#probably will read fics about them afte

[ariiiloves]

Today was an awful day

I'm gonna watch beauty and the beast

[senseofnewness]

https://www.tumblr.com/senseofnewness/759188575996837888/double-fault

do you think… it’s okay if not… you could write a little blurb on when she finally let patrick fuck her ass? hehe

original fic here (this can be read on its own but it's just smut)

double fault - bonus [nsfw]

With your IUD out, your body had begun to surge with hormones again, and it felt like they were taking over. You could sense that you were ovulating, and instead of seeking your husband’s company, all you could think about was feeling Patrick deep inside you. It was an intense need, almost animalistic, way more urgent than you usually craved him, and it frustrated you, especially after his smug comments about your life choices. Sure, he had apologized, but you had not forgiven him. You had every intention of giving him the cold shoulder for the next week or so, but instead, you found yourself at his doorstep, knocking with an insistence that embarrassed you.

After a minute of waiting, impatience got the better of you. You knew he was home, his car was parked in the driveway. He was probably just deeply asleep. It was still only 11 am, after all. For Patrick, that was a perfectly normal hour to be still in bed. You fumbled under the rug for the spare key, something you had done countless times before, and let yourself in. The thought crossed your mind that he might have some company, too busy fucking another to answer the door. Your heartbeat quickened at the idea of it, and with each step into the quiet house, you braced yourself for what you might find. 

Once inside, you felt a wave of relief, no grunts or moans echoed from the bedroom, just the soft sound of Patrick's quiet snoring. You slipped off your shoes, moving on your tiptoes toward the bedroom. There he was, sprawled naked across the bed, his perfect back facing you, muscles relaxed in sleep. A smile tugged at your lips at the sight of him so vulnerable, so at peace. And at the fact that he was flashing his crack at you, this time unintentionally, for a change.

Quietly, you stripped off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile before you slid underneath the sheets. Wanting to feel him closer, you wrapped one arm around his broad back, sneaking the other under his head and draping it around his neck. You nestled your head against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. He didn’t stir at your touch, just mumbled something incoherent. “Patrick…” You whispered into his ear, your breath warm against his skin. Your hands roamed across his chest, fingers brushing over his pecs, giving them a teasing squeeze. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes remaining closed, sleep still lingering on him. “This is your neighbor.” You teased, leaning in closer, your lips brushing his ear. “The grandma?” He murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness. “Yes.” You whispered again, nibbling on his earlobe, your tongue tracing the outline of his ear. “Mmh, always knew you were kinky.” He replied, a lazy smile on his face and his mouth slightly open in bliss.

Playing with his ears was a guaranteed way to get Patrick’s attention. You let your fingers trail down his stomach, teasingly following the line of hair leading to his crotch. “For a second, I thought you were that girl.” He murmured, guiding your hand lower, his touch encouraging you to explore down his happy trail. “What girl?” You asked, deliberately skimming his pubic bone with your fingertips. “The clingy one who’s always coming back for more…” He added with a smirk. You frowned at his words. Clingy? Was that how he saw you? You weren’t clingy. Right? “Sounds awful.” You sighed, pulling your hand away from his lower abdomen. Patrick seized your hand, gripping it firmly. “No, I actually love it. She makes me so hard.” He confessed. You nestled your face into his neck, smiling. He loved it. He didn’t like it. He loved it. Or at least, he said he did. Maybe it was all sweet talk because he was hard and horny, maybe he did mean it. After all, he had not gotten rid of you yet. You peppered his neck with warm kisses but kept your hand withdrawn. He whimpered at the loss. Before he could protest further, you spat into your hand and wrapped it around his length, starting to stroke him. A deep moan escaped him as you worked him over. “Damn, grandma.” He groaned. You laughed softly, continuing your ministrations as you used your free hand to pull his face closer to yours. You pressed your lips against his, pulling him into a deep, urgent kiss. Morning breath and all, you didn’t care. You craved the feel of his mouth, the warmth of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. The thought that your kiss was the first thing he tasted upon waking, even before he had a chance to brush his teeth, turned you on. It was crazy how things that once repulsed you : sweat, the taste of cigarettes, morning breath, hairs, and even cum, now drove you wild when it came to Patrick.

You traced your fingertips along his jawline, lightly scratching the coarse hairs of his beard, while your other hand worked overtime on his cock. Patrick's hand slid down to grab his sack, fondling it in sync with your strokes. His mouth drifted from your lips, latching onto your chin as he sucked on it, leaving a trail of warm drool that marked you as his own. His tongue trailed down to your neck as you tried to sneak a glance over his shoulder at his cock. With Patrick, saliva was always part of the equation, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You tightened your grip around his hard length, tugging at it eagerly. Fisting Patrick’s cock was usually a way to coax a quick orgasm out of him when time was short, but now you knew it was likely the only thing he would allow, with penetration off the table. So you took your sweet time, gripping and sliding with deliberate care. His fingers dug into his balls, almost squishing them. That was usually a sign that he was close. Relief washed over you because your wrist was beginning to grow tired from the motion.

He finally came with a low grunt that made you grin as he glazed your hand, his stomach, and the sheets with his cum. You leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips before gently releasing your grip on his cock. Raising your hand to your mouth, you licked it clean of his semen, savoring the tangy taste. Once he caught his breath, he turned around, flipping you onto your back. “Oh, so it was you all along.” He murmured, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face as he crawled on top of you, pinning your hands above your head. “You know that old cunt made a noise complaint.” He said, sitting on your stomach. “The grandma?” You asked, licking the remnants of cum from your lower lip, your heart racing with thrill. He nodded, trailing his hands down your arms, making you giggle when he lightly brushed against your armpits. His hands squeezed your breasts tightly before he leaned down, lifting himself off of you, trailing his tongue from the middle of your ribcage to the spot just below your belly button. He spread your knees apart, kissing his way to your core, where he paused, spreading your folds apart to reveal your clit and entrance. You used to feel shy under his gaze, but now you only felt sexy, empowered by the way he looked at you like a starving man. He buried his face between your legs, sloppily devouring you with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. “Patrick…” You gasped, instinctively trying to close your thighs around his head, the sensation overwhelming. In the back of your mind, a small fear lingered that he might remember you were off birth control and suddenly pull away without a warning, but for now, all you could do was lose yourself in the pleasure he was giving you.

Getting eaten out by Patrick was always a messy affair of sucking and slurping. He didn’t just lick you carefully, he simply made out with your cunt. He would suck on your clit until it was swollen and red, the skin nearly bursting, while his tongue dove deep inside you, lapping up your juices with eager, sloppy strokes. His face would be drenched with your juices, and his eyes never left yours, watching every moan and gasp that escaped your lips. Seeing your face as you came on his tongue was his favorite part. Then, he started tentatively flicking his tongue over your other hole. You instinctively tried to squeeze your cheeks in resistance, but he simply spread them wider, determined to get a closer taste. The tip of his tongue tickled your insides, and you whimpered. “I want you…” You tried to distract him from venturing any further. “Are you going to let me put it in then?” He asked, raising his head to meet your eyes. So, he was still fixated on the idea of fucking your ass? “Patrick…” You sighed, closing your legs in front of him, trying to put an end to his idea. “I can make you feel really good.” He murmured, gently prying your legs open again. “I didn’t clean myself.” You tried to argue, searching for any excuse to deter him. “I just had my tongue on your asshole. Believe me, I really don’t care.” He replied, his lips curling into an amused smirk. “Please?” He pleaded, his expression turning into a sad pout, as if he was about to give you those irresistible puppy eyes. “Patrick…” You repeated, trying to hold your ground, but he wasn’t giving up. “Please? I’ll eat your pussy two times a day in exchange. No, make it three!” He bargained, as if it was some chore for him when, in reality, he usually did it without you even having to ask. “Please?” He finally begged, his voice softer, more desperate this time. “Fine.” You sighed, finally giving in and leaned back on the bed, covering your face with a pillow. Truth be told, you didn’t want him to see the grin spreading across your face. You had finally gotten him to beg for it, just like you wanted.

You peeked from under the pillow as he moved over you, grabbing the lube from his bedside drawer. The anticipation in his eyes made your heart race as he poured the slippery liquid onto his fingers, spreading it carefully over your hole. "You ready?" He asked, his voice a mix of eagerness and concern. You nodded, though your nerves were on edge. "I'm just using my fingers for now." He assured you, dropping the bottle aside. He slowly slid his index finger inside you, pushing gently until it was buried to the knuckle. You were used to feeling his fingers brush against that spot, but this was different, it wasn’t just a joint, it was his entire finger, and instead of pleasure, it mostly felt like you needed to push him out. “Fuck… I don’t think it’s going to fit. You’re going to swallow me whole.” He muttered, biting his lower lip as he watched his finger thrust in and out of you. Instinctively, you clenched around him, hoping your tightness might make him reconsider and shift his focus back to your cunt. But instead of scaring him, it only seemed to fuel his desire. “Babe… You’re going to break it.” He whimpered, glancing up at you with a playful pout. He withdrew his finger briefly before placing both his index and middle fingers at your entrance, pushing them in slowly. The stretch was more intense, discomfort setting in as you felt yourself being opened wider than ever before. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he spread his fingers apart like a pair of scissors, stretching you even further.

Two fingers weren’t even close to how big Patrick was. Sure, it was a small victory that they fit, but there was still a long way to go. “Pat…” You whined, closing your eyes as the discomfort began to edge toward pain. “I know, baby… You’re doing so good.” He murmured, his voice soothing as he tried to encourage you. You grabbed the pillow again, biting down on it as he curled his fingers inside you, flicking them gently. The sensation was too much. “I don’t like it!” You blurted out, your body instinctively trying to push his fingers out. He immediately withdrew his fingers, giving you a moment to recover. You uncovered your face at the sudden loss of contact, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. “I promise it will feel good.” He assured you. He sounded sincere but anything felt somewhat good to Patrick, even intense pain. “Easy for you to say, you’re a guy! It’s supposed to feel good!” You whined, throwing the pillow at him in a moment of exasperation. He laughed, easily dodging the pillow as it landed on the floor. “Trust me” He said softly, planting tender kisses along the inside of your thighs. “I would never hurt you.” You couldn’t help but melt a little at his words. You knew he cared about you, he just had his own unique ways of showing it. “Alright.” You whispered, your eyes still shut, bracing yourself for what was next. Without hesitation, his two fingers were back inside you, gently but firmly working to spread you a bit wider. The stretch was still uncomfortable, but his reassuring touch made it more bearable.

After a minute of fingering, Patrick decided that adding a third finger might be okay. But it wasn’t. The burn was barely tolerable, making you whimper in pain. He immediately began trailing soft kisses from your pubic bone up to your throat, trying to distract you from the discomfort. “Pat…” You moaned, your voice tinged with desperation. You wanted to scream at him to just go ahead and slide in, to get it over with and endure the pain all at once rather than this slow, agonizing stretch. “I think I’m ready.” You said, though you knew it was a lie. Although the slow torture of his fingers had you second-guessing whether you could handle him, you wanted this to end as quickly as possible. Patrick’s eyes held a mixture of curiosity and concern as he spread his fingers wider one last time before pulling them out. “Turn around then.” He instructed, his voice firm yet gentle. You frowned, hesitation evident. “Can’t we do it like this?” You asked, gesturing to the bed where you were still lying on your back. “I want to watch what you’re doing.” You admitted, almost mumbling the confession. You didn’t want him to think you were suddenly enjoying the idea of it. “You don’t trust me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “I do.” You reassured him, meeting his gaze. “I just want to see why you think it’s so hot.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. Without a word, Patrick lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders. He grabbed his cock, generously coating it with lube, and rubbed the tip against your ass. “Can you see like this?” He asked, making sure you get to enjoy the show as well. You looked down at your crotch. While you still didn’t get a full view of your asshole, you could see his cock pressed against your entrance. You nodded, and he began to push his tip inside you. The intrusion was almost too much to bear, and you wanted to scream, but Patrick covered your mouth with his own, kissing you softly as he eased himself in.

You quickly grabbed his face, pulling him closer, feeling your eyes well up with tears from the stretch, despite Patrick’s soothing kisses. The sensation of fullness grew as he slowly pushed deeper, eventually reaching the depths of your guts. He paused once fully inside, allowing you to adjust to the feeling. Patrick pulled away just enough to glance at where your bodies joined, the sight causing his cock to throb inside you. “Fuck… I can’t believe it…” He moaned, his voice thick with awe. He sealed his lips over yours in a desperate attempt to muffle the scream that threatened to escape as he began to thrust into you. He thrust into your ass in a way that was completely different from how he did with your vagina. Rather than the long strokes and the pulling in and out, his thrusts were quick and short, never fully withdrawing. You gasped as his lower abdomen repeatedly bumped against your clit, the sensation being the only truly enjoyable part of it. “H-how does it… feel?” You managed to ask, though your breaths came in shallow gasps due to the awkward position. “So fucking tight.” He groaned, burying his face in your neck as he quickened his pace. Passion had overtaken him, with your comfort now coming second. The pain had dulled into something different, an odd sensation, as if something significant was happening, but not quite in the right place.

“Am I doing alright?” You asked, watching him as he thrust into you. You bit your lower lip, struggling to focus on the sensation. You wanted to be active and make him feel good, but you found it hard to move under his weight. “You’re perfect, baby…” His words gave you butterflies. You knew he was praising your ability to take him, but you chose to overlook it. The fact that he saw you as perfect was more than enough to make the fucking way more stimulating. “Does it feel good for you too?” He asked, sweat glistening on his forehead. You nodded, eager to make him happy. In truth, you liked knowing that he was enjoying himself, and that alone filled you with a sense of satisfaction. The penetration itself was tolerable, neither overwhelming nor entirely pleasurable, but it was enjoyable enough. For a moment, you thought that if you concentrated on Patrick hard enough, you might have been able to orgasm. So you studied him intently, observing his closed eyes and mouth hung open in bliss. From his long eyelashes, to the freckles scattered across his face and especially those on his lips, to his ears, which always drove you wild. Just when you thought this might be only a pleasurable experience for Patrick, he slid his fingers between you and began rubbing your clit. “Don’t bullshit me.” He said softly. You were glad you couldn’t hide anything from Patrick, he knew you better than anyone.

The sounds of his heavy sack slapping against your ass echoed in the room, mingling with your heavy breathing and Patrick’s moans. The old neighbor next door would probably have something to complain about again in the days to come. Patrick's fingers worked inside you while his thumb deliciously circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your lower tummy, making you smile with satisfaction. Now, you could fully enjoy yourself. You leaned your head back as he covered your neck with kisses, his teeth grazing your skin. “Patrick…” You moaned, clenching tightly around him. You placed your hand on top of his, guiding him to stroke you faster and apply more pressure against your clit. You could feel his cock driving into you with the tips of your fingers, as you were practically fucking his hand like it was your own. It didn’t take long before you were on the edge. You were always able to make yourself come within minutes. “C-c-coming…” You mumbled, tightening your grip on his hand and squeezing him hard as you moaned out his name. “Fuck, baby…” He gasped, his thighs contracting as his release grew closer. Just a few more thrusts, and he was there. “Me too…” He muttered just before he released his thick seed into you with a grunt, his body shuddering in the aftermath.

After a moment of stillness, he withdrew from you, carefully lowering your legs from his shoulders before collapsing on top of you, utterly breathless. You instinctively wrapped your trembling legs and arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. Nestling your head into the crook of his neck, you focused on calming your heart, which felt as if it might burst from your chest. That was it. You had crossed every boundary with Patrick. You were completely his and no one had ever owned you like this.

Maybe anal sex wasn’t so bad after all.

[ddesertmoon]

Star Wars Fic Recs Feat. Time Travel

I think this is my favorite Star Wars trope… maybe just because sw is a tragedy and i want the characters to be happy.. maybe because I’m a sucker for the “reveal moment”… i don’t know.

Hopefully you all enjoy these as well!

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(All fics are Gen unless otherwise specified!)

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Back From the Future: Episode VI The Clone Wars by Ariel_Sojourner

“In which Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader travel back in time together to the Clone Wars era, have amazing adventures, and save the galaxy.”

Basically, Luke and Vader time travel and take over a clone battalion to change the major battles of the war. This is. A masterpiece. It’s insane. It feels like an actual, published story when you read it. It is told in a nonlinear way, so if you’re not into that, you probably won’t enjoy this. But I promise it’s one of the greatest fanfictions I’ve ever read, and there’s a reason it’s first on this list.

(Padme/Anakin and Obi-Wan/Satine, though neither ship is a focal point of the story)

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there but for the grace of god by wanderlove

“There’s nothing particularly remarkable about Sullust.

Well, except for Obi-Wan’s time-traveling son. But, you know. Apart from that.”

I LOVE this fic. Young Luke is sent into the clone wars, and since he’s been raised by Obi-Wan on Tatooine, everyone assumes that he’s Obi’s kid. His appearance changes everything by causing the people around him to reveal deep secrets that would otherwise have led to the fall of the Jedi.

(Padme/Anakin and referenced Obi-Wan/Satine)

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Old Masters, New Tricks by soft_but_gremlin

“Sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself on Lothal in the middle of the Imperial Era. He has no idea why he's here or what all these white-clad troopers are for, but after a rocky start with a little Mandalorian, he finds out that his friend Luminara is in trouble and vows to rescue her.

Sabine Wren has no idea what this other Mandalorian is doing on Lothal, but he looks just like former rebel Korkie Kryze and he's got lightsabers on his belt. He's either going to be a fierce but foolish ally, or the Empire's paying bounty hunters to track down Jedi.”

One of the few SW fics I’ve read where characters are sent FORWARD in time! This one is really great, and I reread it all the time. The heartache Obi-Wan feels when he remembers that all his friends are dead and the heartache KANAN feels when Obi-Wan does something that reminds him of the Jedi…. Amazing.

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Free Jedi to Good Home by soft_but_gremlin

“Jango Fett expected several things from this hunt on Galidraan. Three hypothermic Jedi children stumbling into his camp was not one of those things.”

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka (and maybe a few others, later on 👀) are sent back in time to change the outcome of the massacre at Galidraan. This one is REALLY great and I especially love the sequel (which is currently unfinished but very suspenseful and exciting)

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The Making of Mavericks by AppoApples

“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't let her just walk out into the galaxy without a lifeline. With Commander Cody and Captain Rex at his side, Obi-Wan tries to give Ahsoka some well meant advice. But the Force was listening and decided these four souls needed to blaze a better path. With all that has happened to them, waking up twenty-five years in the past shouldn't be a big deal, right?”

Time travel with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, AND Cody! FOUR people. Crazy. The classic “Obi-Wan is sent back to his childhood to change things before Anakin ever enters the picture” fic. It greatly surpassed my expectations for a time travel fic though! One of the best for sure.

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Legacy by myrlendi (thehistorygeek)

“Three months after the Battle of Endor, Luke Skywalker goes in search of a rumoured Jedi temple in a secluded part of the Mid Rim. He finds within the temple nothing but a strange artifact, which unexpectedly brings him much closer to the Jedi of old than he ever thought he would be.

When Luke fails to return from his mission, Leia goes after him, retracing his steps to the ancient temple — and to the past, to the time of the Clone Wars and the waning years of the Old Republic. Under suspicion by the Jedi Order, the twins struggle to find a way back to their own time while trying to keep their knowledge of the future from affecting the past.”

Okay, time travel with Luke Skywalker is great (one of my favorite things!), but time travel with Luke AND Leia??? Perfect. I love when she’s included.. it usually leads to some very interesting interactions between her and Anakin.

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Luminous We Are by AppoApples

“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi is filled with regrets when the Padawan he chooses is assigned to Anakin. When he discovers that it was Yoda's meddling that had prevented him from being a Padawan in his own youth, the betrayal runs deep. Wondering what could have been, a trick of the Force throws him back in time, where he learns to put his trust in the Force, not the High Council.

Redemption of Qui-Gon Jinn had he not been forced to take a Padawan before he was ready, and where the Order learns to take another course that put quite a wrench in the Sith plans. Start of the Clone Wars to 44BBY AU of the Apprentice books. Cheeky Obi-Wan and Mandalorian shenanigans.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi being adopted by Mandalorians is QUITE a popular trope in this fandom for some reason… I think it’s actually a tag on Ao3 now (don’t quote me on that). Anyway, this fic is one of the few where the time traveler is unable to rely on (very much of) their knowledge from the future.

(Obi-Wan/Quinlan)

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The Kenobi Scandal by AppoApples

“One moment they are speeding on their way to Mos Eisley, only to be hit by a Force instigated sandstorm, and the next thing Ben Kenobi knows is he wearing his old armour with the Jedi insignia and Luke can't find the droids. What's a Jedi to do when he finds himself back before the fall of the Republic? Come up with a cover story more scandalous than time travel: ‘Luke, this is Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, this is my son, Luke Kenobi.’”

Amazing! I really like when we see the potential Luke has with some formal Jedi training. And although there is a cover story for Luke’s (and Obi-Wan’s, technically) time travel, there are still some lovely emotional outbursts :)

(Obi-Wan/Satine and Luke/Ahsoka)

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Gone Are The Days by theycallmesuperboy

“While investigating an ancient Jedi distress signal in the Outer Rim, Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles are mysteriously sent back in time to the last days of the Republic, and stranded on Naboo, meeting two people Luke could only have ever dreamed of meeting: his parents.

Only, due to Luke's "quick thinking," the two are lead to believe that Luke and Wedge are just like them: a secretly married couple, due to Luke's status as a Jedi.”

Luke gets an opportunity to really get to know his dead parents, and Wedge gets to kiss Luke. I’m a sucker for the fake dating trope lmao, and combined with time travel? Zoo wee mama!

(Luke/Wedge and Padme/Anakin)

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Significant Brain Damage by AppoApples

“Luke Skywalker finds himself in the past as Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan finds himself retraining his old apprentice who has permanent amnesia while also taking on Anakin's Padawan, being a General, a Council member -during a Galactic Civil War, and fighting for a Republic he's beginning to lose faith in. Clone Wars, no paradox, no easy fix it.”

I love this one so much. Luke has to kind of pretend to be Anakin.. but everyone around him just thinks he’s had some amnesia and a major personality change. I LIVE for the “why is Anakin so much nicer now” moments.

(Padme/Sabe and Obi-Wan/Satine)

Also you may notice that this is the FOURTH fic by AppoApples on this list… I love their ideas so much.

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May Death Find You Alive by Must_Be_Thursday

“Anakin finds himself trapped in a nightmare, reliving the same day. He tries. He tries to change things, but it always ends the same.

With a broken bond and a dead best friend.

He's not sure how many times he'll be able to watch the life leave Obi-Wan before he loses his mind.”

Let’s switch it up! Groundhog Day style time loops are always fun, and this one saves the universe! So yay! Fr though, Anakin learns to trust Obi-Wan and it changes everything.

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The More I Live The More I See This Life is Not About Me by K_R_Closson

“After touching a mysterious artifact, Cody's general is suddenly a child with the memories to match. Cody has to coax a suspicious adolescent back to base without alerting the nearby Separatists of their presence.

Reversing his general's age an easier fix than Cody thought it would be, but he didn't factor in the possibility that Obi-Wan might not want to give up his self in order to become General Kenobi again. It'd be easier to think if he didn't have an insidious voice in his head, whispering to him to distrust the Jedi.”

This one is technically just de-aging, with Obi-Wan becoming his thirteen year old self, but I consider it similar enough to time travel to be included, and it has a lot of the same tropes. It’s very well written, and the dialogue flows excellently with the descriptions.

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what is necessary (for love and war) by hellowkatey

“His fingers reach for the hilt that has become as familiar as his own after that three-day journey back from Melida/Daan. He couldn’t stand to put the boy's saber down until he reached his quarters and reality finally set in.

Obi-Wan didn’t come back with him. Once again, he is without a Padawan.

The moment cool durasteel meets his fingertips, the overwhelming presence of Obi-Wan slams into him so hard the room begins to spin. Qui-Gon sinks to the floor, saber clutched in both hands and pressed tight against his chest as though it’s actually Obi-Wan he’s hugging.

‘You have to go back.’”

This time it’s Qui-Gon who is sent forward through time, into the clone wars. The time travel in this fic doesn’t really change anything (as in, it’s not a fix-it), but it gives some great insight into Qui-Gon’s character.

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Chosen One (derogatory) by annathecrow

“Asajj Ventress, the chosen savior of the galaxy. Force help us all.”

VENTRESS is the one to go back in time. Isn’t that crazy??? Isn’t that an insane premise?????? It was SO fun to read.

(Ventress/Shmi)

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One Step Forward, Two Steps Back by K_R_Closson

“Ahsoka Tano told Din to bring Grogu to the Seeing Stone on Tython, and Grogu would be able to call out to other Jedi. Ahsoka Tano did not say that other Jedi might call out to him or that the pillar of blue light was actually a type of planetary transportation.

Din ends up on a planet he's never heard of with nothing but his armor and his child. A lot has changed but his mandate hasn't. He must reunite Grogu with one of his kind. But first, he has to help these ade win a civil war against the dar'buir who abandoned them.”

Din travels back to the war on Melida/Daan, where one of our favorite padawans was struggling to lead the Young to victory (hint: he’s a fan favorite who almost always ends up being adopted by Mandalorians). I really like this one! It’s less about changing the past, and more about character growth and relationships.

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Bonus: Incomplete Fics

I wanted to separate these from the fics above, which are all complete.

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from this moment hangs eternity by EvanHart

“If Luke – Force, his son – was talking about slave chips, something must have gone wrong in the future.

Or, a six-year-old Luke ends up in the middle of the Clone Wars, meets his father, and changes the fate of the galaxy on the way.”

I’m a real sucker for child Luke. Gotta say. He’s ADORABLE. and moments of gut-wrenching sadness interrupted by his little sunshine smiles?? Oh my god?

Chapters: 10/15

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Oya Manda’lor! by Cloud__Chaser

“After giving up his child to Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin has found himself without a purpose. Filling in the gaps by completing bounties for Boba Fett, Din comes across a strange artifact that leaves him stranded in time.

Who knows, maybe Din's complete lack of knowledge of the world outside of the outer rim will lead to the fall of the empire before it even begins...”

Din basically becomes the most admired person on Mandalore in the span of like. A week. after he travels back in time. It’s really funny, and something I like to read when I’m in a good mood!

Chapters: 38/?

(Din/Jaster)

Also, it’s been over a year since this updated (as of the date I’m posting this), so beware, it may or may not be abandoned.

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Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight

“‘Well, looks like we're all Sith Lords, now. I hope you've all been practicing your most menacing laughter for our first run in with the Jedi Council.’

Ben could only sigh and raise a distasteful eyebrow at the cross shaped, red lightsaber he was given. Down the line other students were also handling their new weapons and robes with a raised eyebrow here and quizzical expression there.

‘Really, uncle?’

‘Really. I don't want to compete with the local Jedi population.’

Why did Jedi politics and time travel have to be so difficult?”

Like most Star Wars fans, I’m not a big fan of the sequels (‘somehow, Palpatine returned’ my ass), BUT! This fic, involving a young Ben Solo and old Luke Skywalker, was a lot of fun to read.

Chapters: 13/?

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There is another Skywalker by WabiSabi

“‘They couldn't narrow down the precise relationship due to some strange contamination in the sample. But when they launched a search in the DNA databank they found a match. Reliability of 50%, which only happens between parent-child and—’

‘Siblings,’ Master Kenobi completes, voice faint. ‘Full-blood siblings.’

The clone nods. ‘She was estimated to be around 30-years-old, so by process of exclusion, Leia Solo would be General Skywalker’s older sister by 9 years.’”

This time, it’s just Leia who’s sent to the past! Technically Luke lives as a voice in her head, but it’s pretty much just Leia. Also, I really like the premise that the temple runs a DNA test and assumes that she’s Anakin’s sibling. It’s a lot of fun!

Chapters: 10/?

Also, it’s been over a year since this updated (as of the date I’m posting this), so beware, it may or may not be abandoned.

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Companion of the Ancestors by Omegarose

“Ahsoka finds herself in a strange place, out of contact with Obi-Wan and alone with the twins. The Force feels like it hasn't in years, and she runs into a man who has to be an idiot for the way he's acting like a Jedi two years after Order 66.

((Dooku, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka all meet each other when they're 19 years old. With the addition of the Skywalker twins and a slightly-younger (than Ahsoka remembers him) Yoda.))”

I love Ahsoka, I love Luke and Leia, I love Obi-Wan… I love this fic. All of the secrets and reveals and drama! So much fun!

Chapters: 10/?

You’re not able to read this fic unless you have an Ao3 account, but those are easy to make. If anyone doesn’t know how to make one, I’m happy to make a post explaining the process!

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That’s all, folks! 20 fics is… a lot. And there are A LOT of characters in all that… So, sorry for the exorbitant amount of tags I’ll be using here. Happy reading!

[malk1ns]

january 5 @ hurricanes, 4-3 OT loss

i cannot believe the season is halfway done. i can't believe i've actually written a fic for every single game, for forty-one games. that's crazy. thanks so much to everyone reading along, the comments and tags you leave really do encourage me to keep going—it's hard to work on a big project like this with no positive reinforcement! i love and appreciate you all <3

playing carolina might be boring AF but at least we got this picture of of it, hey? geno is so much bigger than sid it's truly ridiculous.

Sid isn’t very good at hiding what he’s feeling.

Zhenya knows about the narrative, how a Sidney Crosby quote is a lot of words but when you go back and actually read what he said it’s a whole bunch of nothing. That’s probably true; Zhenya doesn’t make a habit of looking up his teammates’ media spots. Answering his own questions and sitting for interviews is enough exposure to reporters, thank you very much.

But long before Zhenya and Sid spoke the same language, Zhenya was able to read Sid like a book.

Sid’s not subtle. When he wants something from you, you’ll know.

And when they’re getting ready to go out for overtime at the Lenovo Center, when Sid ducks his head and looks up at Zhenya through his eyelashes, Zhenya knows exactly what he wants.

It’s nice to catch up with Staalsy after they play the Hurricanes; frankly, it’s Zhenya’s favorite part about facing this damn team. Jordy’s waiting for them outside the visitor’s locker room after Sid is finally done with his cooldown, and they duck down a quiet hallway to chat. Partway through the conversation, Zhenya slings an arm over Sid’s shoulders, casual as anything, and smothers a smirk when Sid not-so-subtly tucks himself into Zhenya’s side.

Jordy doesn’t notice anything. He’s always been oblivious. It’s something Zhenya always appreciated about him. Kris gives them a hairy eyeball, but after so many years he knows when to feign ignorance, even if he’s far more observant than Jordy ever was.

Sid behaves himself on the way back to Pittsburgh. He keeps his hands to himself on the plane, sticking his earbuds in and zoning out on whatever podcast series he’s hooked on this month.

Zhenya taps his way through a few rounds of solitaire, nudging Sid with his knee when the plane begins its descent. When they’re deboarding and Sid makes to grab for his stuff, Zhenya bullies him out of the way, pulling both their bags down from the overhead compartment and slinging them over his shoulders.

Sid goes pink.

Their drive back to Sewickley is quiet, Zhenya navigating the dark streets carefully with one hand spread over Sid’s thigh. Sid’s parents are still in town, will be through the upcoming homestand, so Zhenya takes them up the hills back to his place, pulling into the driveway and throwing Sid’s Range Rover in park.

He crowds behind Sid as they walk into the house, dropping their bags as soon as they clear the threshold so he can get his hands on Sid’s hips, steering him to the staircase over Sid’s protests that they need another protein shake before bed.

(He refrains from making the obvious joke.)

Sid drops his feigned reluctance as soon as they get to the bedroom, turning in Zhenya’s arms and wrapping his arms around Zhenya’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

The first time Sid kissed Zhenya, it took both of them by surprise. It was Zhenya’s second year in the league, and not even any sort of special occasion—they’d just beaten Boston in TD Garden, a hard-won shootout on the first half of a back-to-back with travel in the slog leading up to their too-short Christmas break. He and Sid both had to do media, courtesy of Geno’s two goals and Sid’s three points, and they were the last ones in the locker room after they finally escaped to do their cooldown and get showered.

Zhenya was fumbling with his tie when Sid crossed the room, got up on his toes, and smeared a kiss across Zhenya’s mouth.

They didn’t talk about it for months. There were games to win, after all, and playoffs to push for. They were both determined to have a better showing than they had last season. It wasn’t until after they had to watch the Red Wings raise the Stanley Cup in their own building, after locker clean-out and the last media of the season, that Sid showed up at Zhenya’s door with a determined look on his face.

Their second kiss hadn’t been any more artful than the first. It didn’t take them long to get good at it, though.

Really good. They’ve taken breaks throughout the years, arguments and ego and fear of the future sending one or both of them stomping away from the relationship, and Zhenya’s seen plenty of girls stumble out of dark corners with Sid looking dazed with swollen mouths. He kisses like the world is ending, all-consuming and intense, and Zhenya’s more than happy to fall into it every time.

Sid doesn’t want to just kiss tonight, though. His hand sneaks down and squeezes at Zhenya’s dick through his dress pants, and Zhenya cants his hips forward, letting Sid grope him.

“Fuuuck,” Sid groans, pulling back and looking down between them. Zhenya follows his gaze.

Sid’s not a small guy. He’s broad, with thick arms and legs and big, capable hands, clever fingers that are adept at taking Zhenya apart. His hand on Zhenya’s dick where it’s straining at the fabric, though, looks almost small.

“Jesus,” Sid mutters, stroking a thumb over the head. Zhenya shivers as his dick twitches.

They’re clumsy as they undress, the late hour and a long, heavy game slowing their reflexes, but eventually their clothes are in a pile at the foot of the bed and Zhenya has Sid stretched out on the mattress, pinning his hands over his head with one hand around both wrists.

Sid takes a deep breath, testing Zhenya’s grip. Zhenya watches his throat bob as he swallows and tightens his thighs where they’re around Sid’s hips.

“You’re stay put,” he says to Sid, half an order and half a question, and he can see his words register, leaching into Sid’s body and dropping all the tension from his muscles.

Sid’s hard between them already, dick curving up toward his belly button and damp at the head, and when Zhenya curls his hand around it Sid gasps, craning his chin down so he can look.

Sid’s hands might be big compared to a regular guy, but Zhenya’s put his to shame, and Sid’s dick looks small in his grasp.

Zhenya knows that turns Sid’s crank, even though he’ll never admit to it. Hockey players are all the same, after all, and none of them are going to own up to getting off on their dick looking small, but Zhenya’s never needed Sid to actually say anything to know what he wants.

Sid likes how much bigger Zhenya is than him. He likes the way Zhenya’s hands span his waist like it’s dainty, the way he fits under Zhenya’s arm like Zhenya’s girlfriends used to.

He especially likes Zhenya’s dick.

Zhenya lifts up a little and shifts so that Sid can spread his legs, settling between them and rubbing his dick over Sid’s balls and shaft. Sid props himself up on his elbows, mouth open as he pants for air, hitching his hips up to meet Zhenya’s movements. 

Zhenya spares a moment for regret that they don’t have time to fuck properly until the homestand is over. Sid’s so tight, even after all these years, and sinking into him is the closest to a religious experience that Zhenya’s ever had.

He props his forearms on either side of Sid’s head, leaning down so he’s completely covering Sid’s body, pressing their chests together as he mouths at Sid’s neck. Sid always leaks so much, like the second he gets even a little worked up he’s ready to bust, which means they don’t need lube when they do this.

When they were younger, they used to get off like this every spare minute they had, sneaking off to spare rooms and rubbing up against each other until they came. It only took one instance of having to misappropriate a fancy hand towel in Billy Guerin’s guest bathroom for Zhenya to start carrying around a handful of tissues in his back pocket for quick clean-ups.

They usually take their time now, luxuriating in the privacy of their own homes and the improved technique that comes with experience, but sometimes Zhenya likes to make it quick and dirty, likes to get Sid panting and begging for dick underneath him.

Zhenya can’t give it to him tonight. The waiting will make it better when they have time, though.

Sid’s getting close. His thighs are trembling where they’re locked around Zhenya’s waist, and he’s tossing his head back and forth, little uh-uh-uhs pushing from his chest as he arches his back.

Zhenya pushes himself up a little and rests his hand on Sid’s neck, curling his fingers and pressing his thumb to the hinge of Sid’s jaw. Not much, not enough to actually do anything, but his hand looks enormous at Sid’s throat, and when he increases pressure the tiniest bit, Sid gasps and comes with a shout.

He’s still shivering through his orgasm when Zhenya drags his dick over Sid’s groin, smearing come into his pubic hair, and groans as he finishes on Sid’s stomach.

“Damn,” he says, rolling off to one side. Sid tucks them together, yanking Zhenya’s arm until his hand is splayed low over Sid’s belly.

It’s sticky and kind of gross. Zhenya rubs their come into Sid’s skin, ignoring Sid’s protest.

His hand really does look huge on Sid’s body. Normally he doesn’t think too much about it; he’s aware of how tall he is, how big his dick is, and those facts on their own don’t do much for him. He’s happy to go along with what Sid wants—seeing Sid get off on something is what gets him hottest.

Sid’s a grower, though, and when he’s soft Zhenya can cover his entire groin with his palm.

Sid grunts as Zhenya fondles him, wincing and over-sensitive, but Zhenya ignores it, rolling Sid’s balls in his fingers and palming his soft member.

Yeah, he sees the appeal.

[optimusprimeg1]

After TF Prime Optimus becoming a Titan, I raise to you : TFOne Optimus becoming a Titan !

As Orion Pax, he was used to being short, being cogless and all. He's seen holos and read (stolen) datapads on the Primes in the Archives. He always wondered why Sentinel was not as big as the dead Primes but reasoned Sentinel must just be a more recent one, his transformation and growth has just not progressed far yet...

When they get to the caves and see the gargantuan corpses of the primes, the group is breath taken. The miners barely reaching to their knee joints !!

It's a sport and they have to clamber up on rocks and each other to give energon cubes to the towering Alpha Trion. And even then, they barely have enough for him to correctly come back from his long stasis.

Then the reveal comes. And we know Sentinel has not grown because he isn't a real Prime.

And when Orion is given the Matrix and becomes Optimus Prime, he feels ridiculous and ridiculously tall. Twice his original size and he is now aware his growth has just begun. That and the fact that his very new ground alt-mode will probably completely change at some point in the future...

And from Megatron's perspective, his best friend has always been a bit shorter than him. Then Primus gives him a primordial relic that makes him just a smidge taller than Megatron. And in their next altercation, Optimus is a bit taller. And the next time, he has again grown !

I have actually thought about TFOne for this au but not much at all. More of a “what if…”

For this one, I was thinking the whole growth is only to the Matrix bearers since it is an artifact of Primus. I think it would be a neat idea, though it is just a thought.

It would be funny to see that Sentinel is just a shortie and the rest just tower over his aft. It would most definitely raise questions on his true identity, making the all curious Orion go and discover “the truth”.

Gosh, this au for TFO is just a cool thing to think about because of opportunities. Optimus fighting Megatron for the safety of Iacon and later banished… The next meeting will be a surprise to the both of them. A transformation that both rivals never expected, one’s best friend turned into a tyrant, the other turned into the very thing D-16 hated; a Prime. Just a fight alone against a giant Prime seems really cool.

Part of me wants to write a fic about it however I SUCK at writing. Maybe someday?

[helleboretks]

HAH! Got 'Em!!!

Hello hello hello! First fic in a couple months for my newest fandom Lego Monkie Kid! This is a Lee!Nezha, Lers!Wukong, Mei and MK ticklefic, so if it isn't your forte, no need to read!

(This is Nezha, if anyone wants to gaze upon this absolutely beautiful specimen uwu)

Summary: Wukong wanted to test out if their resident Third Lotus Prince was ticklish. Only Buddha knows what kind of chaos arose from it.

“This is purely experimentative, kid.”

“No it isn’t, Monkey King.”

“Yeaaaaah-no, no it isn’t.”

Mk snorted with a roll of his eyes as Wukong took a few strands of fur from his head, gently blowing on them to produce a few feathers.

“C’mon! You can’t say you’re not curious. I know that look in your eye.” He was right, of course, Mk was pretty curious about this idea too. Would Nezha actually be ticklish? Given that he was reincarnated from a plant-a lotus no less-there had to be something his body did and didn’t replicate from the original, right?

“Has he ever even been tickled before?” Mk wonders aloud, sitting down in the seat next to Wukong. The Noodle Shop was pretty empty today save for his friends and, well obviously, the Lotus Prince himself. Mk’s both surprised and relieved that the man actually found time to take a break, and even felt honored that he’d want to spend it here, with them.

Now he’s wondering how long it’ll be until he regrets it.

“Hmm, not from what I can recall? No???” Monkey King squeaked, looking as if he was seriously racking his brain for some kind of memory. “Yeah no, not from what I can remember.”

“If he’s actually ticklish you’re going to kill him.”

“Oh Pfft, nah he won’t die. You can’t die like that! I think.”

Mk was not about to tell Monkey King that you can, in fact, meet death by tickling. Not right now at least.

No one seemed to notice the little cluster of feathers floating closer and closer to the prince, who found himself in a rather engaging conversation with Tang about some history or other that Mk couldn’t parse out. They both waited with bated breath as he shifted his arms to rest comfortably on the counter.

“Welp, I’ve got nothing to lose.” Famous last words, but alright.

And then the feathers shot into Nezha’s armor.

And look-

LOOK-

The sheer volume of the scream Nezha let out as he flew right off the chair-Mk couldn’t help but crack up laughing as Wukong ducked under the table in surprise, trying to stifle his own laughter.

“HAH!! GOT ‘EEEEEEEEEEEM!!!” Mk screamed as Nezha grabbed and tussled at his clothing, shrieks erupting from his throat.

“Lotus boy!? Mk what did you do!?” Mei exclaimed, clearly less intent on helping and more intent on actually knowing what the fuck they had done.

“THERE’S SOMETHING IN MY ARMOR! THEHEHERE’S-OH MY GOHOHOD WHAT THE FU-” You could just hear Wukong’s dry wheeze from under the table as Nezha’s franticness caused him to bump into one of the chairs, practically crumbling onto one of the tables as Tang choked on his noodles with a chortle.

“Are you-Oh my god, Lotus boy’s ticklish!” Mk nodded to Mei’s statement, and honestly, he was pretty surprised by just how much those feathers affected the man. He was laughing up a storm from wherever those feathers were tickling him, Mk couldn’t really see where they were, but he knew they were doing something.

Or he’d probably just never been tickled in his life and the sensation shocked his soul right out of his body.

That’s also a possibility.

“What the hell? Oi, Monkey King, is this your doing?!” Apparently Pigsy had been the first one to catch onto the real culprit, and Mk banged a fist against the table with a snort as Wukong let out an offended gasp from his hiding spot, popping out into the open.

“I will have you know, mister man of the pigs! I didn’t do nothing!” Wukong sassed, shaking his head from side to side, wagging his finger disapprovingly. That, however, masked the fact that he was probably making those feathers move even faster, because Nezha’s laughter went up an octave right after.

“WUKOHOHOHONG!!! I-I’M GOHONNA KIHIHIHILL YOU-” Monkey King gave an especially skeptical look, turning to Mk, who too was laughing hysterically, just not from the result of being tickled himself. “Yakow, I’m not so sure he’s actually going to do it. I mean, look at the guy! Look at him, take a good look!” Monkey King jested, grabbing Mk by the cheeks and directing his attention back to Nezha.

He could see Nezha, half his body on the table, the other half on the floor as he gripped the edges of the wood, laughing up a storm as he practically vibrated like mad. His face was alight in an adorable blush of pink, eyes squeezed shut with a wobbly, wide grin to boot. He really didn’t look anywhere close to being capable of killing Monkey King in the state he was in.

But then he saw Mei hopped off her seat, a damn near devilish look on her face.

He knew Nezha was in for some shit.

“Here! Lemme help you out, buddy!” Mei spoke too cheerfully to be anything but a trap, but with the way the Lotus Prince was too preoccupied trying to get a grip of himself, he realized that fact a little too late, practically squealing as Mei snatched him by the sides, skittering her nails all over.

Wukong laughed as Nezha flew back unintentionally, right into the person who was making it worse. He kicked his legs as Mei struggled to hold him up with a huffing laugh, scrambling to grab her biceps and shake them.

And not for the first time, Mk doesn’t see the stoic Lotus Prince persona that Nezha tries so hard to keep up. He just sees Nezha; a man who seriously needs a break, and a little too ticklish for his own good.

So you can’t entirely blame Mk for wanting to be a prick.

He jumps over the table, letting out a weird as hell war cry before snatching Nezha by the legs. “YOU’RE COMIN’ WITH ME, MY DUDE-”

Nezha shrieked as Mk began to drag him around the floor, Tang really choking on his noodles as Mei howled with laughter, whipping out her phone to record the absolute madness. Nezha was gripping his ribs-which is probably where Wukong’s feathers are- shaking his head manically as he tried to wrench himself from Mk’s grasp.

“MK, NAHAHAHA-” “HEY!! I just cleaned those floors, kid!!!” Wukong slapped his hand on the table repeatedly as Pigsy called out, and Mk defiantly continued to drag this man everywhere he could, still carefully avoiding chairs and table legs as he went.

“WELL I’M USIN’ IT, DADSY, I’M BUSY!!” Mk shouted back as Mei followed behind him, catching it all on video.

“The poor man! Mk no!” Tang laughed, clearly not as against it as Pigsy is, who stared in dumbfounded disbelief as the two kids messed with the Lotus Prince himself. Nezha, meanwhile, was trying to cling onto anything with a solid structure but was doing nothing other than dragging chairs and tables out of place in his hysteria.

“Look at this BOI-” Mei cheered, causing Mk to wheeze as he shook Nezha’s legs from side to side, the man letting out a squeak as Wukong hopped over.

“WAIT, I GOT THIS!!” That was the only warning that any of them had gotten before a whole barrage of feathers descended on the prince, who screamed in shock before that shock quickly dissolved into the most batshit manic laughter Mk had ever bore witness to.

Mei wheezed, the grip on her phone trembling as the man on the ground thrashed damn near violently, and Mk had to hold tighter onto his legs so he wouldn’t get himself a boot to the face.

“I. AM. FEATHER-BUDDHA!!!” Wukong cried, throwing his hands dramatically into the air as Mei got the bright idea to place her phone down, grab Nezha’s arms, and hoist him the rest of the way up.

“FEATHER JESUS-” She cried just as dramatically as the two swung the prince back and forth, laughing themselves silly as Nezha laughed himself into a tizzy.

For a split second, Mk swore he saw macaque walk in, stare, and then slide right back out in one smooth motion and just-wow, what a great cameo.

“MACAHAHAHAQUE, YOU TRAHAITOR-” Oh he saw him, oh shit-

“I do not exist. Good luck.” Wukong wheezed and almost fell off the damn table as Macaque took his seat at the counter, turning away as if he weren’t just called out to.

“GUHUHUYS, QUIT IHIHIHIT!! PLEHEHEHEAAHAHASE-” Nezha pleaded, trying so desperately to wiggle his way out of the situation. Mk took the liberty of being the local gremlin.

“Ohohoho! But my little nezzy-wezzy-” So many wheezes wrung out at once as Nezha shrieked in embarrassment. Mk hoisted him up so that he had a grip of his knees, Mei slowing down the swinging to a stop as Mk jostled him further.

Wukong, sensing that some more shit was going to go down, slowed the feathers to somewhat of a more breathable speed, and Nezha choked on the breath he sucked in. The smile that forced itself onto his face was both down-right adorable, and freakishly foreign to him. That is something that’s going to have to change, then.

“You know, to be the best gremlin out there, all bets are off the table.” Mk dramatically announced. “AND SO!!” Nezha jumped at the loud tone, anticipatory giggles already spilling from his lips.

“What the heck he’s already laughing, awe-AND SO,” Mk repeated with a dramatic pause. “Mei, get his shirt.”

His bestie didn’t need to be told twice, Nezha letting out a shriek as she pulled his shirt up and away from his belly. “LOCAL GREMLINS!! ASSEMBLE!!!” She cried-

Right as Mk blew a raspberry into the center of Nezha’s belly.

There was a loud pop as Nezha exploded into laughter, and a few gasps and awes went around as a pink glow tinged Mk’s peripheral.

He continued to blow raspberry after raspberry with hardly any pause, and he probably would have winced given just how loud and downright evil Nezha’s laughter was, giggles and cackles as he thrashed and squirmed. It was absolutely hilarious.

“HE’S EXPLODING PETALS, MK!!” Mk paused in his raspberry blowing to pinch at the back of his knees, causing a knee-jerk reaction as he grinned at the petals that had shot out into existence, floating to the ground as Nezha snorted.

“God damn, the guy’s got a set of lungs.” Macaque chuckled, placing his hands over his ears with a grin. Mk laughed with a shake of his head, before diving straight back in, this time nibbling with an added sound effect of ‘nom nom nom’.

The petals exploded from him again.

“MK STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP OHMYGOD PLEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHASE!!!!” Nezha cried as if his life depended on it, repeated pops that were just too cute to be real filled the room as the distinct smell of lotuses overwhelmed Mk’s nose as he just kept going and going, blow after blow after blow after-

“JESUS CHRIST KID, GIVE THE MAN A BREAK!!” His record broke with a laugh with the way Pigsy had to shout so loud just to be heard over Nezha’s screaming.

It was when Nezha was so weak that all he could do was tremble and laugh, that Wukong removed the feathers and poofed them into hair, when Mei and he finally-gently-placed him on the floor, and Mk had ceased his merciless tickling, that the man gulped down proper breath since the whole ordeal began.

“Ohohoho, that was golden!” Wukong laughed as he answered to Mk’s high five, Macaque snorting at the way Nezha curled up into a tight little ball, lotus petals surrounding and covering him as he lightly tried to fan his face in hopes of ridding the embarrassed and exhausted blush on his cheeks.

“You damn near killed him, you idiots.” Pigsy sighed in exasperation, looking over the mess that had become his shop within a matter of minutes in very heavy disappointment.

“What-” Nezha panted as he sat up, burning with the rest of his gradually dying embarrassment. “What was that!? Wha-what did you do??” Mk tilted his head in amused confusion, as did Mei and Wukong. “C’mon dude, it’s just tickling! It’s not like it can hurt ya!” Mei dismissed.

A silence was Nezha’s response.

Silence soon enveloped the shop.

“You…you do know what that is, right? Nezha?” Wukong asked with a tilt of his head, this one verging on the dangerous territory of ‘this better be a fucking joke or I swear to the Celestials-’

Nezha just stared at them like they’d grown three heads.

“Oh my God he doesn’t know what tickling is-”

“THE POOR BOIO-”

Nezha yelped as Mei latched onto him in a tight embrace, which caused Mk to automatically snort. Oh this was just sad, both the hilarious kind and also the not-hilarious kind.

Staying in one room to protect a map for thousands of years really must do something to ya, huh?

“I’m actually fucking remorseful. I send my regards.” Macaque hummed, before giving a half-assed salute. “See you on the other side, Lotus Prince.” And then he disappeared into the counter’s shadow. Just like the shifty monkey, doing something like that.

“This is gonna go terribly.” Tang interjected, polishing off his third bowl.

“I’m actually thinking of closing the shop for today, I can’t believe this.” Pigsy grumbled, retreating back into the safety of his kitchen.

Nezha, during all of this, seemed to grow even more confused as the multiple comments were shot fired, and he looked at Mk who only gave him a solemn grin, because even he wasn’t about to mess up what would be-

“This will be the greatest day of your life, Lotus Boy!”

The most disastrous day of his life, courtesy of the local menace, Mei.

“Now! First on my list would be some hands on experience-”

Nezha let out a shrill shriek as Mei’s hands immediately dive for his sides.

A shriek that will be just one of way, way, way too many to come.

[starsheild]

Alone

Notes: So this is actually an old fic of mine that I had posted on another site years ago that I happened to stumble across. It's one of my favorites, so uploading it here now.

It cut deep, even though there was no actual physical pain involved. There was nothing wrong with his spark. At least nothing wrong that First Aid would be able to detect with a scanner. He and Jazz had never bonded, had never allowed themselves that indulgence, no matter how much they had both craved the idea of that closeness.

Most of the crew had no idea how close the two of them had been. Had no idea of the small twinges that had run through Prowl every time he had seen members of the crew moving forward with their lives, at least as well as anyone could in the middle of a war, and being denied that same chance himself.

It was no external source that had stayed their actions and leashed their emotions and desires. It was internal, an agreement and understanding between the two of them. A precaution against a circumstance such as this.

Even though neither of them ever imagined this sort of scenario. One of them passing on during the course of the war they expected. Both of them dying before the end of the war was certainly not beyond the realm of probability. But neither of them had expected to survive their Prime.

And now Prowl found himself virtually alone. There was a new Prime. There was a new command staff. And he was alone. There were others left from his generation, this was true, but all of them had somehow blended seamlessly into the new command structure.

There was nothing for him to do, and what was even worse was the fact that no one was interested in trying to find something for him to do. All of his requests for some sort of work, for some sort of direction and purpose, had been denied. For medical reasons, they kept insisting. For his own good, the responses always read.

When Prowl had confronted First Aid about this the young medic had looked thoroughly appalled and, much to Prowl's sorrow and pity, apologetic. In fact, the young mech had been unable to meet his optics, looking at the floor, the wall, the empty berth, anywhere but a direction where he would meet the optics of the mech he was speaking to.

"I've tried Prowl. But I'm still young, and my word doesn't carry a lot of weight around here yet. And I'm, I'm no-" First Aid had choked there, and Prowl had been able to finish the sentence that the young medic could not. I'm no Ratchet. I'm no force of nature to bend all to my will, from the lowest recruit to the Prime himself.

"I keep telling them that you don't need the time. Don't want the time. To give you something to do. And they keep refusing me. I don't know why…"

Prowl had thanked him quietly and went on his way. He knew why, even if Frist Aid did not. He was not worth the effort. He was old, out of date and obviously damaged. There was no place for him in the new command staff, and there was no place for him among the common soldiers, for he had been an officer far to long for them to accept him among their ranks again. And there was no one with the time to spare to find something for him to do.

His fears confirmed, Prowl made his way back to his old office and set down at his terminal. Even when his position as Second in Command had been revoked no one had taken over his space. No one had needed or wanted the place where he had done so much work.

Prowl almost wished they had. Even if it was a place where he had spent countless joors stressed, overworked, under-fueled and on the verge of offlining from lack of recharge, the room had some good memories too.

There, on the far wall, was the dent he had never bothered to have fixed from one of the twins pranks backfiring. He never had been quite able to figure out what Sideswipe thought he was doing with those magnets, but it had been rather entertaining to come in that morning and find the mech suspended from the wall by his aft.

Feeling thoroughly vindictive and not at all responsible for getting the red mech out of the position he managed to find his way into, Prowl had left him there for the entire day. Sideswipe had not gotten down until his twin had shown up to rescue him later that evening. And even then the yellow Lamborghini had threatened to leave Sideswipe there to suffer from his own stupidity.

Jazz had laughed when Prowl had told him the story. The saboteur had been away on a mission when the red twin had made the attempt, and the light-sparked tale, related in Prowl dry brand of humor, had been what the mech had needed to relieve some stress.

It had not hurt that Jazz had fallen from his chair when Prowl had added in a little detail. Prowl had left Sideswipe hanging on the office wall all day on the mechs only day off that week.

"Cold mech! Cold! Guess' that's jus' incentive fer me ta make sure mah pranks gonna roll when I pull it."

A prank that would never happen now.

Venting softly, Prowl began to write what was probably the last official document he would ever submit as an Autobot.

[lostdrarryfics]

THE BIG FIND 2023: Day 6

The Big Find is a 10-day long Drarry fic-finding marathon to celebrate the blog’s anniversary. Below is the Day 6 compilation of lost fics, both old and new, that we’ve been unable to find. Our aim is to get as much attention to these lost fics as possible, to help people finally find their missing fics! Anyone can participate by reblogging, reading through each list, providing additional fic details, and informing us the title, author, or link of a fic, and their respective number in the comment section. Happy finding!

6.1 8th year, Harry is a bit of an ass, all the 8th years share a common room, Ron is actually the first one to befriend Draco and plays chess with him. Harry treats Draco poorly after they hook up or something so Ron punches Harry in the face. Probably AO3 but idk

6.2 post-Deathly Hallows fic. After the war, Narcissa and Lucius are dead or imprisoned. Malfoy Manor was auctioned off, Draco lives with his godfather Severus. Somehow Drarry get involved in a relationship, there is a scene where Harry gifts Draco a few things he found in thrift store like a teddy whose stomach lights up when pressed given by Severus to kid Draco who is scared of dark and parents ignore him.

6.3 ao3, E and probably one-shot. Harry and Draco are flatmates, Harry likes Draco and is convinced Draco is straight because he goes on many dates Narcissa plans bc he must marry a nice pureblood girl and blah blah. Harry is gay and has a group of friends he goes out with that are OCs, i think. The thing is Draco is a virgin and no one has ever given him a bj and Harry, as a very good friend not at all interested, gives him one. I think eventually Draco gets angry when Harry takes his one night stands home, but maybe not, not sure about the ending.

6.4 Basically Draco and Harry both speak French in this one, but Draco doesn’t know Harry speaks French as well and says a bunch of things to him that I’m pretty sure he never wanted Harry to find out (these things were romantic/sexual in nature). I’m pretty sure it was rated E Fic is not Say Anything by megyal

6.5 i remember a fic, it was a short one shot. i believe i read it on Tumblr. eighth year. i remember the line “your boy is a bit angsty” and harry finding draco sitting on a bench near the lake. i also remember pansy being in the fic.

6.6 I am looking for a fic that is probably on AO3 where Draco and Harry are friends i believe and Narcissa dies of cancer, she spends her last days in a muggle hospital. At the end i think Draco loses his memories from his time dating Harry bc he stayed in Azkaban (if I remember correctly it’s bc he was found in number 12 and taken into custody by Kingsley)

6.7 I’m looking for a fic where Draco returns to Hogwarts for 8th year, post war and either his magic is limited, or he knows not to use his magic if he doesn’t want to be kicked out of school/sent to Azkaban (don’t remember what it was, just that there was a consequence). This meant he was in a vulnerable position and Theo Nott kept bullying him. It escalates to a scene where Theo catches Draco in the shower and threatens to rape him with his wand and Harry arrives just in time before he does

6.8 I only remember that harry and draco cross through some kind of portal through a holly and hawthorn tree. Fate or magic or some kind of deity tells them they were always meant to be together one way or another eventually, but she brought them together now to avoid Harry and Ginny getting together and having a child who eill be a dark lord or some villain. She tells them that now they are boud together they can only be with one another and dont have to worry about the “evil” child every coming into existend because of their bond

6.9 fic on ao3 that was with a drunk Draco and he has a drinking problem and at slughorns party he tries to kiss harry but harry pushes him away that’s all I remember

6.10 fic I’ve read on ao3 but can’t seem to find it anymore. if I’m not mistaken, it takes place after war, and they were both working together (not sure if both of them are auror) but the case was about a girl possibly being sexually abused by his father, and draco help going through the case. i think harry once asked draco how he’s kinda prepared or at least know how to handle this type of case.

6.11 it has eventual Drarry and might be part of a series? I remember it starts from the beginning of the series and Draco either has visions or time travels, but I believe it was visions. He single-handedly defeats the troll in the bathroom and often meets w/ McGonagall for private lessons and check-ins. I remember Draco was receiving training from McGonagall, and this was a very predominant part of the storyline. I believe it was because he had visions. I think there was also something about an extreme blast of magic when he defeated the troll. Fic is not History Repeats Itself by tragicomic_relief, or The Mirror of Ecidyrue series by starbrigid

6.12 Dom Harry and sub draco. They were at some like sex/bdsm club . Draco was completely naked and was sitting on Harry’s dick while he was sitting at a bar talking to others Doms. I think it was because of the things the Doms are talking about or watching what other Dom’s were doing to their subs but draco was getting even more aroused and was squirming and whimpering. That was kinda turning Harry on and was annoying him I think so he whispered something along the lines of “stop or you'll get punished” and I think he didn’t stop and ended up getting some sort of spanking In front of everyone.

6.13 I read it YEARSS ago and have been trying to find it since! So its Draco centric- Draco is raised by Regulus (i think) he’s best friends with Cho Chang, and he has a massive crush on Cedric. (Cedric also has siblings in the fic, if that helps!!) The fic takes place around the Triwizard tournament so 4th year! From what I remember the fic had multiple chapters. I remember this scene where Draco was sitting in a bathtub having a panic attack and Cedric made him feel better. I also remember a scene where Draco ran to Cedric as he was putting his name in the goblet to  stop him and Harry making fun of him?? Theres this OC i remember I think her name was Nana Mars? And of course Cedric’s siblings- i don’t remember their names. I think the fic was tagged with eventual drarry

FOUND! 6.14 I didn’t look when it was made or ratings and all. But I remember that it started when Harry was walking towards some tower? And he saw Draco naked (actually only without his shirt). Draco had made a potion that was suppose to make him disappear, but he accidentally made a love potion, which was from a very old potionbook. So because of that he fell in love with Harry because he was the first one he saw. And as the story goes on, Harry and Draco try to solve how to break the lovepotion curse and even Hermione tries to help them. I wasn’t ready reading it and i haven’t found it anymore.. i thought it was on wattpad, but i’m not sure anymore

[elleskandal]

match my freak

Rintarou has been reading "RPF - Volleyball" fanfic and it makes his life a little complicated when he develops feelings for Motoya because of it.

🏐 words: 7.2k

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/59996212 (or read below)

🏐 🏐 🏐 🏐 🏐

“Did you know about the fan fiction?” Rintarou looked down at his phone as he waited for Motoya to finish getting dressed after practice.

“Yeah? What about it?” Motoya had heard of fan fiction, who hadn’t?

“The fan fiction about us,” Rintarou responded deadpan, now looking up from his phone. He wanted to see Motoya’s reaction to this. It took a second for it to compute.

“Fan fiction about… us?” Motoya pointed between the two of them.

“Yup.” Rintarou popped the p and raised his chin so he could look down his nose. He was lucky he had a good poker face because he was relishing this conversation.

“And?” Motoya’s eyes had started to bug out a little.

“And what?” Rintarou raised his eyebrows. He knew what Motoya was asking but he wanted to tease him.

“What’s it like?” Rintarou couldn’t see Motoya’s face as he put his gear in his locker.

Rintarou had already read most of the fic he could find on that cursed site. He had stumbled upon it when he was scouring his digital footprint. He had wanted to engage with his fans and when one accidentally tagged him directly instead of a fan account when talking about their latest story, he couldn’t help but check it out. He kind of spiraled from there.

He had seen that he was “shipped” with a couple of people in the v.League circuit. He saw one crack fic with him and vabo-chan which he had to admit was hilarious. Then he stumbled upon a story with Atsumu, which, made him grimace. The guy was objectively attractive, but if he had to imagine dating his best friend, he may vomit. So he avoided those. Then there was Aran, which is valid. They went to high school together, were kouhai/sempai, could even be seen as rivals, and the man was hot. He read a couple of those, but it got a little weird when they got too spicy. He just couldn’t picture it. He realized Aran was like a brother. So he checked out of that ship.

But when he found the fics that featured him and Motoya… everything changed. At first, it was funny. He felt like he needed a bucket of popcorn to eat while he indulged — he read through stories about how they celebrated their wins, supported each other through losses, took care of each other when they were sick, or pined after one another when their backs were turned. In some, they weren’t even volleyball players! They worked at coffee shops, wielded magic, ruled kingdoms, managed corporations, or were single parents.

However, his brain broke and was — possibly, probably, definitely — rewired when he read the ones marked E. He thought those were “E for Everyone,” like the video games. Boy, was he wrong. Sending each other to subspace, being alphas and omegas, and worst of all, when they were soulmates. It made him start to rethink his relationship with Motoya and his relationship with love in general.

Rintarou had never particularly thought he was a romantic, but reading about how so many people thought he was soulmates with one of his best friends? How so many analyzed their interviews and interactions, writing fiction around them getting together? Having sex and making love? It made him think. A lot.

Motoya closed his locker. Rintarou was leaning against his, spacing out. Motoya had to repeat his question a few times, waving in his face. “Hello? Earth to Sunarin. I said, what’s it like?”

“I guess you’ll have to read it, huh,” Rintarou smirked at that. He would actually like it if Motoya read it. He brought it up to plant that little seed in his mind. He wanted his teammate to suffer the same way he had over the past several months, falling down this deep dark hole. Suffer in how he found it difficult to look Motoya in the eye—he often had to look away from him in the locker room too and when he saw beads of sweat drip down Motoya’s neck after games? He had to suffer through the thoughts of licking them off.

Worst case, they could have a laugh together at the idea of Rintarou as Motoya’s assistant, knight Rintarou saving Prince Motoya, mob boss Rintarou purchasing debtor Motoya, or whatever other scenario their fans spun up. Best case, well… Rin didn’t think that would actually happen. This wasn’t a fan fiction, after all.

So Rintarou planted the idea. But he wondered if it was a mistake as he choked on his blue electrolyte-infused water that evening following the text he received.

>> What are alpha/beta/omega dynamics?

It was too soon for that. Couldn’t Motoya start simpler, something light and easy? Slice of life, maybe? This was like giving a kid the birds-and-the-bees talk.

And then the phone started ringing, Motoya’s name lighting up the screen. Rin just stared at it until it stopped, but when he got another text, he knew he was fucked.

>> Suna, pick up. I know you just saw that text!

Damn read receipts. He should turn those off. He liked to keep them off to make a point that he was being an asshole though.

His phone started ringing again and he had no choice but to pick up. He knew that gremlin would just keep calling.

“What do you want, Komori?” He sighed.

“So rude,” Motoya quipped.

“Okay, now that I have you on the phone. I’m looking at the fanfic you told me about,” he paused, “they have these tags and I don’t know what some of them are. Like knotting.”

Rintarou placed his fingers on his forehead to steady himself and closed his eyes. He was glad this wasn’t a video call. He’s not sure he would be able to look Motoya in the face. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold it together.

“You have Google.” Rintarou thought his heart would give out if he had to explain any omegaverse concept to Motoya.

“But sometimes it doesn’t explain nuances. Like when I looked up alpha/beta/omega, it just told me it was a part of the Greek alphabet or when a man is like macho or whatever. That’s not correct, right? I just don’t want to go into these not knowing what they are.“

Rintarou sighed. “Fine. That trope is like a dominance hierarchy. Alphas are usually the most dominant, while omegas are submissive. But maybe read those after experiencing something a little… tamer. Anything else?”

“Tamer? Sounds like you’re warning me away from the good stuff!” Rintarou could just imagine the way Motoya’s cute little eyebrows were dancing across his face.

“I just think you might want to ease your way in.” He sighed. Maybe this was a bad idea. Thinking about Motoya reading something so explicit made him warm—no, hot—he was getting very hot in the face.

“Uhh huh. With what kind of stuff? Do you have favorites? How much of it have you read?” He could hear the smile in Motoya’s voice. Damn him. He had suggested the fanfic because he wanted Motoya to suffer just like he was, but it seemed like Rintarou was going through it even worse now. He should have known.

Rintarou tipped his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Start with literally anything else. How about the ones based on Taylor Swift songs?” He avoided the question of how many he had read—he did not want to address that—or if he had favorites. He couldn’t send those over. Not yet at least.

“Cool. I’ll see if I can find them. I’m looking forward to learning what some of these words mean too. It’s like a whole new language…” Motoya trailed off. Rintarou swore he could hear him mumbling through the tags he was reading like dead dove, water sports, and selfcest. He had to get off this call. Now.

“Uh huh.” Rintarou’s eyes unfocused as he stared. He was about to dissociate.

“Okay, talk to you later!” Motoya thankfully hung up.

He went to his room and face planted into his bed.

—

About a year ago, Motoya had to console Kiyoomi through one of his many crises. This particular one’s cause? Fan fiction.

Someone on his team had found a particularly entertaining one and sent it out through the group chat—its subject matter, Atsumu. Kiyoomi wanted to clown on him like the others, who had all read it. It was an ode. To Atsumu’s tongue. The guys had not been able to stop quoting it, not that Atsumu’s ego needed it. Of course, in “retaliation,” Atsumu’s tongue remained outside of his mouth more than normal, which was already an absurd amount of time.

The real problem was the way the words of the fic burrowed themselves into Kiyoomi’s mind and created some kind of Pavlovian effect between that tongue and how he felt when he had read that stupid work of fiction. Because it was fiction—he had to keep telling himself that. Nothing written about his tongue was true, right? Right?

Every time Kiyoomi saw a flash of pink dart of out Atsumu’s mouth, his mind rebooted and powered up horny.exe, a virus implanted inside of him, which was rotting and melting his brain. He knew it was a problem when a ball from Atsumu hit him in the face during practice. He hoped the bloody nose it gave him would cause the stupidity to leak out of his mind, but alas, no luck—it only made it worse. Atsumu hovered around him, licking his lips in trepidation. That’s when he had to get some free psychotherapy from Motoya.

“I can’t keep going on like this, Motoya.”

“Hm, my mom would probably prescribe exposure therapy or something,” Motoya said offhandedly.

Motoya’s mother was a psychologist so he knew some of her treatments and exercises, but more often than not, he was talking out of his ass. That said, they had tried exposure therapy on Kiyoomi as a kid for his various neuroses. It worked to keep him from bringing his obsessive compulsion into volleyball.

“You’re a genius. I’ll read all the fan fiction I can find of Miya.” Motoya could hear the smile in his voice. Oh no.

“Uh, that’s not exactly what I was thinking. How—“

His cousin cut him off, “Look at what I found. Texted it to you. See ya.”

Motoya pulled his phone away from his face and looked at the link in his texts. When he clicked on it, it brought him to the page Volleyball RPF — Komori Motoya, listing every fic about him and his colleagues that he was tagged in.

“I hate you!” He was sure that Kiyoomi had not heard him before he hung up. It didn’t matter. He was stuck now. He was Schrödinger’s Fanfic Reader.

Like in Schrödinger’s thought experiment, Motoya was the cat—he was just as curious, so how could he not click on the link and dive deeper? To Kiyoomi (our modern-day Schrödinger), Motoya was both the reader and non-reader, now stuck in a box. Maybe if he never spoke of this again though, no one would ever know that he had actually died inside once he found those fics. He died and was reborn as someone new, someone who had read very explicit sex scenes between himself and his best friend; scenes that he couldn’t forget, scenes that he didn’t exactly want to forget.

But unfortunately, Suna Rintarou opened the box and Motoya was now officially dead, reborn as a fanfic reader. Even if he didn’t bring the subject up, it wouldn’t have made it any less true, but he could have continued pretending. He could still continue pretending—He didn’t have to let Rintarou know that he knew about it all just yet.

It’s not like Rintarou knew he let Motoya out of this metaphorical box—so Motoya could still pretend for a bit. He spent all that time in the box alone, accumulating all that knowledge. He should put it to use. This could be fun, actually.

—

“Sunarin! I can’t wait to tell you about what I found out.” Motoya clapped his hands. They were undressing to head to the showers after practice. “Knotting is like when a wolf—“

Rintarou slammed his locker and blinked his eyes slowly at Motoya in disbelief. “Let’s, uh, talk about it later.” He looked around to make sure no one else had heard Motoya. He did not want to talk about the myriad of alternate universes where they were together, all of them except here. He especially did not want to talk about the explicit versions of those universes (and whether he had an ever-expanding dick or not in them). He did not want to talk about how they had changed him and how he couldn’t look at Motoya the same way, and how— 

“Sure. How about we grab dinner?”

“In public?” Rintarou’s voice was a little high. Maybe his poker face was cracking. Maybe he was losing it.

“Yes?” Motoya laughed as he brushed past Rintarou. Where they touched burned. Rintarou looked over his shoulder as he kept walking to the showers. “Or we could get takeout.”

“Takeout. Let’s do takeout.” Rintarou nodded and followed him to the showers.

Somewhere in the last two months, Rintarou had to stop walking to the showers with Motoya. He couldn’t look at the lean muscles of his back rippling as he walked or the little trail of stomach hair that begged his eyes to drop lower without wanting to slam his head into a wall. Otherwise, he’d have a worse problem on his hands. Today, however, he had other things on his mind.

As he sudsed up, Rintarou couldn’t decide whether takeout actually was a good idea. Talking about dubcon and cannibalism and whatever other stuff—kinky or otherwise—that Motoya wanted to throw at him could not be done in public. Then again, he thought about talking about it alone in his apartment and wondered if he was actually, truly fucked. He felt like he was on some kind of prank show. Maybe someone will jump out and yell “PUNKED!” at him if he’s lucky. But then he reminded himself that this was all of his own making.

He needed advice. Who the hell could he call about this? Didn’t Atsumu say he had read fanfic before? Maybe he’d understand. He finished up quickly and told Motoya he would meet him outside; he had a call to return.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up. Heyyy!” Rintarou paced around the side of the EJP training center, away from the door.

“Hey, bitch. Whaddaya want?” Atsumu answered and Rintarou breathed a sigh or relief. He normally would banter but he didn’t have much time until Motoya came out.

“I have a problem,” Rintarou said flatly.

“Okay? And? Be quiet, Omi. Sunarin’s upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he huffed.

“Spill.”

Knowing Sakusa was there did not make Rintarou feel good about asking for help from Atsumu, but he didn’t know what to do. Maybe if he was vague he wouldn’t let on his issue was about Motoya.

“I, uh, shit. I read all this fanfic about me and a friend and it fucked me up. I think… I like them.”

“Oh shit! Who? A teammate? Is it me?” Atsumu snickered. The jerk.

“It's not you, you ass. It doesn’t matter who it is.” Rintarou ran a hand through his wet hair and tried to fluff it up so he didn’t look like a wet dog with Motoya later. “What do I do?”

“Well, Omi and I read fic to each other sometimes. It’s pretty hot. It really gets him goin’.”

“Ew. Stop.” Rintarou didn’t want to know about their sex lives.

“Okay, okay. We also read them because we may’ve found a funny one or somethin’ cute, ya know?” Rintarou did know. He had read some tooth-rottingly fluffy fics. “You could share one that shows what ya wanna convey. Like from yer heart? If ya like ‘em like that? It could be a good way to take it to the next level, if that’s what ya want.”

“What the fuck? Did you just give me good advice?” Rintarou was honestly kind of stunned. He didn’t expect much but maybe dating Sakusa had matured him.

“Yer an asshole.” Then Atsumu hung up on him. Well, he kind of deserved it. He texted him a thank you though.

When he went to the front of the building, Motoya was waiting for him. “I ordered for us.” He held up his phone. “I got you those noodles you like from Botan’s.

“Thanks.” Rintarou didn’t let his emotion show. Motoya cared enough to remember what he liked and it made him a little gooey inside.

“So, do you have a favorite fic?” Motoya asked him as they walked to get dinner.

“Hm,” Rintarou had to think for a minute. “There’s a couple that I like.” He felt a little embarrassed to admit it, but he had to give a little to get a little.

“Me too.” Motoya didn’t elaborate and it left him wondering.

They walked in pointed silence after that and got their food. All the while, Rintarou thought about which one, or multiple, he’d want to share. His hands felt a little clammy and he wondered if Motoya could sense his jitters.

As he dug into his meal at home—Nikumiso Hiyamugi—mixing the minced pork into the noodles, he texted a link to Motoya. He had steeled himself on his walk back with a few retorts based on what Motoya might think. He could say he liked the way the slow burn was executed, how good the writing was, or even how the writer nailed their personalities.

Despite all that, he hadn’t primed Motoya to receive the fic but figured he’d be the first to share, before he had to talk about the omegaverse again, as that’s all the guy seemed to want to discuss, or god forbid get into the topic of what he could find in dead dove fics.

He wasn’t sure whether Motoya choking on his food was a good or bad thing. He tried to analyze his face for any giveaways—Rintarou was good at doing so on the court, but found Motoya could hide his true intention in everyday life almost as well as himself.

—

Motoya had to admit that maybe he was in over his head. When he clicked on the link Rintarou had sent him, he wasn’t expecting much—a silly alternate universe, a light-hearted slice of life, or something overtly raunchy. He could deal with all of those, easily. What he couldn’t deal with was this.

Why did his heart stop? Why did his stomach churn? Why did Rintarou send this of all of the things written about them?

What he was staring at was a fic with the following tags: getting together, pining, slow burn, friends to lovers, love confessions, they’re so in love your honor.

Motoya needed to stall. “Do you want me to read this now?” To be fair, this fic was kind of long. It would take him a few hours to read it… if he hadn’t read it already. Which he had, and it was utterly gooey and romantic. And it was Rintarou’s favorite?

“Aren’t you going to send me one too?” Rintarou stuffed some noodles into his mouth.

Motoya did not want to send him stories yet, not when Rintarou was sending him stories like this. Was it because he thought of their relationship like this or because he legitimately liked this kind of story? The guy didn’t seem like he’d be into romance, but what did he know? So he made up an excuse for now.

“I’m still pretty new to this, so I don’t know a ton of them. I need to get familiar with more of them before I can do that.”

“Didn’t you want to brag about what you found out earlier?” Rintarou cocked his head to the side and smirked. “You had to have read something.”

“Oh, um, I didn’t exactly take your advice and got wrapped up in the omegaverse. Pretty interesting place, huh?”

“Uh huh,” Rintarou affirmed through a mouthful of food. “Send me your worst then.” His tongue slid out to lick sauce off his lips. Motoya tracked it with his eyes as if it moved in slow motion. It reminded him that he had read about that mouth licking up his neck, nibbling on his ear, sucking marks on his skin, and—

“‘Mori?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.” Motoya was so fucked.

—

“Kiyoomi, I hate you,” Motoya grumbled into the phone.

“What did I do this time?”

“Remember when you sent me that fanfic link last year?" He didn't wait for a response and blustered through, "You gave me this knowledge and now I am cursed.”

“Uh huh. How so,” Kiyoomi sounded bored.

“There’s this person who was featured in them with me and it was never anything more than a fantasy before. But now they want to talk about it! The fics! They know! And I can’t play dumb.”

“Okay, sure. So this person, how do you feel about them?”

“They—“ Motoya wasn’t quite sure how he felt. 

He found himself noticing this guy more ever since he stumbled upon those stories. Like, his eyes were instantly drawn to him when he entered a room. He had been analyzing his microexpressions and finding joy in understanding them. And experiencing skinship from the guy? He felt like little zaps of electricity ran through him when that happened.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

These are not thoughts someone has about a friend.

“Motoya?”

“It’s complicated.” He was a teammate and his best friend. He didn’t want to complicate it with these feelings.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Rintarou had sent him a tender and amorous fic as his favorite story about the two of them. Was it really that simple?

Kiyoomi’s words pinged around his mind.

It doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t have to be complicated.

—

Motoya elbowed Rintarou while sitting next to him on the couch, “So what’d you think of the fic I sent you?” His caterpillar of an eyebrow raised in question.

Motoya had sent over a fic where omega Rintarou was teased within an inch of his orgasm by Motoya licking at the slick coming out of his ass. He thought it was so unrealistic and out of character enough that Rintarou might find it funny.

“Was that your way of asking me if I’m a bottom?”

Motoya was glad he wasn’t in the middle of a sip of his beer because he would have definitely spewed the drink all over himself after choking. Instead, he froze, stopping the bottle on the way to his mouth.

“‘Cuz I’m a switch. So I can be both your submissive omega and your big bad, possessive Alpha.” Rintarou’s eyes flicked up to his. His teammate smirked, then took another swig.

“Oh my god, you’re so embarrassing,” Motoya threw a balled-up napkin at him. Rintarou snickered at Motoya’s beet red face.

Motoya cleared his throat to change the subject, “So do you have any other recommendations? I, uh, enjoyed the last one you sent me.” And suddenly he felt even hotter with the way Rintarou’s eyes bored through him.

“Sure.” While he took a sip of his drink, Rintarou pulled out his phone and shared a new link with Motoya.

This new fic had the following tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, Anxiety.

It doesn’t have to be complicated.

“Either you’re quite the romantic or I think you might be in love with me,” Motoya teased. There was a grain of truth in the jest, a hope that he wanted to bloom and flourish.

Rintarou could have quipped back with a taunt, laughed, or winked, as he had done so many times before during their bantering. Instead, he sat frozen with the bottle to his lips. When his brain came back online, he chugged the rest of his drink. It was still half full.

“Do you want another one?” Rintarou tried to stand up, somewhat robotically, but Motoya grabbed his arm to stop him and pulled him back down.

“Hey, Suna. Talk to me,” Motoya held a note of concern in his tone, almost pleading. He didn’t want Rintarou to feel like he had an issue he had to drink away.

“Would that be bad?” Rintarou’s face was neutral, but he wouldn’t look at him. His voice was quiet.

“Would what be bad?” Motoya still clasped his hand on Rintarou’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“If I liked you.” It was then that Rintarou turned to look at him. He had an air of vulnerability about him, one that he often hid and compartmentalized behind his flat facade and bantering jokes.

Motoya’s fingers skimmed down to Rintarou’s hand, looping his fingers into his friend’s. “No, it wouldn’t be bad.”

Rintarou’s mouth dropped open into a little ‘o’ and his eyes roamed Motoya’s face as he looked for any hint of a joke, any hint that this wasn’t going his way, unintentionally leaning in as he was drawn to the magnetism of the man, drawn to their inevitability.

Motoya’s free hand cupped Rintarou’s cheek in a move that was nearly too soft. He leaned forward, mirroring the other’s body language. They now shared each other’s space and air; their noses touched. He looked at Rintarou’s lips and knew he was never coming back from this. Those lips were a portal to another realm and when Rintarou closed the gap between them, he was transported there.

He was lightheaded and breathless getting to know Rintarou’s lips. Soft and full, they sucked and pulled at Motoya slowly in ways that made him wonder if he had ever really kissed anyone before. When Rintarou pulled back, Motoya chased them, wanting more. And he got it.

From kisses and nips at his lips to smiles, Motoya thought Rintarou’s face would get tired. He had never made expressions like that before and it was almost too much for Motoya. It made him melt. He wondered if he was the only person who had seen Rintarou look like that, and the fact that he was the cause? It made him a little feral. It made him want to eat Rintarou whole.

He left pecks along Rintarou’s jaw, as his hands roamed his back under his shirt. Fingernails left invisible trails as Motoya pressed his lips along the curve of Rintarou’s neck. He wanted to kiss along every inch of Rintarou’s skin.

“‘Mori, be careful.”

“Hmm?” He pulled back to look his friend in the face.

“I didn’t want you to be tempted to claim me.”

“Claim you?”

“We only just got together. I can’t be seen with a mating bite just yet.”

Oh, hell no. An omegaverse joke? Now of all times? Was this all one big joke? Motoya was shocked, stuck blinking and mouth agape.

When Rintarou’s face couldn’t hold back a shit-eating grin, annoyance overcame Motoya. He stood up and tried to get away, facing towards the door. “Are you fucking kid—

“Stop. Don’t go. I’m sorry.” Before he could get away, Rintarou grabbed his wrist. He didn’t look very sorry, as he pulled Motoya into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. He still wore that grin as he kissed Motoya with abandon. “I actually wouldn’t mind if you claimed me, but take me to dinner first,” he said when he came up for air.

God, he was kind of insufferable. “We both know you’re a beta. C’mon.”

“Ouch, babe. A beta? Really?”

Something bloomed in Motoya’s chest at the pet name, but he couldn’t relish it too much. He had bigger fish to fry—he was never going to live down this omegaverse thing, was he? He groaned and decided he might as well lean into it then, teasing, “Aw, so you want to be my good little omega then? You want my knot, huh?”

Now it was Rintarou’s turn to stare at Motoya, who began to laugh.

“And you think I’m the embarrassing one?” Rintarou started laughing along with the infectious laugh coming from Motoya, settling their foreheads together as the peels of laughter slowed and reverberated under their breath.

“Yeah, I do,” Motoya said and kissed him, while rubbing their noses together. “I like that about you.”

Motoya eased back into Rintarou, fingers finding purchase in dark hair as they became a mess of lips and teeth once again. The more charged the air between the two of them got, the tighter Motoya’s fingers gripped, not realizing how much he pulled or how hard he was, rocking against the other. Rintarou moaned with his head pulled back in Motoya’s grip, gasping into his mouth. Heat licked in Motoya’s gut at the sound.

“Bedroom?” Rintarou murmured against his lips. Motoya murmured an affirmation while he nodded.

“Hold on.” Before Motoya could parse the meaning of those words, long strong arms cupped his ass and hoisted him up.

While liberos were notoriously smaller in the league, he had a few kilos on Rintarou. Nearly all of Motoya’s previous lovers were smaller too; so when Rintarou hoisted and threw him onto the bed like he weighed nothing, he was certain he’d let the man do anything to him.

When he landed on the bed, it wasn’t his weightlessness or the little bounce that made Motoya’s stomach swoop though, it was Rintarou’s piercing stare that looked down at him hungrily that really did the trick. Motoya was so down bad it wasn’t even funny.

—

Rintarou straddled Motoya; both naked and aching for each other. He had fantasized about this so many times over the past several months and now that he was here, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Tell me what you want.” Rintarou peppered Motoya with kisses, finding it hard to control himself with the affection leaking out of him.

“I—“ Motoya couldn’t control a strangled noise from escaping his throat when Rintarou’s tongue licked up his neck.

“Out of everything you’ve read, there had to be something you wanted to do, something you’ve fantasized about.” Motoya groaned in response, rutting against Rintarou, who threw his head back and tried to keep his wits about himself. “C’mon, Motoya. Use your words.”

He had wanted to use Motoya’s first name more and more recently. Seeing the man’s reaction, he was glad he waited for this moment. His eyes were blown out and he licked his lips. “Ah, anything,” Motoya panted, “anything you want.”

“Anything? Shit.” Rintarou bit his lip as he thought about some of the depraved things he’d do given the chance, if only Motoya would let him. “You don’t know half of what I’d do to you.” He ran his hands up Motoya’s sides, who shivered. “Or what I’d let you do to me.” He flicked Motoya’s nipple and rolled it between his fingers, eliciting a gasp. “Let’s start easy and we can get into the anything next time. After we talk.”

Motoya continued rocking his hips into Rintarou’s, eyes closed and mouth open as if begging to be filled. Rintarou rubbed his fingers against Motoya's bottom lip and then couldn’t help himself—he slid his fingers in, catching Motoya by surprise. His eyes snapped open, but he soon adapted by sucking with gusto. Keeping eye contact, Motoya swirled his tongue around fingers, taking them as deep into his throat as they would go. Rintarou soon found out that Motoya didn’t have a gag reflex and wondered whether Motoya would look this good sucking his cock—probably better.

“You take them so good,” Rintarou breathed heavily into Motoya’s ear, who whimpered in response. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

Pulling his wet fingers out, Rintarou brought them to curl around Motoya’s dick just to tease him. His hand roamed up and down, but not with any consistent pace or grip.

“Rin, stop teasing me,” Motoya whined and Rintarou’s stomach dropped. He liked hearing his name from Motoya’s lips as much as he liked saying Motoya’s.

“Okay then, do you want me to fuck you or—“

“Yes.”  Motoya cut him off and Rintarou chuckled in return. Motoya looked tortured, debauched—he looked like he needed to be fucked immediately.

“I was going to ask, or do you want to fuck me,” Rintarou huffed in amusement. He wanted to give the man options. As much as he was into fucking him, he wanted to make sure it was what he wanted too.

“Yes.” Motoya squeezed his eyes closed and bit his lip, as he squirmed in Rintarou’s hands. God, he was making this so much harder. Making him so much harder.

Rintarou sat up, making a grab towards his nightstand for lube and condoms. He sat over Motoya without touching him. “Toya, you can’t just say yes to everything.”

“I know, but I’m excited.” Motoya snapped his hips up and Rintarou bit back an embarrassing noise as Motoya said, “How about you fuck me then?”

Rintarou confirmed it with a chaste kiss before coating his fingers with lube, rubbing them together for warmth. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Rintarou spread Motoya’s legs apart, settling between them.

“Don’t stop until I cry. Seriously, make me cry, Rin. Shit—“ Motoya gasped when he felt Rintarou’s finger penetrate him.

Rintarou felt satisfaction curl in his gut. He’d hardly done anything and yet Motoya was so expressive. He loved seeing his range of emotions, wondering what else he could draw out from just his fingers. He wondered what it would take to see his tears.

Speeding up from one finger to two and then three, Motoya panted and writhed under him. His face flushed and blissed out, Rintarou whispered how much he liked hearing Motoya, how good he looked under him, how much he wanted to be inside him.

“Oh my god. I— fuck. I’m going to come.” Rintarou wanted to indulge him, but a little bit of the sadist inside of him liked teasing Motoya and wanted to pull his fingers out and hear him whine, edge him until he was close to coming and pull back, only to bring him to the edge again and again. Instead, Rintarou sided with the indulgent part of himself—if he indulged him over and over and over, maybe that’s how he could get Motoya to cry. So when he found that spot that had Motoya throwing his head back and chanting his name, he didn’t stop his ministrations.

That’s how Rintarou milked the first orgasm out of Motoya, cum splattering Motoya’s chest as he choked on a silent scream. When he came down to this plane from the stars he ascended to, he grabbed Rintarou’s face and pressed their mouths together, regaining the energy that left him.

“More,” Motoya breathed against his lips.

Rintarou had barely just removed his fingers and it seemed like Motoya’s refractory period was already over. “Fuck me already, Rin.” The way he whined Rintarou’s name would forever be cemented into his mind for him to replay at will—he wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. He wasn’t sure how he would survive a game, let alone practice, after hearing that.

Of course, he obliged the request. He sheathed himself in a condom and then mentally prepared to be in Motoya. He was so hard he was leaking and was worried he would fuck this up.

He grabbed the base of his dick to calm himself down and lined himself up. He closed his eyes and pushed inside Motoya.

—

“Rin, you have to move,” Motoya whined. He felt full, so full. If Rintarou didn’t start moving soon, he’d lose the hard on that just came back.

“It just feels too good,” Rintarou murmured. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted up. “You’re so tight.” Motoya thrusted his hips, circling them in a way that got Rintarou’s attention. “Toya—“ He said warningly. He held Motoya’s hips tightly, almost bruising, as Motoya smirked and kept trying to move. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Rintarou snapped his hips and railed into Motoya at a grueling pace. One hand gripped Motoya’s shoulder possessively holding him. It was exactly how Motoya wanted to be fucked—he felt like he was being flattened into the bed, like all the air was being knocked out of him.

Rintarou slowed his pace to a near stop to pump Motoya’s cock, which sat red and at attention.  He used his other hand to pinch and tease Motoya’s nipple, which sent a zap up Motoya’s spine.

Arching and gasping, he sat warming Rintarou’s cock, while his dick was showered with lavish attention. He tried to move—to get more leverage for his hips, but Rintarou held him down and bit his shoulder, sucking and pulling at the skin with his teeth, all the while still stroking him. His head swam and he whined in delight, heat pooled in his stomach.

“Rin, I—I’m close.”

Rintarou started moving his hips in time with his strokes. “Be good and come for me, ‘Toya.”  And he did. They were rewarded with a little spend to add to the pool on Motoya’s chest.

Rintarou loved to see how Motoya’s face scrunched, how flushed he became, how blissed out he looked, how he lost all the bones in his body when he came. He kissed Motoya as he came down through a lazy smile.

“I saw some vibrators in your drawer. Should we get them for the next round?” Rintarou looked at the drawer.

“Yes, let’s get the vibrator.” Unfortunately, that meant that Rintarou had to slide out of him and he was left feeling empty.

Another round would presume the end of the first, but Rintarou hadn’t even come yet. Motoya had to remind himself that not everyone could come 5 times or more in a row like him—that was acquired stamina. Most people were one-and-done; he was lucky that Rin was indulging him this way. He was lucky Rin was still going—his achingly red cock looked like it wanted relief so badly—he was probably edging himself at this point. God, that was so hot.

“Uhh, which one?” Rintarou held up two bullets that dangled from some wires attached to a button and another that was a cock ring. He had forgotten about that one. “Both?”

Oh, he’d never used both before. “Both,” he agreed.

He held out his hand to take them, but Rintarou held the items back. “I got it.”

So he laid back on the bed with his hands behind his head and let Rintarou get to work putting them on. Rintarou pushed both bullets in as far as he could get them and then pulled the stretchy silicone cock ring around Motoya’s dick. The ring had a little slot for another bullet which needed to be turned on and then inserted, which Rintarou did with ease.

When he put that last bullet in place—the only bullet actually on so far—Motoya was already beginning to feel heat pooling in his gut as he started to get hard again. Maybe he’d be crying sooner than he usually does. The overstimulation was beginning to take hold and build inside of him. The vibrations felt good—too good—to the point that his brain was slowly melting. It felt like pins and needles that grew slowly over his body. He could feel the pressure growing from the bottom of his spine up to the top of his head. He began to float and that’s when the other two bullets turned on.

Motoya stiffened and let a guttural moan loose from the depths of his soul. He could feel Rintarou lining up as he was asked, “Does that feel good? Are you okay? Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Yes. Yes. Yes.” Motoya’s eyes rolled backwards as Rintarou entered him. Every time the bullets were fucked into his prostate, he screamed in pleasure. Maybe if he screamed more, he could release the pressure building in his body? Tears gathered at the corners of his lashes and his chest felt like it was ready to explode. The vibrators were too much in the best possible way. He was overcome with emotion that needed to get out and the screaming wasn't helping. 

It didn’t take long before tears were rolling down Motoya’s face—it was too much, too good, too perfect. His head was fuzzy. He couldn't think. He needed to come. He was close, so close, but couldn’t say so. His words were stuck in his throat. He made eye contact with Rintarou and it nearly sent him over the edge to be looked at through dark, lidded eyes that way.

“You’re so sexy,” Rintarou said as he bent down and licked the tear rolling down Motoya’s face. This time he didn’t need to be asked to come. That did it. The orgasm wracked through him and he felt like he was floating away from his body, the bed, his head, this mortal plane. Tears continued to flow. And he slowly floated back with the vague understanding that Rintarou had come too. He wasn’t sure he had ever come so hard in his life. 

Before he knew it, the bullets were all removed and Rintarou was holding him, burrowing into his neck as he shivered.

“Shit.” Motoya covered his face. Rintarou stiffened, but relaxed when Motoya huffed out a laugh under his breath. “That was—you licked my face?”

“What? You didn’t like it?” Rintarou held him a little tighter, almost defensively.

“I think the problem is that I liked it a little too much.” In fact, he loved it. He wanted it again.

He could feel Rin smiling into his neck. Motoya felt all the warm and fuzzies that he’d never felt after sex before.

—

Seeing Motoya cry like that? Rintarou didn’t think it’d be that hot when Motoya first mentioned it—in fact, he was a little apprehensive at first. He wasn’t sure what empowered him to lick Motoya either, but in the moment, everything just felt right. Normally, he didn’t think crying would be his thing, but knowing that Motoya wanted it and enjoyed it that much? So fucking hot. Seeing Motoya come so much too? Shit. 

Rintarou wished he had it on video. He would replay it over and over in his mind from now until the end of time. Now he could definitely never shower after practice together again.

“Rin, did you hear me?” Motoya turned his head to try to look at him. They laid in the bed and cuddled after Rintarou had cleaned them both up.

“Hm?”

“I said, we’ll have to do that again.”

Again? Hell yes. Rintarou smiled. He hoped there’d be a lot of agains.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Spoilers: they wouldn't even be able to count the number of agains there would be. 

[truebluewhocanoe]

The True Blue You- Author Commentary

Author Notes

Hi! This is the extended Author’s Notes for my fic “The True Blue You”, which you should definitely read BEFORE reading this post.

I like the Dr Nyarlathotep niche of Doctor Who fandom a lot. I want more Dr Nyarlathotep content (that isn’t porn). I figured a good way to promote that would be to write out my own thoughts on one of my Dr Nyarlathotep works and talk about how it came together. This is that! Most of this is going to be me talking about particular passages from the fic, the thought that went into them, and the references to other stuff that I’ve snuck in. ✨Let’s begin✨

Commentary

Hence his search for the Zero Room. Wherever he left it. So that he can unravel the extradimensional parts of himself into three-dimensional space and check that everything is in order.

Finding a good word for the Doctor letting out all their Nyarly was hard but I eventually settled on “unravel” and “unfurl”, mainly for the fabric & knitting connotations, because Looms. Aw yeah.

First comes the extraspatial limbs, then the temporal ones. His temporal tendrils and hooks hang in the air around him; vestigial eyes, the crystallised irises of his past bodies, dot his face. He snags a hook on one of his sleeves; he can taste its timeline, senses tracing the thread’s creation and transformation into a garment, tears and stains and cleanings. He deftly unhooks it, then takes a closer look at the sleeve with his fifth set of eyes. Microwave reflections let him peek into the molecular structure. 

First things first: this fic is, as is probably quite obvious to anyone familiar with the Dr Nyarlathotep tag, inspired by “In The Holding Tank I Built For Myself”, which I consider to be more or less the definitive work of this fandom niche. One of the many things I took from Holding Tank and incorporated into my own Dr Nyarlathotep headcanons is the idea that bits of the Doctor’s old bodies get repurposed into their extradimensional body. One of the lines of Holding Tank that stuck out to me the most was the Fifth Doctor’s eyes looking back up at the Doctor- which ends up being pivotal to this fic.

Second: I never actually explain how the Doctor’s clothes adjust to him going Nyarly. I’m not going to explain here, either.

He stretches his wings one set at a time, starting with the small, webbed ones at the base of his primary spine all the way up to the feathered vortex-gliders that span the width of the room when fully outstretched. (And, it should be noted, the Zero Room is much larger than it appears.)

This was inspired by a very old tumblr post (which I can’t find now!!!) headcanoning Time Lords are being, essentially, Time Vortex dragons. The implication is that Time Lords can, in fact, fly around in the vortex under their own power, but use TARDISes to do so the same way we use ships to cross the ocean instead of swimming it. I love this concept and had to weave it in to my personal Nyarly canon.

His hair unspools from short blond curls into nigh-Samsonian locks, closer to fibre-optic cables than keratin follicles. A crown of hard-photon horns sorts the strands, with ivory halos at regular intervals down the length to keep the bundles from separating. He leaves the ends in mind-space where they loop around the TARDIS's psychic docks. He runs his aft right hands through the hairs, untangling knots with crystal-jointed fingers.

I want to say that the Doctor getting extra long glowy anime hair was inspired by Sixie going super saiyan in the PDA The Quantum Archangel and the relevant trope from Dragonball Z, but this section was written within a couple days of the trailer for Xenoblade Chronicles 3 - Future Redeemed coming out, in which another favorite blond character of mine is revealed to have grown out his hair really long, so that’s probably where I actually got the idea from.

Time Lords plugging their hair into their TARDISes to communicate psychically was probably subconsciously inspired by Avatar (the blue people one, not The Last Airbender.)

“Crystal joints” is a phrase I use in another Dr Nyarlathotep fic of mine, A Black Fire Burning, which you could definitely say was the prototype for this fic.

Yes, the Doctor has both halos and horns, and yes, they are used for cable management. Deal with it.

Letting all of himself out is like taking off a corset after a long night.

I’ll let you decide which Doctor out of the First through Fifth has worn a corset. (My money’s on Three.)

She can’t sleep.

You might find some parallels between this fic and my last Who fic, After the Archangel, which also consists of a companion hashing things out with a Doctor after being unable to sleep due to a traumatizing adventure. I guess I have a type.

Which leads her back to the elephant in the room. The Doctor wasn’t like this when she first met her. The Doctor she’d met had been open and amiable and polite. And then he died and left her with someone she didn’t understand. Someone who apparently was not alright in the head after having come back to life, who is supposedly fine now but not the same as the way he was before.

And so we reach the elephant in the room that is this fic: I do not like that Big Finish tried to squeeze in more adventures with the Fifth Doctor and Peri between Planet of Fire and Caves of Androzani. It ruins all the appeal of their dynamic (not to mention the latter episode, one of the most beloved in all of Classic Who) and just isn’t necessary. So yeah, those episodes are not canon to this fic, and in fact you could say that the conflict of this story is in protest of their existence.

This fic hinges on the fact that Peri still would’ve had a bumpy go of things with the Fifth Doctor, because he also wasn’t a very pleasant guy to most of his companions (no shade, that’s just how 80s Who went), and also ran into a ton of extremely horrible situations! Peri’s successful companionship with the Doctor comes in spite of those facts. 

Writing the dynamic (and specifically, power dynamic) between Peri and the Doctor is a very tricky wire to walk but I think I did okay, in the end. The Sixth Doctor and Peri boxset by Big Finish ends on a note of the Doctor and Peri accepting that their life together probably isn’t very sane or healthy, but they do it anyways because they enjoy it. That’s the perspective I was trying to convey here. But that’s jumping the gun a little- let’s go back to the fic.

She looks at it, a great big thorny mass, as if M.C. Escher had knitted a scarf out of barbed wire. Then, without her even blinking, the thing bends, changing without changing, the duck’s head into a rabbit’s, and she sees a great spider’s web, or perhaps anemone, a thing of tendrils and gravity-defying lines. 

The ‘thorny mass’ is inspired by a certain alien structure in the book Blindsight by Peter Watts. I finished reading it right around when I started writing this fic and really wanted to sneak in something from it, mainly because it’s a great sci-fi horror book (as much as describing it as such is an injustice to all it is.) The “duck’s head into a rabbit’s” is a reference to the duck-rabbit illusion, which is also utilized in Blindsight. (Seriously, even referencing that book in my own work is a grave act of authorial hubris. I am not worthy!)

Then, something catches her attention, a blip on the radar of her millennia-made pattern-matching instincts, a slap of color and pattern that can’t be right, must be a trick of the light, a name in the static, Virgin Mary in the burnt toast. 

Invoking pareidolia here.

like the figurehead on the bow of a great ship

This was one of the central mental images I had going into this fic.

Humans consider the smooth eversion of a sphere, the simplest three-dimensional object, to be a form of paradox

“Smooth eversion of a sphere” means turning it inside out without breaking the rules of topology, as you might have seen explained in this perennially recommended YouTube video.

but his larboard greater forewing

Larboard is an outdated nautical term for “the left of the ship”, which was replaced by “port” due to how similar to “starboard” is sounded. Including it here is a reference to its infamous use in a certain fight in Final Fantasy XIV. I knew I wanted to use “larboard” to describe something of the Doctor’s Nyarlyness, which inspired the use of the similarly nautical “aft” earlier in the fic.

From seemingly random places across his body, purple-gold strands of what looks like stardust reach outwards, pulled taut clinging to thin air.

Inspired by, of all things, Origin Forme Giratina, as elucidated in this tumblr post.

She can’t make out his legs, the lower half of his body caught in a mirage with the posture of Schrodinger’s indecisive cat.

Of course, my headcanon for Sixie’s Nyarlathotep form is a bit more than “eldritch cat”, but I still wanted to work something feline in. The Doctor’s form seeming to be multiple things at once in a quantum sort of way was inspired by they'll turn me in your arms, lady by @lurking-latinist.

She can make out his face. It's almost the same, save for the spots that shine like jewels dotting it in two parallel lines like tear-trails beneath his eyes.

Knowing that the topmost pair of "jewels" is the Fifth Doctor's eyes, the mentioned “dozen" implies that every regeneration adds another pair, bumping the rest further down. A Time Lord on their last regeneration probably has eyes down to their collarbones!

Hold on, his arm shouldn't be bending that far. Counts the fingers on each hand- six. Wait, that’s not right.

I originally planned a bit where the Doctor held up all his fingers when checking that Peri was OK, only for her to count more than ten of them, but it didn't really work logistically (moved the Doctor checking Peri from the hallway to her room) or tonally (not the right place for humor.)

aquamarine nodules

I solemnly vow to never refer to the Fifth Doctor's eyes as "aquamarine nodules" ever again.

Hey, at least I didn’t call them "orbs"

“Um, Zee- Zed, sorry, Y, X, W, U, no, I mean V, then U, T, S, Q- is it Q?”

[...]

“Um, I was a kid playing in the backyard and a ladybug landed on my hand,” she manages to spit out, “And my mom told me about how they’re helpful because they eat other bugs.”

The Doctor sticks out an index finger, pointing up. “Follow my finger with your eyes and tell me more about ladybirds.”

“Lady- oh, right.

Emphasizing the emotional distance between two characters by highlighting their linguistic differences.

She couldn't quite make out what it was he was expecting her to say, so instead she looks a bit higher, at the strangely familiar blue… things… on his face.

Can you tell that I REALLY didn't want to call them orbs?

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, Peri," he responds, and she expects him to leave it at that but he continues, "Wanderlust is a powerful thing, not to mention its cousin, curiosity. I can only speak from my own experiences, but I find the more painful parts of the universe to spur me further onwards. Both to find the brighter spots, and to help where I can."

[...]

"In all my experience with your kind, Peri, I've found that no one is ever 'just' something. You're much, much more than that, Perpugilliam Brown."

Writing TV!Sixth Doctor is hard. Really hard. It’s hard to pull something consistent out of a character that was being actively sabotaged by the writers. So if it seems like EU!Sixth Doctor just shows up out of nowhere once we switch to Peri’s last POV section: sorry! I tried my best to communicate how unsure the Doctor is of where he takes this conversation. He’s more or less defaulting to mirroring what Peri throws at him… right when she takes a leap of faith and opens up to him. This is, more or less, supposed to be the moment in Sixie’s life where he realizes the value of not being so damn prickly all the time. He comes out of this story kind, if not quite wise to human nature yet. He’ll get there!

He pauses, and reaches up to feel his face. Back to normal. 

An idea occurred to me to imply that some remnant of the Fifth Doctor kept the eyes out in a really weird self-wingman tactic, but I don't like the implication that the past incarnations are separate consciousnesses, so I didn't go through with it

It's at that moment the Doctor realizes that Peri is, for all intents and purposes, more accepting of his being a polydimensional monstrosity with vestigial bits of his own corpses repurposed as sensory organs, than she is of his fashion sense.

“Monstrous” being the word that the Doctor mouthed earlier to complete Peri’s sentence. The biggest difference between this fic and the aforementioned Holding Tank is that the Sixth Doctor lacks the self-hatred the Doctor has regarding his Nyarlyness in that fic (and that the Fifth Doctor is implied to have in this one.) That’s TV!Six’s pride coming in to play. But as we see after Peri sees him, he’s got some frustrations with the fact that his full existence is inherently dangerous to other species. At some point during his conversation with Peri, it does occur to him that she very easily could have left the TARDIS over this, hence his final words to her before bidding her goodnight.

Closing Thoughts

Overall, my goals for this fic were: 1. Believably write the Doctor and Peri coming to an understanding after Season 22 that doesn’t just full-on retcon the shitty writing (yes, a lot of their interactions that season are just poorly written.) and 2. Write a long Dr Nyarlathotep fic that doesn’t resort to just making the Sixth Doctor an eldritch cat AND doesn’t use the word “tentacle” at any point, because that’s not what I’m about. I personally think I met both those goals, so I’m quite proud! Hopefully it produced a fun read. And thank you for reading this full-on author commentary!

[zaenaris]

I loved the idea that you wrote in one of your fics, about Senju being passive aggressive with Waka and Benkei. I mean they may have had their reasons to go with Mikey (and it's not very clear when we read it) but they still abandonned Senju. and i'm pretty sure that, since they had abandonnement issues, it has deeply hurted her.

Also do you think that Mikey anbd Sanzu are in prison in your mabu post fight fic?

thank you for reading my fic❤️

yeah, after the fight, of course she'd be happy to have Waka and Benkei back, but their whole modus operandi was really stupid, even Inupi said it in their face that what they were doing made no sense

And we know Benkei and Waka were brother figures to her, and were Inupi's senpais, both Seishu and Senju cared about them and had a good relationship with them until before the KMG fight.

Inupi's priority was to get Koko back, and he did, therefore he can... let slide(?) the thing a little more (he still believes Waka and Benkei acted like fools, but he can also see that they didn't know how to help MIkey and they probably felt guilty they later stayed more with Senju after Shin's death, rather than Mikey - here I also personally headcanon that Waka started having drinking problems after Shin's death, but since he already had the gym with Benkei, he(Benkei) helped Waka. Of course we know Takeomi had his problems as well after BD disbanded and after Shin's death, but Waka and Benkei seem to have a deeper bond with each other rather than with Takeomi, that according to his profile in the 4th character book, look down on him)

meanwhile, Senju wanted to save Haru and to understand what happened to BenWaka, that had been with her for all that time, so she would have taken it more personally, even if she also realized they probably felt sorry for Mikey. Yet, I think for a few time she would be a little mad at them, but happy the're back

in general yes, i think sooner or later mikey and sanzu would end up in juvie for a while. Kakucho was stabbed/killed(?) and Takemichi as well, it's impossible to hide those things, there would have been an investigation. But I believe that, even with juvie, it would have been for the better. Mikey, as Draken believed was necessary, would have “looked at the sky” metaphorically after a defeat; we know when he felt guilty he let other people hit him and i think that, even if many things were the dark impulses fault, Mikey was still "sentient" in many moments and he allowed some not okay things, that's why i think that some time in juvie would help him feel that he'd made amends for everything.

same with sanzu, he was a victim of DI too and he also saw some terrible things in the other TL, that's why he had so many problems. But i think that afte the defeat of the DI, he would improve as well

[rozugold]

Hello friend!!

Apologies for the wait it took me to respond to you — I only just checked back in with my ao3 account and noticed your comment, and since you don’t have an account yourself I’m unsure if you’d see my reply. So here I am, plaguing your inbox with it instead! I do hope it isn’t a bother, haha.

I was really very happy to see your name again. Admittedly I’ve saved all the incredible artwork my fic received over the course of my writing it, but yours genuinely have a very special place in my heart as some of the first and last I ever received. I still recall opening my inbox and seeing the notification the first time; it was so surreal to me that people would draw anything based on my works. Your art of Tommy and Techno sitting back to back, as well as your art of the forest trio at the end, serve almost as mental book-ends for me; I return to them often just to admire it, and to remember how happy it all made me. I can hardly believe it’s been more than two years, goodness.

I was also shocked to hear you may be putting together a playlist—if you would be so kind, I would love to know what songs might be on it! At your leisure of course, and only if you feel like sharing it, the thought alone is more than enough <3 thank you kindly for all of your support, truly, and once again for your gorgeous art. The memories have gotten me through many a dark day.

- Que (WWHWI)

HELLOOO QUEEEE it’s so good to hear from you again :D!!!! And yeah I should really get on getting an account already, it would probably make things a lot more convenient. BUT account or not you’re always welcomed to plague my inbox :]

And waaa I’m happy that you still like the fanart I made! I’m glad it’s stuck with you as much as your writing has stuck with me. SPEAKING OF WRITING I forgot you had so much of it??? Once life settles down a bit im definitely gonna make my way through them, so don’t be surprised if you see my name in the comments later on eheheh

AND YES PLAYLIST!! OK if I’m gonna be honest, the reason I started making this is because of god of war sjshSJDHD Every time I get into new media it only gives me ideas for the old media I’m trying to escape /j Two years man, and still these blorbos live in my brain rent free

I’m gonna ramble about each song now >:D warning spoilers for if you hadn’t read the fic!

First is Cave by Cody Fry! I wanted an instrumental to start it off and a song to represent the explosion of Manburg; I think this song serves that purpose well!

Half-Mast by Branches is a song I use in my other dsmp related playlists to represent Doomsday but it works so well in this context

^ this bit especially reminds me of Tommy and Wilbur ;;;;;

Casualty by Hidden Citizens & Tash is just absolutely perfect for Tommy. The scene of him screaming out in grief surrounded by the rubble that used to be his home- waaa it’s so good, both the song and scene

Sorrow by Sleeping at Last is for Tommy slowly learning how to live after the explosion (or at least learn how to function again :[ pobrecito..)

The Corner Dwellers by The Vocal Few is a Techno and Tommy song! It simply reminds me of them :’]

To Forgive or to Kill by Bear McCreary was chosen mostly for the title and the fact that it was from the God of War soundtrack skdhdhdh Incase you’re unfamiliar with the game, this song plays during a scene where one of the main characters is debating on whether to forgive or kill another character but ultimately realizes that she can’t do either. So naturally I thought this song would be good for when Tommy saves Schlatt from Technoblade! I’d like to have more instrumentals in this playlist but we shall see,, I’m very picky when it comes to instrumentals skdjddj

Carnivore by Bear Attack! Ok I might replace this song with something else later since it reminds me of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship more than Tommy and Schlatt’s from WWHWI. But it’s works for now! Something to represent their first argument chat after the whole getting locked up bit

Marble Floors by Vian Izak & Juniper Vale is here to sorta represent Tommy longing for his life before the explosion and when he still had Tubbo.

^ also just,, this bit.. Ow

Drown by Seafret is for when Tommy gets blown up by the creeper. Just that scene where it starts off as a dream sequence then slowly twists until he’s suddenly shocked back into reality— GOSH it’s so good. And then the crisis he has afterwards when he bandages himself up, it’s probably my favorite scene. It’s so well done and makes me feel so much ;;;;;

Battling Life by The Dunwells is for Technoblade!! (And a little for Tommy too, now that I’m looking at the lyrics again) Gosh, the man gets injured but he doesn’t let that stop him from taking care of things and taking care of Tommy. You captured his perseverance and stubbornness perfectly :’]

Blood Upon the Snow by Hozier & Bear McCreary! Here I go, to shamelessly smoosh two of my interests together again skdhdj This song is also for Technoblade but more for his exhausted god-ness you characterize him with. (Atleast I think he’s a god in WWHWI? Or is he just a well known champion? Immortal? My memory sucks, I’ll have to find out when I reread it) This song is just super cool and reminded me of technoblade and is part of the reason why I started making this playlist skdjdjjd

Brother by Kodaline… what is there to say? They’re brothers :’’] BUT ALSO WHILE SKIMMING CHAPTER 15 EARLIER I FOUND THIS LINE: “"Stay here," he said to the man who'd long since become his family…” HELLO?? EXCuse me while I go sob

Sirens by Oliver Daldry, I may be wildly misinterpreting this song for this playlist but SCREW IT it reminds me of them okay

This repeating lyric serves as a little nod to the fact that this is an au. How Techno, Tommy and Schlatt would have all been strangers in this world if certain circumstances didn’t lead them to eachother

This bit reminds me of Schlatt @ Tommy, I don’t think he ever outright asks for forgiveness but in time they both find some peace with eachother.

All three of them are so different from eachother but they still care for eachother :’]

The Cave by Mumford & Sons acts as a sort of summary of this story to me! I imagine the first verse is from Techno’s pov, the second is from Tommy’s, and the last is from Schlatt’s.

This bit changes meaning depending on the pov. For Techno it’s him taking care of Tommy, ‘changing his ways’ yknow, or atleast adding the family role to his list of titles.

For Tommy it’d be him taking care of Techno, “finding strength in pain” and learning to move forward despite everything that’s happened

And for Schlatt it’s for him rushing out to help Tommy and Techno during the final battle. Man doesn’t even hesitate :’D

Gosh and just the line “I’ll know my name as it’s called again”. All three of them grew into people they never thought they’d be!! And despite a huge part of their lives is shaped from tragedy they’re okay in the end. It was far from easy but they’re okay. And that’s just so comforting yknow? This story is so comforting and beautiful and raw and I just love it with all my being ;;;;;

Wow that was long and a little all over the place lol!! I’m still working on this playlist as I go but that’s all I have so far :]

[simplytheevebest]

Headcanon Time: Farah's Recovery (from the opinion of a non-doctor who did surface-level research and absolutely doesn't claim to know what she's talking about)

Considering how involved and concerned Terra was with Musa's magical recovery, I can only imagine how involved she'd be with Farah's. Musa gave up lost her magic but Farah was "dead" for an indeterminate amount of time(? I can't remember if it was said how long), came back as a force ghost trapped in a fern, and then had to recharge her magic and strength to regain her corporeal form (this is what happened, fight me canon).

But like, taking away the death-not-death magical aspect and just looking at a physical recovery, and setting aside that canonically Farah's body would've needed to be "regained" because I personally much prefer the headcanon that she rose from the grave, spirit and body intact, you can't just jump up from such a lengthy period of inactivity and be fine. It's been anywhere from a few months to a year since the events of season 1 (if season 1 took place during the winter semester and Rosalind took over for the spring semester it's been a few months; if we pick up during the new fall semester it's been about half a year). That's a long time not to be moving or working your brain (also depending on when she was found). Terra mentioned physical therapy for Musa concerning her wounds, and I personally know people who have had surgeries and recovered from horrible injuries and had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat, etc. So I definitely subscribe to the idea that Farah will need this too.

Combining my love of angsty realism and the magic of Fate, Farah has a long road of recovery ahead of her and she's never going to be just as she was before. Like even if you injure yourself in some smaller way, it can impact your health years into the future. I almost broke my toe over a decade ago and to this day it aches in the rain and humidity. Farah's likely already got scars from serving under Rosalind, which isn't going to help her recovery from literally dying either. So right out of the gate she's probably definitely going to have to regain motor function and she's highly likely to need to regain mental strength as well. And realistically there are other world doctors who would step in to properly assess but that sounds exhausting so instead, Ben and Terra are in charge of Farah's recovery and Terra is absolutely going to make sure Farah sticks to it because lord knows Farah won't be diligent. Yet she'll be impatient and frustrated at herself for not being able to walk short distances without her legs shaking or running out of breath, or being unable to pin up her hair because her arms can't support themselves. She might struggle to get her fingers to cooperate to write, or muddle words and phrases in her head and be unable to coherently express them. She won't be able to teach a class, or go on walks, or maybe even eat without assistance at first. She won't be able to do paperwork, or speak her thoughts clearly, or write down what she wants to say if she can't speak it.

There's a whole host of other things that could impact her: impaired motor function, nerve damage, brain damage, crush syndrome, respiratory issues, cardiac issues, seizures, numbness, organ failure, paralysis, etc. Like I've never been buried alive so I can't speak from experience nor do I know anyone that has, but just imagining, magic aside, that she was essentially in a coma underground for a week at least definitely means she's not coming out unscathed. And considering the magic would've saved her from the worst of it (the irreparable life-threatening complications like necrosis or organ failure) I still choose to believe she's going to have to relearn some skills and rebuild her strength because even if she remembers how to walk, she might not have the muscle strength to do so.

Which of course opens the door for so many angsty hurt/comfort fics (and I have read some excellent ones that are escaping me, forgive me) of the teens convincing Farah to take it easy on herself because they love and care about her, or Saul helping Farah with her hair after she tearfully concedes she needs the help. Because Farah is strong and proud and she won't want to admit weakness even when she has so many to support her. And sure, perhaps her recovery isn't that extensive, it depends on your interpretation of her injuries, but these are just a few examples of ways she could be impacted.

And then there's her magic. She's a mind fairy, so if her mind itself is healing there's no way she's going to have total control over her powers from the get-go. Which means intrusive thoughts and feelings of others in her head without being able to block them out, accidental projecting onto others, headaches, and that's just the mind. Farah is also a master of the other magics, so now we're considering random lights going on and off or exploding, liquids boiling over or freezing solid. Plants growing out of control, random flying objects from her haywire telekinesis. We had a glimpse into out of control magic when the Winx channeled it into the stone and forgot to cut it off. Farah is unfathomably more powerful than them, so her magic going off the cuff is problematic and potentially dangerous.

The magic is what's going to get to Farah the most, I think, because so much of her identity is rooted in being the powerful fairy she is, and especially because of Rosalind's influence. With her magic being so uncontrollable, she's going to suggest that the runic limiters be put on herself, and there's not a single person who will agree to that. Farah is going to have to practice what she preaches and be patient and kind with her own magic rehabilitation just as she is with her students. And I think Stella would be an excellent candidate for this, because she's benefited from Farah's teachings the most. And for all of s2's faults, I really did love and enjoy the character development with Stella because she really came into her own this season and demonstrated, to me, the kind of queen she will be, which according to her positive feelings towards Farah in the prequel, is likely very much influenced by Farah. So to have Stella directly involved in helping rehabilitate Farah's magic as Farah did for her is, I think, a great little parallel moment.

Again, I'm not a doctor, nor do I possess any reliable medical knowledge beyond my obsession with medical dramas, which is to say I have no clue what is and is not something that could be a side effect of being comatose and buried alive while also spreading your life force into the plants around you. But this is a show about fairies and magic so I'm allowing myself a bit of slack with accuracy here, because it's become my personal headcanon that Farah required physical, mental, and magical therapy after her nap and it was a long, slow process hindered by her own impatience and final confrontation with Rosalind, in which she was definitely not up to full power and probably would've died for real if, say, Bloom hadn't stepped in to vaporize Rosalind to save her headmistress. I'm just drawn to the idea of Farah's recovery having that ounce of realism that means she doesn't just wake up and go about like it's a normal day. Let her injuries be real and life changing as is the case for so many people, and let her have the support and love of others to rely on. No quick fix. But that's just me.

[sapphicwhxre]

ASTERIA'S 2.5K FOLLOWER FIC REC LIST

i read fics just as much as i write them so here are some of my favourites. tysmsm for this milestone, i love you all <3 quick note: i didn't re-tag anyone if i recommended more than one of your works because of the tag limit.

───────── girls ─────────

hermione granger

tuesdays - @stupxfy

probably one of my all time favs for hermione. it's just so well written and adorable and fluffy and yes.

if i could tell her - @hellounicorn

pining, pining, PINING. the way these emotions and hermione's described is just... art. perfection. there's a happy ending and it is so worth the build up.

darling dearest - @dracolvr

fluffy goodness. read to be hopelessly in love with hermione ─ which, let's be real, we all are.

november rain - @pansydaisy

uhm i love this one sm. it's so simple but amazing ─ everyone has their days like this and having hermione to cure them? it's what everyone needs.

i need more - @15-dogs

i sobbed the first time i read this. it'll break your heart but it's so amazingly written that it's worth the sadness. actual gut wrenching / mindblowing writing.

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

the title. need i say more?

honeyed eyes - @minty-malfoy

HEAVEN. being hermione's first kiss as friend? but both of you idiots liking each other? oh my god, sign me up.

hugging her from behind - @pastanest

again, the title. read to feel 🥺💙

grey days - @pepperimps01

PANSMIONE 😌😌 it's angsty with a happy ending and i love it sm. this does such a perfect job of capturing pansy and hermione's relationship growing and having its ups and downs with just a few paragraphs. honestly so good

grenade - @hellounicorn

another one that'll make your heart shatter. but in the best way. these are the fics i live for where the you can't help but feel like it's really happening to you and hermione and god it's so fucking powerful. underrated writing right here in general. and also pansmione is the loml so it hurts in that way.

honeybees - @pansydaisy

fluffy aesthetic heaven.

lead the way - @teacup-tai

more pansmione but this is pure filthy thinking and satisfies all the sexual tension dreams pansmione shippers have.

two queens in a king sized bed - @shysneeze

domestic christmas morning with hermione and it's angelic.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

one of those blurbs i never imagined i'd read or love so much. not to mention it's spot on and adorable.

pansy parkinson

right and wrong - @starrkidmalfoy

a first kiss and the overdone trope that i will never get sick of, the bitch who's soft only for you. the descriptions in this are perfection and the writing is beautiful <3

messed up - @writseo

toxic, messed up love fics will be the death of me. insane how well you captured it all and i just yes damn fucking props.

pansy parkinson imagine - @moonlight-imagines

*screams* THE BEST FRIEND BANTER + THE ENDING OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ─ I SCREAMED WHEN I FIRST READ THIS. I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE IT.

dating pansy would include - @lotsoffandomimagines

ABSOLUTE POWER COUPLE SHIT and to this day, pansy saying "jealous much?" when being scolded for pda remains iconic.

grey days - @pepperimps01

as i said before: PANSMIONE 😌😌 it's angsty with a happy ending and i love it sm. this does such a perfect job of capturing pansy and hermione's relationship growing and having its ups and downs with just a few paragraphs. honestly so good

new rules - @silversslytherin

excuse me this is immaculate ─ pansy is the best friend and the second you see that she's also the best s/o, you're done for. perfection.

study "dates" - @turning-dreams-into-chaos

the title is self explanatory and this whole thing is fluffy heaven <3

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

read the title, thank me later.

lead the way - @teacup-tai

more pansmione but this is pure filthy thinking and satisfies all the sexual tension dreams pansmione shippers have.

traitor - @hufflepuff-writings

a masterpiece where pansy chooses the wrong side in the battle of hogwarts. this ties up so well and the writing is so powerful.

back alley love potions - @a-simple-imagine

this actually hurts but in a beautiful way. watching pansy give draco a love potion is such a fucking concept and this is executed incredibly.

my little bunny - @emmamarie7708

pansy making you do this is so dirty yet she's slightly sweet and i am a sucker for it. god is a woman and her name is pansy fucking parkinson.

pansy parkinson imagine - @moonlight-imagines

i'll let pansy beat people up for me all day. they put me in madame pomfrey's, feel my girlfriend's wrath.

ginny weasley

blissful - @enyastasia

fluffy ginny goodness. the friends to lovers? the amazing kiss? 🥺🥺🥺💞💞 this fic lives in my heart <3

bubble pop electric - @hunnypot-imagines

this is hotter than a lot of actual smut and the chemistry is so... wow. ginny weasley owns me.

dear ginny - @alyssamalfoy

how does this short ass letter manage to make me feel so much. it's sorcery but i don't even care, it's beautiful.

wildflower - @pansydaisy

will i ever get tired of cheeky i love yous? not when loves like ginny weasley and ayli's so so pretty writing exist.

all i want - @hellounicorn

ouch. fuck you harry :) quite possibly the best ginny fic i have ever read. insanely talented writing, i genuinely feel every touch of emotion you put down and you need to know how amazing that is. keep breaking my heart.

linny hcs - @bluebirdlinginthenest

who doesn't need good linny content in their life?

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

sexy bitch, fuck me up.

willow - @padmeamiala

ginny is the loml. her brothers can cry about it.

bellatrix lestrange

attempting to bake with bellatrix - @carters-coffee

MY FAVOURITE BELLA FIC ─ there's not enough bellatrix fluff out there but this makes up for the lack of. heaven.

bellatrix prompt - @carters-coffee

this gives me chills. she knows she's a bad bitch and that's what we love about her.

change of plans - @dumb-sbian

why THE FUCK have i not had a rainy morning with bellatrix? she can sleep and mumble something just like this and i'm still head over heels for her.

being tortured as bellatrix's girlfriend - @writings-of-a-british-fangirl

definitely a concept BUT this makes me feel some type of way and i recommend giving it a minute of your time 😌

bellatrix finding out you're a muggleborn - @carters-coffee

the beauty, the nuance omg. this is art.

bellatrix prompt - @carters-coffee

yep jealous bella. trust me, im all yours mommy <3

sex with bellatrix would include - @onegayastronaut

so short but... sign. me. up.

luna lovegood

never leave - @/deactivated

luna smut is hard asf to come by and this is my favourite. it's so luna and the pain over her not knowing, not getting that closure about how you feel until this is an amazing rollercoaster.

she - @hunnypot-imagines

the beauty of falling in love with luna, through this majorly talented writing. ten out of fucking ten. i will not elaborate but there's also majorly good association in this imo.

silver berries and flickering fireflies - @duskgrangers

i love this fic so much. she's so herself and that is why we ✨ simp ✨ and the scene set just sounds so prettyy

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

luna + this title? yes please, ma'am i am simping.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

put me in your pocket luna. im begging you.

dancing in the rain with luna - @/deactivated

only luna would get you a dress to go dancing in the rain and this is the stuff of blissful, fluffy dreams.

hugging her from behind - @pastanest

short and cute, do me a favour and read it :)

dating luna lovegood would go like - @glossymalfoy

life is NOT worth it if you don't read these cute little headcanons and imagine dating ravenclaw's baddest bitch.

linny hc - @bluebirdlinginthenest

like i said, who doesn't need good linny content?

cho chang

strawberry kisses - @pansydaisy

the only cho fic i've been able to find and it's SO WORTH IT. the cutest, it flows so well, and i absolutely love it. i need this with cho tbh.

fleur delacour

toutes les etoiles - @coffee--writes

im in love with fleur and this amazing writing. and for the first time since i started high school, my three years of taking french feel good for something.

being best friends with fleur would include - @harrypotter-imaginess

not romantic but actually so sweet pls. i want this friendship in my life so bad.

nymphadora tonks

dating nymphadora tonks would include - @imaginesforgirls

dating her + that warm little feeling of bliss that only HCs can give you

taking care of her after the war - @random-imagines-blog

this kind of hurts in that good ass way and i lovee it. they're simple hcs but i feel for tonks so much and then there's that warm lil feeling when you're the one to put her back together aand now my primary life goal is to help this woman heal.

───────── boys ─────────

harry potter

phosphenes - @minty-malfoy

ok shakespeare, the fuck?? this fic will never not get me right in the heart. the angst, holy fuck. and for once, the reader doesn't hurt harry and let draco walk all over them and it's just done so well. the transition from a toxic relationship to a sweet, loving one PLEASE. it's beautiful.

happy memories - @15-dogs

how does this manage to be so. smutty and fluffy at the same time? this is one of those short ones that has lived in my head, rent-free since i read it. and tbh any fic that includes expecto patronum is guaranteed to be good.

come back to me - @wondernimbus

right from the beginning, it's a mess of emotions both good and bad. that kind of good ass writing that hits you in the heart <3

making out with harry potter would include - @badfvith

read this title. done? now thank me later.

harry prompt - @thoseofgreatambition

harry x a sarcastic swooning bitch is an elite trope idc. short and sweet, i'm marrying this fic.

keep your eyes on the prize - @rowema-ravenclaw

first of all, showing harry up and second, pure fluff (and a little steam) right after. i also love how she writes harry in general because he's totally safe/in love with the relationship but still has that awkward lovable shyness and i just... *sighs*

always - @pansydaisy

uhm i will always love him and always reread this a thousand times so its a fit title + a good read.

late night studying - @lumosandnoxwriting

fuck studying, let his hand stay in my shirt. once again recommending fluffy bliss in the form of a short read that makes me feel things <3

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

he's so stupid. but he still loves you + this is from our resident perfectly talented writer so its a win.

cuddling after a rough quidditch practice - @badfvith

harry james potter is : b a b y

gryffindor's victory - @rowema-ravenclaw

make me gryffindors fucking cheerleader because HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT. AND THE WRITING IS IMMACULATE PLEASE. just read it, you won't regret it.

draco malfoy

silent treatment - @slytherinwh0re

andy's mad talented and this is just... insert a cheesy chefs kiss. unbelievably adorable but so fucking hot and an actually good smut plot (which is rare lmfao). remind me to give draco the silent treatment every time im upset.

rewards - @malfoysstilinski

so hot PLS. hype him up for the match and get your reward, bye. so good.

reading between the lines - @minty-malfoy

i've said this a thousand times but that's what happens when you've got a mad talented mutual BLESSING everyone with beauty like this. butterflies and warm feelings all around when i read this 💓

point of view - @draconisxcaput

its angst for hermione and fluff for you but overall ethereal writing. i am never going to recover from the pure talent that this is.

im not kidding im dying - @malfoysmatrioshka

i hate being sick with a passion but this... this would make it worth it.

hogwarts express - @/deactivated

draco fucking you because he knows harry's watching. the shit of legends and god is it hot.

draco laughing at you because you can't walk after sex - @glossymalfoy

*motions to the title* fluff with this loser 😌

the cheeseburger - @slytherinwh0re

really short read but this is one of those things i just. didn't know i needed. you're missing out and haven't even realised it if you haven't read about introducing him to cheeseburgers. and that ending is so funny/in character to me i fucking love it.

four am - @malfoysstilinski

domestic draco 🥺 but also sad draco 🥺 and then fluffy draco 🥺

hugging him from behind - @pastanest

real short and it'll brighten your day <3

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

how is it that this is so stupidly adorable. i love it 💘

ron weasley

heather - @hellounicorn

always making me cry with your fics i swearrr. this is a must-read. having someone but them not really being yours is a beautiful trope and this fic absolutely does it wonderful, poetic justice. your angst is addicting.

apple pie - @pregnant-piggy

ABSOLUTE DOMESTIC BLISS I AM IN LOVE. i don't even like kids or baking that much but this made me so soft. the whole cozy, heavenly vibes from this fic yes yes yes.

jealousy - @writeroutoftime

cliché jealousy turns friends to lovers and i am a sucker for it all over again <3

shaking and trembling - @ronsbadidea

if ron doesn't finger fuck me and then make a cheeky comment about it in class later then WHAT IS THE POINT :(

mixed signals - @iamthecabbage

i've always figured ron is this awkward idiot cutie with a crush and yea, this is it.

fred and george weasley

i love you, but you don't - @george-fabian-weasley

fred's a character i really don't read for often but goddamn. it's the saddest, most beautiful mix of rejection and pain and fred desperately caring but not in the way you want him to ─ an angsty masterpiece.

cockwarming george - @roonilwazlibimagines

because of this filthy gem, i one hundred thousand percent believe that he could make me cum without even fucking me and this is just... it's a good fucking read.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

their responses are so wonderfully chaotic and adorable and GOD you're missing out if you haven't read these lil blurbs.

─

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Pieces - Chapter 1

Hi everyone!

Happy 45th Anniversary to Star Wars and Kenobi eve!!!! As a contribution to the celebrations, I've decided to kick off posting of my Commander Wolffe/OFC fic 'Pieces'!

For the posting schedule, I'll aim to release fortnightly on Sundays.

Synopsis:

Having trained her whole life to keep the peace, Jedi Padawan Issa Straun is thrust into the start of the Clone Wars, expected to take command of the 104th alongside the gruff Commander Wolffe. They wade through battle after battle, trying to find their feet sharing the responsibility of leadership under Plo Koon, but what neither of their training could prepare them for was how the war would leave scars to last a lifetime.

Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Pairing: Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun

Warnings: M - Canon typical violence, cursing

Word Count - 6.5k

A/N: I would just like to take the chance to thank the INCREDIBLE @wild-karrde who has listened to my ramblings about this fic month after month, who has dutifully beta read all my work and dealt with my abysmal grammar and punctuation. This story probably wouldn't exist without her backing and support and I am just eternally grateful, so thank you my friend!! 💚

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Blaster fire rained down, smashing into the crates surrounding them and making the commander wince as he ducked down further to protect his head. We need a new plan to get around these sniper droids. Across the battlefield, he watched as the rest of his troops got pushed back by the enemy’s ambush, retreating for whatever cover they could find. One of the shinies was knocked to the ground as he turned his back towards the enemy for cover, his shout of pain hardly registering over the battering of blaster bolts around them. 

A trickle of sweat slid down the commander’s temple beneath his helmet as he flexed his jaw at the sight of his downed trooper. Osik. “Sir, we’re pinned. Besh team can’t advance until we take out those snipers,” his sergeant’s voice crackled over their helmet comms, sounding more frustrated by the second. You and me both, the commander thought as he ground his teeth together even further while more debris showered over them from the enemy’s onslaught. The entire mission had gone aft up the second their boots hit the ground and they were faced with a much larger enemy force than intelligence had suggested.

The commander’s head cycled through images of previous battle simulations, trying to find any similar situations which could spark inspiration from the catalogue in his mind. After a few seconds, the memories behind his eyes halted on simulation 309216, one from his ARC training. We’ve got you now clankers. He felt it as his body thrummed with the pace of battle, his heart battering against his rib cage as he sucked in a few breaths before clicking on his comm.

”Alright troopers! Listen up. Aurek and Cresh teams, send out four troopers to distract the snipers, Besh will provide cover fire while the remaining groups make a break for the towers and load them with droid poppers. Any questions?”

“No sir!” 

“Good. On my mark… three… two… one, NOW!” 

Just as Aurek and Cresh teams made their advance, a monotonous voice cut through the blaster fight and stopped the clones in their tracks. 

“SIMULATION TERMINATED.” 

Immediately, the battlefield around them fritzed out of existence, leaving the troopers in a daze as the bright lights of Kamino’s training facility came back into focus once more. The soldiers present moaned at the loss of the battle, their adrenaline running high and blood boiling for the continued fight.

Their helmets snapped upwards as the speakers in the room crackled to life once more. “CC-3636, please report to Taun We’s office,” a Kaminoan’s voice boomed through the tannoy, echoing off the simulation room walls. 

Wolffe looked around. He could practically feel his troopers’ excitement in the air as the realisation of what was about to happen hit everyone in the room. It’s time. Since his helmet was on, he allowed himself a smirk before addressing his men. “Looks like we’re shipping out boys.” The room erupted in cheers and whoops, brothers in arms clapping each other enthusiastically on the back as they got ready to fulfil their true purpose. With an added spring in his step, Wolffe exited the training room to find out exactly who their battalion would be assigned to.

About damn time.

—---

Issa stared intently down at the sleeve of her auburn robe. The stitching had started to come apart, leaving some loose threads dangling from the seam. She pulled at one of them but it refused to budge, causing her face to scrunch at the offending string, as if it was personally mocking her. Beside her, a modulated chuckle sounded from her Master as he placed a clawed hand over her blue one, making her pause. “Relax, little one.”

“Sorry, Master,” the Pantoran sighed, not quite understanding why she was so nervous. Well that was a bit of a lie, it was very clear why she was nervous. Preparing to meet a battalion of cloned soldiers so that she could fight in a full-scale galactic war wasn’t really an everyday occurrence for the Jedi. She looked up at the Kel Dor next to her who was peering out the side of the transport they were on. Master Plo radiated tranquillity from his every pore and Issa had never been more jealous. There was so much unknown in their future that she was unable to let her feelings flow out into the Force. What was war like? How long will we be fighting? What will the clones be like? Can I actually fight and be the leader the army needs? The list goes on. Her mind refused to be silent as each question bounced back and forth. 

Trying to refocus, the young woman paid attention to her teacher once more. “Master, how are you so calm?” Issa questioned, hoping to find comfort in Master Plo’s inevitably wise words.

He turned to face her, a friendly softness around his eyes that always seemed to pull some of the weight off of her shoulders. “Because I trust in the Force, Issa. As do you. This new chapter may seem daunting and uncharted, but it is for the greater good of the galaxy, for the good of the Republic. I believe you are ready for this challenge. It will be difficult and there will be loss, but in the end, the light shall always prevail. Ensure you don’t forget that, even in the darkest of moments.” As expected, she hung off his every word. His conviction bathed her mind in a wave of calm and helped quell her spiralling nerves until they became nothing more than whispers. 

“I’ll try my best to remember that,” Issa replied with a smile which finally reached her dark eyes. Plo Koon nodded, a fond look overcoming his face as she put on a determined front. Compared to other humanoid species, Kel Dors lacked the usual facial tics hinting towards what emotions they were feeling. It’d taken years of spending time with her Master, but Issa now prided herself on being able to read the minute changes in his expression behind his mask.

With a slight jolt, the transport finally came to a halt. They could already hear the hustle and bustle of the ship yard: identical voices barking orders, people dashing about, drills and hydraulics hard at work. It was time. Issa pushed the goggles on her face higher up her nose out of habit and a need to do something with her hands. Her nerves settled into the pit of her stomach once more. 

“Ready, Commander?” Plo asked, his equivalent of a slight smirk evident behind his mask.

The Pantoran smiled back at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “About as ready as I’ll ever be, General”.

As they exited the shuttle, they were immediately hit with the notorious Coruscant smog. The humid and stifling air was made worse by the fumes being pumped out from the lower levels, so thick you could practically chew it. Coruscant had been Issa’s home for practically her whole life and she adored it, but the tangible atmosphere was one thing she always wished could be changed. 

“Master Plo, Padawan Straun it’s good to see you both,” a voice sounded from behind them. They turned, coming face to face with Master Shaak Ti, looking as poised and elegant as ever as she made her way towards them. Her hands were clasped under the long sleeves of her cloak as she strode forwards. “Are you ready to meet your men? I must say, from my brief interactions with them so far, I believe the 104th are some of the finest soldiers the GAR have to offer. You’ve been dealt a good hand.”

“We’re pleased to hear that,” Plo replied as the pair fell in step with the Togruta. The two Masters chatted while Issa took in her surroundings with unreserved awe. The shipyard was an explosion of noise; there was always something being hammered or drilled. Amongst the racket, the smell of oil and fuel hung thick in the air, making her smile. The scent reminded her of fond times with her Master in the Temple’s shuttle bay as he taught her the ins and outs of spacecraft maintenance on his ship ‘The Blade of Dorin’. The name always did make her chuckle.

Her warm thoughts were interrupted when Master Ti asked her a question, shocking her back to the present. “Issa, how are you keeping? Are you looking forward to your new assignment?”

“I’m well Master, thank you. As for the war, I’m… ” Issa pondered what phrase would effectively communicate her current emotions, “athirst… for what may come. Wars like what we are gearing up for are things I've only read about in legend. But I am content in our decision to protect and fight for the Republic.” 

“I understand your apprehension. The weight of war is a heavy one.” Issa nodded at the wise woman’s words and the trio fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. That was until Issa felt the mood shift around them in the Force, a wave of mischief passing over her from the Togruta to her left. “To prepare you for what’s to come, if you would ever like to hear a first person account from the wars of the Old Republic, I'm sure your Master would be happy to oblige.” Issa couldn’t stop herself before a bark of laughter escaped her at Shaak Ti’s deadpan jab at her Master’s age, the woman’s face remained serious until her eyes met Plo’s mask and a small smirk graced her lips.

“I see your sense of humour is as sharp as ever, Master Ti.” Plo replied with a chuckle, before grumbling under his breath. “You’ve been spending far too much time with Kit.” As their humour subsided, the Togruta continued to lead them to their meeting point.

—----------

A small transport ship lowered to reach the three of them, a gust of wind from the descent making their Jedi robes dance behind them. The bland shuttle landed with a muted clang before the doors whooshed open to reveal a Kaminoan and clone trooper.

The Kaminoan moved in almost slow motion, a strange sort of grace in the way her long limbs glided, carrying her off the transport with the clone in tow. “Welcome Jedi Master Plo Koon and Padawan Issa Straun. I am Taun We, aide to our prime minister Lama Su, and overseer of the Jedi’s cloning contract. We will be leaving the 104th battalion in your capable hands.” Taun We then moved to guide the clone forward to greet the Jedi personally. “This is CC-3636. As a Clone Commander, along with having some enhanced features in his DNA, he has undertaken extra training beyond a standard Clone Trooper, including our specialist ARC programme. His record is exemplary, and he will be a fine asset in leading your battalion.” 

The soldier who stood before them wasn’t in the standard white plastoid Issa had witnessed on Geonosis. Instead he had maroon paint adorning his armour and the pattern of a wolf covered the sharp edges of his helmet. Someone's an animal fan. The patterns and colour continued down the rest of his armour, and it was all finished off with a black kama, the edges piped in a matching red-brown shade. 

The commander removed his helmet before speaking, allowing the Jedi the chance to see him for the first time. Issa took the opportunity to study the man before her. Visually, he seemed to look like almost all the clone troopers she’d come across before, with his identical features and what seemed to be a regulation haircut. His presence however held something unique. His face was very no nonsense. Despite barely being a decade old, it seemed he’d furrowed his brows to the point where even if he relaxed them, two lines would forever be present between his eyes. The man’s frame was also slightly broader than the average clone, making his military stance all the more imposing. 

“General Plo, Commander Straun.” The clone nodded at them each in turn as a greeting. Issa was impressed by his greeting. He’d noted how Kel Dors were to be addressed by their first name. He brushed up on his homework. 

It would seem given his rank, Issa and the clone commander would be working quite closely together. The thought made Issa’s stomach do another nervous flip. CC-3636 radiated this serious and gruff attitude which contradicted everything about Issa’s own positive and excitable nature; she prayed to the Maker that they didn’t clash too badly. 

“General Ti, it’s good to see you again,” the clone offered politely, pulling Issa out of her thoughts.

“Likewise Commander. I like the new look. I take it the ARC’s rubbed off on you and your brothers after all.” The Togruta smiled warmly at him, and CC-3636 changed slightly before Issa’s eyes. The coarseness surrounding him softened ever so slightly at his familiarity with Shaak Ti. With a tiny smirk of knowing, he nodded an affirmative at the woman before she continued. “I was just filling Master Plo and Issa in on how fortunate they are in being assigned your battalion.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir.”

The pleasantries were interrupted by Taun We. “Master Ti, as much as I regret bringing this introduction to an end, we must continue on if we are to introduce the next battalion to the arriving Jedi.” She announced before turning to stride back towards the transport she’d only just exited from.

“Yes of course.” The Togruta turned to face the remaining people on the platform to bid them a farewell. “Master Plo, Issa, Commander, I wish you all the best. May the Force be with you.” 

—

The Venator Class Star Destroyers were incredible, their size dwarfed the countless gunships housed in it’s bays, as well as casting a large portion of the humongous landing deck they were on into shadow. 

The group strode up the large ramp, the commander in front as he led them onto their vessel. The sight which awaited them was something Issa probably couldn’t have prepared for. A sea of white armour which seemed to go on for miles stretched out before them as they approached. The troopers’ shiny plastoid was a stark contrast to the metallic walls that surrounded them. 

The commander moved from their side and towards the ocean of soldiers. “ATTENTION!” At his order, every single one of the troopers stomped their feet together and raised a hand to their helmet in salute. The noise was thunderous, practically shaking the durasteel they stood on. CC-3636 turned back to face them, his chest puffed out with pride. “General, Commander, the 104th welcomes you to the Triumphant.” Issa tried to keep her cool, but she couldn’t help it as she gawked at the sheer number of soldiers before her. There were easily hundreds of them, all neatly stood in rows upon rows, making perfect rectangles. These were the men that would blindly follow her into battle, who would follow her orders and trust her without question. She couldn’t help it as a shiver ran up her spine at the thought of such responsibility. 

With a raised hand, Master Plo stepped forward to address their men. “At ease.” His baritone resonated across the platform, the acoustics of the space replacing the need for a microphone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am General Plo Koon and this is my Padawan and Commander, Issa Straun.” He paused for a moment, allowing Issa to provide a small nod in way of greeting to the troops. In unison, the clones shouted a chorus of “SIRS!” and moved their hands back to their sides.

And so the fun begins, Issa thought.

—

With all the soldiers and gear loaded, Issa and Plo were led on a tour of the ship by CC-3636. He walked with perfect posture in front of them both, pointing out key areas of their new home as they passed them. 

The trio finally reached the bridge. As soon as they set foot into the room, all the personnel milling about immediately shot out of their seats and into salute. “General and commanders on deck!”

“At ease,” the Clone Commander announced. Around them, the clones quietly continued on with their previous tasks as if nothing happened. This is going to take some getting used to. 

One of the men on deck walked up to the trio, clad in his grey Republic naval uniform. “General Plo, Commander Straun,” the new clone greeted them politely, a slight starstruck look in his eyes. He spent a second too long looking at the two Jedi before CC-3636 cleared his throat with an unimpressed look, shocking the poor trooper back into a military stance. “Uh, sorry Commander Wolffe, I’m just here to report that all the cargo has been loaded and stored as requested.” At the mention of his apparent name, the commander’s eyes widened a tiny bit. Issa dared say he looked uncomfortable, which caused her brow to furrow. Why wouldn’t he want us to hear his name?

“Very good, trooper. Report back to your station.”

After the shiny clone disappeared, Master Plo spoke up, a slight tint of concern around his eyes at what was a clear oversight on both the Jedi’s parts. “Our sincerest apologies Commander, we weren’t aware some of you had chosen names for yourselves. How would you prefer that we address you? We’d be happy to use names over your designations should you request so.” Plo offered with a kind look.

CC-36- no Wolffe, on the other hand, looked unsure as his gaze flitted between the two Jedi. “Ah, that’s really up to you, General.” 

Issa stepped forward and smiled at the gruff soldier. “Well Commander, we’d like to know what you’d prefer, honestly.” 

The man studied the two for a moment longer before sighing. “My name would be good, sir. It’s more efficient to use in battle than our designations I suppose.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Plo declared with a slight clap of his hands. “If possible, could you please find someone to gather a list of each clone’s name and designation so that we are better able to address the men?”

Wolffe looked slightly taken aback at his request. He quickly tried to school his features back into neutrality but Issa noticed the tiny upturn on one side of his mouth. “Of course, sir.” The clone turned on his heel to pass on the request to the relevant person, leaving the Kel Dor and Pantoran standing at the heart of their new bridge. Master Plo gave her a proud look and she smiled back at him, chuffed that they’d started off on the right foot with their commander.

----

It had been a rather long and surreal morning getting settled on the Triumphant. After Wolffe concluded the tour of the ship, the three of them had begun on their more senior responsibilities, which involved being holed up in a meeting room with Plo and Wolffe for hours on end, and while she loved her Master, this entire military thing had gone from zero to a hundred very quickly, and the young Jedi could really do with catching her breath for a few moments. Thankfully, her stomach rumbled at an opportune time, causing Plo to dismiss them both to get themselves fed before they continued their planning session.

Wolffe offered to show her to the mess hall but she politely excused herself so that she could pass by the refresher first, needing a moment to herself. 

Once the durasteel door hissed shut behind her, she leaned over the sink and met her own gaze in the mirror. Issa’s navy and burgundy robes were askew on her shoulders, making her frown. The traditional clothing for Jedi had its place for many reasons, but oh how she missed her own clothes. The robes were heavy and loose, sitting draped over her thin frame, nearly drowning her figure. Guess we’re not known for being style icons, but still. She always felt like a youngling in her robes, almost as if she’d never grow into them despite being fully grown for a Pantoran, and above average height at that. Her delicate hands pulled at the neckline and readjusted her belt until she was happy that everything was back in place where it should be. The long, double-ended hilt of her lightsaber caught the light as she fidgeted, making her pause. She smoothed a hand over the engraved metal, attempting to draw some emotional strength from her weapon as the kyber crystal buzzed slightly beneath her fingertips.

Now somewhat pleased with her outfit, Issa began to give the rest of herself a quick once over. Her silver hair was scruffy from where she’d been running her hand through it. That, on top of the baggy robes, was not quite the look of professional Commander she was going for. Sighing, she lifted her goggles off her head and placed them on the side so that she could undo the bun atop her head. A groan of relief escaped her as the icy strands fell from their tight style. After messing about with it, she threw half her hair back up and left half down, her Padawan braid extending beyond her shoulder length cut. Finally content with her hair, she moved to rub at the indigo indents around her eyes. Despite not being able to see her own reflection without her eyewear, she knew from years of wearing goggles that the marks were present. As she relaxed her face, her mind began to wander back to the new weight that sat on her shoulders. Commander of a battalion. Issa was curious to know if she’d ever get used to the thought of such responsibility. 

Before she could get herself worked up again, she turned on the tap and splashed some cold water on her face, jarring her back into the present moment. She dried her features and pulled her goggles back on, feeling like her whole self once again as the world around her came back into focus. Issa met her own gaze in the mirror once more. “Stop stressing, Straun. You’ve got this,” she instructed her reflection with a new determination. She could do this. She just needed to go out there and be the Commander that she wanted to be. The rest would fall into place she was sure. With a quick nod to herself, Issa mustered up all the confidence she could and exited the refresher, ready to continue on her personal mission. 

——

Loud chatter bounced back and forth within the mess hall walls, all the identical voices combining into an almost white noise as Issa selected her lunch from the datapad in front of her. 

The Jedi grabbed her tray and studied the room around her. She was greeted with a sea of white armour and grey naval uniforms. Her heart rate picked up as nerves began to roll through her mind. She was very much the odd one out here. 

Closing her dark eyes, she took a deep and steadying breath. I came in here to get to know the battalion better, so that’s exactly what I’ll do. Issa rolled her shoulders back and began to hunt for a free seat with determination. 

After a bit of wandering and feeling a few stares on her back, she finally clocked an empty space. 

She plonked herself down with a shy smile and a hello to the troopers around her. All the men at the table had stopped eating and instead taken to staring at her like she’d grown two heads. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Despite her confidence in herself as a Jedi, Issa couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward under the gaze of all these soldiers. She went to push her goggles up the bridge of her nose before scratching the back of her neck. “Sorry, I can go,” she muttered as she went to grab her tray and stand up again, embarrassment tinting her cheeks a pale lilac. 

A quick chorus of “no no no,” rang out, and she paused half raised off her seat. A trooper with silver hair cleared his throat. “Sorry, Commander. Please sit down.” He looked at his brothers who’d taken to playing with the food on their trays. “We just weren’t expecting you to sit with us is all. But we definitely don’t mind.” His tone was sincere and he flashed a toothy smile which eased Issa’s worries. As her embarrassment faded, she sat herself back down next to the men. “So what brings you to the mess hall, sir? Other than the obvious.”

“I wanted to meet the people I’d be fighting alongside,” she said simply, tucking into her serving of pale soup. The steam from her meal caught on her goggles and fogged them up ever so slightly.

One of the others spoke up, a trooper that looked the most unique out of them all. His hair was shaved except for two stripes which ran down the centre of his head. The left side of his face from his jaw upwards was decorated in silvery scar lines, creating a delicate and intricate pattern across his skin. “But you’re a Jedi, sir. You know you don’t have to sit with a bunch of clones right?” 

“Does Commander Wolffe sit with you?” At her question, the men turned to look at the clone sat at the end who she now recognised. “Ah, sorry Wolffe. Didn’t see you there.” He waved her off as he continued shovelling food into his mouth and reading his datapad. “Anyway, my point is while we may look different, we’re one battalion. I’m nothing special. I eat, sleep and breathe the same as you. I thought this might be as good a place as any to get started in getting to know one another.”

“That’s uh, nice of you sir,” the silver haired clone replied.

“You can all call me Issa while we’re having downtime if you like. I'm not quite used to the formalities just yet.” They all turned again to look at Wolffe, almost asking his permission. He shrugged as if to say they can do what they want and a few troopers at the table smiled. “Well since we’ll be using names, would you gentlemen mind telling me yours?” Issa asked.

“I’m Sinker,” the man with the silver hair stated. “That one with the dodgy hair is Boost, self proclaimed comedic genius and all round di’kut.”

“You love me really,” Boost tutted back. 

“Huh, maybe you are funny actually.” Boost pouted at Sinker’s sarcasm, making Issa chuckle. Sinker next pointed to the clone whose head was buried in a datapad. The distracted man seemed to be of a slighter frame compared to the men around him. He also sported copper hair shaved short on the sides, the curls from his fringe falling into his eyes as he looked up at her. “The nerd there is Book. Kid is obsessed with learning new stuff, but he’s killer at strategising.” 

The next clone had longer and messier hair which fell into soft waves framing his face and he gave her a friendly smile as Sinker continued. “This is Cloud. Not got much awareness of what’s going on around him most of the time, but he’s one of the best snipers and slicers in the GAR.” Finally he turned his gaze towards the last clone at the table. His hair was shaved off and an intricate tattoo of a Vexis sat atop his head, giving the clone a rather imposing aura. “Oh and the short one down the end opposite Wolffe is Two-Pint. In love with heavy class weapons and despite the name, can drink the entire battalion under the table.” 

“It’s nice to meet you all. You clones really do have some wonderfully unique names,” Issa acknowledged.

Boost piped up with a smirk. “Well when you’ve got a million other people to compete with, you end up scrambling for options.” They continued to tuck into their food as they chatted, any awkward tension that remained from when Issa first sat down quickly dispersing, which warmed her insides far more than the soup ever could. 

“Sir- I mean Issa-” Book paused, and the Jedi nodded approvingly, urging him to continue. “You’re Pantoran, correct?”

“I am.”

“I understand that Pantorans tattoo their faces with gold markings to communicate things such as family relations, wealth, social status etcetera. Might I ask what yours mean?”

“Isn’t that a little personal to ask someone, Book?” Two-Pint scolded around a mouthful of bread, sendings small crumbs flying towards Wolffe who somehow managed to frown harder at the heavy gunner.

“No it’s fine, I can understand his curiosity.” Issa smiled at the excitable clone who beamed back at her. “You’re right, Pantorans do mark their faces for those reasons, but given that I don’t really know my biological family and I don’t have many personal belongings, my markings are ones which show me being part of the Jedi Order. I’m not the first Pantoran, so my predecessors came up with a variety of meanings and designs for Pantoran Jedi to choose from. We go through a few milestones in our lives as Pantorans which grant us the honour of getting markings. Culturally, Pantoran Jedi are supposed to undertake their trials before the age of 25, within the next two years I should have most of my markings. As for the ones I have now,” she traced the two straight golden lines running vertically from her hairline to the start of her silver eyebrows, “these two represent life and the Force.” Her fingers then moved to the single line running from her bottom lip straight down her chin. “And this one symbolises the two coming together. For even in death, there is always the Force.”

Book looked enthralled as he typed away at his datapad, abandoning his lunch in favour of documenting Issa’s every word. “That’s fascinating, thank you.” 

“No problem.” Issa nodded at him and a warmth spread through her chest as she watched Book’s fingers fly across his device. She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected when going to meet the clones, but something about Book’s excitement for life and information surprised her. “While we’re on the topic of physical features, can I ask you a question, Boost?” Issa looked over at the man, who nodded as he shovelled more food into his mouth. “Your hair is pretty different compared to everyone else’s. I was wondering if there was a particular reason behind it.” She saw his cheeky demeanour immediately change at her question, shifting to one of longing and remembrance.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat and Issa cursed herself for asking him to relive a clearly painful memory. “The style’s called ‘the double stripe’. It’s to honour my batchmates, the squad I went through cadet training with. They all died on Geonosis.” His face was sombre as he remembered each of his closest brothers. Beside him, Sinker placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, which the other man leaned into gratefully.

“I’m so sorry, Boost.”

“Ah, don’t be. They went out like heroes, which is all any of us can really ask.” He gave her a sad smile before clapping his hands together and rebuilding his mischievous persona. “Anyways, enough doom and gloom. Let’s find out more about you, Commander. What’s with the goggles?” 

Issa chuckled as Boost formed two circles with his fingers and put them around his eyes to mimic her eyewear. “Nothing fancy, I just can’t see very well.” She shrugged and the men all looked at each other. 

“So you’re telling us that the almighty powerful Jedi we’ve been hearing about for ten years, can have crap eyesight?”

“I’m only Pantoran, I’m not a god.” 

“You’re really ruining this for us sir. I hope you know that,” Sinker explained with a sigh. 

“Well I can still fight blind don’t worry. Though  if Master Plo loses that mask, he can’t breathe. I’ve always carried a spare around with me just in case.” Issa rolled her eyes with fondness, while the clones just stared blankly at her as she joked.

Wolffe looked dumbfounded as he spoke up for the first time. “So between the two of you, we haven’t got one fully functioning Jedi?” Issa quickly felt the weight of the table’s gaze which made her squirm with awkwardness. Just had to stick my foot in it, didn’t I?

“I suppose not. But I’ve never seen Plo lose his mask, and I always carry spare goggles on missions, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“No offence, sir, but that doesn’t fill me with much confidence.” Without another word, Commander Wolffe grabbed his tray with an unimpressed look and left the group, his sass having cut Issa, leaving her mouth hanging slightly agape as he exited the mess.

———

Wolffe entered his new quarters as the day drew to a close. His boots clanged against the durasteel flooring as he dropped down onto his firm bunk. His room was small, more akin to a closet, but it was neat and it was private, and privacy was something he never expected to have in his life. It was a blessing and a curse to have some space to himself. On the one hand he much preferred his own time and quiet, never one for much socialising, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t miss the small sounds of his brothers just living around him: the snores, the laughter and the chatter. It was all he’d known for his entire life. It’ll take some getting used to. 

The soldier took a moment to reflect on what would be the first day of the rest of his life. He’d finally been assigned his Jedi, and should he do his job right, they’d be the people he’d spend the war fighting alongside. General Plo Koon was one of the few Jedi he remembered from Geonosis, he didn’t fight alongside him directly, but a six foot Kel Dor on a battlefield stood out amongst the more common species within the Jedi Order. The general was mostly what he expected of a Jedi; reserved, wise and welcoming. He couldn’t put his finger on it but there was just something about the Kel Dor that put him at ease, as if a sense of knowing told him that his general would be someone he’d proudly fight alongside. Then there was the padawan, Straun. He found it interesting that while the young woman had been under the mentorship of the general for what must be years now, they were remarkably different people. She was clearly inexperienced, and cared far too much about what the men thought of her as a leader. She was quick to talk, which was a trait he didn’t favour in others usually, but she seemed to be trying at least. Wolffe supposed that her efforts were better than a removed leader who didn’t value the lives of his brothers. As commanders though, the two of them were very different, and it unnerved him that he wouldn’t really know her abilities as a leader until they were thrown into battle.

As he let out a long exhale, Wolffe’s gloved fingers unclipped his helmet from his belt and held it in his lap, the black visor staring back at him as he took in every sharp edge and line of paint across his bucket. The commander took a moment to think back on the battle of Geonosis. Those few months ago, he’d worn white plastoid armour, with only pips and yellow paint to signify his rank. Following the start of the war, the Alphas back on Kamino had taken Wolffe’s batch in and commended them on their efforts on the desert planet, for leading their brothers to their purpose to fight alongside the Jedi and defending the Republic. They’d taken them on for the new ARC training programme as an experiment and pushed them to their limits with a gruelling training regiment. There were points where Wolffe wondered if they’d make it, but in the end, all five of them survived and became the first ARC Commanders. A small smile made its way onto Wolffe’s face at the memory.

The five commanders stood in parade rest, Alpha-17 strolling in front of them, appraising his graduating students. Wolffe supposed they did look different from where they started. While the new training routine had brought out different strengths in all of them, they’d all gained more muscle mass and no longer looked as lean as the standard troopers. 

“I’m pleased to announce you’ve all passed ARC training. You five are our first of many ARC Commanders. Congratulations.” 17’s face remained neutral, but underneath all the bravado, they all noticed the pride, burning like a roaring flame within him. 

Wolffe held his own passive military expression, but chanced a glance at Fox next to him just as his ori’vod did the same to him. Their eyes met and the corners of their lips twitched ever so slightly. “We’ve actually done it.” the words were barely above a whisper as they fell from his lips.

The commander was brought out of his memories when his datapad began chiming next to him, the screen lighting up and pulling his attention to it.

-Command Chat Active-

Cody: so… everyone met their Jedi then?

Bly: yep

Wolffe: mhmm

Ponds: yeah!

Fox: funnily enough no I haven’t. 

Cody: sarcasm just because you’re jealous Fox? It’s not a good look on you

Fox: mir’sheb

Cody: Love you too, foxy. Anyway, thoughts?

Ponds: Master Windu is awesome.

Cody: Bly, Wolffe?

Bly: … The General seems nice enough

Fox: But?

Bly: But what?

Ponds: you’re being suspenseful again Bly, just spit it out vod 

Bly: Okay. But this goes nowhere as I’m trying to be a good Commander and all

Bly: but… WHY DOES MY GENERAL REFUSE TO WEAR ARMOUR. I’M GONNA GET RECONDITIONED WHEN SHE INEVITABLY GETS SHOT :’(

Fox: Well, seems this Jedi business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be

Wolffe: You want to talk about armour?! How about both my Jedi having major physical impairments?! One can’t breathe in most atmospheres and the other can’t kriffing see! They’re walking target practice for the clankers.

Cody: at least you haven’t got to deal with the Padawan from hell

Bly: don’t act like you’ll actually deal with him. We all know you’re gonna put that on Rex. 

Cody: it’s called delegating, it’s what good commanders do ori’vod

Cody: at least General Kenobi seems sane enough. 

Wolffe: I dunno, didn’t he teach the special one? His recklessness has to stem from someone

Ponds: *the chosen one 

Wolffe: dork 

Cody: … you make an excellent point

Fox: about the general or Ponds? 

Cody: both

Ponds: :(

Cody: General Kenobi is going to turn out crazy isn’t he?

Ponds: they’re not called the disaster lineage for nothing

Cody: THEY’RE CALLED THE WHAT?!

Ponds: hmm maybe I shouldn’t have shared that

Bly: *gasp* Is General Windu a gossip?!

Ponds: I can neither confirm nor deny

Fox: Ponds got the best General. The rest of you are probably going to die. It was nice knowing you. 

Cody: I’d tell him to Kriff off but he’s probably right

Wolffe: eh I’ll do it anyway. Kriff off shabuir

Fox: bite me ad’ika <3

—-Fox renamed the chat to CC’s Anonymous—-

Ponds: Seems appropriate

Back to TJ's Masterlist

[erimeows]

NSFW headcanons for Optimus/Bumblebee? 👀👀👀

Oh, man, you got me in the weak spot. I really love BumbleOp because it's the first ship I ever read a fic for in this fandom; it was 40+ chapters and very soft, I consumed it all in four or five hours. Anywho, NSFW below the cut. Enjoy!

I explored this in my oneshot Telling, but Optimus Prime has a HUGE praise kink. Always wants to be told how pretty/handsome he is, how good he’s doing, what he’s doing that’s nice, how good he feels, etc. It’s not only very validating, but it’s nice to know that he can make his lover so desperate that he just loses his pride and says all of those things; the sweet, the filthy, and the tender.

Bumblebee feeds into it. He’ll tell Optimus whatever he wants to hear if it means Optimus feels good, which means Optimus will make him feel good in return. Just like Optimus, he likes hearing the praise in return.

Bumblebee’s favorite parts of Optimus are his audials, shoulders, and thighs.

Optimus’s favorite parts of Bumblebee are his servos, chest, and optics. 

Despite being mostly vanilla, they also have a slight brat/tamer dynamic going on. Bumblebee likes to act up, tease, and talk big game to Optimus because he knows it’ll get him ‘punished’ (AKA serviced really good) and roughed up since Optimus won’t be rough with him unless he really does something to push his buttons. 

Optimus likes it too, though, because he enjoys the control and the submission he gets from it, the power that comes with being to hold Bumblebee down and punish him for being a tease, whether that be touching him under the table at a public function or running a servo over his aft while walking past him in the hallway.

Their relationship is secret mostly, at least for a while. Not a FWB thing by any stretch since they’re both very in love with each other and want to have a committed relationship before interfacing, but it’s just easier to keep things a secret from their team to avoid making it complicated. The secrecy adds onto the thrill; sneaking into each other’s rooms, trying to keep the moans down, putting a pillow between the back of the berth and the wall to avoid the headboard slamming into it from the force of Optimus’s thrusts, stealing kisses in hallways and hoping that no one else is around.

There’s a surprising amount of dirty talk that’s like “What if someone walked in right now? You’d like that, though, wouldn’t you? You’re filthy, sweetspark,” and “Be careful; I don’t mind you getting loud, but as much as I love the noise, I don’t think you want everyone on base to know how good I’m fragging you,”.

Usually, Optimus prefers to be on top so he can control the entire situation, but sometimes, he’ll let Bumblebee ride. It’s nice to just be able to sit there and be pleasured, watch Bumblebee’s face twist with pleasure as he rides his spike and grips onto his shoulders for dear life.

They’re both incredibly tender, gentle lovers at heart, so they always worry about hurting or bothering the other and are usually pretty careful, even when they do get rough sometimes. 

Bumblebee loves sucking Optimus’s spike, and Optimus loves eating Bumblebee out. They’re both super into giving and receiving oral.

Body worship all the way for both of these bots, too.

Bumblebee really enjoys being manhandled and thrown around, picked up and maneuvered by Optimus in the bedroom. It makes him feel smaller, weaker, like he’s there to be controlled and used, something he’s into.

Neither of them call it by name directly, but they both totally have a breeding kink... Especially Optimus. He usually doesn’t do it out of courtesy, but his favorite sessions of interfacing are when Bumblebee will lock his legs around his waist and trap him there, begging for him to overload inside and fill him with his transfluid. Optimus falls into it without any thought and will immediately start fucking Bumblebee so hard that the berth has probably broken at one point, making him overload a couple of more times before stuffing him full with his seed.

Anywho, yeah... There’s those! I’m going to go drink some holy water. Peace out, y’all.