the comb and bid her farewell.

Paulina combed her hair with the comb, and wondered at the results. Her hair was perfectly shiny after only one stroke. She preened as her classmates gawked, tossing her hair over her shoulder for emphasis. Dale was so starstruck that he walked into the school’s front door, tripping all the way down the stairs. All of the A-list laughed at his expense. Except Paulina.

She returned again to Bottle Beauty, quickly looking for the employee.

“We thought you would be back,” A voice whispered right next to her ear. She turned eagerly.

“The comb was perfect, so I had to come back,” Paulina said. The employee laughed.

“We are glad you are satisfied,” The employee chuckled. They examined her again. “Your skin is nearly flawless, my dear. But I am sure you already knew of the flaw there?”

Paulina touched the mole on her cheek, the one her Papa never let her get rid of. That makeup could not hide. She had played it off over the years, but still it grated on her nerves to see it in the mirror. The employee led her to another aisle, this one filled with different creams. They grabbed a selection.

“Cover your face in this cream, and all blemishes will be removed, no matter how big or small,” They held the cream out with a flourish.

“I didn’t know anything like that existed,” Paulina said happily, looking over the cream. “How much?”

“For you, my dear, how about some cheer. You seem the type to be a cheerleader, yes?” The employee said. “Does that seem a fair price to you?”

“It’s a bit weird, but sure,” Paulina said. She gave the employee her best Casper High cheer, to which they applauded with enthusiasm.

Paulina hurried from the shop to try out her new cream. It worked like magic, her complexion even more perfect than she had ever dreamed. The mole was erased away as if it were never there. The few pimple scars she had concealed were gone as well. It even erased a small scar she had on her finger, just from where she had applied it. She wanted to dance around her room with joy, to cheer this new development in her life. But she didn’t.

Paulina returned again. The employee was leaning against the counter when she entered.

“It is so good to see you again,” The employee cheered her entrance. Paulina grinned back at them, showing off where her mole used to be. The employee eyed it with approval. “How can I help you today?”

“How do you think you can help me?” Paulina teased. The employee laughed brightly, smiling back at Paulina with fondness.

“I wonder if any have come as close to perfect as you, my dear. Let’s see how I can help,” The employee gently held Paulina’s hand and spun her in a slow circle. “My dear, there is only one thing that mars your perfection. Follow me.”

The employee led Paulina once more into the store, hand still clasped in hand. They came to a display of different makeup. The employee picked up a small container of eyeshadow. It glittered. The employee held it next to their own eye. It matched the shade they wore.

“As you can see, I definitely recommend it,” The employee said. “Wear this, and you will show no signs of aging. You could be sixty, and you will look as you are now. It may be one of our pricier products, but you will not be disappointed.”

Paulina looked at the small palette with greed.

“How much?”

“For you, my dear, I want only your name,” The employee said.

“That’s fair. My name is [        ]” [       ] said, an uncomfortable feeling rippling over her skin as she took the small palette.

“I am glad you are satisfied,” Paulina responded with a laugh, green eyes glittering with joy and something more.

Bottled Beauty: Reasonable Rates

Fair Price for Fair Folk.