#should he still speak about it? of course

[peachesofteal]

Tip of my Tongue - Azriel/single mom reader

He puts you out of his mind. 

Or tries to, at least. His thoughts stray, at night, in quiet moments, and he catches himself thinking about you, wondering if he should have done more, pushed harder, tried to get you to talk to him even though he understands your reluctance. It didn’t surprise him how you avoided his eyes, turned away. 

Illyrians both hate and fear him, and Azriel despises them in return.

Cauldron only knows how you may have suffered in their hands. 

It’s not his business. 

Illyrians are not unwelcome in Velaris, it is your right to live in the city if you so choose. 

Let it go.  

His effort is in vain, crumbling only two days later when he comes across you on the street, half open bag spilled out across the sidewalk. 

Leave her be, it’s not your business, not your-

You’re crouched, baby in one arm while trying to gather up your things with another, and without thinking, he swoops down at your side, picking them up quicker than you can protest. “Are you alright?” 

This time, there’s no opportunity for you to cut him off, or run. He’s holding a stuffed rabbit in his hand. 

“Yes, I’m…” you reach for the toy, rising to stand at the same time, and blood rushes in his ears. “We’re okay, thank you.” You watch him carefully, but for some reason, less guarded than that day in the market, a little more brave, open. 

“I’m Azriel.” You probably already know that, he’s sure. 

You bite your bottom lip and practically whisper your own in return before bouncing the baby on your hip. “This is Luna. Or Lulu.” You cup her cheek, and her head tips back, wonder in her eyes as she stares at you. 

It does something to him, breaks a dam of emotion inside his heart, warmth flooding through his body from fingers to toes, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, she’s a handful.” You hoist her higher, wincing. “And heavy. Aren’t you, Lu?” You smile, but it barely touches your eyes, their corners tight with stress. 

He wants to know why, wants to know you- 

wants to fix it. 

“Thanks for,” you gesture to the bag with your free hand, “helping. And for yesterday, too. You didn’t have to.”

“He was ripping you off.” He’s stern, almost reproachful, and you avert your eyes, guilt pinging through his bones as a result. He shouldn’t expect you to be able to hold your own in a city who undoubtedly turns their nose up at you. You’re vulnerable here, to no fault of your own. He shouldn’t chastise you for it, so he switches tactics. “Do you live in the city?” You nod. 

“We’ve been here for a few weeks.” You shift uneasily. There’s so much left unsaid, and he wants to peel away the layers hiding it all, dig to the bottom and learn every bit of it. 

Of you. 

“Which village?” Your gaze turns bleak and then clears, clouds revealing the sun. 

“Stoneguard.” His control is the only thing that smothers his surprise. Stoneguard. 

No wonder you were so tense in the Palace. No wonder you practically ran away. 

It’s an insular northern village with its own camp, positioned deep in the mountains, sheltered by rock and forest. One of the most brutal, and backwards, one of few still left unchanged. The miniscule progress happening in Windhaven and Ironcrest is still progress, but it doesn’t reach the more isolated villages or their camps. Rhys’ and their efforts to corral them, change them, have been in vain for centuries. They subscribe to the traditional practices, brutality and clipping, abuse running rampant without care. 

You grimace, like you can read his mind, and another thought occurs, striking his soul with dread. 

How did you get here? You have no wings. Did you walk, all this way, with Luna? Alone? 

“I have to get going,” you break through his spiral with an apologetic glance, “she’ll need to go down for a nap here soon.” As if she insists on making your point, Luna’s lashes flutter, eyes struggling to stay open. 

“Right, of course.” He should let you go, should be satisfied by your answers, but the brief interaction only leaves him wanting more. Leave her be, leave her be, leave her- “Have you seen much of Velaris?” You blink, and shake your head. “I could… show you around, if you’d like.” Luna hiccups, a high pitch frequency akin to a squeak, and a smile tugs at his mouth, trying to pull it upward into something genuine. It’s a hard fought battle for a male who rarely does such a thing. You stare at him, considering, examining, like you’re trying to peer inside his soul and determine if he’s to be trusted, and then you sigh. 

“Okay.”

[sunrisecaminus]

Soundwave x Reader SFW/NSFW Headcanons

Summary - Soundwave and human conjunx Headcanons. NSFW under the "Keep Reading".

Warnings - Valveplug, Exhibitionism

SFW

~ When you were taken from the ship, Soundwave grew attached immediately from how you treated Lazerbeak.

~ Soundwave is a very loving conjunx, even if he doesn't show it to anybody on the ship. It makes people think you are neglected all the time, but what they don't know is that it is the exact opposite.

~ Leaving to go to work? Do not worry, Soundwave would ground bridge you there. Needing more groceries? Dude, he could just order online for you for free.

~ Anytime you kiss him on the hand or face, holy crap that man will be thinking about it for the rest of his day. He has secretly took pictures and videos of your sweetest moments with him, so anytime he is stressed or down, he watches his recordings to give him more motivation.

~ Since he watched the security camera's 24/7, he will know when someone is being mean to you. The 3rd in command would deal with it himself the next day and you will never see that horrible mech ever again.

~ Researched everything about human culture to make sure anything you said wasn't confusing to him. Yes, he knows slang. No, he will not use it…that is embarrassing.

~ Megatron does not understand the human pet Soundwave acquired but Soundwave planned for this and has made literal PowerPoints for his leader on why you are useful to him.

~ Soundwave has never really cuddled before, so when you hugged him while he worked and nuzzled on his cheek…he is now craving your touch every second you are gone. He will give you every sad face he can send to you until you hug/kiss him again.

~ His tendrils would be so fun. You would play with them all the time and try to catch them when you thought he was distracted by his computer. Why did you always fall for him pretending to work? You are the reason why the Decepticons have late paperwork and reports from 2 weeks ago.

~ Would shut down a bank to give you everything you desire. He would never judge you for what you want.

NSWF

~ Speaking of what you want. If you are a crazy sex freak, he would give you that. If you are more casual and not care about sex as much, Soundwave would still love and care for all your other needs.

~ Soundwave of course would use his tendrils to please you. I think we all know those things are his best quality.

~ Public Sex? Soundwave would be confused at first on why you would want to do it on his desk, but after the first time he would never question you again. Hiding you from soldiers while fondling your chest with his hands should not be as fun as it is.

~ LOVES your body and caresses everywhere you want him to touch. Him feeling how soft humans are would make him question why Megatron hates organics.

~ You in cute outfits sends him over the edge. Soundwave loved the clothes that humans made and seeing you in rich, beautiful outfits makes him hungry.

~ His spike is average size but to you that is still big as hell so yes he would have to mass displace if you wanted to get real touchy with him.

~ Remember Soundwave craving your touch? Well, don't get him started on you touching his spike. 4 million years of the war made him realize how touch starved and sensitive he was. You can feel him shaking while he recorded everything you did to his shaft.

~ If you tried to be a little shit and do something he told you not to do…yeah you would not be able to get out of bed the next day. Look he will always be nice and gentle with you, but the moment you get naughty on purpose is when you became the bottom in the relationship.

~ He would use his tendrils, tie you up, and abuse your lower half for HOURS!

~ Soundwave is use to not sleeping for 24 hours, so you better have had a goodnight sleep last night, because this will not end until you can't even make noises anymore.

~ He is a master of Aftercare and would bathe you, wrap you up in the softest blankets, and let you sleep soundly. The only thing you would hear before dozing off is the clicking of the computer he was using to finish his work.

[sillygoofyqueer]

So, originally Crowyuan occured when Bingge was already Demon Emperor, then came the idea of him becoming known as the Corvid King while Binghe was still a little disciple. What if he transmigrates and becomes known as the Corvid King before Binghe is even born? What if he finds this poor abused slave boy and decides This Is Mine Now before realising Oops! He's taken the scum villain under his wing, metaphorically and possibly physically too. Too bad, that's his son/little brother now. Oh but what if he transmigrates a little earlier and it goes the same except it's with both Shen Jiu AND Yue Qi? Or with all the other slave children too because he feels bad just saving two, even if those two are the only ones relevant to the original plot?

Wow....the Original™ Crowyuan timeline........back in the good old days where I didn't have so many different AUs to think about.....(/silly I love them all) ANYWAY. Corvid King crowyuan would definitely stumble across the street kids - he gains B-points n shit through answering prayers and gaining followers, so of course he's going to listen to the prayers of some poor little street children with nowhere else to go. It's not like he doesn't have the means to look after them, whether that be giving them to couples who badly want a child but can't have one for whatever reason, or placing them into orphanages that he funds himself (note: they don't know that he's funding it, they just believe there's a generous rich person donating whenever they need the money). However, when he's dealing with this new band of street kids, there is one child who just....does not want to let go of him. He scorns Crowyuan's existence when the deity first finds them in the alleys, offering gentle words of reassurance despite the late hour and leading the children along (yes, "Come Little Children" style, what kind of animal do you take me for?). Unlike the other naïve idiots, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have seen this played out before. A stranger comes in the night, promising food and a home and love, and those who follow are found not long after. Dead. Crowyuan watches on in...a mixture of respect and worry as one of the children tries to explain the danger of following strangers in the night to the others, and another stands back and watches it happen, scorn clear upon his face. These children should not know the harsh dangers of life, not so young, but it is good that at least two of them are smart enough to not trust strangers, even if that isn't necessary in this instance. So, he offers proof of who he is. He sits down and tells them who he is, and he makes them pray, so he can listen to what they want. The snappy, unimpressed child doesn't, he just glares and scoffs when his friend drops his head down, but then shifts as if to protect him if necessary. When he respond's to this friend's prayer aloud - "Xiao-Jiu would be happy and safe in a bed, I think" - everyone seems to startle. (Of course, he has to repeat this exercise many times until this snappish child, this 'Xiao-Jiu', finally relents). He finally is able to lead these children to a nearby orphanage, ran by people who could do so much good with just the right amount of gold, and he drops them off there along with a pouch filled with gold. However, when he turns to leave, Xiao-Jiu clings to him. He stares up at him with a sort of fury in his eyes, demanding to know who he thinks he is, ditching them after dumping them off with these random people. A street child who speaks to a god, whose fear of being left by his saviour outweighs his fear of the power this creature wields, and does not hesitate to cling to this deity's robes with his dirty hands.

[doodlenoodleboi]

Senku l. (before & after the stone)

Headcanons, sfw,nsfw, suggestive…

Author’s note: Senku is a fictional character he is canonically 15-16 in the beginning of the series and 17-18 by season 3 not taking account for the manga which he is older. If in the future I make works on characters you deem unfitting for the roll of nsfw fiction or suggestive works of while aged up feel free to block me! Also a reminder that this is a fictional character, made up of lines/pixels. Do not waste your time writing petty hate comments which I will remove and are a waste of your life which you will not get back. I choose to be delusional about fictional characters for my own satisfaction, good day!

Word count: a lot

Before the stone

Sfw

Senku is a bit more less responsible before the stone as he is allowed to act like a kid. He often spends his time in the school lab or at home and can be seen with is small group of friends. (Taiju Oki and Yuzuriha Ogawa.)

Love and romantic relationships are something Senku has found himself uninterested in his teenage years. Dedicating himself to his craft and love for science.

You can take science away from the man but not the science from the man. (You really can’t do either)

Senku has found people conventionally attractive to a specific statistical standard but not to him personally and probably won’t ever given he doesn’t have a common attraction to physical attributes.

Though through statistics he can still find someone who he would be generally attracted to physically. Someone with glasses, makes their interests obvious ex: paint on body all the time, a lab coat or constantly wearing something of their special interest would be people he gravitates towards.

(As someone who is neurodivergent in the worst ways I think half the cast is autistic or a Shokunin if you will a person deeply dedicated to their craft.) So someone as such will attract Senku not romantically of course but they will be bound to cross paths.

There are a multitude of ways you could meet you might never meet but to keep it simple I’m going to give you a multitude of possibilities to have rot in your head.

Being apart of the school’s science club is one way always spending time with him constantly in the science room after school.

Being a dumbass needed tutoring friends with one of his friends but not with Senku directly, or competing for higher grades, a good enemies to lovers. Maybe you’re even apart of the school’s science club making you and Senku acquaintances if anything.

Senku doesn’t back down from competition when it comes to brains but quickly when it comes to fights. Being rivals to Senku is a good asset in the stone world getting you to be one of the first few people to be revived truly testing if you’re book smart (can do it in theory on paper in school) and street smart (do it for real and faster than the time given in school).

Senku was hesitant more than he ever has been getting in a relationship with you. Being shy was simply not an option for him, he thought it was a waste of time often making him coming off as stiff and blunt.

A relationship of romantic interest with Senku will never be said nor be official. He will never say he loves you or that he likes you even give he believes actions speak louder than words. If you give him time you will see through subtle ways that he is attracted to you. 

He will ask you about things that don’t matter much: like should I choose this or that color the small things…

He’ll allow you to touch his hair if your one for pda, he won’t reciprocated often at most leaning into the touch out of pure comfort. He won’t push you off understanding that this is a love language (that did take him a while to understand.)

Senku’s love language is quality time and gift giving. This is more often seen in the stone world but it expressed as well before hand even more so if you’re a science nerd along with him.

He’ll be willing to conduct experiments with you along with share materials with you which is a rare thing for him being an only child never having to share much of anything.

I believe that Senku is aroace or at the very least ace. He can still have platonic love and relationships but isn’t fond of romantic ones being in a romantic relationship from his perspective is his treating you like a best friend practically treating you like a mixture between yuzuriha and Kohaku.

Suggestive

Anything remotely romantic would have to be initiated by you and 9/10 you’re going to either get pushed off. Or he just sits there waiting for you to get over with it. Something like the (kohaku kissing Senku scene in season 3)

For your sake he has experimented once or twice before with make out sessions or kissing to get you to do something (like get you to do an experiment with him.) any kind of physical touch from him romantic wise once again if not initiated by you. 

He’s a responsible enough person to know better than to have sexual intercourse at his age nor is he interested enough to risk it not that questions about it don’t cross his mind but we’ll explore those much later down the line.

Though he’s more likely to tease you occasionally and lean his arm atop your head if you’re short. Expect this more often if you have curly hair

If you have 4c or curly hair in general he will be near you more often especially if you’re a foreigner. Have issues finding hair products for your hair type in Japan? He got you give him a couple strands of your hair next thing you know he has a whole list of products for your hair and product sample packets surrounding him.

Nsfw

Sorry there is none Senku was not interested in sexual acts before the stone nor very much after.

Though he will ask you a lot of “inappropriate questions” but i promise you he’s just genuinely curious. And he’s not trying to infer anything he promises.

After the stone

As I said Senku’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. This becomes more apparent in the stone world. If you had something you held close best believe he will try his best to make it for you. If you’re an artist he’s make brushes and paint etc…

He’s a bit kinder and softer after the stone. People he has known longer therefore care for more he unconsciously takes them on more missions with him around or in a safe space.

If he knew you before the stone you’re likely to be one of the first people out of stone. Though if not you are an important asset and he sees you for your skills and talents so be grateful for that.

If you’re a creative type expect to be paired with Yuzuriha often. A martial artist or athlete expect Kohaku and Taiju.

What Senku appreciate most is people interested in his work, he loves experimenting and explaining his process even to those a who don’t understand so please entertain him for a while if you expect at friendship let alone a romantic relationship.

People who are aroace can have relationships but they can often be on sided in the romance department. It’s not that they don’t love platonically you they just don’t know how to react to that romantically or don’t want romance.(yall can choose if Senku is aroace or not) As long as you’re ok with that your relationship with Senku will be fine. (I’ll just write him as dense to love for yall though.)

Senku if he does love you will occasionally indulge in your romantic behavior and take this a complent if it was a last resort he wouldn't be against procreating with you. (it took him a lot to admit that so you better take it.)

Romantic relationships are often seen as an inconvenience given he doesn't see the need for them and doesn't think he could would be the best fit for something like that.

He true for the most part but he is able to be in a romantic relationship. It may not be as romantic as a you like but if he has an interest in you he will unconsciously do these things. Don't expect any hand-holding and kissing though.

The only way you could get him to hold your hand is for technical reasons like you not getting lost.

Suggestive

I do agree with the fact that Senku would experiment on his significant other and I think this would be more common before the stone but in small ways.

An unexpected romantic act to see how you respond.

He will use this advantage if gen tells him you like him or something for free labor but we won’t abuse it he’s not that mean.

The only way I could see a “relationship forming” Is Senku using you for labor and “paying you” with physical touch. Kisses, hugs and stuff, he likes you platonically but as time goes on he starts experimenting with you first it’s his far will you go for each type of affection. Then it’s soon how will you react to this or that. He says it’s not you that he loves but the reaction you make like a chemical reaction in your mind. Knowing his autistic ass it might be true but the way he acts makes you unsure.

Or maybe finding a girl smarter than him would rial him up he might see you as arrival at first. You guys could be partners, he swears he doesn’t love you, but the science you create the knowledge you know, that wrinkly brain of yours.

He tends to have a love for things rather than people in a way he loves science and the things people are good at their talents but maybe not themselves, he swears but he does establish relationships with characters like Gen and Chrome as friends so I’m sure he can establish a romantic relationship if we take this route.

Then I could actually get into how Senku would “experiment” with his “friend” this would create an friends with benefits kinda situation but it’s not like Senku sees it like that he just doesn’t have time for labels and probably wouldn’t care about it. Just don’t call him pet names because he doesn’t like it. The relationship would be private so the villagers don’t make a fuss, for as far was that would last with Gen around.

NSFW - ish

Let’s talk about Senku’s experiments

Of course you consented to this but you might know what your getting into 100%

It’s basically just a very handsy check up while he asks you questions you may or may not be able to answer.

Ex: “Are your breast sensitive? There is a high concentration of nerve endings present in that area, making them one of the most sensitive parts of the body. While he’s over here playing with them in every way imaginable. He’s going to continue to do this for every inch of your body and take an analysis writing how painful each part is and or sensitive.

So I’ll let you guys imagine that

Thank you for reading!!

[earlgreylatte]

Nothing to Declare

You and Mark try not to sync up your breakdowns.

Watching Mark solemnly gaze at his phone, his call with Amber cut because of the ship’s rising altitude, you shift, fiddling with your camera’s settings.

“It’s not too late to back out,” you suggest, “I should be fine to go on my own. Honestly, this might be overkill.”

“No way,” he immediately refutes, looking back at you, “I’m not letting you go to a planet that’s who knows where by yourself. And, honestly? You should still be resting. You can only now just eat solids—“

You press a hand to your abdomen. It’s been months now since your dad impaled you with his bare hand and took off. If you weren’t you, you’d be killed instantly.

You brought back into reality when Mark places a hand on your shoulder, “I just mean…you shouldn’t be pushing yourself back into work so soon. You’ve been going at it for years now.”

You grimace at the reminder, “I could say the same to you. You don’t need to put others before yourself all the time. You’re missing your first week of lectures, for god’s sake.”

“It’s fine, William will cover for me,” he shakes his head.

“You better take him flying when you get back.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“You guess?”

You and Mark take a seat as you see stars shine outside the ship’s windows.

The Thraxan piloting the ship, speaks up, “Are you comfortable, Mark Gray—sorry, Invincible, Singularity?”

“Very plush seats,” you compliment.

“Yeah, thanks,” Mark responds, sullenly. “How long until we get to Thraxa?”

“Approximately six of your Earth days!” The alien informs.

You eye your brother as he sighs and slumps into his seat. “Space sucks…”

You don’t disagree.

Mark shakes you awake, you try to batt your hand at him, “We’re here. Finally.”

Staring out the windows, you immediately notice the violet colour of the planet and its architecture, maybe you’ll take a picture or two. When the planetary threat was extinguished, of course.

Exiting the ship, you and Mark find yourselves surrounded by Thraxans starting at you two in awe, whispers of excitement filling the air. You take a picture. You can multitask.

“Uh, hi?” Mark offered.

Your alien guide, leans in, “Don’t mind them! The monarch wants to meet you at once!”

Mark steps forward first, into the direction of the purple palace at the centre of the city, cubic and with waterfalls. You snap another photo as two children duck under Mark’s arm, laughter filling the air as they eagerly try to take the lead.

For a planet on the cusp of supposed doom, they sure are cheerful.

“It’s certainly tranquil here,” you murmur.

“Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving?” Mark questions, looking around. “What about the meteors?”

“Meteors? What meteors?”

You and Mark stop walking, and blankly stare at the Thraxan.

“The ones that are killing billions?”

“Ah, those meteors! Must be a touch of dementia, we age much quicker than you humans, you know! Don’t worry, the monarch will explain all!”

You and Mark exchange a look.

“Bro.”

Finally making your way in the Monarch’s abode, the outer-worldly architecture now filling up your camera’s gallery, you notice Mark softening at the serene aura encompassing your surroundings.

Approaching a grand and very red staircase, you observe what must be a throne like area above.

“Your Majesty,” the alien beckons making way for you, three Thraxans turning to look down at your party. “May I present Invincible and Singularity of Earth.”

You and Mark take a kneel, awkwardly lowering your heads in respect.

The Thraxans part, and your hear heavy footsteps sound against the floor. The ruler.

“Hello, kids,” A warm and agonizingly familiar voice greets.

Mark gasps and jolts up but you keep your head down for a second before slowly lifting your head up.

Your father, with his hand outstretched, smiles down at you two, “It’s been a while.”

“…Dad?”

You pull off your mask, letting it fell to the floor.

“Dad?” You call, as your brother clenches his fists next to you, breath shuttering, “Dad!”

You fly to embrace him, tears burning your eyes. He catches you, like he always does, strong arms wrapping around your form, bring a hand up to cradle your head that’s buried against his shoulder. You hear his heartbeat thump, slow and calm. You can almost pretend things are normal again.

“I…missed you two,” he admits.

Mark shouts your name, a thunder you’ve never heard in his voice before. The spectating Thraxans flinch, as Mark rips off his mask, approaching you with measured steps, grabbing you by the arm to pull you away and behind him as he stares down your father.

“This was all you? Bringing us here?” He grits out, “The Thraxans told us they needed help, but that was another one of your lies?”

“They do need your help,” your dad responds.

“Why?” He squeezes out, his grip on your arm tightening.

“It’s complicated. Come with me—“

“No, WHY did you lie to us again?” Your brother’s glare hardens, “You killed thousands of people. You nearly killed your own daughter after scaring her into silence! Who knows what else you did to her! You stuck a hand through her, like—-like she was nothing!”

You bite your lip, “Mark—“

“Why would you think we would ever want to see you again? That you would even deserve it. You called mom a pet,” his voice breaks.

“You broke her heart,” you whisper, backing away.

Your dad calls your names, “I need your help—“

Mark sighs, tired, before gesturing to the aliens standing behind your father, “And you made them lie to us?”

“Just listen—“

“I don’t need to listen to anything you say,” he retorts, turning away and pulling you with him.

“Look, I made a mistake. I thought about you two every day—“

“A mistake!?” Mark shouts, twisting around to face your father.

“Son—“

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore!”

“What do you want me to say?” Your father looks defeated.

“You could have started with ‘I’m sorry’!”

A moment of silence passes over you.

“You know what? Don’t bother, alright? It wouldn’t mean anything anyways. I hope you like it here with your new friends,” Mark asserted, “Guess they don’t know you the way we do.”

You breathe out, “We can’t go back to how things were, dad. Not after everything.”

You follow Mark as he makes to leave, the latter glancing behind him.

“Fuck you.” Were his final words before you two took off into the sky.

You hear your father follow.

“You’ll never make it back on your own. It’s millions of miles, and you don’t know the way. Navigation was neither of yours strong suit. Come back, and we’ll talk,” your father explained, “Please.”

“And what are you going to do if we don’t? Knock out all my teeth again? Strand her in another planet with you to make a point?” he asks venomously, gesturing towards you before speeding up, you and your father following.

“I’ll get you a ship home, but there’s something you need to see first.” Your father bargains.

“No,” Mark refuses.

“Nol’Zak wasn’t lying to you, his people do need your help. Let me tell you why.”

“I don’t care.”

“I know that’s not true,” your father refutes.

“Mark,” you speak up, “If we leave now, we could risk being stranded for years or even forever without a way home. Let’s just help this planet and we can go home.”

Your brother slows to a stop with you, “Five minutes. For them, not you.”

He descends back down. You and your father hover for a moment.

“Dad,” you speak up, “If you try to do anything to Mark, I won’t hesitate this time.”

“I know.”

“So, you conquered this place, instead of Earth?” Mark notes.

“I didn’t conquer this planet, the Thraxans asked me to be their emperor.” Your father rebuffs, leading you through the palace halls before stopping at a door.

“Conqueror, emperor, what’s the difference?” Your brother mumbles.

“Consent, I guess?” You answer as you three enter a pastel coloured room, a lone female Thraxan standing within.

You and Mark watch in horror as your father… tongues her. You tried to step out of the room, but your back meets the door that closed automatically, the traitor.

The Thraxan turns to warmly greet you two, your father’s arm on her waist, oblivious to the looks on your faces, “Welcome to our home, my husband’s told me so much about you two.”

“Andressa,” your father near chides.

“What the fuck is going on,” Mark whispers, a second away from bursting.

With your back still against the door, you slowly slide down until you’re sitting on your knees.

“Did I mispeak?” Your stepmother asks as your father silently gestures for her to give you some space.

“I know this comes as a surprise—“

Your brother immediately interrupts him, “No shit, we’re surprised! What about mom?”

“I can’t go back to Earth, Mark. Not ever. That life is over.”

You and Mark stare at him, hurt, before your brother scoffs, “Alright, you’re all done with Earth. Super glad you got to show us how great your life is without us!”

You rise to your feet, “She’s still mourning you, beating herself up for not seeing you for what you really are, and you just—start over?”

You shake your head before moving a hand against the door to try to open it, Mark following behind you.

“That’s not what I wanted to show you.”

You bump your head against the door. “Fucking seriously…”

Mark whips around, “What else could you possibly mean—“

Nothing could prepare you for the sight of your dad holding a purple, but very human—-no, Viltrumite looking baby, his wife proudly at his side.

“Who is that?” Mark asks, denial etched on his face as you slowly raise your camera.

“This is your little brother,” your father introduces.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Your brother explodes as your shutter goes off, before turning to you, “Sis, what the fuck!?”

“Instinct,” you say, a little shellshocked, blankly staring at the trio in front of you.

You stare as your…new little brother coos, cradled to his mother’s chest. Mark continues to berate your father, who explains that Thraxans ages faster than humans, which is why he’s so big for what should be a newborn.

Mark shakes your shoulder before pointing at your dad, “Are you even paying attention!? He literally—-with a grasshopper! Say something!”

“He kinda looks like you,” you observe, “When you were that young.”

He stares at you incredulously.

Debbie: Who’s the father!?

Singularity, holding baby Oliver: The better question is ‘who’s the mother?’

Debbie: Oh, honey, I’ve always known—

Singularity: Excuse me?

Mark: Yeah, things are looking up, I think.

*

Donald: The Graysons are back on Earth, but Singularity seems to have a purple baby??

Cecil: The kid has a kid now? They’ve only been gone for two months!

Donald: That’s what Debbie seems to be saying right now, at least. Well, we don’t have any information on how pregnancy works for female Viltrumites—

Cecil: Listen in!

*

Mark: I can’t believe the last thing he says to us is to read his books—

Singularity: Huh?

Mark: You were passed out, and what books??

Singularity: …is Space Rider real?

*

Singularity: If anything happens to this baby, I will actually end it

*

Mark: You got a lot of nice photos when we weren’t being beaten to death.

Singularity: Yeah, I’ll probably get a decent amount for them, Thraxa is a pretty place.

Mark: What are you going to tell them when they ask where the photos are from?

Singularity: That’s the neat thing; I won’t.

Mark:

Lol, Singularity took a family photo for Nolan, instinct from doing baby showers and family photos as a freelancer…

Yes, we do see some canon divergence here with Mark being abrasive with Omni-man from the start! He literally saw his dad stick a hand through his sister’s stomach and then found out their dynamic was a lot more harmful than he could have ever known! Mark seems to hold Nolan’s actions towards others against him more than his own pain.

And, have you noticed a pattern where sometimes the eldest child will be the nicest/most forgiving to bad parents while the younger one is more unhinged? I’m the younger sibling hehe

I would describe Mark’s weakness to be his inexperience while Singularity’s weakness is because of her experience, being unable to handle violence and responsibility, starting out as a hero at such a young age. If she were a computer, she’d have really good hardware that could run Elden Ring without overheating but software from the 2000s.

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Taken By Surprise

Request: Roy is always super careful to keep his eyes front and centre when passing the busy Richmond Ladies team dressing room. One day, he assumes it's empty, but it's not 🔥

Roy Kent x Reader

1.9k words (word count got away from me again, oops)

Warnings: Roy being a bit of a peeping tom for a minute, fem masturbation w/a vibrator, fingering, dirty talk

Sometimes, Roy found he really liked being the last person in the building. It was quiet and peaceful, free from the shouts and noises that usually filled the Dog Track. He appreciated the solitude, especially because it meant the women’s changing room would be empty.

He was a man, but he never wanted to be a creep. He always averted his eyes from their changing room, kept his gaze down or straight ahead as he strolled briskly by the always open door, ignoring the sounds of chattering and the scents of the different perfumes and body sprays the women used. And of course, doing his best to avoid the sight of the women in their sports bras and underwear, strolling around casually, not paying any mind when the men passed by. But while Roy respected the female athletes and acknowledged how incredibly hardworking and talented they were, he couldn’t deny how pretty some of them were. Especially one striker in particular.

So, to avoid any sort of temptation, Roy always either left with the group of Greyhounds who strolled out after training, pleasantly distracted by their conversations, or else sat around in his office until he was sure everyone else was gone. Tonight, because he wanted to spend some extra time looking over his lineup for an upcoming match, he chose the latter.

He hummed to himself as he walked out, pondering what he should pick up for dinner, when a peculiar sound caught his attention. It was… a buzzing of some kind. A weirdly familiar buzzing, actually. One that had an almost Pavlovian effect on the lower regions of his body.

He paused in the doorway, gulping at what he saw in what should have an empty changing room.

Your back was to him as you sat on the bench, covered only by the thin towel you wore, hair still damp from the shower you’d taken after training. From his spot in the doorway, he could see that your legs were spread slightly, and your head was rolling back leisurely as the monotone buzzing continued.

He should say something, he scolded himself. Surely, you thought you were alone; it was wrong of him to take advantage of your obliviousness just so he could indulge in a little fantasy. No matter how attracted to you he’d been since your first day at Nelson Road, he couldn’t just sit here, all slack-jawed and watching you pleasure yourself.

His stupid fucking principles won out over his wicked desires, prompting him to clear his throat, a louder, gruffer sound than he intended.

Your vibrator fell to the floor with a deafening clatter, continuing to buzz and hum as if you weren’t completely mortified. Even before you turned around with wide eyes, you knew exactly who had interrupted you. That growling voice filled every single one of your fantasies, including the one you’d been enjoying before the man himself interrupted you.

“Coach Kent,” you choked out, entire body burning with embarrassment when you finally remembered how to speak. “I, er, thought you’d gone for the day.”

He blinked at you, straining to keep his eyes trained on your pretty face instead of letting them wander down your barely covered form. “I kinda thought the same. About you, I mean. And everyone else.”

You tugged your towel closer around yourself, praying he couldn’t see the blush that surely covered every inch of skin. “Sometimes, I, um, stay late,” you tried to explain, doing your best to ignore the vibrator that somehow sounded louder the longer Roy Kent looked at you. “Do some…” You gulped, finally looking down at the traitorous toy. “… relaxing.”

Roy nodded slowly, wearing that pensive expression he often sported, the one where you swore you could see the cogs turning in his mind. “Relaxing,” he finally repeated, taking a tentative step into the changing room.

His footsteps echoed on the tile floor until he stood in front of the little purple object that started your abject humiliation. You winced, tightening your grip on what suddenly felt like a far too flimsy towel, watching the man who occupied way too many of your daydreams drop to one knee and pick up your vibrator and turn it off, silencing the changing room.

Still kneeling, Roy finally looked up into your face, raising those thick eyebrows at you as he handed you the toy. His voice was low, laced with hesitation and maybe some hope. “Need any help with your… relaxing?”

Your mouth went dry as you wrapped your hand around the vibrator, noting the way Roy didn’t quite let go. “Is that an offer, Coach Kent?” you breathed.

He nodded, the tip of his tongue sticking out to wet his lips. “If you want it to be.”

Oh fuck. Some voice in your head suggested pinching yourself, to make sure this wasn’t just a rerun of a dirty dream you’d had a couple weeks ago. But when his fingers brushed against yours, you were brought back to reality, a reality where Roy Kent was handing you a sex toy while looking at you with pure lust in those brown eyes.

“I’d appreciate some help,” you finally managed, a pulsing tingle spreading through your body. “Your help, that is.”

Roy glanced over his shoulder, as though making sure the two of you were truly alone. “Everyone from the men’s side is gone. What about here?”

Despite the embarrassment and lust fighting for priority in your chest, you let out a small giggle. “You really think I’d be doing that if anyone was around?”

The grin he shot you went straight between your legs. “Just let me lock the doors then. Don’t think we want to take any chances.” In a flash, he’d shut and locked every door he could find before turning his fiery gaze back to you. He strode back, oozing confidence now, and straddled the bench beside you. “C’mere,” he growled softly.

Your arousal overcoming whatever remained of your embarrassment, you did as you were told, scooching closer to the manager whose eyes bore into yours severely. With a grunt, he laid his hands on you, his grip firm but softer than you expected, and shifted you until you were sitting with your back against his chest, an intimate position that made your heart race so fast you were sure Roy could feel it through your towel.

“May I?” he asked, tugging at the only thing you wore. When you nodded, he hooked a finger under your chin and turned your face towards his. “Use your words, darling.”

Darling. Oh hell, when was the last time a man made you gulp like this? “Yes, please,” you managed to whisper, your eyes shifting between his mouth and those fiery brown eyes.

With a pleased little hum, Roy swiftly shifted the towel until your cunt was exposed. When you gasped at the cool air against your sex, Roy let out a little chuckle that rumbled against your body. “Someone cold?” he tsked. His fingers began flittering up your thigh. “Should I warm you up?” With that, he attached his mouth to yours harshly, letting his tongue glide against yours as his fingers found your cunt.

You moaned into each other’s mouths as he inched two thick fingers into you, the sensation filling you better than you ever could on your own. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring the feeling of your walls pulsing around his digits.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Already so fucking wet. What were you thinking about before I interrupted you?”

Play coy, you told yourself. Don’t be so damn desperate-

But then his thumb found your clit with ease, rubbing it with a tenderness you never would have expected from Roy Kent.

“You,” you moaned, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Was thinking about you, Roy.”

A strangled noise rippled through his chest and throat as he inched his fingers deeper. “Me?” he asked in a thick honeyed voice. “What about me?”

No use trying to be cool anymore. “Was imagining you bending me over-” The feeling of his fingers curling upwards had you whining. “-over in the shower,” you finished.

Roy let out a curious little hum. “I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he teased. His mouth found your neck, planting rough kisses along your skin. A shiver flew through your body when he let his tongue glide over the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Oh, do we like that?”

Your only response was to widen your already spread legs, silently begging Roy to bury his fingers deeper in your aching cunt. He obliged, finding the spot that made your back arch. His wicked smile felt good against your skin as he chuckled darkly.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he cooed as indecently wet noises filled the changing room. “Just the way I imagined you would.” His breath was hot in your ear. “And I’ve imagined you a lot,” he admitted in a low voice. He moaned when he felt your walls tighten around him, a sign of your approaching climax.

His free hand wandered up your body until he found your breast. Keeping up the rough pace he’d set in your cunt, he cupped your breast, roughly groping you and pinching your nipple until it hardened to his liking. He began squirming behind you, his obvious hardon pressing against you deliciously. His moans, his touch, his scent, his everything had you gushing around his fingers, creating soaked noises you didn’t even know were possible.

“Roy,” you panted, rutting against his hand. “I’m so fucking close.”

He nodded, returning his mouth to your neck. “I know, baby,” he groaned. A third finger slid into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around my cock after this.”

His dirty words had your head spinning. “I want your cock so bad,” you babbled, vision beginning to blur. “Please, Roy. Please fuck me.”

“After,” he promised. “Cum all over my fingers, and then I’ll fuck you all you want.”

Those magical words throbbed through your body, all the way down to your pussy. “Yes,” you gasped as the tension in your lower tummy threatened to snap. “Please, Roy, please.”

His fingers scraped along your walls just right, sending you right over the edge. All you could see were stars as you felt yourself soak his fingers, his hand, his wrist, the bench you sat on. Later, you’d realize it was probably the most you’d ever cum in your life; it would have been almost embarrassing if it wasn’t obvious that Roy Kent was nothing short of pleased by your orgasm. Your body jerked against his as he pumped in and out roughly, determined to leave you a sopping mess. His pants were painfully tight at the sight of you writhing and moaning, so desperate and beautiful, just for him.

When you finally began to come down from your high, he pressed a kiss to your temple and carefully removed his fingers from your aching cunt. He brought his fingers to his mouth, holding your gaze as he licked the dripping juices you’d left him with.

“Delicious,” he moaned, throwing his head back. “Could taste you all day, gorgeous.”

The sight had your pussy throbbing again, begging him to make good on his promise.

“You could do more than taste,” you reminded him coyly, leaning back into him, desperate to feel that bulge closer to your still needy cunt. “A lot more.”

He nodded, returning his hand to your folds to massage you gently, earning a loud moan from you. “Someone mentioned something about being bent over in the showers?” he teased. “I think that could be arranged.”

[maretinelli]

FAILED MEETING

Ollie Bearman X fem!reader

Summary: Where the four times Ollie helped Y/n get over her failed dates, but on the fifth, she realizes that what she was looking for was right there in front of her the whole time.

Words: 3.5K+

Warnings: Best friends since childhood to lovers and Ollie being really cute with Y/n, Mention of college reader, mention of alcoholic beverages, a part where Y/n is a little drunk but it's funny, Ollie taking care of her, and mentions of meeting other guys, happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

1st Failed Meeting.

Y/n was there, sitting at the table, trying to focus on the words coming out of the mouth of the man in front of her. He seemed to be very outgoing, wanting to show off everything he had achieved, his travels, his projects, his successes.

At first, Y/n thought he was just a bubbly person who liked to share stories about himself. She tried to stay interested by smiling and nodding, but as time went on, she began to realize that he wasn't the least bit interested in hearing about her.

Every time she started to speak, he interrupted her, going back to his own conquests.

"I, of course, have already been to Paris, as I said. And when I got there, everyone was impressed with my work." He said, not noticing the look of frustration that formed in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n started to feel invisible, like she was an accessory in his conversation, not someone he really wanted to talk to. She looked at her watch, feeling like she needed to get out of there.

It was impossible to stay there.

"I... I think I have to go. I have an appointment that just came up." Y/n said, standing up quickly.

"But... are you serious? Already?" He looked at her with a look of surprise, still trying to grasp what was happening.

"Yeah, I'm really late." Y/n replied, forcing a smile. "I'll pay my share at the counter."

She grabbed her bag and stood up, leaving the table before he had time to react. When she left the restaurant, she quickly grabbed her phone and texted Ollie.

'S.O.S. I need rescue.'

'I'm on 5th Avenue, Italian restaurant ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ"

Minutes later, Ollie appeared. She smiled in relief when she saw him. He had a curious smile on his face, but his expression soon softened.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" Ollie asked, laughing as she got into the car.

Y/n sighed, giving a wry smile. "You have no idea. The guy is... THE GUY ONLY TALKS ABOUT HIMSELF, Ollie. He's a narcissist! He interrupted me every time I tried to talk about myself. I couldn't even tell him I like coffee with milk without him starting to talk about the last time he had coffee at a fancy restaurant."

Ollie laughed out loud, amusement evident on his face. "So how was he feeling, being the only interesting human being in the conversation?"

"He was loving it! I have no words, Ollie."

He laughed again. "I knew it was going to be a disaster. He seemed pretty perfect at first, didn't he?" Ollie starts driving.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'perfect'... Except not. He has no idea how to be a person."

Ollie glanced at her, the amused expression still on his face. "Do you want to come over to my apartment? I ordered a pizza a few minutes ago and it should be here soon. Maybe you'll be able to forget about the whole disaster."

Y/n smiled at the offer. "That sounds perfect."

As he drove, the two felt comfortable with each other. They had been friends for so many years, and she felt that, through it all, Ollie had always been there for her, more than anyone else.

Since childhood, the two had exchanged confidences, and Y/n, although she knew how much she cared for him, still didn't have the courage to say how sorry she was. Ollie, on the other hand, had always had the same feeling, but was afraid to confess and risk their friendship.

They arrived at Ollie's apartment, and he began to talk about the training he had done that day. "It was intense. I'm really excited to get back on the track. I hope the car can handle the changes. I need more practice time."

Y/n listened to him attentively, enjoying seeing him so excited, her smile widening as she felt the comfortable atmosphere around her.

She took off her heels and placed them near the door, next to Ollie's sneakers. It was like she was home.

Ollie walked over to the intercom to answer the pizza, and then turned to Y/n, a soft look in his eyes. "I have some comfortable clothes here if you want. You can grab something from my closet."

Y/n looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. You're probably bothered by that skirt and tights, aren't you?"

Y/n smiled and walked closer to him. "You know me very well." She hugged him affectionately, placing her head on his shoulder, and then placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck, which made her smile shyly. "Thank you, Ollie."

Ollie was quiet for a moment, feeling the softness of her touch, but he smiled. "I'll get the pizza downstairs. Make yourself at home."

Y/n watched him walk away, the heat from their interaction still in her body as the feeling she had always had for him intensified, something she could no longer ignore.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

2nd Failed Meeting.

The date seemed promising at first. Y/n and the guy had agreed on something simple: to go out for ice cream in the afternoon. The weather was cold, but nothing a milkshake couldn't make up for. At first, she thought it would be a pleasant afternoon.

But she soon realized she was wrong.

He spent most of his time looking at his phone, laughing at messages and occasionally commenting on other girls. He talked about how his ex was still trying to get back together with him, how a college friend of his was 'too hot' and how a girl he met on Instagram seemed 'too nice'.

At no point did he ask anything about Y/n. Not about her day, not about what she liked, nothing.

Then he got a message and laughed out loud. "Oh my god, look at this!" He said, but didn't bother showing it to Y/n.

It was there that she realized he really didn't want to be there.

Y/n just sighed and decided it wasn't worth wasting any more time. She stood up, grabbed her bag and said without hesitation, "I need to go. My parents are going out and they need the car."

The guy barely looked up from his phone. "Oh, no problem. We'll talk later."

She rolled her eyes, grabbed the untouched milkshake, and walked out of the fancy ice cream shop.

Getting into the car, he took out his cell phone and sent a message to Ollie.

'Meet me in the park near Big Ben?'

The answer came within seconds.

'I'll be there in a few minutes. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)'

Y/n started the car and drove to the meeting point. On the way, she laughed to herself, remembering the absurd things he had said.

"Thank God I got out."

As she reached the park, the chilly London wind blew her hair away. She leaned against the railing, looking out at Big Ben and the bridge. The biting cold called for a thick coat, and Y/n was wearing a cozy sweater and scarf, but she still felt the wind blowing against her face.

That's when he felt a hand land gently on his shoulder.

"How many minutes did you last this time?" Ollie asked, leaning against the railing beside her, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Long enough to hear him talk about other girls like I was one of his friends."

Ollie's eyes widened in disbelief. "No kidding."

"I swear! He spent the whole time on his phone and laughing at the messages he received. Oh, and he even told me, all excited, that his ex still isn't over him."

Ollie laughed out loud. "Was this a date or a therapy session for him?"

"I should have charged for that." Y/n laughed along.

Ollie watched her, enchanted without even realizing it. The sparkle in her eyes as she spoke, the way the wind made her hair dance in the air, the way she wrinkled her nose every time she talked about the idiot she had gone out with.

Everything about her seemed perfect to him. It always had.

She noticed his gaze and smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Ollie said, quickly looking away at the view of the river. "I'm just trying to understand how someone sets you up on a date and then decides to ignore you."

Y/n laughed, tossing her hair back. "Yeah, I wanted to understand too."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You know, maybe it's your fault."

"Mine?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Yes. You always attract the most bizarre cases. I think you have a special talent for it."

Y/n pushed him lightly, laughing. "Funny."

Ollie pointed to the cup in his hand. "What's up? Did you buy a milkshake to drown your sorrows?"

She lifted her nearly full glass and sighed dramatically. "Yes. My great consolation after the worst date of my life."

"Well, at least the milkshake didn't ignore you to talk about his ex." Ollie joked.

Y/n laughed again, feeling her heart warm with his presence. With Ollie, everything was different. Everything was light, fun, safe. She knew, deep down, that no date would work out because no guy would be like him.

But confessing it? That was the real challenge.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

3rd Failed Meeting

From the beginning, Y/n could tell something was wrong.

The guy didn't just seem excited, he was scary. Before they even had their first drink, he was already talking about marriage, kids, and how they were 'made for each other'.

Y/n listened to everything with wide eyes, trying to understand why he was so convinced that she was 'the woman of his life' after just a few exchanged messages and casual encounters at college.

He acted as if they were already in love, talking about their future together, their travel plans, their children's names, how his mother would love to meet her. All this without even knowing what her favorite food was.

They were in a bar near the college, and Y/n, completely scared by every word that came out of his mouth, started drinking. A tequila. Then, a shot of vodka. Then beer. Each sip was a momentary relief from the barrage of exaggerated statements he made.

When she realized that the alcohol was already rising and that she definitely couldn't stay there, she decided to find a way to leave.

"I... just remembered that I need to go home. My parents need me there."

She grabbed her bag and hurriedly got up, leaving before he could say anything.

As soon as he left there, he picked up his cell phone and found a message from Ollie.

'So, how's the date going?'

'Terrible. And I'm a little drunk. I need to get home, but I can't drive.'

'I'm coming to get you, babe'

The bar was close to the college, so she walked over and sat down on the steps of the block where her course rooms were. She wasn't completely drunk—not to the point where she was throwing up or couldn't walk—but she knew she wasn't sober enough to drive or take a taxi by herself.

A few minutes later, a taxi pulled up in front of her. Ollie got out of the car, said something to the driver, and paid the fare before looking in Y/n's direction.

She was sitting on the stairs, looking down at the ground with a dejected expression. He couldn't tell if it was because of the disastrous date or simply because she was tired from class.

He walked up the steps and smiled. "Wow, Y/n. You look great. Radiant, even."

Y/n looked up, snorted, and smiled. "Shut up."

"Come on, I'll help you." Ollie laughed and held out his hands to her.

She took his hands, and Ollie gently pulled her up, helping her to her feet. Once she was standing, she sighed. "The guy was already talking about kids, marriage, our country house, and naming our dogs."

Ollie's eyes widened. "Bullshit."

"I swear. And the worst part? He acted like we'd been married for years. Like... we don't even know each other!"

"You attract such a weirdo..." Ollie chuckled, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, crossing her arms. Ollie then held out his hand to her.

Half drunk and a little lost, Y/n just slapped his palm and said excitedly: "HIGH-FIVE!"

Ollie laughed, tilting his head back. "Y/n, I wanted your car keys, not a high-five."

She frowned and then raised her eyebrows, as if she understood the logic of it. "Ahhh. Here..."

Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to him with a smile.

"Thanks." Ollie laughed, putting away the keys and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go home, honey."

Y/n snuggled against him as they walked towards the parking lot. Ollie felt torn on one hand, seeing Y/n hanging out with other guys always made him sad.

But on the other hand, he liked being the person who always rescued her. I enjoyed taking care of her, even if it was after failed dates and a few extra shots of tequila.

As they got into the car, Ollie put on his seatbelt. Y/n watched him closely, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so beautiful." She commented suddenly.

Ollie paused for a second, turned his face to her and raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk."

"That doesn't mean it's a lie." She smiled even wider.

Ollie laughed, starting the car. "Okay, let's get you home before you propose to me too."

•••••••••••••••••••••

4th Failed Meeting

Dinner had barely started, and Y/n already wanted to run away.

The guy couldn't stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. About how perfect she was. About how she broke his heart. About how sometimes he still dreamed about her.

Y/n tried to change the subject a few times, but he always found a way to go back to his ex. The worst part? He started comparing her to the girl. The way she spoke, the way she played with her hair, even her smile, everything was identical to his ex-girlfriend.

It was enough for Y/n to realize that he was definitely not ready to move on. So before dessert arrived, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

"Look... I hope you can get over your ex one day. But I'm not her, and you clearly don't want to be here with me. Good luck."

She left without looking back, ignoring any protests he might make.

As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk, he took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the frustration of the encounter. But when he looked up, he saw a car parked on the other side of the street.

A car that looked absurdly familiar.

She frowned and walked closer. When she saw who was behind the wheel, she laughed in surprise and knocked on the window.

Ollie smiled from inside and unlocked the doors. Y/n quickly got into the car and turned to him.

"What are you doing here?" She raised her eyebrows. "I haven't even had time to call for help yet!"

Ollie chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. "My parents ordered dinner from this restaurant. I came to pick it up." He then gave her an amused look. "But then I saw you sitting inside with a panicked look on your face. I decided to wait, because I was sure that in a matter of minutes you would either come out or send a message asking for rescue."

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise. "You know me too well."

"It's a gift." Ollie shrugged, smiling.

She was silent for a second, her heart pounding. She wanted so badly to tell him. To tell him that, since childhood, he had been her favorite person. That, through all these failed dates, the only constant was him.

So instead he just smiled.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

"What was the problem this time?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still smiling.

Y/n snorted, leaning her head back against the bench. "He couldn't stop talking about his ex. From the beginning to the end of dinner."

Ollie grimaced. "Really?"

"Seriously. And not only that! He compared me to her all the time. He said that the way I moved my hair reminded him of her, that my smile was just like hers, that even my voice sounded like hers."

"For God's sake." The pilot's mouth fell open in shock.

"I know!" Y/n threw her hands up. "Like, why did he go out with me? He's clearly still in love with her!"

Ollie laughed, shaking his head. "You have a magnet for bad dates. I told you!"

"I'm starting to think so." She laughed, turning to him. "I think I'll stop trying for a while."

Ollie looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead, he just drove on and smiled.

"Good idea. And anyway, you don't need dates when you already have the most amazing best friend in the world to save you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart race.

Maybe one day she would finally be able to tell him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Last Failed Date.

The meeting wasn't bad. The guy was nice, handsome, polite and even funny. They had fluid conversations, laughed at the same things, and Y/n almost allowed herself to believe that it could finally work out.

But with every laugh, every witty comment, she realized she was comparing everything to Ollie.

The way he told jokes. The way he moved his hair, his voice, his jokes. Gosh, even physically, he reminded me a little of Ollie.

And it was there, in the middle of dinner, that everything became clear.

What she was looking for was always right beside her.

She put the glass down on the table with a sigh and looked at the boy in front of her.

"Look... I need to be honest with you."

"Go ahead." He raised his eyebrows curiously.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're an amazing, kind, polite, and thoughtful guy. But there's someone... someone I need to see right now. I need to tell them how I feel before it's too late. I'm sorry."

He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I'm glad you realized that on the first date, so my heart doesn't break as much."

"I'm sorry, again." Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

"No need to apologize." He shrugged. "Good luck with your love!" He smiled, genuinely rooting for her.

Y/n smiled, paid her share and left the restaurant, her heart racing.

All the way to Ollie's apartment, her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. How would he react? What if it was too late? What if she had misinterpreted everything?

But one thing was certain, she had to try.

When she arrived at the building, the receptionist just smiled and let her pass without needing to tell him; she was already as much a part of that place as Ollie.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door.

When Ollie opened it, his eyes widened to see her there, crying softly, with her hands in the pocket of her denim jacket and her makeup slightly smudged.

"Y/n?" He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her lightly inside, closing the door behind them. "What happened? Did he do something to you? Because if he did, I swear I-"

"No, no!" Y/n shook her head quickly, wiping away a tear. "Nothing bad happened. The date was good, the guy was sweet, but..." She took a deep breath, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. "I left because I realized I love someone else."

Ollie froze. His heart stopped for a second, dreading hearing another guy's name leave her lips. But then, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and looked deep into his eyes, tears starting to fall again.

"The man I love has known me since I was a child. He knows when I'm having a bad day, knows exactly what to do to cheer me up. He takes me on runs, lends me his sweatshirts, takes care of me when my parents are away on business..." Ollie held his breath, his heart hammering. "He's my best friend..."

The last sentence came out in a whisper, full of emotion.

Ollie's eyes lit up. One second his hands were on her face, and the next he was pulling her into a kiss.

It was soft, tender, but at the same time full of urgency, as if they had both been waiting for this for years. Between one kiss and another, smiles formed, hands clasped, as if they wanted to be sure that it was real.

When they broke apart, Ollie rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

"I've loved you since I was little," he confessed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "It hurt to see you go out with all those guys, but I was relieved when it didn't work out because I knew you'd come back to me. I always wanted to take care of you like you were my own."

Y/n smiled, her hands wrapping around his neck. "I've always been yours, I just didn't realize it before. But I'm here now, and forever. You just have to want it too."

Ollie smiled, his eyes full of love. "I want you today, tomorrow and always."

And then he kissed her again, finally sealing everything that had always been there.

Y/n's hands slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth and familiarity that had always been there, but now with a completely different meaning. Ollie sighed against her lips, smiling between one kiss and another, as if he couldn't believe that this was really happening.

But now, there was no more hesitation, just the certainty that they were finally where they were supposed to be.

[demonixoverlord]

dunno if im late or nuthin but this took me a couple weeks to do cough @quartztwst for the uhhh... *flips through papers* .. no yandere au yeaahhh (i might do myself / my yuusona as well, im debating it haha)

magic level ^^^ he's pretty good in general, with his strongest being more.. phenomenon ish? (ref: this post ig) he'd probably be a rival, only due to the fact that he tolerates Azul and doesn't condone murder lol (might change? idk)

Q/A questions under cut

Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

He lives with his parents in a pretty nice house near where his parents work (aka S.T.Y.X cough) and tends to walk with Idia to school (most likely forcibly lol)

What are their thoughts on Quartz? He finds her interesting, although a bit sceptical because he can tell somethings fishy with how she talks about Azul and acts around him. He does try to see if she's doing alright on occasion, worried if she's masking due to personal issues, issues at home, etc.

What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Macarius is positively neutral about Azul, admiring him for his status but also judgemental about his tactics. Since Macarius tends to help Idia a lot or just stay nearby for social support (we all need someone to speak for the introverts lol) he met Azul at the end of one of the council meetings, and again at clubs. Due to seeing Azul often at clubs, he's gotten to know him slightly better.

Your OC stumbles upon a dead body a few feet outside of the school. Do they report it? Immediately. He first of all wants justice for the victim, but he also doesn't want the enviroment nearby to smell of rot. (lol)

Why does your OC like their crush?

Growing up knowing Idia from their parents working together, he grew closer to Idia and admired him for his skill. Aside from that, Macarius slowly came to the realization that he likes boys as well, more specifically Idia. Of course he doesn't entirely know why or how, especially due to his ex-girlfriend pretty much ruining his expectations of relationships, but he's coping through it.

Since reputation and popularity are kind of different, is your OC popular in and outside of school?

He's pretty neutral standing outside of school, being known for his community garden attempts (he's probably still trying lol). In school however? He somehow became the person lots of first years come to, and has been told he's attractive (he, of course, doesn't believe these often haha)

How social is your OC? Do they stray away from crowds? Macarius doesn't exactly hate crowds, but he wouldn't choose to be in a large one (events being exceptions) since lots of people tend to overwhelm him (and Idia, who he's more worried about :P)

Which TWST character does your OC believe should have more admirers than Azul? He's actually surprised by the amount Azul has, considering Vil also has an admirer hoard, but he isn't complaining since he's happy for Azul in some way. However, Macarius is glad there isn't too many after Idia, considering it'd probably overwhelm him and he'd have to force him to leave his house haha

What are their relationships with other characters/OCs? Shin ( @liyuviq ): "Clever. I admire their persistence. Not everything is a case, however." Macarius likes to consider being their friend, however he doesn't exactly want to push anything, so he doesn't say much about it haha Shuu ( @oya-oya-okay) "Surprisngly sweet. Her hair reminds me of orange lillies." He finds her entertaining, and admires her kindness. He hasn't talked to her as much unless its in passing periods or in their shared class(es) so he makes the effort to try checking in on her from time to time just to be polite. To new / first years, some consider him to be a big brother to them, showing them their classes and helping them navigate the school until they have the hang of it. What grade/year is your OC? 3rd year (18), same as Idia. (he's only a few months older than Idia) Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this? He doesn't at first, thinking he was seeing things. After a few more times, he quietly told Riddle about it, unsure if he wanted to go as far as school officals yet. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz? Macarius would be probably very surprised and hurt, but still respectful about telling others that it wasn't him. Unless he knew more, he wouldn't have much of a hunch on Quartz without infomation.

What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life? He wants to start a school community garden, using technology to help the advancement of plants and agriculture without harming them.

Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch? Macarius is normally with Idia during passing periods or classes they share, as well as lunch. However, he occasionally tutors at lunch (which makes Idia nervous since he sits with him haha) or examines the school's yard(s) in an attempt to plan out a future garden somewhere.

How are your OC's grades? Almost always A's or B's, with the occasional C if he's confused on a subject. (such as English)

Which elimination tactic is preferred to use on them? *shrug* What are your OC's weaknesses? Are they easily manipulated? Easily overpowered by? He's only easily manipulated if he's close to them, especially relationship wise (i.e. his exgf) which is why he tries to keep some people at arms length. For weaknesses, he's pretty neutral on most unless its about Idia (cough very protective cough) or needles (he doesn't enjoy them haha)

Any drama, traumatic story for your OC in the AU? i mean, eh? you can check his lore page if you wanna take that and mush it with this I dunno

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

"You missed me, aadmit it, you missed me!" (friggin bill cipher quotes are in my brain)

They're goofy and I needed more of them- They're my favorite dumbasses

Fun lil chapter with a bit of reprieve from the angst. Although Star still is struggling with the sussy bs, The main point is just as the title of the chapter describes. All about finding some distractions. Avoidance and denial are always the best coping mechanisms :3

Previous Chapter: Not All Scars Can Be Welded

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: A Game Of Charades

Chapter 15: Distractions

Once Starscream managed to reach the Terran’s little lab, he began carefully opening the cabinets in search of that energon. He found an assortment of inventions in progress, and organized cashets of parts and tools. Nightshade was actually rather impressive. Wheeljack could certainly learn something from the kid on the matter of structure. That inventor’s workspace had always looked like a typhoon had blazed through any chance Starscream had passed his door in the Academy. 

Eventually, he found the box designated for energon, and flicked open the lid. Of course it was in an Autobot crate. He should have thought of that first, really. Starscream’s focus immediately drifted away from the cubes, and landed on the patches. Those would be far easier to carry, as well as more convenient when he’d likely only purge the liquid variety in his current state. He wouldn’t exactly call that productive. So, he gathered as many of the patches as he could, stuffed a couple sheets of metal he found in their place, and covered it with the remaining patches before sealing the crate again. 

Starscream once again found the need to trace the perimeter on the journey back to his room. It was ridiculous that his leg and helm were continuing to put up such a fuss, but no matter. He was still plenty capable of achieving this minor victory of hiding away his little stash of energon. He could perhaps even periodically gather more bit by bit to increase it without them knowing. That’d be at least something to quell his nerves. 

Once all was in its place, he stumbled again as he stood, but pushed himself up stubbornly and glanced out the doorway. Starscream chuckled darkly at the fleeting revelation of how much this reminded him of those vorns on the Nemesis. Getting crippled by Megatron, limping across the halls, hoarding bits of energon. It was quite the classic it seemed. One that never ceased to humiliate him. Although a fact that has only proved his superior resilience. This was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Confident now, aren’t we?” Meridian quipped and projected the insight that he was most certainly mocking Starscream’s previous statement towards the humans.

Starscream tightened his grip around the doorframe. “Yes. Actually. Now silence. I have no need for your petty interference.” He attempted to move towards the exit, but found his servo locked in place with a wave of disorientation as his optics flickered. He stumbled against it to prevent himself from falling, and put his other servo to his faceplate in a futile effort to stop those images from infecting his processor. 

When he finally got his optics to work in some semblance of clarity again, Mandroid was right in his faceplate, with an expression filled with contempt while still managing to look unimpressed. It was disgusting. “For someone with such a disgraceful record as yours, you have nothing to prove yourself worthy of such credence. You were notoriously ruthless in the war, and even if you fought beside these…Terrans, against me once, you clearly only know how to continue to destroy all that surrounds you. Why stop now? Why not give in to your nature?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you honestly believe that you can show your face up there and talk to them like you don't have a kill count in the thousands, with even more personal betrayals to speak of? Perhaps you could start a conversation by showing a shred of reverence. Yet we both know you’re incapable of such a thing.” Meridian was pacing around him with his floating helm following him as he moved. 

Starscream knew this abomination wasn’t real. He didn’t know why his processor was projecting this, but logically, there was no way Meridian was here. He was dead. They had melted that horrid suit he carried his corpse in. It was flatly impossible. Starscream just needed to ignore it. His inventive processor had been on overdrive as of late, and he just needed to push through like he always did. 

So, he forced himself to disconnect from the wall and walk right through the spector. Starscream put all his focus on keeping his peds steady. On the crisp, real pain that shot from his knee that loved to taunt him at the most convenient of times. He found the activation switch to reveal the stairs to the outside, and ignored anything that was supposedly lingering behind him. 

“Nothing to add?” A putrid laugh. “Go ahead then. Make a fool of yourself. Say hi to Alex for me.”

Starscream wasn’t listening to any of it. He didn’t care. Meridian didn’t deserve his attention. If that even was Meridian at all. Either way, he wasn’t going to grace it with another thought. He was going to get out of this suffocating confinement, and get some much needed stimulation. Any sort of distraction was exactly what he needed. 

Bumblebee was always a good option for some meaningless yet entertaining bouts of banter. He’d be the best candidate for Starscream’s attention. Any of the Terrans would surely be far too complicated to navigate at the moment. What would he possibly say to them? Hashtag? How would that conversation go? He still didn’t know how to make anything up to her, and now would most certainly not be the right time to contemplate it. 

The trap door closed behind him as he exited, and he slowly pushed aside the doors to the barn. Starscream hovered there a moment as he took in everyone’s positions. The humans had their wall opened up for the Terrans to share in their fueling session. They had some type of wrapped, organic slag, while the kids had some oddly shaped, frozen confection on a stick. It seemed like more of an excuse for a social event, like the Decepticons often did during their breaks. Perhaps such a thing wasn’t an abhorrent waste of time as he had once thought. Hashtag looked happy. 

That cursed vision of Unicron cut through him in a fleeting, yet persisting force. It was coming. None of this mattered. Their meager moment of joy was nothing. Meridians scheming meant nothing. His defiance meant nothing. In the face of eternity, in the face of a god. They were all…

No. What was he thinking? It was just his overdramatic processor again. It had to be. 

It had to be.

He needed to find Bumblebee. Focus on something else. Where was he? 

Starscream shook his helm and shifted his wings. He felt for the subtle gusts of wind, filtered the structures and flora with those cows that surrounded him in his optics; as well as tuning his audials to minute notes of sound. Solid. Real. Like the absurd noises those creatures made, or the familiar pacing of peds around the corner. 

He traced the edge of the barn and finally found just the mech he was looking for. That mattered enough. Right? Right. 

Starscream leaned one servo on the exterior wall of the barn, and put the other on his hip. “Hey.”

Bumblebee was stacking cubes of hay–an amusing name for such a thing–a couple brandishing painted targets. “What?”

Scrap. What did he want to discuss with the bug again? Surely he had some sort of direction in mind for this interaction. 

There was a moment of awkward silence between them as the question to his greeting went unanswered. He couldn’t let the scout think he came here without some sort of purpose! He needed to think of something. There had to have been something. 

“Weellll…” Starscream began with an air of boredom laced with confidence. “Surely you were deprived of my presence for long enough after that…unfortunate, incident with Megatron. I am here to graciously offer my company! What are you doing?”

“Riiight. I’m just setting up a small target practice game for the kids for after they finish lunch.” Bumblebee placed another cube, then pointed to the color coded rings on the target. “The exercise is on accuracy, and I even have a fun point system with prizes planned for them! Ehhh I admit, Alex helped me figure out the prizes–but the rest is all yours truly!” He put a proud servo to his chest plate. 

Starscream hesitated a moment as he scrutinized the rudimentary setup. “It’s a little… plain. No aerial targets? No projectiles for them to dodge? Tell me you are at least planning on throwing some incoming blaster fire. How would this teach anything?”

Bumblebee’s faceplate scrunched, then he ex-vented in frustration. “It isn’t meant to be so intense, just a bit of low stakes friendly competition to build some confidence. Not everything has to be some high stress ordeal to teach you something, thank you very much.” He dropped a cube to punctuate his statement, then knelt down to adjust it with a small grumble. “These kids already have plenty experience with that scrap if you ask me.”

“Hm…I suppose.” Wait, no, he couldn’t let the conversation lull out like that with only some passive agreement! He shifted his expression back into a comfortable smirk and prodded at the bug. “Are you certain that you are not simply too soft-sparked to allow them proper training? For Primus sake, a couple pebbles tossed their way wouldn’t permanently damage them. If you truly have confidence in their ability, you wouldn’t underestimate their threshold for punishment.”

Bumblebee tossed his servos in the air in some note of defeat. “Fine! I MIGHT add something for them to dodge. Like…water balloons! Ohoh now THAT would be perfect!” He bounced in place a moment before remembering where the objects he sought were located. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

The bug dashed off towards the humans for their assistance in the matter. He had taken that criticism surprisingly well. Perhaps Dorothy had talked to him about that patience slag or something. Starscream wasn’t sure if he was entirely enthused about that prospect or not. It was strange having the bug agree to some degree instead of turning to accuse him of some sort of scheme against them. 

Starscream began tapping his ped in an effort to cement its presence below him as those images came into view again. Bumblebee was taking too long. What was it that he was even looking for with such urgency? Rocks would work just as well as whatever it was he was insisting upon. Why did it matter so much? The kids needed to be prepared for more than ridiculous little scoreboards anyway. Why had Starscream even initially agreed to that scrap?! None of them knew what was approaching, and they wouldn’t believe him if he warned them. Or…WAS it even something to worry about…?

“Hope ya didn’t miss me too much.” Bumblebee suddenly arrived and tossed a sack of flimsy elastics in his direction, of which Starscream instinctively caught with ease.

“What is this?” He inquired with a hint of disgust as he took one of the miniscule, assumed balloons from its packaging.

“They’re the water balloons, and since you wanted there to be projectiles so bad, YOU can fill ‘em up for me.” The scout strutted over to his ridiculous stacks of hay to continue his work with a smirk. 

“Uugh…” Starscream groaned as he rolled his optics. “This–” He shook the elastics– “was not MY decision. You really only fill this scrap with water? How droll.”

“Yup! There’s a spigot right over there.” The bug gestured a couple yards from Starscream’s ped. “I suggest you get to filling those things because it’s gonna take ya quite a while. Trust me. It’s more difficult than you might think to deal with those things.”

Starscream scoffed and knelt down beside the spigot and carefully examined the fragile, sack-like elastics. “Don’t be dramatic, Bumblebee. I sincerely doubt this pathetic thing could possibly pose such a challenge.”

“Uuuhuh. I warned ya.”

Starscream glared at him suspiciously. Did he sabotage these things somehow? 

He adjusted the balloon to the spigot and slowly began to crank the tiny, human sized wheel. If anything, it was absurdly precise and tedious. Then, the elastic abruptly detached itself and catapulted into the mud that resulted from the loose water. 

Bumblebee laughed. “See? Not so easy is it?”

“Oh spare me the “I told you so”, and focus on setting your stupid excuse for targets over there.” He carefully attempted to pull open the elastic to fill it again, but it only tore into a useless mess. Whatever. He’d get a different one. This wasn’t so hard. Besides, such meticulous work was a perfect task to keep his own focus tethered to this ridiculous moment.

“Excuse me, my targets are resourceful and awesome.” Bumblebee proclaimed as he gestured to one of the stacks. 

“Such strong words.” Starscream crooned. “Insecure about your lackluster little set up, are you?”

“Pff–” The scout scoffed with an indignant toss of a servo at the idea– “Hah, no! What would I have to be insecure about? That’s ridiculous. This idea is perfect and they are going to love it.” There was a moment of pause as he retrieved another cube and continuously readjusted their arrangement. “Right? Yeah. I know good target practice! You’re just a hater, as the kids say.”

Starscream snickered at the bug's antics, but growled as one of the balloons burst from merely being placed inside the bucket. These things were so weak. Why they were better than his rock suggestion was beyond him. “I will gladly be your ever loyal hater, Autobot.” He flicked his wings up tauntingly with a momentary glance back at Bumblebee. 

He rolled his optics. “Gee, thanks. I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

A more comfortable lapse in conversation fell between them as Starscream focused on the rhythm he’d gotten filling the silly little balloons. A couple of those birds were communicating in passing above them in some strange string of music. Bumblebee’s constant pacing was quite amusing to track, paired with his occasional muttering. Even taking an occasional moment to parse out what the Maltos were up to in the background proved to be a productive use of his attention. 

Eventually, he topped off a fifth bucket filled with water balloons ready to be tossed at those unsuspecting Terrans. They had finished their fueling session and made their way towards Bumblebee’s target practice. He relayed the objective, displayed the parameters, and informed them that Starscream was going to be the one giving them an extra bit of a challenge to the exercise. Perfect. 

Twitch was the first up. She watched him and waved a taunting servo in his direction. Starscream carefully selected one of the balloons, retracted his servo into his arm, and launched the projectile her way. She dodged it with ease. Impressive. The longer her turn went on, the more difficult he made his watery onslaught as he rapidly threw them her way and predicted her pattern of flight. Soon enough, She failed to dodge three of the shots, which put an end to her streak. 

“Aw scrap! I totally thought I dodged that one!”

“You nearly would have, except you failed to account for your opponent changing their own trajectory at the last second.”

“You did great though! Never missed a target.” Bumblebee encouraged as he reset the cubes.

Hashtag was up next. She readied herself on her wheels after a quick scan of her surroundings, and the next round began on the scout’s signal. She had many close calls and missed one of her shots because of it. Yet halfway through, a new air of determination came to her faceplate, and her movements became more fluid and precise. Alas, once again, as Starscream allowed himself to aim with unyielding precision, she lost the rest of her strikes. The last hitting her square in the faceplate. It was good they weren’t rocks after all, he supposed. 

“Augh! Dang it, I was so on a roll that time!” 

“Hah! Perhaps, but if you want to keep your stamina for long term battles, you have to get consistent.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the teacher here Screamer!” Bumblebee complained plainly as he replaced the targets.

Starscream put a servo to his hip and arched an optical ridge. “Then by all means scout. Add some wisdom to the eager young sparks, why don’t you?”

“I will! Uh…well, Hashtag. You did great with utilizing your environment, but you could also try and transform your wheels away for quick stops to increase your sharp agility options when changing directions.” Surprisingly insightful.

“Ooooh, gotcha!”

Then came Nightshade. They were the first to actually retaliate against the incoming balloons with their own projectiles. They took a far more methodical approach by hiding behind the stacks of hay, and requiring Starscream to maneuver overhead on his thrusters to follow them. By the end, they got hit twice, and the third shot at the same time they had hit the last target in their alt mode. They landed, transformed back and shook off the water with a smile. 

“Well that was invigorating! It is unfortunate I could not avoid that pesky balloon at the end.”

“There’s a moment of lag when you are readying that final attack of yours with your alt mode’s wings. It leaves you far too exposed if you aren’t careful about it.”

“Yes–” Bumblebee interjected with a raised digit– “that’s true, but using your offensive tools defensively is very smart Nightshade! And I’m sure we could work on that move of yours in the future by taking inspiration from Twitch and how she can flip and fire at the same time! We can always learn from each other's tactics while on the sidelines.”

The game continued through the rest of the Maltos kids. They were all actually quite impressive with their varying styles. Although he had to scold Jawbreaker regarding the validity of eating the water balloon as a response to an incoming attack. That wouldn’t save him against real blaster fire or a missile. The fact that the dinobot had argued simply that it wasn’t, only proved that this method of training wouldn’t teach them the true seriousness surrounding the lesson. Even so, Starscream could admit that this version of events was far more fun. The atmosphere was calm. There was no looming threat of a trip to the medbay. Only the prospect of reward for doing one’s best. 

It all seemed very juvenile. All the same, he enjoyed toying with Bumblebee, giving the Terrans little notes of advice, and watching them light up at the silly prizes they won. Hashtag even asked to run the course a second time to improve her score. Starscream revelled in the fact that he could see her little bouts of improvement. As well as the fact that she listened to any critics he gave her. Starscream even showed Nightshade and Twitch how to rapidly change direction in the air. A tactic of which a couple of the other Terrans attempted to mimic from the ground.

Such moments of peace and comradery were fleeting. Yet still something he was determined to cherish in these strange times. He’d never spout such nonsense aloud, mind you. But it was true all the same. 

He could focus on detailing aerial maneuvers, and sharp shooting a moving target. Focus on the decisive wind through his wings, and the rocks beneath his peds. The vast sky overhead, with a single, small moon barely visible in the blue sky. 

He didn’t want to think about anything else.

[dilfismz]

Playing Dangerous Part 5

Summary: A small group is formed and assumptions are thrown at you and Sangwoo…do you seriously look like a couple to others?

Pairing: Cho Sangwoo X reader. Eventual Hwang In-ho X reader.

Warnings: None :)

Previous l Next

The dorm was shifting.

Not just physically—though the number of empty beds was a glaring reminder of how many people had been lost—but in atmosphere. The air was thick with something more than just fear now. Strategy. Calculation. The beginning of something dangerous.

People were forming alliances. Small clusters of players huddled in corners, speaking in hushed voices, sizing each other up. The loners, those who still thought they could survive on their own, sat apart, but even they were more alert now, glancing around as if realizing too late that being alone in here might not be an advantage.

You, however- were already a part of something.

It had happened naturally, unspoken but undeniable—Gi-hun, Sangwoo, and yourself. You had gravitated toward each other, moving in sync, sharing meals, watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t an official alliance, but it was something.

And now, it was growing.

Ali Abdul approached you hesitantly, his food clutched in his hands, his wide, earnest eyes flicking between them. “Excuse me,” he said politely, his Korean slightly accented but clear. “May I sit with you?”

Gi-hun grinned and immediately scooted over, patting the empty space beside him. “Of course, of course. The more, the merrier.”

Ali looked relieved, settling down at the table with them. You gave him a quick once-over, not in suspicion, but in curiosity. He had a rare sincerity about him, something untainted by the desperation that had already begun to show in others.

Sangwoo, however, was harder to read. His expression remained carefully neutral, his gaze assessing but not outright dismissive. He wasn’t the type to extend trust easily, but he didn’t object either.

That, in itself, was as close to approval as someone like him would give.

Then, another voice spoke up.

“I should sit too, huh?”

The old man—player 001—smiled as he slowly lowered himself onto the bench beside Ali.

“Oh yes,” Gi-hun agreed, smiling back. “Of course. We gotta stick together, right?”

The old man gave a raspy chuckle, nodding. “That’s right.”

And just like that, you were five.

The meal was quiet at first, more focused on eating than talking. But eventually, as the tension eased just slightly, Ali looked between you and Sangwoo, tilting his head in thought.

“So…” he began, curiosity evident in his tone. “Are you two a couple?”

You almost choked on your food.

Sangwoo’s entire body stiffened. His chopsticks paused mid-air before he slowly—very deliberately—set them down.

Gi-hun, the menace that he was, made a choking sound that was definitely not a cough and bit back a grin.

You swallowed hard, quickly composing yourself. “What?”

Ali blinked, clearly not expecting such a strong reaction. “I just assumed,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re always together, and during the last game, I noticed—”

“We’re not a couple.”

Sangwoo’s voice cut through Ali’s words like a knife. Sharp. Firm. Immediate.

Ali held up his hands in surrender, looking sheepish. “Ah, my mistake.”

You, on the other hand, turned to Sangwoo, narrowing your eyes in amusement. You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Oh?” You murmured, a teasing lilt to your tone. “Didn’t know you were so against the idea.”

Sangwoo’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. His fingers twitched against the table, but he didn’t look at you. He just picked his chopsticks back up, resuming his meal as if he hadn’t heard you.

But he had.

You could feel that he had.

Gi-hun, oblivious to their quiet exchange, snorted. “I mean… I can kinda see why Ali thought that.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Not you too.”

001 chuckled. “Young love, huh?”

Sangwoo let out a slow, measured exhale, as if he were forcibly restraining himself from reacting.

Ali, eager to move past his mistake, cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So… why are you all here?”

Gi-hun sighed, leaning back. “Ah, you know. The usual. Debt.”

Ali nodded in understanding, but his gaze lingered on you, “And you?”

You hesitated for only a second before shrugging, “Following a lead.”

Ali frowned, “A lead?”

You took a bite of food, chewing slowly before answering. “I was hired to investigate someone. They got an invitation to this game, and I… borrowed it.”

Ali blinked, processing that. “So you’re not—”

“In debt?” You smirked. “No. I made a mistake showing up here, but now that I’m in, I’m staying.”

Ali looked impressed. “That’s… incredibly brave.”

“Or stupid,” Sangwoo muttered under his breath.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “What was that?”

He didn’t look at you, “Nothing.”

But you caught the way his fingers drummed against the table, the subtle flicker of something in his expression—something that almost looked like concern.

Gi-hun stretched, sighing. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I think we made the right call sticking together. This place is gonna get worse before it gets better.”

The old man nodded sagely. “Survival is all about numbers.”

Sangwoo didn’t say anything, but he didn’t argue either.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching as he finally picked up his water and took a slow sip. His shoulders were still a little tense.

Maybe you had gotten under his skin after all.

Good.

Taglist: @indifitel6661

[katerinaaqu]

Is there any mention of Eurylochus's status/class in The Iliad or The Odyssey? I have seen people say he's a Prince of Same, others say he's nobility, but not royalty. I imagine he had to be at least of a considerably high status to marry Ctimene

He definitely is upper class you are right, since he also acts as Odysseus's second in command. That should happen only if he belonged to nobility. However ironically the Odyssey never mentions him AS CLEARLY as people think to be Ctimene's husband (for example he never is mentioned as "Ctimene's husband" or the Odyssey say "then she got married to Eurylochus"). On Ctimene we have only one mention by swine herd Eumeus that she married off to Same for a large dowry without mentioning the name of her husband. However there is one moment in the Odyssey that seems to be revealing the identity of her husband as Eurylochus;

In the Rhapsody 10 Odysseus comes back to his men after he came in a deal with Circe but the only one unimpressed and scared still is Eurylochus. Not only does he speak up and says that if they go Circe will transform them into animals to do her bidding perforce and then he cusses at Odysseus calling him reckless and blames him for everything. Odysseus is furious. He draws his sword and is ready to kill him for his words of insolence and the phrase Homer sneaks in is this;

Even if he was my kin by marriage (brother-in-law)

(Translation by me)

The word πηός basically means "kin by marriage" or more simply "brother-in-law" According to mythology we do not know any other sister Odysseus had apart from Ctimene and neither does Homer imply that more children were born out of the marriage of Laertes with Anticlea. So the husband of Ctimene must have been Eurylochus. And once again the marriage wouldn't logically be possible unless Eurylochus were of high status.

So if someone makes a small sum-up, Eurylochus is Odysseus's brother in law (therefore high status at least of nobility) and so logically speaking married to his only sister Ctimene who as we know from Eumeus's story was married off to Same (so Eurylochus was from Same) in exchange of a large dowry (so we also assume that Eurylochus was pretty wealthy himself in order to afford that)

Now the true limits between nobility and royalty are pretty vague in Homer to begin with and for the kingdom of Cephallinians in particular it seems even more vague than normal. We have for instance each of the suitors being more or less autonomous in the poem and even the generals at the fleet of Odysseus seem to have enough autonomy to defy orders from Odysseus or ignore his warnings and all. So it seems that the leadership of the Cephallinians is not so tight to begin with and most likely every one of the individual parts of the kingdom has some sort of semi-autonomy or at least handling up to one point their own wealth.

That being said though, it seems that Eurylochus doesn't have the command of his own ship or part of the fleet and acts as second in command directly under Odysseus's orders. That of course is partially because Odysseus is their king and has more authority and responsibility over them but maybe is also the explanation that he is noble and not directly linked to kingly power of any sort apart from his marriage to the king's sister.

But as I said the term "prince" "king" or "noble" are pretty modern explanations of the homeric greek terms such as "wanax" which is used both for "king" and "prince" interchangeably and basically calls for someone with high authority. So if I take a guess even if you call Eurylochus "a prince" or "a noble" is pretty much the same thing. We talk about someone definitely of the upper class with his own personal wealth, related to the Throne by marriage but apart from that he lives under command of the king like everyone else to the kingdom of Cephallinians while maintaining a certain level of semi-autonomy. Just like the suitors of Penelope or, daresay, the commanders at the fleet of Odysseus.

I hope this helps! 🙏 😊

[melodyreads]

Our Little Secret

You and Hamzah are in a secret relationship. While you guys kept each other a secret to protect one another, was it really what you both wanted?

Contains: fem reader, angst, confused reader, lack of communication, arguing, happy ending <3

a/n: I appreciate all the love I've received for my most recent works. Hope you guys enjoy this one, it's definitely my best yet.

---

From an outside perspective, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this situation. Just two couples out on a double date. Me, Mandy, Martin, and Hamzah grabbing dinner at our usual pizza spot. Nothing suspicious. Nothing complicated. Just friends catching up.

Mandy waved kindly as she saw me approach their group. Martin stood next to her seemingly making a joke to Hamzah as he stood there with his hands in his pockets wearing a neutral expression on his face. That was, until he saw me arrive.

A familiar feeling of excitement filled my stomach at the look on Hamzah’s face. I ran up to him and greeted him with a kiss as I met with our group. He would smile down at me as his left hand placed itself in my back jean pocket.

Except, of course, Martin and Mandy were the only couple actually together. 

I guess you could say me and Hamzah were together too. We basically lived at each other's apartments, always leaving clothes in each other's space. I would wake up to Hamzah’s messy curls aghast on the pillow next to mine. I would plant his face with kisses as he grabbed my waist and pulled me on top of him.  

We were together, but in a, “we don’t want to put a label on it” kind of way. No commitments, no pressure—just what we wanted.

I wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

For me, it was about not wanting anything serious right now. I wanted to protect my relationship with Hamzah, what we had was different than anything I had experienced with boyfriends in the past. For Hamzah, it was more to do with his online image— he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with their fans' inevitable perceptions of you if you two were to date. I joked that he was just playing up the “I’m available” act for his followers. He would always roll his eyes but I’m sure this was part of it.

If people found out we were together, it’d ruin the whole thing. Which is why I had to be extra careful. Even around our best friends.

So imagine my horror when, halfway through dinner, Martin suddenly narrows his eyes at me.

“Hey… isn’t that Hamzah’s sweater?”

The table goes silent and my stomach drops.

I freeze with my pizza halfway to my mouth, my brain scrambling for a response. The oversized grey hoodie I’m wearing is definitely Hamzah’s— the words “nap queen” in black letters I envisioned on my chest made me want to laugh and bury my head in my hands at the same time. I didn’t even think about it when I threw it on before leaving.

It even smelled like him.

I set my pizza down trying to brush it off, “Am I not allowed to wear your guys merch anymore? Y’all should be grateful.” I say acting offended.

Mandy’s eyes flick between me and Hamzah, who—thank god—keeps his expression cool, shoveling food into his mouth as he nodded his head at my response..

Martin, however, is still staring. “I swear that one is yours though, isn’t it Hamzah? It has the exact same material as the one you wear. ”

I let out a short laugh, trying to play it off. “I’m not sure why because this one is mine.”

I didn’t even know them at the time they sold this hoodie on their website.

“It looks exactly like Hamzah’s,” Martin insists. He turns to Mandy. “Doesn’t it?”

Mandy shrugs, sipping her drink. “A lot of those hoodies look the same.”

Hamzah finally speaks, his voice casual but just a little too fast. “Yeah, man, it’s just a hoodie. You think I own every “nap queen” hoodie in existence?”

Martin still looks unconvinced, but he lets it go, turning his attention back to his food. My entire body is tense, and across the table, I can feel Hamzah suppressing a smirk.

Under the table, his finger interlocks with mine, a slow, deliberate touch that sends a jolt up my spine. I flick my eyes toward him, and there’s something smug in his gaze—something knowing.

I roll my eyes at him, trying to ignore the way my face feels hot.

That was too close.

But the truth is, I kind of love the risk. I love the way we sneak glances at each other when no one’s looking, the way my body reacts when he’s just close enough to touch but doesn’t. I love the late nights, the whispered conversations, the fact that we’re both holding onto something we’re pretending we don’t want to name.

God I wanted him bad.

---

The party was loud—too loud. Music pulsed through the walls, and the mix of voices, laughter, and the occasional clatter of a drink being set down filled the air. Mandy and Martin were off in their own little world, and I had lost track of most people in the crowd.

Hamzah settled next to me "How're you doing?" he asked, leaning down to meet my ears while looking out into the sea of people.

I sighed in response, "Alright, I guess..." I snapped my head to meet Hamzah's dark eyes, "...Can we go home soon?" I asked sticking out my bottom lip. He chuckled before leaning down once more.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice just low enough for only me to hear.

I barely had time to react before his fingers brushed against my wrist—just a ghost of a touch, but enough to send a jolt through me. Before I knew it, I was being pulled down the hall, away from the noise, away from prying eyes.

He didn’t stop until we were inside an empty room, the door clicking shut behind us. The sudden quiet made my pulse hammer in my ears.

"Wait, what if someone sees?" I whispered, even though I was far too gone to start moving away from him.

Hamzah exhaled, leaning back against the door with a sly look covering his face. His eyes were dark, and the dim lighting cast sharp shadows on his face. "I don't care," he said.

That was a lie. He did care. We both did. That was the whole reason we were keeping this secret.

And yet… here we were.

The tension thickened in the air between us, something unspoken crackling like a wire about to snap. Hamzah's jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his sides before he finally gave in, stepping closer.

I barely had time to breathe before his hands cupped my face, his touch gentle despite the desperation in his eyes. This was the last look I could register before his lips were on mine.

A slow, deep kiss started, stealing the air from my lungs, and making my heart stutter.

I wanted this. God, I wanted this.

But before I could get too carried away, I thought of where we could have been. Kissing in the middle of a crowd, unwavering concerns about what others around us thought. His hand in mine not hidden beneath a table, but revealed proudly.

The weight of it—the secret, the hiding, the way we only allowed ourselves these moments in the dark—it was all too much.

A sharp pang in my chest pulled me back to reality. Before I could stop myself, I tore away, my breath ragged.

“Hamzah, I—” My voice broke, my hands shaking as I stepped back. “I can’t keep doing this.”

His brows furrowed, his hands hovering in the empty space between us like he wanted to pull me back but knew he shouldn’t. “What do you mean... what's wrong?”

I forced a swallow, blinking hard. “Being with you in secret... it just hurts too much.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but the way Hamzah flinched made it clear he heard every word.

His lips parted, like he was about to say something, but I couldn’t stand there and let him try to fix it with more whispered reassurances, more stolen touches that would only leave me aching for something real.

Before he could even get a word out, I was already out the door.

I pushed past the crowd, the music and chatter barely registering. My chest was tight, my pulse racing. I needed air.

I needed to get out of here.

The cold night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it didn't stop me. As I started to come to terms with what just happened, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill. I sucked in a sharp breath, hugging my arms around myself, trying to shake the feeling of Hamzah’s hands still lingering on my skin.

Then, I heard determined footsteps tracking behind me.

“Wait.”

Hamzah’s voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to turn around. But then his hand caught mine, stopping me in my tracks.

I exhaled shakily as he moved in front of me, his brows furrowed, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. Whatever it was caused your whole body to shudder.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” he said, his voice rough, his grip tightening just slightly, “Not if it means losing you.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. “What about your whole ‘single guy’ thing? What about—”

“Screw all that,” he cut me off, shaking his head. “None of it matters if it means I can’t be with you. I don’t care who knows.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of me.

I searched his face, looking for hesitation, for doubt. But there was none. Just him—bare, vulnerable, real.

A shaky laugh left my lips, part disbelief, part relief. “Are you sure about this?”

Hamzah let out a soft chuckle, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face before resting gently against my cheek. “Yeah, I mean it.” His thumb traced my skin, slow and reverent. “I want you. For real.”

I didn’t need any more convincing.

This time, when I reached out and kissed him, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. About who was watching or who would care. What came next and what the future held.

From now on, we came first.

---

a/n: Hope you'll enjoyed this!!!!! It's so hard to end stories, but I think I'm getting better at it lol. Lmk if you guys want a part two????????

[soundwaveissuperior]

Okay so I'm been having this shit brewing in my head for a while and I keep coming back to it. I want to be like G1 but also a mix of other continuities as well Like TF Prime, TF One, Etc.

This is my shitty writing, I'm sorry if it's bad I just want to put it out there. If you have any ideas of what I should call this au please comment.

So Imagine this, we know that Megatron is like the leader of the decepticons right? He’s the founder so just like what if Orion becomes the leader of the decepticons instead?? Hey, it is a thought. I'm not saying he is the founder. Like how the normal story goes Orion pax the archivist meets Megatronus the gladiator, they talk about ideas and the future, Megatronous constructs the Decepticons, Orion joins him. ( I always liked the thought that Orion was one of the first decepticons of Megs group before becoming prime.)

They have two different perspectives. Orion thinks that they can peacefully have an audience with the Council/Senate (idk which one to use.) to take down and rebuild this terrible system they live by while Megatronous on the other hand thinks that they won’t listen to words and only by action (VIOLENCE!! ETC.) Btw of course this is an OpMeg so yeah they are together, there so trusting in one another and collaborate so well. Big Gladiator Mech and Lil Archivist bot

So to make this hurt, Orion was able to get an audience with the Council/Senate by the help of Sentinel “Prime”. And after convincing Megs to go see them to present his dream to dismantling the oppressive caste system. But of course the Naive Orion didn’t know that the Council/senate was using him to lure the Leader of the decepticons into a trap. They didn’t want him to spread anymore of these ‘ideas’.

(I want sentinel to be a part of this cuz I love and hate that bastard.)

Orion comes with Megatronus to speak with the senate and Sentinel.

(Okay so I'm still having Orion become prime but not like how the Senate will make him prime. Sentinel Took the matrix for himself but the Matrix doesn’t respond to him, so it is just a piece of junk without a Worthy Mech to attune to it. He still uses it as a way for publicity, it's not like citizens really knows how the Matrix works anyways.)

Orion is standing next to him as he backs up Megatronus words as he explains to them.

After this the Senate mocks him, Sentinel Truly explains to them why Lower caste should stay below them. They are born to serve the superior and die when useless, it is their Primus given purpose. Orion interrupts the Sentinel as he is shocked and angry at his words, “any bot can be more than what they're supposedly ‘born to do’.”

He uses Megatronus as an example, how he became more than a Miner, a Gladiator, he learned how to read and write, wrote literature that moved people, that anyone is the same at spark no matter their frame type. In a quick swift movement Sentinel who had enough of the words of this archivist went to silence him.

As he grabs him by the throat and throws him across the room. Megatronous tried to stop him but was then restrained by Guards. Sentinel tells them both how stupid they are. That what he says is right, that he is a prime and there not and the people will listen to him and not some nobodies. ( Basically Nuh uh Im prime so i get to do what ever da fuck i want , you poor ass bitches)(dude not even a fucken prime like brother shut the fuck up)

Orion coughs as he slowly rises up from the ground. He wobbles a bit before speaking. “You may be a prime but I won’t let you mock him or put anyone beneath you anymore. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. They are more than their function!” As he finishes that statement a low rumbling sound emits from Sentinel's chest and a low blue glow seeps out. The Matrix recognizes a worthy mech to attune to.

Sentinel baffles tires to keep the relic inside as he panics. The relic bursts out his chest as it makes its way towards Orion. He grits his teeths in pain as he orders the guards to terminate him to keep him from getting the relic. Shots fire as Orion tries to run, the Matrix stops and floats waiting for its chosen welder to claim it.

His left arm is shot off his body and he takes a hit at his knee. Orion cries out for Megatronous as he falls to the ground again. Megatronous finally gets out of the guard's hold, tearing them apart and runs towards him. Sentinel huffs in pain as he slowly walks towards Orion who is crawling pathetically to the Matrix.

With a blaster ready he points it towards the crawling mech. “ why couldn't you be a good lil mech just stay ignorant”. As he fires Megatronous throws Sentinel taking the shot. Orion shouted in horror. Megatronus collapses as smoke emits out a gaping hole near his spark.

He bleeds heavily as Orion crawls towards his injured beloved. A large servo goes up to cradle his face “ Please, don’t leave, I can't lose you!” Orion begs. Megatronous wipes his tears as he speaks “Do not cry my little one, I will not leave you. I will always be with you my spark”. Megatronous gives him one last kiss as his frame slowly grays. “ No Nononononono, no please my champion please” he cries.

Yeah again this is just an idea of how Megatronus is going to die, I might change it, who knows. So then Orion filled with resentment towards Sentinel. Like how D-16 became Megatron due anger building up inside as he was lied to slave away his entire life, for Orion it is more of him believing in something, that there is good in people and no need to lean towards violence but to be betrayed by the system that he relied on, he experience a violation of trust. Especially when the person he idolizes hurts the ones he loves. Pretty much breaks you and how you see the world around you.

I want Orion to feel terrible, just terrible, to blame himself (which isn’t new) for the death of his beloved champion, for killing the mech that people look up to, the mech that people put their faith in, the one who united everyone to strive for more.

After Megatronous dies, he takes the Matrix and feels a sense of duty to fulfill their dream as he feels the need to redeem himself. Then he'll step up and take the role as the leader of the decepticons, he believes he needs to bear this responsibility all to himself, to punish himself for his actions for leading him to his death due to his naivety.

If you have any questions don't be afraid to send an ask, I can elaborate if you like.

[yanderes-galore]

3/13

Micah bell with the prompts V-2, O-2 by writeformesinpie

-🧨

Bro's mad that watching you sleep isn't considered 'romantic' 💀. I'm so sorry the plot near the end got rushed. Been an anxious week so I have been struggling to write. Still trying though.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Micah Bell Prompts V-2 + O-2

"I like you best when you’re sleeping."

"So it's a little crush when you fawn over him but it's an obsession when I pay attention to you?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Harassment/Assault, Jealousy, Micah mentions he watches you while you sleep, Micah's a creep obviously, Violence, Threats, Attempted forced 'relationship' implied.

You didn't trust Micah. While Dutch always told you that Micah is valuable to the gang, you never believed it. Micah's a creep, always has been far as you're concerned.

Micah always made it a goal to pester any member who would listen. Hell, even if they didn't listen. You just happened to be his favorite.

Micah seemed to be fond of you, all while you hated his guts. Some folks around camp even commented on him being 'sweet on you'. The thought is vile to you.

You're not interested in Micah. No matter how many times he makes comments or crude remarks, it just makes you disgusted. No, you already had your sights on another.

Micah knew this.

Oh, Micah hates that you adore someone else. Here he was infatuated with you, to the point you were all that was on his mind at times. Yet of course you don't reciprocate.

You think he's disgusting, he's unbothered about that...

But he is pissed that another man has your heart.

Sure, many say he doesn't deserve you. You should have your own choice on who you get to be with. You don't belong to anyone...

Yet when was Micah ever that respectful?

"Darlin'... I think we need to have a little chat."

Your body tenses when you hear that familiar drawl behind you. You drop what you're doing reluctantly as Micah shuffles up behind you. You hated him... but you knew he didn't plan on leaving you alone.

"What is it, Micah? Why have you come to grace me with your presence?" Your tone is dripping with sarcasm, which makes Micah chuckle just a little bit.

"Y'know you're pining for the wrong man, right?" Micah hums, making you immediately realize where this is going.

"Who I fancy shouldn't concern you." You state bitterly, causing Micah to scoff.

"The cowpoke doesn't even pay attention to you, darlin'." Micah sneers, leaning on the table beside you. "Seriously, you're looking at a man who doesn't look at you, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that..." You warn, Micah seeming to pay you no mind as he shifts closer.

"Do you even see yourself, sweetheart?" You swear he's doing it on purpose now, close to leaning on you while he speaks. "You follow him around like a lost puppy. You listen to his every word like it's gospel..."

Micah grumbles, pressing his chest against your back as he holds your hips. You immediately feel revolted when he leans down to your ear.

"You really need a man who can look at you the same way... one who wants you. One who watches over you even when you're unaware..."

You feel him kiss the shell of your ear.

"I like you best when you’re sleeping... You fight me a lot less then."

You whip around to slap Micah. The man makes a disgruntled noise and backs up enough for you to make some distance. You glare at him, seeing a look of irritation in his eyes.

"You pervert!" You growl, not taking your eyes off Micah for a second. The man just feels his cheek... before laughing in disbelief.

"Oh, sweetheart... getting all feisty over a bit of affection, eh?" Micah laughs before his mood begins to sour. "I bet you'd let him do that to you though, huh?"

"My preference means nothing in this scenario! You watch me while I sleep and do God knows what!" You accuse Micah sneering. "You have an obsession and won't leave me alone!"

"So it's a little passing fancy when you fawn over him but it's an obsession when I pay attention to you?" Micah growls, clearly frustrated you keep turning him down. "Darlin'... You drive me damn crazy."

"You are crazy!" You spit, making Micah chuckle.

"Crazy? Of course I am, sweetheart. Crazy enough to get rid of that fool, too." Micah grins, stalking closer. "I should just kill him, know that? Then you'd have you eyes on me...."

"I'd never love you...." You try to stay brave, but every move he makes puts you on edge.

"Oh, darlin'... I just love it when you play hard to get!" Micah purrs.

You attempt to pull your pistol on him, but Micah's quick to tackle you. You struggle with the man on top of you, Micah merely laughing in response.

"Sweetheart I'd enjoy this a lot more if we were in a more... intimate setting...." Micah teases, but it only makes you fight harder.

Eventually other camp members see the commotion and step in. Even the man you fancied tore Micah off you to pull you closer. You're shaking, tense, while your crush comforts you gently.

"Oh, look at you!" Micah spits, held back by one of the other men in the group. "You'll run into his arms because you love him, do ya!? Well, darlin'! He's NOTHING compared to me, honey!"

It isn't long before Micah is essentially silenced and dragged back away from you. You blankly watch as the man who has been watching your every move is put under watch by Dutch. Even with him out of the way for now...

You can't forget what he said, right?

Micah's admitted to watching you sleep... He even tried to force you into being with him... What if he continues...?

You cling to the man comforting you, trying your best to ignore the obvious problem...

Ignoring it won't make Micah go away... You tighten your hold quietly...

How will you sleep at night knowing he's just a few paces away?

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

previous | story masterlist | next

Lately, Naoya has been following Toji around just about every chance he gets. 

There are multiple reasons for this. One of them, of course, is the fact that he idolizes Toji and recognizes his strength. It’s true that, conventionally speaking, Toji doesn’t fit the mold for what a jujutsu sorcerer is supposed to be like. He doesn’t have even a smidge of cursed energy. On paper, he should be the weakest, and yet, he’s not. The entirety of the Zen’in Clan may refuse to acknowledge just how powerful he is, but Naoya instinctively knows better. There’s no denying the pressure he felt that day, upon his very first meeting with Toji. It’s the kind of pressure that only surrounds those who are truly strong. 

But it’s more than just that. If that was the only reason, he probably wouldn’t be trailing behind Toji like a little duckling, near constantly. He admires Toji, and that will never change, but these days, there's someone else on his mind. 

You.

“Are you leaving to go train [Name]?” 

That’s the question Naoya finds himself asking time and time again. Whenever he spots Toji leaving the clan estate, he runs up to him in a hurry, although he’s not quite sure why. He doesn’t really understand why he cares so much. It’s none of his business, after all. Toji has permission to train you. Even Naobito said he wasn’t going to stand in the way. Yet still, Naoya persists. 

“You always ask me that,” Toji mutters, rolling his eyes. “Go away. Shoo.” 

“Is that a yes or a no?” 

“It’s me telling you to get lost.”

Naoya never really succeeds with any of his approaches, but rather than letting it deter him, he just keeps pressing the issue. 

“How was training today?” 

“Is [Name] getting stronger?” 

“She hasn’t given up or anything, has she?” 

“Isn’t she worried that she might mess up by accident? Then, because of her Binding Vow, that means she’ll—” 

“For fuck’s sake, enough already!” Toji cries out. He grits his teeth and angrily massages his temples, attempting to soothe the permanent migraine he seems to have these days. Spending time with you is one thing, but he has much less patience when it comes to a brat from the Zen’in Clan.

Naoya’s brows droop, and he feels discouraged for a moment, but if he backs down now, he may as well be giving up. He refuses to give up. That’s what losers do, and he’s certainly not a loser. 

“I want to come with you,” Naoya states, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“Where?” 

“To see [Name]. You’re about to leave, aren’t you? I’m coming too.”

“Good one,” Toji snorts, but for some reason, the little brat still refuses to leave. Toji’s brows knit together. “Don’t tell me you’re actually serious?”

Naoya nods, gaze resolute. “Yes. I’ve made up my mind.”

“I doubt anyone will let you do that.” 

“So, I’ll just sneak out. By the time they realize, I’ll already be gone.”

Toji doesn’t particularly care for Naoya, or anyone else in the Zen’in Clan, for that matter. The first person he’s genuinely cared about is you. And he supposes he tolerates Satoru, but that’s about it. As far as he’s concerned, everyone else is irrelevant. 

That being said, if there’s a chance to piss off the Zen’in Clan, he definitely won’t pass it up. 

“Fine,” Toji chuckles. “This should be fun. I’m sure they’ll throw a fit when they can’t find you. It’s a shame I won’t be able to see it happen, though.” 

Naoya’s face lights up. Defying his family has never really crossed his mind. Up until now, he didn’t have much of a reason to. He’s used to being praised, having his ego fueled endlessly. But ever since he met you, he’s starting to tire of it. It’s not really that fun anymore. Rather than being acknowledged by the Zen’in Clan, he wants to be acknowledged by you. 

He’s going to make sure you realize just how strong and cool he is. 

And so, for the first time in his life, Naoya sneaks out of the clan estate. Despite his boastful nature, he’s still just a little kid, and it kind of feels like an adventure, going to visit places he’s never seen before. He also gets to spend time with Toji this way, and even though Toji mostly ignores him, Naoya feels happier than ever. 

“...huh? What’s he doing here?” 

Naoya finally finds himself face to face with you again. Several months have passed since the first time you met. He’s embarrassed to admit that he’s been thinking of you practically every single day. It’s seriously not his fault, though! You’re just so… strange. If you weren’t this strange, he would surely have forgotten about you already. For better or worse, you left a big impression. You’re the reason he’s been thinking about things so differently than before. 

“Um, hi,” Naoya greets. For some reason, he feels rather shy all of a sudden. He even tries to hide behind Toji’s back, but the dark-haired man just scowls before pushing him aside. 

“You’re the kid who insulted [Name],” Satoru remarks coldly. 

“It’s okay,” you dismiss. “I’m used to being insulted. Plus, you insult me all the time, Satoru.” 

“Yeah, but I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that!”

Gojo Satoru is here again. Naoya is starting to realize that you and Satoru are very close friends. He seems to act awfully defensive whenever you’re involved. Naoya gets the feeling that Satoru already doesn’t like him very much. 

“Ignore him. Hi, Naoya,” you say, smiling brightly. “I wasn’t expecting you to join us today. Is it okay for you to be here? Your dad really doesn’t mind?” 

Your smile is reassuring, admittedly. Part of him was worried you’d get mad that he showed up out of nowhere, but clearly, that’s not the case. You don’t really seem like the type to get upset easily, now that he thinks about it. You didn’t even flinch when he insulted you before, and not only that, but you went out of your way to heal him, too.

Jujutsu sorcerers are a lot of things, but based on his experience, they’re usually not this nice. 

He likes it. 

“My dad doesn’t know I’m here,” Naoya says. “I snuck out.” 

“Uh-oh. You’re not going to get in trouble, are you?” 

You stare at him, visibly concerned, and Naoya has to bite down on his lip to hide how happy he is that you’re worried about him. 

“I’ll be okay,” he reassures. “I’m going to be the leader of the clan one day! They’re probably just wondering where I am, but they won’t get upset with me. I’m way too important.”

“Doubt it,” Satoru snorts. 

“I am! Just ask anyone!” 

“I don’t need to ask. It’s obvious just by looking at you.” 

Naoya’s face reddens, and he balls his hands into small, trembling fists. He may be Gojo Satoru, but that doesn’t give him the right to be so mean. He’s clearly arrogant and spoiled. All of the power and prestige has gone straight to his head. 

It’s unbelievably ironic that Zen’in Naoya, of all people, is having these thoughts, but at least he’s starting to recognize right from wrong. Baby steps.

“Satoru, don’t be rude,” you reprimand, and Naoya grins, delighted that you’re taking his side.

“Yeah, don’t be rude,” Naoya eagerly piles on. “You’re hurting my feelings.” 

Satoru narrows his eyes. Much like Naoya, he can also tell that this will be the start of a bitter, long-lived rivalry. Ugh. As if he didn’t already have enough to deal with. Now he has to worry about some annoying little kid (note: only one year younger than him) trying to steal his best friend. You’ll seriously be the death of him at this rate.  

Meanwhile, Toji finds himself wondering when the hell he became everyone’s goddamn babysitter.

“I’ve gotten stronger since you last saw me,” Naoya proudly states. “I’m getting better and better at using my cursed technique. What about you? Have you made progress with your training?” 

“I’m doing my best,” you beam. 

“Um. That doesn’t really answer my question.” 

“She did answer your question,” Toji frowns. “She said she’s doing her best.”

“Yeah, she’s doing her best, dammit,” Satoru glares. “What more do you want from her?” 

Naoya is starting to think that it might have been a mistake to get involved with his particular trio. 

“Since you’re here, it’d be a waste to train,” you say. “We can just hang out instead! I’m not sure when we’ll get to see each other again, after all. What do you like to do for fun, Naoya? Oh! But before that, let’s eat. I packed yummy lunches for everyone.” 

Satoru and Toji immediately scrunch up their noses in visible disgust. Naoya frowns, watching as you unpack the bento boxes you brought along. Even though nobody ever eats your food, you still foolishly hold out hope that one day, they’ll come around to your self-proclaimed culinary genius. 

“Unless you want to cross over to the other side, you’d be better off never eating a single thing she cooks,” Satoru says. 

“Shut up, Satoru! Don’t lie to him!” You angrily slam a bento box down in front of Naoya, then you open it up to reveal what honestly looks like really, really good food. 

“Why?” Naoya frowns. “What’s so bad about it?” 

“Appearances are deceiving. She makes the food look good, but the second you taste it, it’ll feel like your soul is being ripped from your body.” 

Toji nods in agreement. “He’s not exaggerating.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” you huff. “I make amazing food. Some people are just afraid to experiment. Some super lame, super boring people. Hint: their names are Satoru and Toji.” 

“Plus everyone else in the world with working taste buds,” Satoru muses. 

“Oh my god, shut up, Satoru!” 

You shoot Satoru another glare before shoving a big helping of the bento box’s contents into your mouth. It definitely doesn’t look like you’re forcing yourself to eat any of it. You happily chow down, and your frustration is quick to dissolve the more food you eat. You seem like you’re actually enjoying yourself. Really, how bad can it be?

“Wow, he’s actually going for it.”

“And we even warned him. What an idiot.” 

Naoya ignores the peanut gallery while he takes a small, tentative first bite. He’s positive they’re exaggerating. Nothing could possibly taste that horrible—

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no. 

It’s worse than horrible. It’s downright atrocious. 

The food is so disgusting that he nearly ascends to the skies, but through sheer force of will, he somehow remains tethered to reality. He needs to spit it out. His entire body is practically screaming at him to get rid of the unwelcome intrusion.  

But then he locks eyes with you, as you stare at him, gaze wide, bright, and hopeful.

Defying all odds, Naoya swallows what’s in his mouth, takes a moment to compose himself, then strains a smile.

“I-It’s really not that bad,” he replies weakly. “It’s actually… pretty good.”

“What?!” 

Satoru and Toji are the ones that just cried out. They’re convinced they must have heard wrong, but Naoya doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s much more focused on your expression.

And right now, you look like you’re happy enough to burst into tears.

“Wow, really? Yay! Finally, I’ve found someone who recognizes my talent!” you gush, shaking your fists in a fit of excitement. “I told you guys my cooking was good! You just didn’t know any better. Naoya is smarter than both of you, clearly.” 

You grin ear-to-ear, and without warning, you pull him into your arms and give him a big hug. Naoya immediately freezes, turning red from head to toe. His heart is beating so fast that he can hear it echoing in his eardrums, and even though Satoru cries out in protest, Naoya is too stunned to react. 

If he eats more of your food, does that mean you’ll keep hugging him like this? Because if that’s the case…

It’s worth it. 

Later that day, Naoya returns to his clan estate, and as much as Satoru would like to claim otherwise, he is important. At least, important enough for people to make a fuss over his disappearance. 

“Where in the world did you go, Naoya? You should know better than to leave without telling anyone.” 

His older brothers are all frowning at him, clearly expressing their disapproval. It’s not so much concern, but more so judgment. After all, despite being many years older than him, he’s the one who’s been chosen as the future clan leader. They must think he’s not taking it seriously, and that he ran off to play hooky or something. 

…which he kind of did, to be fair. 

Naoya considers lying, but he quickly discards the thought. If he gets caught in a lie, people will probably just get even more upset. It’s best to be as transparent as possible. Besides, he doesn’t want this to be the last time. He would like to keep seeing you. He would like that very much. 

“I met up with that girl that visited a while ago, [Name],” Naoya states. 

They all look shocked. He’s not quite sure what they were expecting, but it obviously wasn’t that. You may not be a Gojo by blood, but you’re affiliated with the clan nevertheless. The Zen’in Clan and Gojo Clan are forever at odds with one another. He basically just admitted to fraternizing with the enemy. But it’s not his fault the enemy is so freaking cute. 

“Did you hear that, father?” one of his older brothers frowns, turning towards Naobito, who’s drinking as per usual—from his trademark gourd, this time. 

“Which girl?” Naobito asks with obvious disinterest. 

“The one that you invited before. She showed up along with Gojo Satoru. You know, the same girl that Toji’s been training.” 

“Oh, right.” Naobito takes another swig from his gourd. “I’d completely forgotten about her. She’s the one with the Binding Vow. She had to gamble with her own life, and even then, she’s still a weakling.” 

Naoya’s brow twitches. His father is kind of getting on his nerves right now. Why won’t he admit that you’re actually a lot stronger than you appear at first glance? Hardly anyone knows how to use reverse cursed technique. The same goes for Toji. He’s so strong, and yet, everyone refuses to acknowledge him. It just doesn’t make any sense. 

Maybe the Zen’in Clan is run by a bunch of fools, after all. 

“So? Did you have fun on your little trip?” Naobito asks, visibly amused. He clearly couldn’t care any less about you. He’s not taking you seriously. It’s infuriating. 

“Yes,” Naoya replies, a glare settling upon his features. “She’s nice. I like her. I want to see her all the time from now on.” 

“Haha! How amusing.” 

“I’m not kidding, and I don’t care what you say. Whether you give me permission or not, I’m going to keep visiting her.” 

“Hm. I didn’t think you’d develop a rebellious streak so soon, but whatever,” Naobito merely shrugs. “As long as you don’t slack off on your training, how you choose to spend your time has nothing to do with me. Become strong. Nothing else matters.” 

Naoya nods enthusiastically, and his older brothers silently seethe, appalled that he can get away with virtually anything he wants. Despite being the clan leader, Naobito has always been especially laidback. Plus, he’s convinced that Naoya will lose interest soon enough. He’s only a little kid. Kids have short attention spans, and they always find something new to gush about. It’s really only a matter of time. 

Of course, even though Naobito doesn’t realize it, he’s dead wrong. 

Naoya’s fixation on you doesn’t falter, not even a little bit. He remains diligent with his training, not only so that he can become stronger, but so that he doesn’t lose the right to keep seeing you. He always thought that the greatest joy in his life was being able to demonstrate his strength and brag to everyone else, but lately, he seems to care less and less about what others think of him. He finds himself only caring about the people that matter, like you. 

“[Name], look! Look how fast I am!” 

He activates his cursed technique, and you watch as he seemingly disappears from one spot and reappears in another. It’s not actually that he disappeared. He just moved incredibly fast. It’s a technique he inherited from his father, and even though he’s only seven years old, he’s already highly proficient with it. 

“Wow,” you beam, making sure to clap your hands. “That was so cool! You’re super-duper fast, Naoya. My eyes could barely keep up with you.” 

He proudly puffs out his chest, readily basking in your praise. There’s just something about hearing the words come from your mouth that make them sound all the more meaningful. He’ll never get tired of it. It’s his favorite thing in the whole world. 

“Aren’t you curious how my cursed technique works?” Naoya asks with a smug smile. “It’s pretty complicated, but I’ll let you guess.” 

“Hm, I’m not sure. Is it something to do with frames? Within a one-second interval? Like, it lets you move really fast during that time. Maybe, like… twenty-four frames? Or something close to that.” 

Noaya’s jaw drops open, and you have to bite back the urge to giggle right in his face. It’s fun to tease him. Obviously, you already know what his cursed technique is. When it comes to this world, you know more than anyone could ever imagine.

“Th-That’s right,” Naoya blinks, absolutely dumbfounded. “How did you know? It’s the same technique my dad has, but… I definitely never told you that.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess it just seemed obvious.” 

“Whoa. You really are smart! You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met!” 

Naoya marvels at your sheer awesomeness (you really can’t blame him), and meanwhile, Satoru furrows his brows at the sight, becoming progressively more annoyed. 

“Hey, [Name],” he suddenly says. “Watch this.” 

You turn your head, and before you can even say anything, Satoru disappears from your line of sight. Again, he didn’t actually disappear, but he’s moving so fast that it makes it look that way. Unlike Naoya, however, he proceeds to zip around to even further distances, and repeatedly, without so much as breaking a sweat. 

By the time he’s done, Naoya is green with envy, and there are even small tears in his eyes. 

“There,” Satoru chuckles, sticking his nose up towards the sky, gleefully arrogant. “I’m definitely way faster than you, Naoya. It’s not even a contest. I bet it sucks to lose. It sucks, right? Tell me all about how sucky it is.” 

Naoya deflates, suddenly awash with shame. It’s not fair. He’s Gojo Satoru. Blessed from the moment of birth. Known by jujutsu sorcerers far and wide. How is he supposed to compete with that? Even though he’s strong—he really, really is—Satoru constantly makes him feel small and insignificant. Like an ant. 

Naoya sniffles, doing his very best to keep from crying, but before the tears can fall, you cup his cheek with your hand and smile. 

“Don’t be sad,” you mumble gently. “You did really well. I was super impressed. Satoru likes to brag, but just ignore him. I can tell you’re getting stronger each day. You’ll be an amazing jujutsu sorcerer. It’s obvious.” 

And there it is. With just a few, simple words of encouragement from you, all of a sudden, he’s happy as can be. It’s not just that you can heal injuries. Day after day, you’re healing his heart, too. 

Naoya doesn’t waste a second before hugging you back. He squeezes you tight, happily nestling his head in the crook of your shoulder, and he makes sure to turn towards Satoru as he does, grinning cheekily—because he just knows it drives Satoru absolutely insane. 

“I love you, [Name],” Naoya confesses, face flushed and heart pounding. “I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you. When we grow up… let’s get married. Alright?”

You blink, very much caught off guard. It’s true that thanks to your influence, Naoya has been changing for the better, but it’s still a little hard to believe. To think that a formerly misogynistic bastard could actually be this cute. You’re really out here making miracles happen. 

Well, not in Satoru’s eyes, though. To him, this is the very opposite of a miracle. In fact, it’s practically a nightmare.

“What the hell did you just say?!” 

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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[exhaustedpirate]

to make a family whole

day 8 of @bucktommyfluffebruary - surprise! Im bringing back my beloved piper from “on waking up beside you” and “fire engine red” - she’s a safe haven that post-breakup buck took care of while at the station and bonded with, bc he couldn’t take care of her he decided to pester poor joan, the social worker about piper’s well-being. let’s say his persistence bears fruits and joan was actually charmed.

rated G | 1294 words

also on AO3

“We have reservations in,” Buck checks his watch with a sigh. “Half an hour, are you ready?”

Tommy’s voice speaks over the sound of the faucet. “I just need a minute, babe, promise.”

Buck sighs. They were going to be late.

Not like they had had much luck during their previous anniversaries. Their first dating anniversary, the restaurant burned down two hours before their reservation - Buck was actually called to assist when the fire began to spread. Luckily, there had been no casualties.

For their second anniversary, Buck was planning to go all romantic comedy on Tommy. Get them both dressed up, take him to a fancy restaurant and, when they brought the desert, he’d ask a very important question. They did not count on the fire alarm being set off due to a malfunction. The whole restaurant was doused by the rogue sprinklers and they had all stood on the parking lot, drenched and cold. Thank god for his boyfriend’s warm body.

The waiter approached them while they all waited outside. He tried to be as discreet as possible but really, it wasn’t like Tommy was not gonna notice the ring.

Yeah, yeah, Buck was gonna hide the ring in the desert. He was trying to be romantic.

Turns out, a parking lot proposal can still be just as romantic.

Their first wedding anniversary was ruined by a vicious stomach bug - nothing like dealing with gastroenteritis together to bring a couple closer - and their second led to a very embarrassing ER trip. They decided to put a pause on impulsive adventures in the bedroom.

Now, for their third wedding anniversary, Buck had decided to make a simpler plan. Reservations at a restaurant close to them, with food they know and love and absolutely no more surprises. Easy and intimate. They’d try their luck again next year, he thought.

Of course, it would be a perfect plan if Tommy would hurry.

“20 minutes, Tommy.” Buck whines, standing by the door.

“I’m sorry, I’m ready,” Tommy rushes out of the bedroom, fixing his tie. Buck lets out a frustrated breath and puts his hands on his hips, Tommy grins apologetically as he looks at his husband. “You look gorgeous as always, husband.”

Buck tries to keep his frustration even as Tommy lays a smacking kiss on his lips but if it hadn’t been the kisses, the way the word “husband” from the other man’s mouth still makes him melt would have done it. With a sigh, Buck pulls Tommy to him by his tie and kisses him softly.

“You look gorgeous too.”

Tommy smiles that scrunchy smile and Buck would propose again if he could. His husband holds out his arm for Buck to take. “Shall we?”

“Ye-”

His phone rings.

Both of them frown at it for a second. Their whole family knows of their celebration, as simple as it may be, they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t for anything serious. Please, not another emergency.

“I-I should-” Buck starts, grabbing his phone from his trousers pocket while Tommy nods.

It isn’t Maddie or Chimney. It isn’t Hen or Karen. It isn’t Bobby and it certainly isn’t Athena. It isn’t Eddie, despite his sometimes forgetfulness regarding the Buckley-Kinard’s plans.

“J-Joan is calling me.” Buck mumbles as he reads the name on his phone screen.

“W-What?”

“Joan is calling me.” He repeats as if it’ll make more sense the second time.

The couple looks at each other and then back at the phone, back at each other again. His husband seems to get his wits about him faster, thankfully.

“What are you waiting for? Pick up, pick up.”

Buck takes a deep breath while the other man crosses his arms over his chest, one hand playing with his bottom lip. He exudes nerves and confusion. He knows exactly what a call from Joan means - better yet, knows how strange it is that Joan is calling him at all.

Joan never calls him. He always calls her.

Holy shit.

His finger trembles as he accepts the call and clears his throat. “H-Hello?”

“Mr. Buckley,” The woman on the other side of the phone speaks in a professional tone, not the usual fondly exasperated sigh, and Buck even forgets to correct the last name as he usually does. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“No, you’re-it’s alright,” He scratches his scalp, ignoring the way it messes his hair. “I mean, is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Joan is nervous. Oh, that’s weird. “I wanted to talk to you about P-the baby.”

Buck feels like his heart is about to explode out of chest. “Is she okay?” He feels Tommy’s comforting touch on his forearms and it helps keep his heart inside of his body even if it’s stuck at his throat.

“She’s safe,” Joan quickly assures him and he relishes in the deep breath he takes. “She’s back with us.”

Buck frowns and Tommy matches, even if he can’t hear what’s being said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, her foster parents went back on the adoption.”

“But she was with them for like two years, h-how-what?!”

“Take a deep breath, baby.” Tommy whispers, taking hold of his hand, and Buck tries to temper the anger in his chest.

“I can’t disclose much over the phone, Mr. Buckley,” Joan’s professional tone is back and he almost cherishes it - someone in this call should keep their wits. “Would you be able to come to the office tomorrow morning?”

“Y-yeah, I’m free but-“

“I knew you were attached to the baby when we first met,” Joan interrupts, sentimentality creeping into her voice. “And I also know that you weren’t in the right space to take her.”

Buck nods wordlessly. He still remembered holding that baby for the first time after pulling her out of the baby box outside the fire station. Still remembered the way the baby held his fingers, her noises, gurgles, cries. And he still remembered, could feel it even now, how hard it was to have to give her to the social worker. But Joan had been kind and always took his calls, even if it was to say the same thing everytime - “I can’t disclose private information, Mr. Buckley, but she’s safe”.

Tommy, his beautiful husband, holds his hand tighter. He also knows about it all, may not have felt it but he knows. Buck told him all about meeting the small baby after their breakup, how it had felt good to make someone happy for that day. Told him how he had wished he was in a better place so he could take her home. But he couldn’t.

But maybe now-

“I’m hoping that maybe now, things are different?” Joan’s tone was hopeful and Buck’s heart pounds in his chest with the same hope.

Maybe now.

He looks into Tommy’s eyes and his husband looks back, the love of his life sees what he doesn’t have the words to say. He’s so lucky. Tommy smiles at him, that hopeful smile that was there when he first saw the wedding ring, when they first kissed, in that little café. His husband nods and Buck feels all the pieces fitting together, pieces that he didn’t even know were scattered.

“What time do you want me there, Joan?”

He hears her relieved breath and smiles. “9 o’clock?”

Buck grins. “We’ll be there.”

As soon as he hangs up, he is pulled into a kiss, a passionate and happy kiss that he is more than happy to reciprocate. A kiss that tastes salty but the good kind.

They don’t make their reservations. They order Chinese as Buck brings out the clipboard, they start making plans.

As far as surprises on their anniversaries, getting a daughter is probably the best of them.