#so i'm sorry if it doesn't make any sense of if it's full of typos

[dimepdf]

★  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓. + 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. the jjk men and how perverted they would be to their partner.

─── ☆ notes. sorry for being flakey i've been recovering from having Agust D tickets stolen right out of my hands (i was too late putting in my card information) so i'm pretty much in constant mourning at the moment. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | masterbation | scent kink | oral sex | facials | marking | possessiveness | manipulation(?) | sub/dom | switching | brat taming | voyeurism | exhibitionism | mentions of multiple partners | sadism | biting | rough sex | cock warming | creampie | is you see a typo simply ignore it | title inpso by this song.

★     NANAMI KENTO !

‣ He would take it to the grave, though, with the type of things he would do when he did not have your comfort: tucking his shoes to the side and tossing aside his tie after a long day at work, all those rightful morals get tossed aside as well, seeing you had left to go back to your own home, leaving the almost overbearing traces of you against his mattress and pillows.

‣ tucking his face into his bed sheets while he slowly reaches down to undo the buckle of his belt, his hand creeping under the button of his pants in search to help ease the tension that grew as his erection engulfed in him what was left of you.

‣ grunting pathetically as he stuffed his face against his pillow, fucking his fist, the thought of your body, the things you two would do under the sheets.

‣ He will do anything he needs to do to not ruin his gentlemanly persona, his thoughts about you are more tamed and docile than those of the others, who would be more open with their thoughts.

‣ but I feel like Nanami wouldn’t really show his true nature no matter how many times you poke and prod at him, taunting him sexually, he’ll always make it seem as if you are the one that always suggests something first.

‣ I feel like he's also very into seeing you cry, especially if you like light bondage, whether he’s tying your hands together with his tie or holding your wrist behind your back with his belt.

‣ But on a rare occasion, like when he’s just mentally exhausted and really craving your touch and needs a little widedown, he can't help but  be a little touchy and needy for some sense of comfort.

‣ That comfort comes in a lot of ways: cuddling, making out, handjobs, and helping his very terrible oral fixation that never fails to have you fall victim to house mouth by spreading out on top of any and every surface in his home with your thighs trembling as your knee was bent over his shoulder.

★     GOJO SATORU !

‣ This man is very shameless and vocal about the things he wants and will do to you, so shameless that you have to apologize to anyone within a hearing radius.

‣ He literally does not care and does not have an ounce of decorum in his body.

‣ No matter how much he teases you for being "obsessed," you both know damn well how overly possessive he is over you and your body. There is never a time your two are in the same room and he doesn't have his hands all over you.

‣ The problem is that he isn't ashamed of talking about the things he wants to do with you to literally any poor victim willing to listen; he had the dedicated photo album full of saved selfies and pictures and the very lewd picture of you in lingerie tucked in his wallet, ready to be pulled out at any unfortunate time.

‣ The more you two get comfortable and closer, I feel like he will get more whiny and needy for your physical contact and attention, touching and kissing all over you in public.

‣  Kissing all over you, including the multiple items he would spoil you with, ranging from expensive lingerie in his favorite color to little trinkets that remind him of you. His favorite thing to do is buy you clothes and have you try them on in front of him.

‣  He just cannot keep his hands to himself, especially when you look so good in the sexy suit he bought from Victoria Secret that just complimented your boobs so much. It shouldn't be a surprise that it only takes him a glance before he’s tugging your panties to the side and fucking you against the wall.

★     TOJI FUSHIGURO !

‣ Another shameless man who does not give a fuck where he is or who’s around; when he wants you, he wants you.

‣ Definitely more subtle compared to Gojo (which isn't saying much).

‣ He’s just a major tits guy and loves when you post selfies with cleavage just to screenshot for his gallery and zoom in on your chest.

‣ If you happen to be in his company, rather than lounging around cuddling, his hands will at some point end up under your shirt, fondling your chest and pinching your nipples, using your boobs like a personal stress ball, and if he's not doing that, his head is tucked under your shirt, sucking hickies on them as if it were some normal occurrence.

‣ There’s no normal moment when you're dating Toji; this man knows he can act upon his lewd desires and will tuck your panties in his back pocket after sex as if they were some type of award for making you finish twice.

‣  He’s a man with artistic ability; that being said, he likes how you look covered in his cum; rather, it's all over your face, boobs, buttocks, and stomach. You better believe he’s pulling out and painting all over you.

‣ will get a little whiny whenever you try to clean yourself off, but it's fine because the moment you get out of the shower, he’s tapping you in for another round (rest in peace your ability to walk straight).

 ‣ He does not have a single shameless bone in his body; in fact, he loves it when you catch him doing something pervy; he only gets more excited.

‣ Rather its jerking off with your underwear and possibly grunting out your name knowing you're a step away, the moment that door swings open, he’s holding eye contact and fucking his fist.

‣ As much as people assume Toji to be some hard dom I feel like he does have a bit of a bratty side, and it does not help that he can get super petty, especially if he doesn't get what he wants. Oh, lord, that man will teasingly taunt like there's no tomorrow.

‣ And the worst part is that he does it as if he isn't the one practically whining for you to touch him.

‣ Don't even bother trying to get payback, whether it's trying to get him winded up with a cute lewd text or sending a sext picture of yourself, he will hit back ten times as hard and even make you drag it out until he’s the one with the upper hand.  

★     GETO SUGURU !

‣ okay… So I know what I said about Gojo being the most perverted, but I think that Geto might sometimes give him a run for his money.

‣ He's got the shameless thing all checked, in fact, he's so shameless that he makes you feel embarrassed and flustered, as if you're the one at fault.

‣ He is the same with Toji, he doesn't care who’s near doesn't matter he has his hands all over you, taunting and teasing you right in front of his friends he does not give a single care.

‣ He loves getting you all flustered in public, no matter who’s listening, he will straight out ask you to touch him whenever he feels like it.

‣ He loves the thought of you coming undone with an audience watching how much he can please you, a possessive sense of pride waving over him as he fucks you in front of everyone, telling them exactly who you belong to as you moan out his name. As long as you keep your eyes on him, there won't be a problem.

‣ frames lewd pictures of you, I’m not even kidding.

‣ I feel like he would have one of those huge portraits of you modeled in fancy lingerie hung like art in his living room, or small portraits of you in his bedroom.

‣ When you first noticed them, he just sort of smirked as you tried to tell him off.

★     SUKUNA RYOMEN !

‣ Oh brother, this dude gets grimy with it. 

‣ He’s got a major god complex, so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that he doesn't see that what he’s doing is perverted, downright bad, to the point where he calls you a pervert for still liking him knowing the type of shit he’s into.

‣ Is a panty sniffing, dick stepping, fucking in public or even while his friends watch, watching you shower, jacking off while laying next to you, type of freak.

‣ Let's step back and backtrack on that friend thing. To everyone's surprise, Sukuna loves sharing, so much so that he’s into watching you get passed around by his friends.

‣ Practically invented voyeurism, loves the look on your face while you're getting railed, but only while you hold eye contact with him and moan his name while you're with some other dude.

‣ Sure he’s possessive, but in cocky way. 

‣ He knows he’s better than any other man you’ll ever be with, he’s the best thing that has ever graced your silly little pitbull life, so no matter how many times you complain about some sad pitful fuck, he knows it’ll never beat the multiple times he’d leave you trembling from just his mouth.

‣ He’s a huge tease with his tongue and long fingers, you’d have to be in tears and whimpering out his name before he'd consider pulling his dick out and fucking you.

‣ Is very huge on crying, whether it's from overstimulation or you just being overwhelmed from being angry at him. Just know the little devils on both sides of his shoulders are practically barking at him to bend you over and fuck you when the tears start spilling. 

‣ He’s a mean fucking, hair tugging, biting, leaving bruises, slapping, degrading—you could name anything that inflicts some sort of pain, and Sukuna has already tried it.

‣ But on the very rare occasion when he allows you too to take just a bit of charge, his desperate side does get a chance to shine out more, begging for you to let him cum in you, begging for you to give him orders.

‣ Sex will always end with you feeling like some type of jelly-filled doughnut (I'm so sorry), and he refuses to cum anywhere else but inside of you, let alone let you move from his grasp when he’s done. Best believe you’re keeping his cock warm for the rest of the night.

🔖 @souljagrldotcom / @m0mmym1lk3r-png / @toji-dabi-wife / @dilfs-lover / @venussakura / @emery-333 / @unheolybakugo / @dunixxd / @taeecups / @songbirdgardensworld / @celi-xxmoon / @s-witch-bitch / @chloee0x0 / @kawatabae / @haitaniwhor3 / @pluzo / @hey-gurls69 / @momoewn / @sheluvzeren / @kogoshidied / @sacvh / @disaster-rose / @hoohoohope / @pidwidge / @jadeisthirsting / @cjm-cookiethief / @zuuki / @tojishugetiddies / @rumi-rants / @justanotherkpopstanlol / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @lexiinanime / @melty-kisses / @kageyama-i-want-tobiors / @kiyomeichann / @wenumsmol / @unholybabyface / @namidaass / @princesstiti14 / @watyousayin / @laylasbunbunny / @crissteetee / @ziggy-09 / @angel-luv-04 / @anotherlovelyruin / @p-rizz-ha / @lone-poltergeist / @mimixrx2 / @t4naiis

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[jonas-ct]

I, once again, made art for a naruto au that I'll never explain

OH YEAH, sorry to the people who started to follow me cuz of the Gem fanart, im very much still narutobrained... oopsiee

It doesn't make much sense if we're not in my brain (and even then, I often confuse myself) so don't worry about that too much, im just sharing cuz i thought it looked kinda cool

I can't stop putting moons i just idk it's such an important thing to me but anyway whatever

No lineart or full sketch this time cuz i messed up and didnt export either

Also it's kinda rushed cuz i had thoughts, created the au, got left alone with a french pop playlist for half an hour, had an illustration idea, and did it in the next 2 to 3 hours

Idk how cropping pics works on tumblr

Actually i think i do have the sketch of the non au version cuz sometimes i do that

Just a kakashi casually hanging out at the bottom what was i thinking, actually what am i thinking rn i told myself i should never write a post at 1am, and what am i doing? Exactly that

Why did I whatever

I'm not even gonna reread this before posting I know myself too well, please forgive any typo, i didn't eat my dinner chocolate and I'm very sad about it

Cant wait for tomorrow when I'll be like "man actually this is ass, did i post this on tumblr, holy shit i did why tf did i do that do i hate myself?" I don't hate myself cuz my bf wouldn't like that

[littleplantfreak]

Dicentra

Umemiya Hajime x Reader

1700+ words

All aboard the angst train! I'll be your conductor. Please keep all your hands, feet, and hearts within the car at all times! (Read the CWs!)

Cw: Character death (implied), Thalassophobia (if you don't like the ocean this isn't for you dude), Heart Disease/Heart Attack, Animal death maybe? There's a one line comment. Angst without comfort

Thank you @hvlcy0n for helping me with the title, and i'm sorry if it makes you sad. Also I read and edited it like twice so if the sentence doesn't make sense, or there's a typo I will be alright.

A delayed honeymoon with an unhappy ending. That's it for synopsis.

Life is a lot like the ocean. It ebbs and flows, pulling you from the place you once were. You can feel the otherworldly tug even if you bury your feet and hunker down, never able to figure out if you've managed to stay in place long enough to catch your breath. Sometimes, when a wave large enough comes along, it knocks you off your feet, rolling you across the coarse floor. Breathing is no longer a choice as you struggle, and salt covers your tongue before it seeps down your throat.

The ocean today, though? Today, the sun bathes you in warmth as the water soothes itself against the coast. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect week to spend your honeymoon here.

When you and Hajime first got married, there was no time for a real trip. Right in the midst of summer, when the community greenhouse he ran was in full bloom, and your work insisted there was no way for you to take off enough time to properly travel anywhere, marital bliss was enough to keep you more than satisfied, and it still is! But your husband insists this is necessary for both of you to take time for yourselves, says it's actually a crime for him to have taken this long to spoil you the right way. He's been acting kinda funny, so you've chalked it up to the stress he's had to endure to make sure everything was squared away before you both came here.

The sundress you're wearing is just for him, the color he loves best on you blowing in the cool breeze, lifting it higher on your thighs, and he's watching that more than the scenery around you.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." You're teasing him because he's been taking photos nonstop since you arrived a few days ago.

"Shoot! You're right," he says, patting the pockets of his shorts only to come up with a hand full of shells that he's been collecting during your walk along the beach. "Shellfish of me to be keeping this view to myself, huh? Need to show everyone how pretty my wife is," and he stresses the word wife like he always does; it's liquid warmth that makes its way past the barriers you'd put up long ago as if they were never there in the first place. Only because it's him, you think, because if it had been anyone else, you wouldn't be nearly as smitten or prone to tears when his words hit the spot in your chest that makes you breathless.

"Mr.Umemiya forgot his camera? How careless," you tut, walking up to him and tugging on both sides of his open shirt, the same one you wore to bed last night. "Looks like we might have to go back to our room and look for it. Maybe it's under the covers?" You ask innocently, or as innocently as you can pretend to be. For a second, his expression is one of confusion as he tries to figure out if you're being serious. The look in your eyes must've clued him in because his big beautiful smile spans the length of his face, almost blinding you in the process.

"You know what? I think I did leave it there. Sorry to make you walk all this way out here without it, lovey, mind if we go get it?" And before you can answer, he's hoisting you up into his arms as easily as he has any other day. You're carried far past the umbrella you set up earlier and even further along the trail of tall grass that lead towards your small beach house. He huffs a little, easing you to your feet on the hardwood, and you pat him on the chest.

"I know you're getting older, so you might wanna take it easy with lugging me around everywhere." You smile.

He gasps, offended by your suggestion just like you thought he would, "Never. If I had it my way, I'd carry you 24/7."

"If I had it my way, you'd never leave our bed again."

"I might be able to arrange that," he murmurs, drawing you in as he plops down onto the edge of the bed. Sitting sideways on his lap, you thread a hand through his hair before taking a good look at him. Still handsome as ever, your gaze traces the shape of his lips and the dip of his nose, trailing a way to the scar on his eyebrow, years old but still a vivid reminder of the past. When you settle on those light eyes of his, you frown. Were the circles under his eyes always so dark? His own gaze smothers you half loving, half exhausted, sending a prick of anxiety down your spine.

"Why don't we nap first? I'm a little tired from walking earlier," you lie, and it burns, but it's a necessity when you know he'll try and perk up if you were to say he looked tired, making light of it and showing you just how awake he can be.

He's thrown for a moment because the words coming out of your mouth aren't sounding quite right. He shakes it off with an easy smile, maneuvering you both up higher on the bed, and he grabs the blankets to wrap over you before throwing his leg across your hip, pinning you so you're face to face with him. "This alright?" he asks.

"Better than alright." Snuggling closer, he's practically surrounding you, and it eases the earlier nervousness out faster than it came.

_____

You can't see the ocean from where you're at in the field. It's a shame because it would've made a stunning picture. Still, the one you got of Hajime and yourself sitting on the bench near an ancient oak tree, wild flowers spanning across the background for miles was just as good.

His arm was thrown loosely over your shoulder, wind whirling the strands of his hair as he smiled and laughed with the old man who took the picture for you. It's your last day here before you go home, and you've taken it easy after that last day at the beach. Stretching up, you take in everything for what it's worth, trying to commit it all to memory. Sure, you have plenty of photos and videos taken, but you'll never feel this specific way on this specific day ever again.

As you soak up the tranquility, he asks if you want a drink. No sooner do the words sounds great come out of your mouth than he shoots up and tells you to wait there for him. It's only a jog down the road. You go to get up, but the insistence that you relax pushes your legs to sit once more, heaving a sigh at his doting.

Ten minutes go by, but he could just be chatting with the person at the farm stand. He has a bad habit of bringing out the extra long stories when he's in a good mood, usually leaving you to be the one dragging him away. Twenty minutes has the pebble in your throat feeling like a rock, kinda like the ones Hajime can grab with his toes in the the sand under water. The first time he showed you the trick you called him monkey toes and laughed till he splashed you in the face calling you Mrs. monkey toes. When you start the walk, you feel the pull of a wave on your legs. The ambulance siren is drowned out by the water in your ears.

_____

If he had to describe you with one word, Umemiya Hajime would know immediately what to say. Strong. Stronger than he is, even if you didn't believe it. It was hidden and yet plain to see, often being mistaken for something else. You complimented each other so well that he doesn't imagine a time when he'd have to be without you. He is without you right now, digging for his wallet as he approaches the farm stand he's spent an hour at a couple days ago, talking to the couple who ran it and gushing over their produce before showing pictures of his own garden and greenhouse.

He'd be lying if he said the pressure in his chest didn't bother him, but he could push through it. It's not like he was unaccustomed to pain given his background, and he has to wait for the results of the tests the doctors ran a few weeks ago before he starts stressing over how to tell you there's something wrong with his heart. It doesn't sound right. It's the heart he loves you with, loves the town with, and loves his siblings with. So saying there's something wrong with it, though logically he knows there's a difference, is hard to believe.

What's harder to believe is that the world has spun on its axis, gravel cutting into his arm though he just barely feels it over the pounding in his ears and chest. He recalls at this moment the fact that animals hide when they're sick and ailing, and briefly wonders if that's what this was. Deep in the back of his mind was he trying to spare you the stress of what was about to happen? He would've made the decision regardless, but there must be some comfort in it.

Try as he might, the screeching cacophony of noise and light that was once normal sensation only furthers his stomach's twists and turns. He can feel a breath ripped from his lungs, and then everything starts to get a little hazy. He feels the sun on his face, hears the bubbling of the ocean, and for a moment, he's at the beach with you.

Sometimes life is like the ocean. Sometimes, a riptide pulls your legs from under you and drags you deep beneath murky depths, panic causing you to sink only further and further, light swallowed up just like you. If you manage to surface, you're exhausted. If.

Can you see the hand slipping up past water's edge, grasping at air to be pulled up? You thought the ocean wasn't that close, but the cold laps at your legs even before you get to the farm stand. The world dull and gray like far off waves surrounds you when you see your husband being put into the ambulance, usually warm skin tone mimicking the same water that seems to drown you.

[melancoley]

ੈ˚ʚ welcome to my notion tutorial !!

♡ my notion took me a month to make. It's a bit frustrating sometimes, but i want you to know that it's possible to have some organization in your life.

notion is meant to help you have a more organized life: trackers, goals, diary entries, anything can be turn into a notion page and i'm here to teach you how. ♡

ps: sorry for being so long and with some typos and whatnot ♡

♡. 1st step: the choice of an aesthetic.

it's important to have an idea when you start your notion;

for me, i wanted a place cozy and warm that reminded me of spring.

my main color is green. and with that defined, i started looking for color palettes with the types of green that i liked the most.

(i used this website, but any is good enough. it's just to give you an idea of what you're going to work with.)

i chose an aesthetic more gloomy, academic, and obviously green, (for my main layout, a retro blue-ish layout for my fanfics and a melancholy yellow for my original works) and with that i jumped to step 2.

♡. 2nd step: hunting images and inspiration.

pinterest, pinterest, pinterest.

i can't stress this enough. use keywords to find what you actually need.

if you're a beginner, start with notion inspo, notion [aesthetic] ideas, anything notion related. pick your favs and choose what you like most about each one:

the font, the pictures, the layout, even a small detail like an aesthetic quote design -just make sure you know what you like the most.

once you have a list of what you want, you start searching for images.

keywords i suggest are: [color] aesthetic, [color] cinematography, [color] photography, and, especially, [color] png icon.

i find it really satisfying having pngs on your notion: it gives a better sense of home and they cute, so it's a plus!

(most png aren't transperants on pinterest, so i use this app to make it a real png. now, know that it's not perfect and on dark mode might look funky, but it's worth a shot ig ♡)

for transperants images i suggest you look on tumblr. just use key-words and remember to pt 'png' at the end.

now you should be left with a small gallery of photos with the same color scheme and this takes us to step 3!

♡. 3rd step: dividers save lives.

pick one image to be the base of your notion layout.

it might be for your notion icon, header, or just a random pic laying around your notion. but make sure you only have one.

with that, go to an app that finds colors (i use this one) and pick the 3 most predominant colors! i suggest one darker, one lighter, and one in between.

this works not only as dividers but to enhance any quote or pic that you have. e.g.:

as you can see, this little dividers (size that i use: 948x8) work better than the ones provided by notion and they're easy to make. just open paint and you're done!

and once you have all the inspo, all the pics and dividers, it's time to create some art ♡

♡. 4th step: the creation of art.

is time to make pages and more pages.

now, please know that this requires lots of work, frustration and patience. sometimes the website doesn't want to collaborate and it might get a bit annoying. but know that it's totally fine to take breaks and take your time. this is something for you and you only.

you can take all the time you want ♡

ㅤㅤ♡. 4.1 step: page outline.

choose the number of pages !

i suggest you have one homepage with quick links to your other pages:

trackers, school related, hobbies, anything really.

it's your notion after all, you can do anything.

after having the number of pages you can star outlining the pages.

the beginning is always difficult and embaracing, but if you give it a try, i'm sure you will create art!

i suggest, if you do a full page, to use 4 to 6 columns. it might be a bit overwhelming at the start, but i found it easier to work with more columns and less rows. also, it's more compact which makes everything x3254 cuter.

nut you can literally do whatever you want! so here's my organization ♡

my personal organization !

homepage (5-6 columns, 4 rows): quick links to my other 4 pages. daily routine. quick reading and writing trackers. my performances schedules and feedback. goals for the month. clock, weather, year progress bar (see end of post).

original works (4-6 columns, 2 rows): my three wips. websites that help me with writing. my progress in each work. motivational quotes.

fanfic works (4 columns): folders for each fandom with more folders for hcs, one-shots, multi-chapter and ideas. motivational quotes. goals for the year. pretty pics and quotes.

trackers (5-6 columns, 4-5 rows): media that i'm currently consuming or consumed, with details such as rating, author, and some sub-pages with my extensive thoughts.

in short !

have one big page at the beginning to help you navigate easier.

don't be afraid to had columns and rows! if there's a blank space, throw some png's and quotes at it. it always makes everything 10x cuter.

ㅤㅤ♡. 4.2 step: widgets are your best friends.

add some widgets to make it prettier ♡

i use this website. it's pretty easy and has the main widgets.

a quick google search might take you to other websites so feel free to explore ♡

♡. 5th step: a touch of magic and stardust.

the start of a new page is always frustating: what aesthetic to use? what do you put first? what if it's corny? too much quotes? so many questions and, hey!, i hear ya! it's a pain in the ass.

that's why i'm here to tell you that you will change your layout lot's of time. even if you have already in mind what you have, it's only normal to change stuff every now and then until you have the perfect page.

e.g.:

you can see how my first homepage (pic. 1) changed drastically to my current homepage (pic.2). not only the color scheme changed, but the layout itself.

more artistic pictures, cuter png's and quotes, and my homepage changed completely!

so don't be afraid of change! it is important fr ♡

♡. don't forget about...

you can change the font and size of the page by clicking on the three dots on the top right of your screen ♡

make your text pretty with cool symbols !!

again, just surf the internet and tumblr and i'm sure that aesthetic bios will provide you with the cute little symbols to make everything cute ♡

be creative with your picture layouts ! ♡

i personally use pinterest (frame template) and clipstudio to make prettier pictures, but i'm sure any photoshop app can give you this effect as well.

play with png's and make your notion look more alive ♡

any hanging or 2 png's similar can help with a look cleaner and more organized.

add spotify playlists (it had to be public, i'm afraid) and youtube videos for more diversity!

table view is a life changer for organizing trackers, especially books and movies ♡

let me know if you want a deeper tutorial on how to use any function or if i forgot mentioning something you would like to know more about ♡

i hope this helps you and it's clear. know that i'm here for anything you need and i'm sure you're gonna do amazing things there ♡

[bilbo12]

Wukong cares about people. Macaque isn't a saint.

Alright, I've wanted to write this for a while, so here I go. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any typos.

I've been watching so many fananimations of LEGO Monkie Kid. They're all gorgeous, top of the top, excellent, chef kiss and I'm glad the fandom seems to be growing every day.

But I HATE how so many people have portrayed Wukong as an asshole who doesn't care about anyone. Love the animations, they're great but I don't think Wukong is the villain people make him out to be.

Now don't get me wrong, Wukong has made many, many, many, mistakes throughout his life. The thing is, people don't seem to realize that while he messed up, his intentions were good! "Yeah, right, then how is he such a bad mentor?" I'm gonna shut you up right there.

When MK first got the staff, he didn't know how to use it, I agree with you. But Wukong is a milennia old stone monkey who has gone through a lot on his life, getting stronger and stronger with each fight.

"Pfft, what about DBK? You can handle it! Consider it a trial"

That's what he tells MK when said boy asks him what to do with DBK, because for Wukong that fight is easy. He then reassures him that with enough confidence in himself he could take him on. He trusted MK since the first moment and even told him to consider it as a trial. He was evaluating MK during his fight to make sure he had picked the right successor.

And just in case and most probably noticing how nervous he was on his first fight, he kept an eye out on him to make sure to intervene in case MK needed help. Wukong already knew that MK was invincible before locking away some of his powers in the second episode, therefore he was confident that he would succeed. And even if he already knew he was going to defeat DBK, he still watched over him to make sure he wouldn't get hurt.

Following this battle, in the first episode "Bad Weather", MK doesn't call for Wukong's help. He's confronting Red Son when suddenly the staff acts on its own and takes him down to the ground and who appears afterwards? The Monkey King himself! Almost as if he had sensed that MK needed some help with defeating Red Son. Almost as if he had been the one to call for the staff so he could talk with his student. Again, he showed up on his own because he cares.

"Then what about that time he abandoned him?"

He didn't abandon him. To abandon someone is to stop supporting them, to give up completely in someone. Monkey King knew that LBD was coming back but he didn't want either MK or his friends to get hurt.

He's used to doing things on his own! I mean, on JTTW Wukong was always sent ahead to see if there were any demons that would kidnap Tripitaka. And even though he warned his companions numerous times that there were demons under the disguise of innocent people, they wouldn't believe him. So why should he tell MK and his friends that there's an enemy approaching? Every time he had warned other people of other threats, they had never believed him, so why should MK be any different?

I think that's one of the reasons why he didn't even try to defend himself when Pigsy snapped at him. Because he's used to taking the blame. What's the point in trying to do something right if you're going to be blamed for everything going wrong, regardless of how much you try to make it okay? He even tries to keep helping MK through his training with the astral projection throughout the whole season!

So, he searched for the map that would lead him to the rings of the Samadhi Fire, knowing full well that he could end up dying.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! I thought if I could somehow get the Samadhi Fire out of you, without hurting you of course, then I could put it inside myself. Then, I don't know, use it to burn up the Lady Bone Demon or something?"

Let's remember that while it's difficult to hurt Wukong, the Samadhi Fire is one of the powers that could actually kill him. He was willing to risk his life so he'd be able to save not only the whole world, but his friends as well. Do you realize how crazy that sounds? To be willing to give up his own life to save the Earth?

He even says that he wanted try to get the ring out of Mei without hurting her.

Would someone who didn't care about anyone try to make something as painless as possible for the victim? I don't think so.

Alright, let's focus on Macaque now for a bit.

My biggest beef with this guy is that some people seem to paint him as the misunderstood character who never did anything wrong because "Oh, my best friend abandoned me and woe is me!". Yuck.

While Macaque has many good reasons to be angry at Monkey King, that still doesn't give him the right to kidnap and trick MK. It doesn't give him the right to taunt him and make him feel like shit, nor the right to manipulate him and make him think that he's not a good successor.

"Well, you know what that means! There really isn't anything special about you. You're just some kid with a heavy stick!"

Macaque knew that if he hurt MK, eventually Wukong would come out to save him, because he knows that he'll protect him. This is a little theory of mine, but Macaque manipulates shadows, right? Who knows how many times he's watched MK from them? Because I don't think his plan to steal MK's powers was something he thought of in just one minute. No, I'm pretty sure that plan took a while to be thought of.

"Ah, MK. You really are dense, aren't you? You saw a story about a hero who got handed everything? Who didn't have to work for anything? And you thought you were the other guy? The second the hero got real power, he couldn't care less about his friends. That's you, bud."

He tricked him into sharing his insecurities, knowing full well that MK was vulnerable and stressed out about the whole LBD situation, then blamed him for not caring about his friends. He made him doubt whether he truly cares about his friends or not or whether he was even a good person.

And we all know how hard MK's worked to try to get control of his powers, especially after he lost them when LBD took away his staff. MK can be a lot of things: optimistic, a bit smug at times, a bit forgetful... But if there's one thing I'm sure of is that he worked hard to control his powers. He even asked Wukong to limit them so he could control them better, knowing that it'd be harder but he still did it.

And let's take into account that Wukong apologized to MK for how he acted towards him. Macaque, still to this day, hasn't apologized at all. And yet, he keeps mocking Wukong and saying he's the same old Wukong, while he himself is still stuck in the past.

I get that Macaque is angry at Wukong, I really do. But if he were really so angry against him, maybe he should've brought it to Wukong himself instead of using MK. He isn't a saint. He's made mistakes as well. These two are very complicated characters who have gone through a lot, but neither of them are blameless. Macaque isn't a saint, but he does care about some people. And although Wukong has made many mistakes, that doesn't mean that he doesn't care about other people.

Anyways, to finish it off, as MK once said:

"Uh, you know you two are the same, right?"

[vanillaxoshi]

Hiyaaa I'm that anon that asked if I could write something based on the art piece of Solar you did. Here it is! Trigger warning tho for implied selfharm and pretty decidely implied psychological trauma. Sorry for any typos too I typed this at 2 am after a very hard day :') --

There's a cold chilling breeze on a now barren rock in space. Or well logistics in the matter he's on a planet of course. With some patches of life of course other than the crater he'd made. But well..

..He still can't see. Can he?

There's only the blurred mess of grayed browns, of smoke filling his nose and every other sense.

Solar really should get away from it but alas he was told to stay put. And the last time he disobeyed... Yeah he shouldn't move.

Doesn't solve how his legs itch to move. Doesn't stop the nearly numbing pain in head as his eyes slowly knit and reshape itself. Doesn't stop his hands bleeding what's broken on the inside out.

Solar is tired. Solar is broken or he should be. Should be more broken then just his hands. Part of him deeply wished to be.

He'd be lucky if it happened after the stun he pulled. His master says he should be thankful to whatever Higher being decided to still bless him with eyesight after trying to claw them out.

For risking something so precious was the exact wording he used.

And Solar finds himself reliving the memory.

.

.

.

When he had done it, Retak'ka had asked why. Surprisingly not in anger as Solar expected. Already having preparations of excuses or reasons to why he'd not only done something so reckless but also that would completely make them lose everything they've worked for.

Everything Solar was made for.

Yet it didn't come. Just a simple quiet, "Why did you do it".

And much to Solars own stupid dismay that he even now kicks himself for time and time again. There were no words on his tongue, it threw him off and out of the loop.

.. Why did he do it.. he couldn't just admit why he did it. But he couldn't leave it unanswered.

"I'm testing if conscious harm done by me will do worse damage," he says this with blood dripping from his shut eyes. Acting as if his nails aren't caked with his own blood. Like he wasn't going to force them open for another go if his Master didn't walk in.

The lie.. was an obvious one. Even if his voice didn't waver. Every point of his said the opposite, his already blackened hands pulsed with an old pain and his eyes only exploded with it from the beginning.

Retak'ka knew it was a lie. There's no way he didn't.

But he silently hoped. He just wished silently to just let him have this. Just let him lie this easily without any repercussions.

And he did. He let him lie. 

He let him lie knowing full well what he did, knowing Solar still wouldn't be relieved. Not even as he cleans his hands from the blood and sits on the floor with his eyes not actively bleeding anymore after he’d cleaned up. 

"You shouldn't have done that", Retak'ka says to Solar, handing the Light Elemental a wet rag. Solar takes it and presses it on his eyes.

"A test like that is much too risky, even with the.. curious idea behind it"

"Tests always have risks to take."

"Not if they risk something precious and personal"  he hears

Solar wanted to rebuke that about all the risks he's taken. By using Solar's power so.. so openly. After being kept hidden for stars, know how long. For all the risk Retak'ka is doing by basically kidnapping the other Spirits. It was ludicrous!

It was disgusting to even think about but.. but Solar kept his mouth shut. He didn't say anything but a quiet "hmmm"

It was easier that way. Easier to just... take it? No and yes. But it was also easier to just.. keep quiet. Be silent and follow orders. It'd only quite literally harm him more in the long run in more ways than one if he disobeyed.

He feels a hand on his head, and Solar has half the mind to recoil from the touch but doesn't.

"You are precious to me Cahaya"

That catches Solar more off guard. He.. hasn't used his real name in a long while. Nor has he openly ever shown affection like this. Not like Sir Tok Kasa or Gempa..

Solar tenses. And he doesn't know why, realistically he should be calmer. He isn't getting punished, he's not needing to explain himself on why he did other than what was said before.. So why is so.. fearful?

"So please don't do this again."  There were words left out of that sentence. But Solar only nodded. His vocal cords refused to do as they were intended and speak.

So he forces himself to at least stop being so fretful and calm down. It doesn't work but he tries.

..."yeah alright I won't do it again." His voice was quiet but any louder he felt would ruin something. What it is he has no clue, but it's something.

"Good" There was a ruffle of his hair before he heard footsteps leave the room.

.

.

.

Solar snaps out of the memory blinking. There's a familiar pounding behind his eyes as he instinctively reaches up to itch them but stops.

There are tears welling in his eyes. And he's realizing how crying. Yet the Light Spirit can only feel a numbing somber he's felt way too many times to count anymore.

His world used to be light itself both metaphoric and literal.

Solar used to be happier.

Cahaya used to be happier.

He's the light, supposedly having the power to create warmth for others. Something to be a beacon of hope for, dangerous but loving ultimately. He used to be those.. and still he can't help but mourn it. What he used to be.

Cahaya.

Solar was Cahaya but.. not anymore. He couldn't return to those times even if he wanted to.

Which he does. But he doesn't have a choice in the matter.

But still..

Cahaya cries tears of sorrowful golden rays. He's crying liquid glow of what he used to be. And he can't see anymore, the once blurred mess of browns, just filled with his tears.

This land he ruined.. helped ruined. It used to be green, part of him thinks Daun would've loved it... but now much like him. It's barren. Empty.

He hears footsteps and doesn't bother trying to wipe his face.

"Your crying," is the only thing he hears as his master stops by his side.

"Duri.. would've liked this place I think. I just miss a little"

Not a lie. It's not a lie he kept some things to himself. Was it?

"We'll be okay Cahaya"

No they wouldn't. No he wouldn't. Not after this, not after everything the Light Spirit had done and would keep doing. Not even after death.

"You are my precious tool, there's nothing to worry about. Just do as your told and I promise you'll get what you need"

Need.. what did Solar even need or want anymore.

Manipulation freaking manipulation

RETAKKKAAAAAASAAAAAAAAAAA

Sheesh, Retakka is so- menacing?? So- malicious?? So- just- i want to push him

Cahaya and trauma!!! He will never eescape it in this blog

This is such a wonderful beautiful fic

Would it be bad if i made this canon to this au??

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

Disability Pride Month - Narcissism

(red sentences are my particular thoughts/reactions to situations and not verified studies. Yeah, I guess I'ma be frank and let you see I'ma little fucking bitch. Enough with my mask.) Reminder that narcissism isn't a personality trait and that it's a disorder. A true narcissist cannot help it. It doesn't make our behavior okay, but just like a schizophrenic person can't help their delusional behavior, a narcissist can't help that we have an elevated sense of self worth. It's incredibly rude and hurtful to use the word as a quirky personality trait. Use our term correctly. Narcissistic people often seem extremely confident, but in reality we're highly unsure of ourselves and have extremely low self worth and break at the smallest nitpicks. We have a tendency to cling to people in a show off way, but mainly because we like these people and we want to impress them. Because we're trying to be "better" but also because we're so desperate to be good enough for them, that it comes across as being better than thou type of situation. Someone can say something like "I had ___ experience" and we try to one up it. Not just because we want to be better, but because we don't want you to lose interest. It's a fear factor of losing someone we care about because "we're not good enough/interesting enough." because they had a slightly more interesting situation. That leads onto the fear of rejection. If someone dislikes us, unlike most people being able to "oh well, they weren't worth my time anyways" and shrug it off, it becomes an end of the world situation for a narcissistic individual. Why wasn't I good enough? What haven't I done? Why am I not good enough? Just because narcissists are full of themselves and have elevated self worth, that doesn't mean they don't have guilt and shame for things. In fact, for me, guilt and shame takes up a LOT of my mental space and makes me feel the need to be BETTER than others to compensate for it. I find myself going "shit why'd I brag about that in that moment?" And I over react, and the cycle continues. We have a really hard time being vulnerable. We don't like to share our little secrets. We don't want to seem weak or imperfect, and what other way to do that than to say "Oh yeah I was just crying the other day because blah blah blah" no why would we say we were crying? Can't let you know we're crying, that lets you know that we finally broke down over something, and that gives you a chance to break us down more. It's our job to make you feel like you can break down into our arms and why we're your "only safe space" because we're a greedy bastard and we'll be jealous and honestly really hurt for some reason if you have any others. One thing I feel I don't have space to talk about along side other narcissists is emotions since despite being diagnosed with narcissism, I'm highly empathetic towards others and will literally sob over things people tell me even if I don't know what to do, so I'll speak from an entirely research based response here. (Though, my psychologist does say that empathetic narcissists are a thing, and that's what he diagnosed me as, so lol) Anyways, many narcissists have a hard time keeping up relationships because they lack empathy. I'd say that's the only reason I HAVE any decent relationships with anybody, because really, I'm a fucking bitch. I mean, I'd defend you or something, but the first thought through my head would also be "what about me though" Sorry about the long rant, but yeah. Stop misusing the word narcissist/narcissism. We may not be right, but we can't help it either. Best we can do is go the therapy. (also, I'm sure there's plenty of typos, if so I apologize.)

[touchtranscendslanguage]

is there anyway for us to know what each of their magic is? like we know that virge has fear and lightning magic, but what about everyone elses?

you dont have to answer, i just really enjoy the story line and the writting, and i wanted to know a bit more about the characters :)

First off: Sorry it took me so long to answer this, tumblr did not notify me that I had an ask.

Second: Please excuse any typos I'm still on vacation and using my phone to type. I finished writing this right after getting back from vacation and am running on little sleep.

Third: thank you so much! I always love hearing that people like my writing especially the story line and I'm so glad you want to know more about the characters!

Fourth: I don't have all of the character's powers fully fleshed out, but let's see what I can tell you.

More below the cut because this got looong

Okay, so you've got Virgil's lightning and fear magic down.

The fear magic doesn't work on other witches who have protections up or someone whose mind has been warded somehow (not easy to do). He can sense people's fears and insert new fears into someone. The most concentrated fear he can give people is fear of himself. General and simple fears can be given from a distance. The more complex the fear, the closer he has to be until it reaches the point that he has to be touching the person. A permanent phobia also requires touch.

Using mental magic on someone also depends on whether or not they're another magic user, how strong their protections are (if they have any), how receptive they are to the magic, how often the witch has used mental magic on them in the past, and how familiar the witch is with them. For example, it gets easier for Virgil to share complex fears with Janus as the story progresses.

Virgil can also take fears away which he doesn't do often. He believes that fear is vital to a person's survival and that taking it away can have disastrous consequences. He will, however, lessen detrimental fears and phobias sometimes.

In addition, Virgil can cause anxiety and panic attacks, but he can't get rid of them. At least, not entirely. He can push them off for later. This doesn't always work for him.

Virgil's lightning magic is pretty straightforward. He can turn any cloud into a storm cloud and maybe even move clouds around to summon lightning from (I can't decide if that last part is overkill). His body is also a source of lightning with more electricity than average being generated from his body. He can shoot blots of lightning from himself and can electrocute people with touch.

Janus's magic is deception, healing, and secret-keeping.

Deception magic includes illusions, lie detection, and manipulation.

Janus's illusions can affect all five senses and can be nearly impossible to "see" through when he's at full power. At full power, they can withstand skepticism making it so that even when you know they aren't real they won't go away. Smell and taste are the easiest illusions with sound coming in third and sight and touch being the hardest.

Lie detection is complicated. It tells Janus how much of a lie something is as well as which parts are a lie. Not just lies he hears, but ones he sees, too. To an extent. Janus knows you're in disguise. He can also sense illusions.

Janus's manipulation is convincing people of things that aren't real. He specializes in comforting lies, though he can be vicious when he wants to be. It's great for getting his brothers out of trouble when they fuck up.

Janus's healing magic's speed depends on the severity of the wound. He can patch up just about anything. All it takes is touch and a bit of concentration. He insists on kissing Virgil to heal him because he's a dramatic gay.

Secret keeping magic consists of silencing and suppression magic.

Yes, silencing magic includes covering one's mouth with their own hand. What can I say, that's a classic. Janus can put a lock on certain facts, words, and concepts so that the person in question can't say them or communicate them in any other way. If they try the hand thing happens. The hand over their mouth isn't what's stopping them, it's symbolic.

I haven't worked out distances for silencing magic.

Suppression magic is exactly what it sounds like. It suppresses memories. Depending on various variables such as distance, Janus's health, protections, etc. the suppressed memories can sometimes be triggered into being remembered. He can also know what a person's suppressed memories are (if he looks for them) and can unsuppress them.

A side note on mental magic: it's amazing how easily a fae can use their witch magic on someone if they have their name. Rules get bent and sometimes broken when combining witch magic and name magic.

Both of the twins have creation magic. They can create things out of thin air, though most of the time it takes a good amount of concentration. Some things that they've created many times and are more familiar with are easier to create. Hence, Roman only creating a duplicate of his sword during his fight with Virgil.

The things the twins create have to be imagined very specifically or else they won't turn out right if they get made at all. They can't just make a house, they have to know where each brick is and what it's made of. They need to know what kind of wood the doors are made of, exactly how big the fireplace is, what glue is holding the wallpaper up, etc.

Roman specializes in creating fanciful things while Remus specializes in creating more taboo things. Hence, their monikers. It's really just personal preference, they can each make anything they can imagine.

Remus also has mind reading/telepathic magic. Mind reading can be a bit more complicated than most people think. Some people think in images. Some people can't mentally visualize things. Some people don't think much at all. However a person thinks Remus can tap into their thoughts.

Remus can also push his own thoughts into other people's minds giving them literal intrusive thoughts. He does not always use this power for good.

Like most mental magic Remus can't use this magic on people who have protections in place or are warded.

In addition to creation magic Roman has magic related to hopes, dreams, and romance.

Not only does he know people's hopes, dreams, and romantic feelings he can manipulate them, too. Roman can build hopes and dreams and destroy them just as easily. He can be cupid or make you fall out of love with just skin-to-skin contact and a bit of focus. (Honestly I think Roman's powers are the most terrifying).

Patton has empathic and unreality magic.

Patton can sense other people's emotions even through protections. Protections can, however, stop him from manipulating emotion. Long distance it's temporary, but with physical contact he can do permanent damage.

Patton's empathic magic only works for certain emotions. Basically happiness and sadness as well as most emotions related to those two. I think.

Like Virgil, Patton understands the importance of feeling emotions - even the "bad" ones (he's a fucking hypocrite but what can you do) so he doesn't tend to go around eliminating people's sadness. Just tries to reign it in a little. But like with Virgil he can only put off his own sadness for later. I haven't decided if the same thing happens when he does it to other people.

Unreality magic is quite terrifying. It's making things cease to exist. Just gone. Forever. I hate to compare it to Thanos's snap but that's basically what it is. And yes, he can do it to people, but it takes a lot out of him.

Logan's magic I've thought about the least. It definitely includes some kind of magic that allows him to learn things faster and/or easier. And he has negation magic. He can negate anyone else's magic.

Remy actually wasn't born a witch. His magic was a faerie godfather gift from Thomas. As such, he only has one type of magic. Sleep magic.

Remy controls people's ability to sleep. I haven't thought very far into the details of that.

Thomas has many kinds of magic. Dude's a magic hoarder. No, really. The magic he was born with? Magic theft. He has the ability to steal other witchs' magic. Once he takes it they don't have it anymore. If he takes all of their magic they are no longer witches and they lose everything that came with the classification including immortality.

Okay, I'm really tired right now and this has gotten ridiculously long so I'm ending it here. I have one more post to make tonight and then I'm headed to bed. Forgive me for not proofreading most of this

[todayesterday]

hi! so there's this quote from this video that i found rather interesting: “an interesting comparison i like to make is bts have quite possibly become the antithesis of the beatles—a band that once started off with this manufactured sweetheart pop music but in their later releases experimented with texture and genre fusion because they had the means and resources to do so. they shifted the music industry in how people perceived boybands but instead bts are feeding right into it.”

i'm not even gonna get into the fact that the beatles were more than just manufactured bubblegum pop from 64-66 but thoughts?

oh boy... well, that is certainly An Opinion. and i certainly have Many Opinions on this too. so now that you mention it, here they go. you've endulged me, now prepare for my VERY LONG hot takes on bts' recent comebacks and recent career and how it compares to the beatles' later years (fair warning, i'm very bitter about hybe and i have very strong feelings about bts' management, so). and i love talking about their career in relation to the beatles, so bare with me here, i could talk about this for days on end.

i watched the entire bts part of the video and, beatles comparisson aside (i'll talk about this in a minute), i agree with every single word. it is UTTERLY frustrating to me, as someone who fell in love with bts's music for their incredibly unique and varied discography, to witness what they career has come to in 2021. i find it so hard to come to terms with the fact that the group has some of the most talented songwriters i've seen (namjoon's lyrics in particular are phenomenal and so full of substance), plus some very creative producers, such as hoseok and yoongi who clearly care about music very much - and some rising musicians too, like taehyung who has been doing a great job of writing and producing -, and such unique vocals has come to... that. generic pop that is a very obvious attempt to produce a hit, regardless of meaning or substance substance. really, the only word that comes to my mind is frustration, because i am positive that they can do SO much better than butter and PTD (and i don't even hate the songs btw, and dynamite i really love) if they're given the creative opportunity, and be is proof of that. so it bothers me to no end how this is what we are stuck with.

now, i can only imagine that this direction is not one really chosen by bts themselves, at least not fully. because those songs are not songs, they are business decisions (and bad decisions, at that). and hybe does the business decisions. i'm not saying that the boys don't have any authonomy or whatever, but some things (mainly namjoon's live he did on youtube after dynamite got #1, plus some weverse interviews) do make me think they're not totally happy with this direction either. watching them in those BE-hind interviews they did with each other, all of them talked about how into music they were, how they wanted to explore other genres, their relationship to songwriting, etc - to me, right then at the end of 2020 they seemed almost more connected to music-making then i've ever seen them before. so it came as a shock to me when all we got in 2021, after such a personal album - and after such a wonderful array of albuns and songs since their debut - were two comercial, soulless, generic pop songs. because bts is anything but soulless and that's what irks me.

really, it's been hard being a bts stan recently because of how much this makes me just *sigh*. because i love them for their art and their music, and hybe recently only ever uses them as models for overpriced merch and advertisements - that has been their main occupation in 2021. and i don't think that it is because they have regressed as songwriters or musicians, but because hybe's vision of what bts is has changed. and that's what i think the biggest difference lies between bts and the beatles when it comes to the progression of their career.

you see, i think that hybe is stuck in a very tight situation that they're handling the worst possible way. as bighit, they had only bts as their only chance, their lifeboat. bang pd had his philosophy of authenticity and Being True To Music, and he got lucky with finding the perfect people to carry it through. plus, they were a smaller house, i don't even think he'd have the money to hire overseas producers when they were working on their first albuns, so it was a process that i imagine was a lot more intimate and open than whatever went on with their latest singles. however, with bts, bh (and bang pd) always had their Extra Content, bring-bts-close-to-the-fans strategy. and of course that worked, the boys managed to gather the very loyal fanbase that we have today. but the thing is, as bts rose to success, i have the very strong impression that pd convinced himself that it happened because of the extra content, because of run bts, etc - and not because of the honesty of their music. i think it was in that harvard report that he said that he believes bh found the 'formula for success' with bts, citing the extra shows, the social media, etc. and so, as bts took over the world, hybe seems to have convinced themselves that they are to blame, and not bts. plus, they realised that they can make so much money out of them, but they also need to diversify their income as well.

now, the tight situation that i mentioned is explained by three main things.

they are obviously seen as The BTS Company

they don't want to be seen as The BTS Company, because what the hell will they do when bts ends? so they have now a bunch of other groups too. and social network. and everything else they can get, because they're DESPERATE to make money that isn't directly bts-related

at the same time, they CAN'T lose bts revenue, because none of their groups or enterprises make nearly as much as bts makes them.

in short, to me, it is a very clear goose that lays the golden eggs situation.

they want bts to become mainstream in the usa, and they want bts to get a grammy (probably desperate for it because it might mean that bts will get an exemption from the millitary, which would mean that they'd be around longer to make them money), and they're apparently willing to do anything for it. but at the same time, they don't want bts to be their only thing, because, well, the military. whatever will they do if bts stays away for two years!

now, as i said, i believe that hybe thinks that bts' success is due to their management, their ideas and their formula. and they seem to think that commercial success = easy pop, because that's what bts put out when they did the biggest breakthroughs of their career (boy with luv in 2019 and dynamite in 2020). so, naturally, when they had dynamite and it was such a smash hit, they thought, well, he hit the golden pot guys! this is it! and it probably didn't help that the sales were absolutely huge and they probably made so much money off it. they learned that the hot 100 is a very lucrative thing and they barely have to do anything for it, just release the song and army will buy it to oblivion to get the boys the #1. and don't get me wrong, i loved seeing them getting that #1, it's a very important landmark, but... what does it say, really? after the first two ones?

so there's another important point to the story, army's consuming power. army will buy anything, anything at all, music or otherwise. if the singles are in english that's a bit amplified, sure, but i don't think that hybe understands that most fans don't care about what language it is, and the general public doesn't care for generic pop. hybe is still trying to break the mainstream barrier while trying to keep fans engaged and ends up not really appealing to anybody. but, if they think that songs like ptd and butter are what's going to get them money (and they haven't been proven wrong), then they certainly won't release a song like tomorrow or butterfly as their main single. and they make so much money. they own bts in its entirety, so they can do what they want, basically. that's why they put so much merch out. they're not interested anymore in authentic music, they want to grow and have more things and more fancy buildings and grow and grow. they're a billionaire corporation now, and so they hire whatever producers they think will write the biggest hit, they do what they have to do to keep the ~winning streak~.

of course, they missed the mark completely. they're killing their goose of golden eggs. but, as of yet, they're only killing it creatively (and its musical reputation, tbh, but again, i don't think they care), because the money keeps coming in. did you see the amount of pointless merch they released last year? the amount of advertisement bts worked on? they sold bts water. music isn't a priority in their agenda anymore. but how does that work? bts are musicians.

as i said earlier, during be they showed signs to be super involved and eager to create music, to write, to produce. how come so many members have been writing mixtapes for the past two years, writing music, producing, and we haven't had a crumb of really authentic music from them all year? did their talents just vanish from thin air? how come?? we're going to have a jungkook song produced by yoongi for that pointless webtoon instead of putting it on an actual album. like, why??????????? we haven't had a yoongi produced song in SO long. and he's a well-renowed producer. but no, let's treat him like a model. this makes me so furious, honestly.

and that's where i think the comparisson with the beatles pales a bit. it is not wrong, necessarily, but i think the situations are very different, and i think it's kind of unfair to say that bts became what they said they wouldn't be.

to me, the thing that differentiates the situations is that the beatles formed, in the very start, a really strong bond with a single producer who they trusted and who trusted them, and with a team who recognized their talent for what it was and was prepared to let them do their thing. of course, kpop is a completely different industry than the 1960s british rock scene; however, putting that aside and talking only about music, i think that is a big part of why bts "regressed". in actuality i don't think they regressed: i believe that they are simply not given the space and chance to evolve.

with the beatles, george martin was really only theirs. they had a BUNCH of problems with contracts and with emi and shit, of course, but abbey road and george martin were there to let them go and do their shit. they trusted them to put out music that wasn't "common", they saw that they were huge and let them go for it. the bigger they got, the more trust and control they had over their creative decisions, and the more security they had to go and do things like what they did on the white album. by that point, they had their people, george martin knew how to work with them, they were making SO much money and nobody was really scared that it was going to flop or what the public would think. and the fact that they were english helped them to gain and secure that space, because it is true that the mainstream USA media doesn't care for anything else other than american and english people - and apart from the "we don't care about british people" attitude of the early-60s, the beatles were never really outsiders. not in the way bts is. so, essentially, they could go and do whatever they wanted, and they knew that. so they did.

with bts, the opposite happened. firstly, they don't have the security. even though they are huge, they're still outsiders to the music industry - so the company (and themselves too, in a way) is probably scared of scaring the public away in a way the beatles/EMI/apple were not. secondly, they don't have a team who is ready to ensure that they have creative freedom, and they don't have a secure team to work with them. to me it's pretty clear that hybe is more concerned with their business and making sure they're selling than they are with bts doing the music they want - and they made the most money when bts put out ptd and butter and etc, probably. that's the opposite of what george martin meant to the beatles creatively. in their recent singles (and we know it's hybe who decides that), they worked with american producers that they probably have never met before - that can't be a safe environment to be open and vulnerable about their music or to try something bold or experimental. additionally, if they spend so much time doing adds, recording stupid merch videos, working on a goddamn webtoon that has nothing to do with their art at all or games or whatever unrelated project hybe has, how are they going to have time to sit down and develop their art? the beatles stopped touring to dedicate to music in the height of their career. bts became full-time models because their ads probably give bang pd so much money he shits his pants just thinking about it. george martin never cared about john wearing fila for ads or whatever - because that wasn't such a thing then. EMI certainly wanted to make money off them, but things were different.

now, i have to clarify that i don't know for sure where does bts stand in this, and yes, they do make money too from all those things i mentioned. but not even nearly as much as bh does. and, to be honest, i don't see a world where people who care about music and art (and we know they do) and find themselves in this situation wouldn't be frustrated and angry about it. in interviews they have talked about questioning all of this, namjoon in particular, seokjin too.

i think this is, in general, a very telling tale of what the music industry has come to from the 60s to now, with mainstream artists (not only bts, i think this applies to a lot of people) really having become products and the objects of advertisement, hostages to what the creative industry as a whole has become with hypermodernity and the Internet as we so have it. it goes in line with what tiktok is doing to music, what instagram and algorhythms have done to art, and so on and so forth. it does raise the question of whether the beatles would have had the creative freedom they had back then if they were artists nowadays, and to that i haven't got an answer, but i think it's interesting to wonder. what if, instead of having time to record revolver or sgt pepper's, the beatles were stuck recording ads for partner brands that they are legally obliged to do? the paralells between the two groups fascinate me so much that my literal master's dissertation will be about this very thing, the differences in the consolidation of both of them as global icons in their different contexts and cultures.

as for bts, i just think it's such a shame to see it come to this. i think they have so much potential, creatively. they have so much talent, such great songs, and they could do many other things. they could release whatever they wanted and so many people would still love and support it. i think hybe is making a huge, huge mistake with all of this. they can't produce another bts, and they're putting a serious strain on the one they do have. and i don't think the problem is the english, but they soullessness of the songs they chose. because we didn't choose to love bts because they are cute, or because of run bts. we choose them because we resonate with them, because we fell in love with their music, with them as people, and not with whatever vision some american producer/songwriter has of what they think bts is.

i'm curious to see where 2022 will lead us, with them. there's apparently an album coming. i don't have any expectations for the single, but we'll see. i just want them to be free to create, honestly. i miss them and their music very much, and i wish dearly that they were in another situation because they're not a golden eggs goose, they are people who love art and who love to express themselves through it. i hope that's what they get to do, once this webtoon and merch nonsense is over. they deserve a safe space to create. they deserve their hearts and their voices to shine through, as they have always done.

[meemawmilo]

꒰ ָ֢ ׁ 𓈒 venti ◌ hcs ׁ 𓈒 𝆬 ꒱

𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊

-modern highschool au

♡ You can not look me dead in the eye and tell me that he wouldn't be the biggest troublemaker ever.

♡ I genuinely believe that he'd use he/they pronouns. Like change my mind and all, but I can just see it.

♡ Not sure if this is obvious or not, but winking for him is > . Winking in photos, winking at friends, just winking in general. Not to the point he overuses it, but uses them a lot more than majority of people

♡ Kind of like the first point, but tell me he isn't the most mischievous mf alive. Like I genuinely believe chaos is something that in any other normal au he'd gravitate towards.

♡ Probably gets a lot of bitches. Like he's probably had at the very least ten people come up to him and ask for his snap or something, thinking he's a girl.

♡ I can definitely see people being gay for him though.

♡ Would most likely be decently popular. I mean, he's a well-known bard so it makes sense that the popularity would join him in a highschool au.

♡ I can see him being an entertainment source and thriving off the attention.

♡ Underage drinker. Do I need to elaborate.

♡ I can see him with at least one or two fucked up relationships. It just crossed my mind, but eh.

♡ I can imagine that if you do get his number, the texts will be things like ' hey, did we get any hw in music theory todya '. Typo intended. And asking for random meetups, so that he just doesn't have to pay.

♡ I can see him jokingly saying yes to a lot of shit for the laughs of it. Definitely been in a lot of serious trouble for it.

♡ I'm sorry for this one, but imagine him starting this half cared for hate page for the school he goes to. Like, Venti. School hate page. Sorry, but that's funny as hell-

♡ Also, shameless self promo, but if you're looking for an actual ff with a little troublemaker Venti, my AO3's for you. I'm straight up positive that it hasn't been thought of before; talking the whole plot I made in general. *

♡ If you saw my last ( and first ) tumblr post, no you didn't. Lmao.

♡ * The plot's pretty much a performing arts school, full or theatre kids and all of that kinds of stuff, the more creative part of things. Insert a troublemaker Venti and a troublemaker Reader causing chaos on stage. Check the ff to find out more. ;)

♡ And if you're unaware ( probably ) my AO3 is ANGELD8ST.

♡ I'm new to Tumblr, but not new to writing. This is a shared account, and it's Qilin writing here. I can not guarantee that the person I share this account with won't also post things, so as clarification, I write and post things about Genshin Impact, Toilet bound Hanako san, and maybe other sorts of animes. I only write for TBHK and Genshin at the moment. ♡ For requests, just leave a comment. I'll be sure to read it.

♡ But for now, that's all from me. Thank you for reading, bye bye. Notes are always appreciated. <3

[starfishthestarfish]

Late Night Devil [Part 1]

Police Officer! Seonghwa x Gangster!Hongjoong

Summary: "Never in all my life have I met such a hot officer... Makes me doubt if I should give myself up already." Seonghwa's breath hitched at each word, eyes fixated on Hongjoong's fingers while they traveled south, reaching his belt. "May I?" He asked, looking through long lashes to the older boy, a playful glint in his empty eyes and a mischievous grin plastered on his flushed face.

Word count: 3987

Chapter Warnings: NSFW/Minors DNI, drug mentions (as a business), guns, mentions of murder, blood, tiiiiny bit of bloodplay, bit of facefucking, blowjob, cum eating, rough sex, handcuffs, anal fingering, anal play, anal fucking, overstimulation if you squint, idk if I'm forgetting smth, ok bye.

1. TAKE YOUR STUFF @hiimnicki05

2. In other notes, I'm so sorry for taking so long and being inactive. I have the full story written out for this one, so no cutting out this time. (For those who follow First and Last Soulmate :,D)

3. I haven't done any grammar/spelling check so excuse any typos.

4. My Google history looks like I've just shoot someone and now I'm trying to revive them :v

5. I'm sorry if some stuff doesn't make sense, but nothing makes sense in the fiction world, so. :D

6. Couldn't think of any other title, sorry.

7. Last thing, I swear. Sets place during Deja Vu era ig? and I was inspired to write this story after listening to Gunshot by KARD, in case you wanna hear it.

"...looks like the drug business is a lot more profitable than I thought..." Seonghwa broke the silence while sitting down on the bed and taking off his black tie, watching the other boy opening the first aid box the hotel staff had provided him. Hongjoong chuckled lightly.

"Never imagined I'd hear a police officer saying that." Hongjoong scoffed, taking out some gauze pads and a bottle of saline solution. "Less from one who nearly arrested me. Twice."

At the police station, Kim Hongjoong's name was close to the top in the most wanted criminals list. His gang, leaded by him, had established their turf around most of the city, their main business being drug dealing but didn't limit itself to that. Robbing, street races and arms trafficking were some other of their crimes. Not to mention Hongjoong himself took part in various murders as gangs didn't follow the city's rules but their own rules; justice was done by their own hands. But in a city where murder is condemned with murder by law, criminals like him were prosecuted insanely. Seonghwa had previously tried catching him, his neat, perfect plans to corner him failing even if it might've been close. Hongjoong was too smart, he was the leader of his gang for some reason.

It made him majorly frustrated, and maybe that's way he didn't think it twice when he saw Hongjoong that night, even if he tried to motion him to leave back in that dark alley. Obviously, his awareness and tense moves should've alerted the police but instead he stepped right in to try and catch him, aiming his gun at him but failing once again when a bullet from the opposite gang brushed against his chest. After both managed to escape, Hongjoong could've easily shot him down in the spot. Seonghwa had some type of obsession to catch him, and he could get rid of his plans and him easily. But even though Hongjoong had killed before, he only killed when his close friends' or his own life was in danger. Seonghwa was a new officer and he was entertaining, he would let him think he had caught him only to escape so easily. It was like playing an eternal game of the cat chasing the mouse, the police in front of him thinking he was in the winning side. For him, he wasn't any type of threat. So instead of leaving him there with a wound in his chest, he took him back with him with the condition of not saying a word about where were they going AND giving him his own weapon, radio and phone, along with some other stuff that might compromise him.

Seonghwa really thought Hongjoong was stupid enough to take him to his own place if he followed him, maybe that was why he acceded. Maybe he was the only stupid one here for following a criminal who most likely wanted to get rid of him. To his relief and disappointment, Hongjoong took him to a rather expensive hotel room. The place was nearly empty except for the staff due to it being late at night, but it still was incredible how the staff didn't know about Hongjoong, about these criminals; they treated him like some other normal person. They were all oblivious to what happened in the crime world.

"I was just doing my job." Seonghwa answered, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink when the younger one kneeled in between his legs to take off the black vest and begin unbuttoning his black shirt. Hongjoong's eyes swiftly looked at the name tag while doing so. Park Seonghwa. He smiled to himself as he finished exposing the older's chest.

It surely was a very suggestive sight, and he scolded his own mind for imagining such things. Seonghwa tried focusing on something else in the meanwhile, deciding on the orange hair the younger one sported. It looked soft, and it made his hand itch to comb back the short bangs. He jumped slightly at the light sting when Hongjoong tapped the gauze pad carefully against the scratch.

"...it doesn't look as bad as I thought, blood makes it scandalous. I thought you'd need stitches." Hongjoong murmured without looking at him. Seonghwa hummed, trying to stay still as the other one finished. He didn't look at him anymore, wondering instead if the station would track down his phone and if he should tell Hongjoong about it. When he least noticed, Hongjoong finished patching the micropore tape over the bandage. He looked back down, expecting the younger one to get up. Instead, black nails trailed south, grazing the skin in their way.

"Never in all my life have I met such a hot officer..." Hongjoong muttered. "Makes me doubt if I should give myself up already." Seonghwa's breath hitched at each word, eyes fixated on the latter's fingers until they reached his belt. "May I?" Hongjoong asked, looking through long lashes to the older boy, a playful glint in his empty eyes and a mischievous grin plastered on his flushed face. Seonghwa cursed under his breath, unable to resist the offer. He nodded, looking back at the other boy's eyes.

Hongjoong's grin grew bigger as he began unbuckling the belt, fingers fidgeting to undo the buttons and unzip his pants right after. He pulled at the underwear waistband, freeing the elder’s cock to begin stroking it immediately with one hand. He gave an experimental lick right over the sensitive slit, earning a gasp from Seonghwa and making him grip on the edge of the bed from the sudden contact. He moaned, watching as the younger one pushed the tip right into his warm mouth, sucking softly as if it were some candy, resisting the urge to throw his head back to keep on looking at the scene between his legs. Pink lips stretched around his cock as Hongjoong pushed his head down, small hand not big enough to wrap around his length completely as it slowly grew bigger by the minute.

Seonghwa bucked his hips, too desperate from the younger's slow pace. He pushed deep down at once into the other's warm, wet throat, groaning at the feeling and surprised when Hongjoong didn't move away even when he gagged around him. Instead, he sucked harder, swallowing from time to time around his length.

"Shit..." Seonghwa groaned once again, placing one hand over the orange hair to grip slightly, just to hold on to. He nearly whined when Hongjoong pulled his cock out of his mouth, licking his lips and clearing his throat.

"You can set the pace; I like it rough." He told him, referring to the controlled grip Seonghwa kept on his hair.

Fuck, this boy was temptation itself. How did he even end up here after aiming his gun so many times at him? The same criminal he had desperately tried catching the past month was kneeling right in between his legs, blowing him. Destiny's ways were crazy.

Seonghwa didn't waste more time as he gripped harder on the orange hair, pushing his own cock back down the younger's throat. He bucked his hips into the tight heat, groaning at the way his throat continuously tightened around hin each time he gagged.

It didn't take long for that knot to begin appearing, tightening with each time Hongjoong's nose touched the skin below his belly. The younger one just closed his eyes, enjoying the stretch in his throat provided by Seonghwa's cock. Seonghwa was sure that if his mouth wasn't stuffed with cock, he'd be smiling.

"H-Hongjoong..." Seonghwa moaned as a warning, close to his release. He threw his head back, gripping impossibly harder onto the orange hair but movements becoming sloppy. Hongjoong began working his head down instead, sucking once again and twirling his tongue around. With a last gasp and a few thrusts of his hips, Seonghwa released his cum into Hongjoong's throat.

Hongjoong did his best in swallowing the bitter but tasty substance, pulling Seonghwa's still half hard cock out of his mouth to lick the remainings that spilled out of his mouth and onto his lips. Seonghwa let go of his hair while panting, and Hongjoong took the opportunity to stand up and hold a tight grip on his jaw before kissing him.

Seonghwa couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the unexpected action, the younger one's tongue sliding immediately into his mouth within seconds of beginning the kiss. It was sloppy, desperate and messy, addicting at the least which made Seonghwa pull him closer. He could taste the bitter remainings of his seed in Hongjoong's mouth, blushing at the flavor.

Hongjoong's grip softened until he was cupping Seonghwa's face in his hand, pulling him impossibly closer while straddling his lap.

At least half of Seonghwa's senses where gone by now. He still was aware that one of the most wanted criminals was sitting in his lap, devouring his mouth. He didn't know where to set his hands on other than the one on his nape, didn't know if he was allowed to touch. Was it too late to push him off? More importantly, did he want to push him?

He moaned when Hongjoong bit his lower lip, hard. Hard enough to make it hurt, to want to pull away but he still moaned. Within a few seconds, he tasted the metallic flavor of blood. He had actually drawn blood, and fuck, did that turn him on even more. It was as if the last string broke, because his hand dropped from his nape to slip them both down the outline of Hongjoong's curves, not bothering anymore about neither of their statuses. He was just going to enjoy what was happening right now. It's not as if it was going to repeat itself anyways, right?

Hongjoong was the one who pulled pulled away from the kiss first, panting. "...Getting bolder, officer...?" His hands roamed down Seonghwa's exposed chest, just before pushing him without care to lay him down. He stared for a few seconds at the older's new look; lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed down and dark eyes. He smiled and bended over him, attaching his lips onto Seonghwa's neck, nibbling softly at the tanned skin. Seonghwa arched his neck to a side, sighing from time to time and hands sliding lower, down his thighs. He stopped when he felt the leg harness around his left thigh, the one holding his holster. He didn't plan on taking the gun, but he would feel more relieved if the gun was out of the way. When he tried reaching out for the gun's handle to pull it out, he felt Hongjoong's grip around his wrist.

"No, nobody touches my gun. Especially not you." Hongjoong murmured, pressing a kiss against his jawline. He slipped the gun out of its holster and threw it away to the floor. He immediately went back to leaving small, red bites on the other's skin until he was turned over on his back and pinned down. He yelped at the action, eyes widening before relaxing under the officer's soothing touch. He couldn't take his gun anymore anyways, it was way too far from the bed. So instead, he closed his eyes, hands combing back Seonghwa's black hair before gripping on it while Seonghwa went back to kissing him.

The kiss was much shorter this time, Seomghwa pulling away within a few seconds. Hongjoong felt the officer's hands pull at his wrist to untangle his fingers from the black mop of hair, while leaving a trail of wet kisses from his jaw down his throat. He sucked particularly right over the beauty mark on his neck, pushing the younger's hands above his head.

Hongjoong gasped when he heard a click, looking above to see handcuffs around his wrists, locking him to the headboard. Where did he have those? He swore he took them away from him earlier. Seonghwa didn't seem to bother, his hands slipping below Hongjoong's navy blue shirt and travelling around the smooth skin.

"...S-Seonghwa..." Hongjoong looked back at the older boy, a tingle of panic in his voice. Seonghwa lifted up his shirt, bunching it right under his armpits and latching his mouth to one of the hardening nipples, sucking softly. Hongjoong let out a whiny moan, arching his back against the other's mouth and closing his eyes, not really sure about how to catch his attention. Seonghwa sucked harder, long tongue twirling around the sensitive bud. One hand went to roll his other nipple between his index finger and thumb, tugging it from time to time. Hongjoong's moans progressively grew louder, and he tried pulling on the handcuffs to let go and cover himself at the increasing sensitiveness on his chest. He wasn't sure it he felt aroused or scared at the cuffs. He wouldn't mind it being a bed play but he was a wanted criminal and he was successfully handcuffed by a police who he didn't know if he'd arrest him after pleasing himself. "Seonghwa!" He managed to shout in between his moans, trashing a bit from side to side and attempting to close his arms in front of him. Seonghwa halted his actions, looking back at him and humming back in response, lips slick and dark brown eyes blown. Panting, Hongjoong looked up at the cuffs and pulled a bit on them, making the chain jingle. He looked back at Seonghwa, hoping he would get the message and ready to speak if he didn't. Seonghwa in response kissed his chest before looking back at him.

"Trust me..." He mumbled, hands rubbing at his waist to soothe him.

"Trust you?!" That was the only thing Hongjoong could blurt out. That was something he couldn't ask for, Seonghwa was the specific officer who chased him around!

Seonghwa hummed once again, nodding while unbuckling the gangster's belt. "Just like I trusted you to not kill me when I followed you. I won't arrest you."

He had a point; but to be honest, if Hongjoong had been Seonghwa, he wouldn't have followed himself to a hotel in the middle of the night.

"We can go back to being enemies tomorrow." Seonghwa finally sighed upon seeing Hongjoong's hesitating stare. The criminal's eyes looked around for a moment before he let his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes. Seonghwa smiled, leaving a peck on Hongjoong's milky white tummy. He finished unbuckling the belt, pulling his pants down along with his underwear while Hongjoong lifted up his hips to ease the action. His cock hit his abdomen, red and hard from previous stimulation.

Now having his whole lower body naked, Seonghwa pushed Hongjoong's thighs up against his chest to gain a better access to his small hole. He came a bit closer, his hole clenching around nothing before spitting over it and watching his saliva slowly being swallowed inside. Hongjoong whimpered at the feeling, and Seonghwa hushed him while pushing in a finger.

"I'll take care of you..." Seonghwa said right before kissing one of his inner thighs. Hongjoong moaned at the stretch, biting his lower lip harshly when Seonghwa slowly pushed in a second finger. He scissored them, opening him up, fingers rubbing against his walls and tugging against his rim while he only gasped and whined helplessly. He arched his back off the bed and was close to screaming when Seonghwa curled his fingers inside of him, finger pads pressing against that sensitive nerve. He writhed on the bed, moaning and unsure if he wanted to get away from the torturing pleasure or try to gain more friction on that area as Seonghwa pushed a third finger inside. He kept on kissing his inner thighs, occasionally leaving some red love bites. The tenderness of his kisses, the rough pace of his fingering; He felt the knot starting to tighten below his stomach and whined, not wanting to cum just yet.

"...N-need... Need you inside..." Hongjoong said in between pants and moans. His body finally relaxed when Seonghwa pulled his fingers out, frustrated too as he climbed down the high he was having.

"Whatever you wish for, pretty boy..." Seonghwa cooed, lining up at his now hard cock against his entrance after pulling his pants further down. Hongjoong blushed hard when he heard the pet name, opening his mouth ready to protest but only a scream came out, back arching off the bed one again and handcuffs jingling from the force he pulled at them. Seonghwa had bottomed out in one go, moaning at the tight feeling. He cursed under his breath, hands gripping on Hongjoong's marked thighs and pushing them against his chest even harder, practically folding him in a half. He kept still for a few seconds, waiting for the younger's reaction. Hongjoong tried steadying his breath as much as he could, whining softly at the sudden stretch despite no movement being done.

Hongjoong finally rolled his hips, signaling the officer to proceed. With the first drag out and harsh thrust back in, Hongjoong gasped as he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and Seonghwa groaned at how hard was Hongjoong clenching around him. He wasn't even sure he would be able to resist for long, the pleasure being too strong to handle.

After both were able to calm down a bit, he began thrusting at a steady rythm, watching how the criminal under him was reduced to a whining mess, small hands tugging continually at the handcuffs.

Seonghwa fastened the pace, beginning with a ruthless thrusting. His grip tightened around his thighs, his fucking becoming less gentle and more brutal each passing second. The bed shook along with the movement, dragging Hongjoong just a bit upwards with each forward thrust. Moans spilled freely out of Hongjoong's mouth as Seonghwa rubbed his prostate over and over again without care, fastly climbing his high once again. He turned his head from side to side, eyes tightly closed as he felt them water and unable to bear the amount of pleasure as he felt himself clinging at the top of his high.

"W-want to c-come..." Hongjoong whined, and Seonghwa couldn't help but kiss him once again. Sloppy, open-mouthed and messy, moans escaping from time to time in between the tongues intertwining. Seonghwa reached down to hold Hongjoong's cock, hand beginning to stroke it immediately. Hongjoong arched his neck, breaking the kiss as he gasped and moaned out Seonghwa's name, cumming over his own stomach.

It actually surprised Seonghwa when he heard him moan out his name, but it also was what made him go over the edge. He moaned with a few last thrusts, spilling his cum inside him.

They both stayed there for a few minutes, trying to catch their breaths. Seonghwa laid his head over the other's chest, listening to the fast heartbeat slowly calm down.

Hongjoong jingled the handcuffs after a while, eyes opening once again. Seonghwa looked up, understanding the message and took the key from one of his pockets, freeing him.

"...Finally..." Hongjoong said, checking the slight red marks on his wrists from tugging. "I see you're a bit kinky..."

Seonghwa let out a chuckle, holding his wrists softly before kissing both of them. The gangster felt heat creeping over his face again and pulled away his hands, choosing to stare at the ceiling to avoid looking into the officer's gaze.

"...I need to go." Hongjoong murmured, eyes still fixated on the ceiling before closing.

"Don't wanna rest for a while?" Seonghwa asked him, staring back at Hongjoong. He immediately regretted asking that, as if fucking him hadn't been dumb enough. He didn't think too much of it as he became lost in admiring Hongjoong's feautures. Long lashes brushing his cheeks, soft blush, sharp nose and uptilted lips. He wanted to kiss him again but considering Hongjoong pulled his hands away, he wasn't sure he'd let him. After a few seconds, Hongjoong shook his head.

"Rest here with you?" He sighed, opening his eyes. He rolled over to be on top, sealing his lips at the movement inside of him. He felt Seonghwa twitch inside of him too, and he sat upright. "I'm not sleeping here with you. I'm either fucking or leaving, so take your pick."

Seonghwa parked around the same alley he had seen Hongjoong last night. He had low hopes of finding the orange haired boy again, but chances weren't nule. He wasn't supposed to either, but he still wished to see him again.

At the end, after two or three rounds, Hongjoong did leave with a slight limp. Seonghwa offered to leave so he could stay and rest, but Hongjoong insisted that his location was known by him and he wouldn't be able to sleep. And Seonghwa couldn't obviously ask him to take him wherever he needed, Hongjoong was paranoid enough about it. Seonghwa did stay in the hotel two or three hours more after he left, processing everything which had happened. He found out he didn't hate Hongjoong as much as he thought. The intriguing criminal did catch his attention since the first time, but obviously; who's attention couldn't he not attract? Hongjoong was intelligent, sarcastic, liked playing around with the authority for fun and overall, he was just so pretty.

Maybe that's why he found himself wanting to see him once again, he was strangely comfortable and amused by him. So now he was slowly pacing around the area, eyes traveling from one building to another. It didn't take too long to find him.

He suddenly felt a gun pointing against his nape, and he froze, lifting his hands in the air.

"How did you know I was here?" He heard the same voice which had moaned for him the previous night right behind him. He turned around slowly, and he couldn't help but smile when he in fact saw Hongjoong aiming his gun at him.

"I didn't know... I just supposed, but I wasn't sure. I don't wanna arrest you, I swear." Seonghwa tried explaining at him, but Hongjoong only raised an eyebrow.

"The police... doesn't wanna arrest me? Well that's new." He chuckled, tilting his head. "I don't trust you a single bit."

"You trusted me yesterday when I handcuffed you to a hotel bed." Seonghwa smiled before yelping when the muzzle hit his head. "Hongjoong-"

"Don't say my name, and stop bothering me!" Hongjoong whined, pushing the muzzle against the older's forehead and forcing him back to his car. "You're just some stupid officer I managed to fuck, and just cause I was nice or pliant for once doesn't mean I'm going to fucking befriend you." Hongjoong spat out just as Seonghwa's back hit his car's door. "You said it, back to enemies today. Now get your ass back into your car and-"

Hongjoong was interrupted when Seonghwa pushed the gun out of his way and pulled him into a kiss, plump lips pressing against his own. It was just yesterday that they had kissed but Hongjoong felt he was feeling them for the first time again, heavenly taste and addicting tongue. He hesitatingly wrapped his arms around the other's neck, one hand still holding his gun. He didn't notice when they shifted positions, now him being the one against the car's door. When Seonghwa pulled away, a string of saliva still connected their tongues.

"...get in the car..." Seonghwa mumbled before kissing his check, hands rubbing at Hongjoong's waist over his shirt. Hongjoong didn't comply, eyes still closed and breathing panting slightly, and that's when he noticed he'd have to explain himself better. "Let's go to a hotel, yeah...?"

And Hongjoong finally nodded, unable to resist the tempting idea of having the beautiful man over him once again. "...but phone... gun... radio", Hongjoong opened his eyes, licking the remaining of Seonghwa's chapstick off his own lips. "Give them to me."

Masterlist

[sparklingpax]

In Relativity

A/n:

-I could not, for the life of me, figure out a better title. You get that. Not even sure if that's what I mean and I'm so sorry. But I am also not taking suggestions

-being absolutely serious, a good 90% of this was written during my health class and/or lunch periods in which I wasn't hungry.

-i am so sorry for typos and grammar stuff I probably fucked up, please please try ignore it if you see it, I'll fix it eventually 😳

-this is so incredibly long, I'm realizing. It's like 30+ pages...sorry--

-a few specific details I'd like to point out:

no, this is not 110% accurate to Masterforce canon, tho I tried my darndest. Part of the reason is lack of clear answers about certain questions I have or limited access to sources that would help me figure out details of their pasts more accurately. The other reason is that I'm also actively choosing not to adhere to some details because I was ultimately writing for fun and experimenting with tone and how I perceive these characters so...do not lecture me about something I screwed up, I am literally just vibing ok

This is still set in Masterforce canon, however. This has nothing (I repeat, nothing) to do with any of the marvel stuff/American comic stuff that involved these characters. It's my understanding that the versions of these characters in Masterforce are their own separate entity to the comic stuff, I am trying to stick only to the anime and stuff connected to that. so....yea

It is my headcanon that I will absolutely keep that the Pretenders have in their files/any technical stuff their "full names" (e.g: "Cloudburst"), but refer to each other with their nicknames (going back to that example, "Phoenix"). It's like, they use both names whenever and don't mind either way. Hence......that.

I wanted to write something about Landmine, literally that was it. I guess overall I'd call it semi-Landmine-centric....Idk but I enjoyed it, he's a cool dude 👀

this is in fact, where i finally reveal myself as a person who also Lowkey ships Lander/Diver and also the idea that they have this...very complicated relationship with each other, which is why they've never really gotten together....I hc that they actually do finally get together at some point during the events of Masterforce (which I also, really want to write). Yes, this is very similar to them in my AU except it's not as complicated as the one in canon. If that makes sense 😳 Also, before you come for my head, it is a healthy relationship in the sense that there has never been any malice between them, and no instances of causing the other serious pain in any way. They like each other a lot, but both don't really know...how to go about it. Idk y'all but ykw I know what I mean. 

I tried so hard with terminology here but my dumb ass doesn't know anything about tech or aircrafts or whatever so...deal with it but don't point it out I'll evaporate--

Upon much consideration, I decided to end it somewhere like, before events of masterforce. I'd say a couple years maybe?? Like 15?? (So tha puts us at 2005, which as I'm writing this omg that's my birth year oop--) So just. assume stuff happened and...following will be the other canon stuff....i guess o//o

So...yea, that should be everything I wanted to mention!

Enjoy (? Or don't? ;w;)....I wrote this for fun & I kinda liked it I guess, so here I am sharing it...lmk what you think if you want, please keep it positive, I get so extremely nervous sharing my writing sdjdsjsdj 😳

...um...so...t-thanks 🥰

That’s what Landmine had been told the first day of Cybertronian Military Academy. 

///

Above all else, a good spark stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right. 

It was a phrase taught and repeated every day without fail, quickly memorized well before the end of first semester in that first year.

And when he’d entered Autobot ranks within mere weeks of his graduation amidst the start of the war, it was a phrase shouted to his unit by their commanding officer, only slightly altered this time. 

“Above all else, a good Autobot stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right.”

Yes, that was it. Just a slight change. 

But he always wondered if it meant to subconsciously induce very particular thoughts.

‘And if we Autobots do good, then the ones who aren’t us must be doing evil.’ 

To name a few of the supposed many, that was the Decepticons, the rogues, and the subspecies of the planet who didn’t feel inclined to participate in such a “selfish conflict,” as one commentator had put it during a newscast. They were the evil ones, preached the drill sergeants and captains.

The logical conclusion, as it could be surmised. No one said anything about moral. 

As for Landmine himself, he had no problem with “standing for justice,” however vague that was. Considering the lack of any attention, it seemed he was in line with that value, not standing out from the rest and all. 

The case was the same with “protecting all life.” After all, that was a clearer command, and obviously, the noble thing to do. Landmine liked his friends, nature, animals. Of course he’d stand to protect them. 

But for the last one, in the in-betweens to his drills and assignments, throughout all the years of his schooling and the time spent in the trenches of battles, he often wondered what it meant. To “do what’s right.” 

What was a…‘good Autobot’ anyway? 

He could recall the answers he’d received. 

“It means you follow orders,” one older bot spat, laughing. He had then put the ratty cigar back in his mouth and turned away. Clearly, the conversation was over. 

“A good Autobot?” Echoed a solemn youth, shining his shotgun. “Well its in the words you’ve just said! A good Autobot stands for justice, and they protect all–” 

…you get the idea.

“There are none,” was all a small-framed purple bot croaked, taking another sip from his oil can. He’d died on the field, screaming in agony, about one week later. 

And there were more answers, and Landmine still couldn’t figure out his own. But there were more pressing matters in his mind. Firstly, the matter of leaving this dull, doomed unit. 

See, he was a bot who enjoyed adventure, thought himself particularly good in battle. He was known for good one-liners, for his looks, and his sharp shots. This wasn’t the place for him. At the risk of being prideful and conceited, he often thought to himself, that this was no place for him to die. 

It was ugly, style-less, depressing, cold, damp…boring. 

For years, he hoped for more, and finally one day, he got it. 

“Hey!” 

…

“Oh yeah? Well you can take your attitude, and shove it up your tailpipe, Xy.” 

“‘Hey’ yourself, you're not part of this, so butt out you aft–” 

“Aft? Excuse me? I’ve a good mind to report you for that kind of slander and harassment!”

“What?! I didn’t slander you!! I'm not even harassing you, I just insulted you, but--but that's subjective, a-and I didn’t say –”

“Shut up, you two! There’s someone knocking.”

Landmine lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard Klint shout for everyone to quiet down. 

As usual, it was another night in his section base–of the hot-head rookie Cinderflame being aggressive towards “two-word” Xy, and then somehow, getting into an argument with the self-important, self-declared “rulebook” of their subunit, Max. 

But the knocking at their door continued, louder this time. Cinderflame started to protest, and was quickly silenced a quick cuff to the back of his head by Max. 

Landmine closed his book very slowly and sat up in his bunk, watching as Klint quietly got up and headed to the door, activating his gun. Meanwhile, everyone else began to tense up, including Landmine. 

It wasn’t unheard of for mutinies to happen, for somebot to snap and go on a killing rampage, or for the enemy to have infiltrated and quietly taken command of a base. Any number of things could be behind the door, as it wasn’t normal to get a knock on the door at this hour of the night. 

But to their relief, the entity behind the door identified itself. 

“14-E, I order you–open up! Right now!”

Klint lowered his gun and sighed, more an annoyed sigh than a relieved one. They all knew who’s voice that was, and Landmine wanted–and was sure he had–no part in whatever was happening. 

‘Racker,’ mouthed Cinderflame in Xy’s direction, who rolled his optics and went back to organizing bullet shells. 

The other “rulebook” bot, except Racker was official, not self-declared. 

“I’ll mark you all for infractions!” He shouted in an attempt at an assertive tone, pounding unceasingly at the door. 

“I’ll mark you with my fist,” muttered Klint, trudging over. As he did so, Cinderflame snickered, then looked to Max, who was trying his best to keep a serious expression. Even he had no respect for the elected section head, but didn’t want to admit that. 

Well, I’m out, thought Landmine as he fell against his berth and opened his book again, hoping to get back to the story, detaching from the group.

He had no such luck, of course. 

The door opened at last with a high-pitched squeal of old metal, and the section head marched in, shouting for them to stand at attention. Below, Cinderflame gave the beginning of a groan, but it was cut short with the sound of someone elbowing him. 

 See, there was no such procedure in the rulebook, Landmine had discovered a while ago. But, there was also no point in raising that argument now. Begrudgingly, the group all followed the order and lined up at the door. 

Marching in stiffly, the grey-plated bot looked them up and down, a sharp look in his eyes. Then, he stated his business. 

Landmine was wanted in the unit Commander’s quarters.

For a moment, he considered it was some sort of elaborate prank, but that thought was quite fleeting. Jokes of that kind weren’t common around this sector, if at all. 

And if Racker was involved, well…

Doubt he knows what a joke is. 

“Well don’t stand there, move your metal hide!”

“Yes, sir!”

He felt side-eyed gazes of pity on him as he left the line. He felt them follow him as he walked out the door closely behind Racker, and into the barren, darkened clearing. But he was far more curious than worried. He could have easily run ahead to those quarters himself. 

Leaving Racker in the dust was quite easy, anyway. 

…

Racker, expression solemn and blank as ever, stopped at the white door and jerked his helm in the direction of the entrance, then folded his arms and turned forward, as if Landmine was no longer there. 

Go in. Alright. 

Landmine smirked to himself, then reached over and pushed the door open. 

Well. If I’m court-martialed or something, at least I’ll finally be put out of my misery. 

“Good evening, sir,” Landmine said, striding into the room. “You asked for me?” 

He’d never been in a commander’s quarters, and just taking one look at the state of it, he could infer why.

Something to do with the cleanliness of it, the quality of the tools in it…lower-ranking officers certainly had no place here, he could guess.

We belong in our cramped spaces, eating stale oil in our shared, low-rank misery. 

And finally, his optics had fallen on the commander himself, Swipecatch. 

Come to think of it, Landmine was sure he’d only seen the bot once. Or maybe he had a new paintjob? 

I’d like a new paintjob. 

He saluted and straightened his posture before the silver-blue-plated bot finally looked up from a manila-colored folder with messy scrawling and red stamps. It looked like it was important. 

It also looked like a processor-ache to decipher. 

“I did. You’re Landmine, right?” The commander spoke a medium tone, reaching for another paper on the side of the desk and picking up a slim, red pen.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re a Pretender, are you not?”

"Alright," he murmured, beginning to write something, before glancing back up at the younger bot. “At ease,” he finally added, and Landmine was glad for it.

His gaze was immediately back on the paper as he started to write something into the blank lines. Some more silence followed, broken only by the sound of the pen against the paper, and Landmine watched as he swiftly filled out every blank space, signed his name, then looked back up again. 

“I am told I have such capabilities, sir.” 

“And have you been to training for it?”

“Only at a minimum level, as per my curriculum at the academy, sir.”

“Have you yet attained your third form?”

“I have not been provided any such opportunity up to this point, sir.” 

“Uh-huh…”

Swipecatch nodded, seeming to come to some kind of internal conclusion and writing something in the corner of the paper, before stamping the paper and folding it in half. Landmine began to wonder if he was being disciplined. 

“Soldier, you have been requested to join a special dispatch team made only of three other Pretenders like yourself.” 

Or…this. 

“Now, I can’t imagine you love this place enough to do this, but you do have the option to decline and remain at your post here, as it will be a very dangerous, long-term assignment, far from Cybertron and even this very sector.

“You four will only be provided one ship and instructions to report to us when asked, as we are not able to provide further resources. You will be sent into space to track Decepticon ships anywhere deemed fit to assign your team.”

He eyed Landmine up and down, who stood motionless, staring unwaveringly at his commander as he waited for him to continue. So he did.  

“Your...commander will be a recent academy graduate, Metalhawk. I am not at liberty to share anything more about him than this.” 

He shifted back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table.

“Since I take your…silence…to be an acceptance of this offer…” he said slowly, holding out the folded paper and letting Landmine take it. “I am giving you this now, so that you may board the next transport ship that comes in tomorrow, at first light.”

Landmine unfolded the paper a bit, catching sight of the orders written in fine print above the uneven writing of his commander. 

Previous commander, actually. 

“This is not a promotion, merely a new assignment that my higher-ups feel you are equipped for. There will also be a training period with your peers starting the moment you are all gathered at your launch site. Do you understand?”

“Fully, sir!”

“Alright, then. Dismissed.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

 He vaguely wondered if the sound the commander made after that was a laugh or a scoff. 

 Landmine saluted again, and left the room, clutching the paper in his digits, which had begun to vibrate with excitement. 

Suddenly, all the years of stale oil and bleak death around him, putting up with various groupings that never seemed to work out–with this doomed unit–seemed worth it. They’d been part of some plan, something Landmine had to go through for a while before this, before…

 Destiny. It has finally called my name. 

…

“Mighty lucky, aren’t you?” Klint remarked, leaning against the wall and watching Landmine stacking a couple books. 

Landmine simply looked up and grinned.

 “Stay alive,” Xy mumbled from his bunk, not even shifting position to look at the team as they gathered in the center of the space. 

 His inspirational capacities truly sway the spark. 

“Thank you, Xy. I’ll do my best.”

The mech raised a thumbs-up, making no further comment. 

“This is favoritism!”

“It is not. It’s the will of our higher command.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s unfair?”

“Shut your trap!” Max made a fist and took a step towards Cinderflame. “Questioning high command could be treason!”

“Oh shove off, you annoying glitch.”

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Yeah, I said it!" 

Klint groaned, facepalming slowly. Xy, in his bunk, put on some headphones and inched closer to the wall.

As usual, not even an hour after wakeup calls, and the two were at it again. But while Landmine conceded he wouldn't miss the unwarranted noise, he knew he would miss being able to laugh internally at their stupidity. 

Cinderflame kicked at the ground and glared at Landmine, who was closing his bag and picking it up. 

“We have to stay in the scrap," he muttered, "but he gets to be special! He gets to–”  

Knocking at the door quieted the room. 

In the brief silence, Landmine wondered how pompous he'd sound telling Cinderflame that he was, in fact, a special bot. 

He decided it wasn't worth the breath.

"It's time to go!" Came the voice from behind the steel.

Landmine stood tall, strapping the bag to his back and heading outside, without a second look to his scrappy unit, who no doubt would forget his existence quite soon. 

“Landmine?” The gruff, unfamiliar mech asked, looking at the Pretender. 

“That’s me.” Landmine then noticed the markings on the sides of his Autobot insignia, certifying him as a higher-ranking officer. “That’s me, sir,” he revised evenly.  

The officer narrowed his yellow-green optics, almost skeptically. Then he spoke again. “We’re driving a while, two hours at longest. You fueled yet?”

Landmine nodded, feeling his excitement start to build. 

Naturally, the place where any transports or supply ships landed would be miles and miles from any camp, for security reasons. Only superior officers would know supply drop-off locations. One could imagine such things were carefully coordinated long before a ship's arrival.

It was then that Landmine recalled he’d never once been on a supply run.

And, he guessed, he'd never find out what it was like. But he was cool with that.

“Right. Let’s move out, then. And stay close to me.”

That won’t be a problem, sir, Landmine thought, excited for the opportunity to spin his wheels. 

He also thought himself quite proficient in the art of speeding in style.

They both transformed, then sped to the entrance of the barracks. The drive took about an hour, quickly clearing miles of dry, uneven land, until at last, coming upon a ridge, the tip of a large, grey mass could be seen.

He could feel the vibrations of anticipation–of excitement!–growing as the mass became more and more like the shape of a transport ship–his ticket out of this forsaken place. 

Briefly, he began to wonder what the new team was like, what the ship and its resources provided would be, where they'd be assigned first…

Will I see my new commander’s face more than once or twice, whoever it is? 

And at last, they rolled down the sandy-brown rocks and onto the clearing, below the massive overhang of the ship. Landmine could hardly contain himself, and transformed as soon as his wheels came to a smooth halt. 

His superior officer also transformed, drawing up next to him, folding his arms again.

"Well. Off you go." 

He offered a brisk pat on the shoulder pad before trudging off to the left and calling out to one of the smaller mechs in the distance. Landmine reached into the bag strapped to him and fished out the paper before marching up the boarding plate. 

Landmine made it through the security check easily, papers identified, baggage approved, and he found the area in the cargo hold where he was to remain for the duration of the ride. 

“You will not leave this area until we have reached the designated location. We will use force if you cause any trouble. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir.”

A cargo hold… 

Well…it was a free ship ride during a war.

Landmine waited for the guard to leave, then walked over and sat down against the wall, well within the space he’d been told to occupy. He held his bag close to his chestplates, wondered if a full power-off would be a good idea, or if the ride would be too short for that. 

It seemed they weren’t going to allow him that information, either. 

 Ah, well, they’ll just have to wake me, then. Who knows if I’ll get a moment’s rest where we’re going anyway? 

 And with a quiet whirring, his systems slowed and he leaned his helm against the wall, slipping into a peaceful powerdown. 

…

It seemed the guard wouldn’t have to come and wake Landmine after all, as the ship came to a halt at its destination with a large thump that shook the ship down to the nails in the wallplates. 

Landmine was instantly ripped from his powerdown, jolted awake as he was thrown forward and then smacked back against the wall again when the vehicle finally halted. Rubbing his helm rather drowsily, he gave a small pout. 

Whoever’s driving should have their piloting license revoked. 

But he immediately recalled where he was and what he was doing, and the excitement returned, grasping his entire body in its hold. Quickly, he grabbed his bag and scrambled to his feet, waiting for someone to come and let him out. 

Be cool, be calm, you’re acting like a giddy sparkling. 

 Right. Steady motions, smooth words. Just as usual. 

And finally, someone did come. Actually, Landmine realized upon listening closer, there were…two sets of footfalls. He wondered if they were maintenance bots, or maybe a pair of workers come to unload the cargo hold, not permit Landmine to leave yet. 

But he remained still, listening to the footsteps, coming closer and closer until–

“He’s in here. You’re…assuming responsibility before he reaches the camp, sir?” 

It was the same guard from before. But then, the other bot with him spoke. 

 “Of course. You know higher-ups don’t give information about assignments, leading to accidents and the like.”

Odd. Was it one of his new teammates? 

He must be higher-ranking than me to have that guard call him “sir.” Or maybe I’m being moved up a few–no, wait. Swipecatch said this isn’t a promotion. But then, why–

Suddenly, the door opened with a weighty hissing noise, and the yellow light from the halls fell upon Landmine, who’d been getting used to the blue shadows of this cargo area. He immediately turned and saluted, watching as the guard walked in first, looked around, then stepped aside. 

In walked a yellow-plated bot, who took one look around, then put a servo on the shoulder pad of the guard. 

“You can go if you like. I gather you’ve more important things to get to, and I know the way off the ship.”

With a small smile and a salute, the guard turned and headed out the door. 

Landmine watched, somewhat amused, as the yellow mech leaned his head out the doorway, calling a thanks to the guard before turning back to Landmine with an awkward kind of smile. 

He actually thanked that guard. How interesting. 

Landmine returned the smile, a little more confidently. 

“Right. Um,” the bot took a deep breath and walked up to Landmine, offering his servo for a handshake. 

“My name is Metalhawk. I will be your new commander. Your other teammates are already aboard the ship.”

 Optics flitting from the outstretched servo to the earnest, blue optics staring back at him, Landmine was beginning to realize something. 

“I understand any previous commanders you’ve served under might have made a point on formalities, but I’m more interested in forming a good team than being addressed as ‘sir’ and the like. So, if you don’t mind, I hope we’ll get to know one another better with time.”

And that realization, was that this had been the right decision indeed, accepting this mission.

To be fair, anything would have been better than staying to fight in the scrapheap of a place he’d previously been.

With that…team of characters to live or die beside.

But Metalhawk seemed to be normal, perhaps even kind.

Plus, if his intuition wasn’t off, most captains, generals, and commanders were on the older side, but this bot…

He must be good to be a commander this young. 

Landmine took his servo and shook it firmly. 

“Glad to be serving with you, Hawk. I’m Landmine.” 

 At the nickname, Metalhawk gave a little grin, seeming to like it. 

 “Alright then, follow me.”

With a friendly chuckle, he headed for the door and immediately started to describe the other two bots Landmine was soon to meet. As they headed down the halls and out of the ship, he quickly learned that an he'd be in the company of two fliers–including his commander–and one sea-faring bot.

An interesting and even balance of alt-modes.

 “...and this is our ship.”

They stopped, and Landmine found himself before a huge mass of shining, silver and white metal. The daylight bounced off it gorgeously, edging the ship in glittery light. The green-blue windows looked as jewels, without a weathering mark or scratch in sight. 

The softer-toned blue highlights on the side plating of the vessel led his eye to the elegantly-painted Autobot symbol on the front hood. 

They might have been given the one ship only, but by Primus, was it a beauty.

Perhaps those old generals weren't all so selfish. 

It could have been some old prison ship with extra canons strapped to it, after all. 

This guy's lucky to be commander and score a ship like this. Something tells me Swipecatch wouldn't know what this is like, and he's been in the game longer.

He almost chuckled aloud before remembering where he was. 

A platform began to lower from the ship’s underside, which hung a little higher than their helms. Standing on it was a familiar face, and Landmine couldn’t help but perk up and exclaim–

“Diver!” 

“Lander!!” 

He felt a warmth surge through him. At last, he was seeing a familiar face again.

Someone he'd really thought, he'd never see again.

“‘Lander’?” Metalhawk echoed, taking a step up to the platform. 

The machinery gave a smooth whirring noise and the platform began to rise off the ground and back into the ship. Landmine could only laugh, letting Waverider answer for him. 

“We were arguing once,” the dark-plated mech said, leaning closer to Landmine. He spoke as if telling a weighty secret. “So I started calling him ‘Lander,’ like for his land-based vehicle mode. He retaliated, calling me ‘Diver.’”

“Because you have a water-based alt.”

“Exactly!”

“‘Diver’ is infinitely more creative, you have to give me that,” Landmine cut in.

“But ‘Lander’ is more direct!” Waverider protested. 

“It’s the most obvious kind of name!”

The three of them shared a laugh. 

That was most of the story, anyway. 

As the three headed down the dimly-lit hallway, Waverider kept talking. He started to tell their commander about their shared academy days, about the classes they took, the things they trained for. 

After a point, he couldn’t quite hear what the mech was talking about, as his mind began to wander.

Landmine recalled in flashes of memory, the moments he'd left out of the story...the days following that ‘argument,’ when they’d made up, and both their ‘insult names’ became somewhat like…pet names.

Calling in the hallways, covertly shifting places during inspections or exercises to stand with one another, sneaking into each other’s dorms, speaking in hushed tones as heat rushed through their systems, as if finally realizing all these feelings which had been for so long already there…

His spark skipped a beat as he gazed at the back of Waverider’s helm.

You never apologized for the way you left.

He tried to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to stir that up. 

But it never matters what the mind wants, the heart will always have its way. Guilt, too. Such a persistent thing, guilt–bent on collection of time spent contemplating the past. 

Sharp like a knife, hidden in shadows of daily happenings, its steely glint appearing every now and then, its blade cutting deep into a wound time has slowly tried to mend. 

Tried to mend. 

But I tried…

Landmine began to wonder again about the truest meaning of “do what’s right” was. If it meant for the other bot or for oneself. If being a “good autobot” carried over into matters of the mind and spark, hidden from the public eye, intimate and…

This is not the time. 

Right. Not the time. 

Rounding the bend, Landmine was surprised to find how quickly they’d made their way to the command center. Considering the direction they’d been going, he guessed it was somewhere near the center of the ship.

Landmine watched as Metalhawk stepped in front of Waverider and reached out to a smooth, blue panel next to the door. 

“In addition to the defaults being set up–which I need to fix–I’m the only one scanned for access right now,” Hawk said with a little smile. The door hissed and started to open. “But by tonight you’ll be scanned to the system as well.”

“And the door will open in seconds, not hours!” 

“Yes, Waverider, it will,” Hawk said, rolling his optics.

Landmine watched as the door finally slid to the side, revealing a polished room with pristine, white floors and walls. Along the sides were blocks of machinery he could only guess was what higher-ups meant when they referred to something as ‘state-of-the-art.’

Except this stuff is state-of-the-art. 

The front of the room had grooves that shaped a large window, wrapping around about half the side walls. Landmine guessed they were retractable for direct visibility during flight. 

We don’t even need the windows open to fly the ship. Magnificent. 

“During your pre-mission training together, you’ll be introduced on a basic level to all the machinery aboard this ship, and I will designate you to certain roles when the need arises.”

Everything sparkled in its modern, symmetrical beauty. It was all new, untouched, and would ideally provide the team with advantages in conflicts to come. At least, far greater than the shabby resources given to camps like the one from which Landmine had just departed. 

Far less could die…

“Yo!” 

Three helms turned as a red-plated mech rose from behind one of the monitor stations near the back of the room. He clapped his servos together to dust them off and stepped out from the station, waving. 

“That was quick,” Metalhawk commented, looking the walls up and down. It was hard to tell what was manually modified and what had been unchanged, but Landmine decided it was best to simply trust that all the devices in the room would preform well when they were needed.

“Well...this is Cloudburst,” he said, gesturing at the mech. 

Cloudburst gave a big grin. 

“He’s just fixed our door problem, and most of the settings on the ship’s machinery,” the commander continued, looking somewhat pleased. 

"He did!!" Waverider called from the open door. He'd immediately run back to test it out.

A mechanic of sorts, Landmine surmised.

And, after a few minutes of talking passed, he found his hypothesis correct. 

Cloudburst had gone to university for a bit, before the war, but it was cut short. He was lucky enough to be selected for a special team of machinery developers, but then, unfortunate to have been placed in a camp that was quickly overpowered by Decepticon forces.

“And I made my escape before my section was done in,” he said. “In the days following, I made my way to…”

As he was talking, Waverider leaned over to Landmine. 

“Phoenix,” he whispered behind a servo.  

Immediately, he caught on, smirking. 

“Flier?” 

He watched with some satisfaction through his peripheral as Waverider nodded. 

“Well, I guess it isn’t that exciting, but…that’s about it from me!” Cloudburst finished with a huff and another smile. “So what about you?” 

Landmine felt put on the spot for a moment, then he shrugged. 

“It’s not much compared to your novel of a tale,” he remarked. The others gave a chuckle. He looked to Metalhawk. 

“But first…any chance we have drinks aboard?”

…

Landmine was incredibly amused to discover the lack of tolerance to high-grade his commander had. 

Of course, he’d never been drinking with a commander before, but he’d expected himself to get drunk first. 

Or…am I drunk, too? 

Truth be told, he was feeling a bit sleepy…and warm. 

Music played faintly from a speaker near the ceiling. Some song from a couple centuries back, the tune registering itself in subconscious memory. He knew the tune, but didn’t know the song. 

As it was, with many things. 

Yawning, Landmine tilted his helm, which was resting in the palm of his hand, and looked to his holopad. It was laid at the edge of the table, screen open with a striking, blue light.  

The sudden blue glow against the dim, pinkish lighting of the room hurt his optics a bit, so he looked away again. 

 Drunk or sober, I think I’m gonna fall over. 

 “Commander?” He gently poked the yellow mech. Metalhawk had his head down at the flat, white tabletop. 

Landmine guessed he was asleep. He took another sip of his drink, then put it down, giggling. 

Perhaps this’ll rouse him…

 “Hawk! Report status, soldier!” He deepened his voice to resemble the barking of a drill sergeant, tapping the yellow-plated mech as he spoke. 

Metalhawk gave a short jolt. 

“Whaz’t?” He slurred, raising his helm sharply, looking around a bit. He seemed to realize Landmine was talking to him and turned his gaze to him, squinting. 

“Hawk, I was wondering–”

“Comman’er here,” he murmured suddenly, yet still quietly, cutting Landmine off. He gave what looked like the very definition of an ‘improper salute’ as he spoke. 

“Yes, soldier?” He deepened his voice again, smirking. Hawk seemed partially unaware it was Landmine speaking to him, as if he was only half-awake.

“I report…I’m reporting for…my absence reports…I’ll go to class t’morrow, sir!!” 

Oh jeez. He’s so out of it– 

Landmine tightened his jaw, trying not to burst into laughter.

He promptly failed after a couple seconds more, but Metalhawk didn’t seem to really notice. And of course, this just made it funnier.

He watched as Metalhawk shook his head, looking rather drowsily at the empty cup sitting in front of him, then back at Landmine. Was he aware enough to want another drink? 

Perhaps he’d suddenly have some of that energy from a couple hours ago if he had that other drink.

The image of his Commander stumbling around and laughing in a mildly uncharacteristic manner returned to his thoughts. Landmine waited in anticipation as Hawk continued to stare at the cup. 

But then, he gave a long exhale and put his head back down, mumbling something else. 

 Landmine concluded with a small chuckle to himself that, Hawk was probably down for the night–for good this time. 

 “We come bearing–”

“Shush! He’ll know we’re here!!”

“He already does, you nut–” 

 He looked to the door as made a hissing noise and opened to reveal Cloudburst and Waverider, having a mild argument. 

 “Oh, you’re back,” He said, raising his glass with a small grin. Waverider set the crate down. “I definitely didn’t hear you coming down the hall.” 

He watched Waverider snap around and issue a light whack to Cloudburst. It was likely in place of a triumphant ‘I told you so.’  

This time, Landmine didn’t let himself laugh out loud. He did allow a quiet chuckle. 

Cloudburst walked over and grabbed a bottle, popping it open and taking a drink.

“You and the boss’re still around, I see!” 

Landmine nodded, moving to take another sip, but he found his cup empty. 

“I’d stay, but I’m so drunk right now, I can’t stand up straight,” he said, taking another swig. Landmine nodded again, reaching over and sliding a bottle of his own out of its slot. 

“Oh you’re drunk,” Waverider agreed shoving him playfully. 

And so are you, Landmine thought. So am I, probably. 

Pouring the bottle’s contents into his cup, he found his gaze fixating on the liquid as it sparkled mid-air. He liked the small sound it made as it refilled the cup. 

He did not wish to heed how many drinks he’d already had, or was giving himself. 

 “Well then, begone with you,” Waverider said. With a smirk, he suddenly reached over and swiped the open bottle from Cloudburst and took a sip. The mech didn’t seem to mind, just watching him with an amused grin.

“See you, Phoenix,” Landmine said, taking his eyes off his glass for a moment. He set his now-half-empty bottle next to Metalhawk’s sleeping figure. 

That was definitely too many drinks, considering the size of his cup.

  “I’ll be here for a while, I think.”

 Cloudburst nodded acknowledgement and made what Landmine classified as: an improper salute: exhibit B. 

“Then–until the morning shines!” He said, almost a little too loudly. “Cloudburst, signing off my duty–I mean–for my duty! I will bring you–”

“Shut up, you lugnut!” Waverider shoved him out of the room, laughing so hard he lost his footing a bit. The two toppled over, landing outside of the room. 

Landmine just watched, sipping at his cup. The door hissed shut on the sight of the two drunken mechs trying to unentangle themselves and stand up again, amidst their giddy, tipsy laughter. 

“Until the morning shines,” he echoed to himself absentmindedly, shifting his cup from side to side. 

The bubbly feeling he’d been harboring the whole evening was, inevitably and suddenly, starting to fade.

There was something starting to well up inside. Something another couple glasses wouldn’t fix, even though he had as much left in the bottle he’d just taken. 

Something rather cold and dark. 

To think I was among the dying in some forsaken frontlines camp. Now, here I am, drunk, with drunken fools. Look at me, one of them. 

He wasn’t feeling so warm anymore. 

Excitement awaits, or is it crueler death? 

Another sip, and he felt a twinge of unease. Or was it nausea? His fuel tanks remained in slight discomfort, but not enough that he’d be inclined to obey its silent will. 

So, he tilted his helm upwards to finish off the glass. Now he was ready to go.

Landmine rose unsteadily, swaying a bit, gripped the tableside. He felt his fuel tanks lurch with the movement, and took a second to breathe slowly.

He glanced at Hawk, still sleeping in his spot. He wondered when Waverider had planned to come back in, looking to the door. But everything had gone quiet. 

Probably went back to his quarters with Phoenix. 

Ah, well. It was about time he stopped drinking for the night, anyway. With a huff, he hauled himself upright and started towards the door. 

Don’t know where mine is…

He figured he’d just go back to the command center. Perhaps no one would mind if he passed out there. 

…

Three weeks later, the team was almost through with their pre-mission training requirements, with only days to go before they were certified to move out. 

It hadn’t been easy, but Landmine found himself feeling more confident in the mission to come, and in his Pretender abilities, which had until this point, meant next to nothing to him. 

 It was funny to think how the higher-ups had tried to convince every bot that their only purpose was a soldier, who should hold their gun and shoot–the only exception being if they were elite by caste or class, or simply higher-ranked. 

Day after day of military academy–especially after the war really got started–Landmine knew he was no elite. He was trained in how to use his gun, how to survive without proper resources for periods of time, to be a strategist–with the all the smarts a bot might need but would forget when a blade shoved itself against their throat. 

Yet still, only twice had he ever been spoken to about being a Pretender. About fighting as a Pretender and not as simply another Autobot soldier.

Perhaps it was trivial in the bigger picture–after all, dead is dead. 

 4-edge, 3-edge, length sticks, no not those…

Landmine’s optics flicked to the different boxes lined up in the shelf. Some of them had labels, some of those labels had faded to white. 

He’d gone to fetch some repair supplies for Cloudburst. And as usual, the silence invited the chatter of his own thoughts. 

How many were there like himself, with unacknowledged potential–who would likely die in battle, the intricate stories of their lives forced shut in an anticlimactic conclusion. No adventure, no life lived before their time? 

And how odd, he remarked internally, to still have the fortunate and the unfortunate, in the midst of a war–one being fought namely for the end of the class divide in Cybertronian society. 

Will we accomplish anything when we end this, other than the destruction of cities and lives? Be it violent tyranny and oppression, or the will of corrupt and almighty governmental bodies–who below them would come away with anything other than what has always been? 

Head down, staring at the contents of the open box, Landmine felt a familiar ache, a sinking feeling of dread and despair. 

Our lives lie in the hands of others. If we like it or not, if we wage a war for it or not. How fair is that? 

“Lander! Where are you, buddy? We’re doing another simulation soon, but Hawk wants us in the main hall first!” 

Waverider. 

He looked up, staring at the wall outside the open door. He felt guilty as silence followed, likely for his own lack of response. But he couldn’t say anything back right now. He gripped the box more tightly and started down the hall. 

Memories began to awaken. Things he wanted to remember that made his chest hurt, reminding him why he also…didn’t want to remember. 

I'm just as bad a spark, aren't I?

He wondered…how fair it was to break someone’s heart, and then, act like nothing had happened at all. 

…

On the day for liftoff–when training was complete and all certifications to move out had been met–Landmine found himself exiting powerdown before daylight had emerged in the sky. He was not a late-riser by any means, but not usually quite so early either. 

He stared at the faint rays of daylight, reaching through his window and lighting the edge of his room walls.

He thought about the vacuum of space ahead. Something like a smile played at the corners of his mouth. 

I’ll remember this for a while, won’t I? 

The mech paced his room a couple times, rolling his shoulder joints and stretching a little. He'd found many benefits to morning exercises.

Optics ticking to an empty glass bottle lying near the window, his mind drifted back to the evening before. 

To the impromptu speech Metalhawk had made last night over some drinks in the bar room. 

The dimly-lit room carried a quiet murmuring, a laugh here and there. Landmine had come a bit late, taking his seat while Waverider waved a hello and handed him a glass. Cloudburst was, of course, talking. 

After a little while, Landmine glanced over the table and saw that Metalhawk had a distant sort of smile on his faceplate. 

He ran a finger against his rounded glass, gently. Then, as if deciding something, he flicked the edge softly. 

The soft cling caught the attention of their group, quieting them. And, without moving his optics from the sight of the rippling liquid in his cup, he’d begun to speak. 

“As we prepare to liftoff tomorrow, I wanted to…say a few things.” 

He looked now, to each one of them. 

“I…cannot guarantee we will make it back to Cybertron, that we will always have what we need, or that we will…survive this. I don’t know if we’ll succeed or fail in our mission, end up as prisoners of war on some Decepticon ship or not, or die as just a handful more nameless, faceless faction of the Autobot army. But, there is one thing of which, I do ask you to be certain.” 

He smiled a smile that no longer seemed distant, but very much real. Present. 

A look shimmered in his optics that Landmine knew well, yet not of his own experience. 

It was a look that belonged only to those who had somehow, not been tainted at their very core–who had somehow learned to love all things as they were, and to always love. 

Someone, he mused the thought, who had perhaps, not yet learned to hate from the pits of his being. Or maybe…

Made a choice, he'd thought.

“I am your commander in name only. More importantly, however, know I am your teammate, and I will not abandon you at any cost. Our destinies are uncertain–I only hope for many good centuries together. Not as mere soldiers of the Autobot faction, but instead as warriors of Cybertron, and of justice. Though imperfect as all beings are, we have, and always will have, a duty to protect life, and to strive to do good. And that mission, above all others, I do believe we can accomplish.”

Landmine gave a shout of approval and raised his glass high in the air. Nodding, the others raised theirs. They gazed back at Metalhawk, who gave a small chuckle, then raised his own glass. 

“For peace!” He offered the toast. Clinking of glass and overlapping shouts followed.

“For Cybertron!!”

“Let’s get ‘em!!”

“YEAA!!!”

Landmine blinked again, realizing he’d begun to stare at that bottle a little too long. 

The memory left him in the silence of his room in the early hours of day. 

Today’s the day. 

He slipped his new blaster to its holster and cast one more look at his room, then headed down to the main room to start course-planning, as a favor for the others on the ship, of course. 

…

Many years had passed since the Pretenders’ liftoff. Missions had been carried out, ships tracked and ambushed, prisoners transported to warships that arrived quickly after battles. The three weeks of training hadn’t done much to show them what they’d learn firsthand on every mission. 

Many hours were spent behind piles of mission reports and other writeups for record-keeping. No one had been seriously wounded up till this point, just some scratches here and there. 

When it was time to close in on their target, there’d be tense silence in the command room, darkened save for the computer display of what lay outside their ship’s windows. It was the unspoken group decision that pursuing targets would mean windows were closed, for maximum stealth effect in addition to the cloaking technology their ship possessed.

The panel walls were littered with an array of maps and charts (digital or tacked on rather hastily) that either had to do with their ship or the one the team was chasing. All optics and servos were locked to their task, relaying commands and requests between stations, ready for almost anything. 

 And at present, that was kind of the team’s situation…with one slight change. 

 “Phoenix, give me the numbers on our bottom left central thruster. Will it hold?”

 Having tracked their target to a very distant quadrant, the computer didn’t have much information about the area or its conditions. 

 “Ah…we’re at 42% power and dropping. The damage report indicates the shielding was torn off and it’s leaking fuel. The secondary power source cables are damaged as well, so once all the power’s gone, that’s it.” 

“Are the damage control systems online?”

“Negative. We have to go manual,” He pulled up the video feed of their rear camera to show the damage. “We are traveling at full speed in space, so manual repairs are not doable–”

“–without the cost of a life, alright. And if we continue pursuit as we are?” 

“Without repair? The…system says about 20 minutes until it starts sucking power from the other ones, and then we’ll enter float stage, pre-free-fall.”

 So…they were trapped. 

Landmine watched as he ducked his head, dealing a restrained punch to the wall next to him before returning to his command station and furiously typing away at the controls. He cast his eyes back to his own task, repeating to himself that he must stay focused.

“I’m going to try to reroute the power from the damaged thruster to the functional ones and shut off its power. We need to land now, or we’ll be forced to land,” he said quickly, not looking up. 

The tremor in his voice was audible, ambiguously a tone of either urgency or fear. 

 Landmine looked up from his station, where he had been managing their travel course since no one was piloting manually. 

 “Should I analyze the properties of our current sector and any stable landforms?” He offered, already pulling up another screen. 

“Yes, make sure–”

 Suddenly, the vessel jolted downwards and shook with such force that everyone was knocked to their feet. A blaring alarm sounded as the ship shook again, an automated voice announcing in smooth Cybertronian that their back two thrusters were out of power. 

The lights shut off for a second, while the ship swayed unevenly before a loud whirring started up and it moved back up again. 

When it returned to a somewhat stable position, the lights remained flickering, and everyone remained gripping their stations tightly so as to not fall over. 

 Metalhawk straightened and immediately dashed to the front of the ship, smacking a panel on the front computer and grabbing the steering wheel. As he twisted it, he turned back around for a moment. 

 “Lander–something within the current firing range of this ship–we need a landing place now!!”

“We’re abandoning target pursuit?” 

 He felt a small spark of hope as Metalhawk, gave a silent nod in response. He had the feeling most other commanders would have sacrificed themselves and their ship, preaching the nobility of dying for this cause without abandoning the mission.

 “With any luck, one of our last stray shots hit their ship too–which was already on its last leg from the looks of it,” Waverider piped up. “So they won’t be too far ahead, I’ll bet.” 

 “Okay, then,” Landmine switched off his station’s input to the course control and focused his efforts on scanning the nearby planets. “I’ll get something.” 

The ship was vibrating now, but not with its usual even-toned hum. 

It was the kind of uneven vibrating a machine made before it finally gave out and powered down for good.

Meanwhile, all the planets in their current sector weren’t looking too appealing. 

Not many with life or long-term livable conditions…Hm…

“Balance function is starting to–”

As if on cue, the ship began to tilt downwards again, the metallic whirring noise growing louder and louder. A small explosion could be heard before the lights shut off for good and the alarm system abruptly stopped. Everyone was tossed violently to the ground. 

The automated voice struggled to tell the room–

“We lost the third one!!” Cloudburst called over the halting monotone speech from the ship’s speakers. He shook his head picked himself off the ground, then rushed for the door. 

“I’ll shut off the power transfer so it doesn’t fry the rest of the ship and us in it!” The door hissed open and he disappeared down the hall. 

 Then, the sound of…something blowing out, sounded in the room. 

“Oh, sweet fraggin–” Waverider muttered the beginnings of a swear before whipping his gaze to the side to watch as the left half of the ship went completely dark, the computer panels clearly destroyed past functioning point. 

He slammed his station with a balled first. 

“We’re blind on the left side!”

Metalhawk made a noise of frustration and worry, just barely audible above the roaring engine as it struggled to stay active. He was grappling with the somewhat functional manual steering system, trying to keep the ship at a steady angle. 

 “Can we open the–ngh!!”��

He was cut off as the ship as the ship lost control again, throwing him off the wheel and slamming him against the wall and then the floor. As he stumbled to his feet and back to the steering wheel, he gasped as he saw the other side of the ship’s display panels begin to flicker ominously. 

Landmine swallowed, doing his best to quickly surf through all the information presented. 

“We’re almost out of power–we can’t deactivate the panels!”

It was now or never, they needed a place to–

'Sol System Entry 7625 - Life: detected.’ 

Landmine blinked twice at the screen in front of him. He scrolled back to the planet that had read the one positive result among the sea of negative ones. 

It that…?

With a quick tap, the image of a blue orb with wispy, white clouds tracing its edge, floating gently in its place, appeared on his display screen. His optics flicked to the planetary report, intrigued to find that this place had even been previously logged into Autobot travel records. 

‘Atmospheric makeup: Non-toxic. Resource profile: Varied, Non-toxic. Cycle End Date: Undetected. Motion Cycle: Rotation.’ 

He checking one last thing, anticipation building–

Landing conditions: Optimal; follow procedure 41F-52.’

That was it.

“We need to prepare the ship to enter foreign atmosphere!!”

Waverider and Metalhawk snapped their gazes in his direction.

“Yes, I found us a landing spot, you can thank me later. The profiles of the surrounding planets are virtually uninhabitable–this is our only option right now!” 

Waverider exchanged looks with their commander, who gave him a sharp nod. Then, he ran over to Landmine’s screen. After a moment, he chuckled a little. 

When he turned to look at Landmine, a smile had cracked onto his face through the solemn, controlled panic that had been previously. The soft, turquoise light from the only control panels still working in the room bounced off the curves of his face, shimmering off his blue visor. 

 And even though there was such a high chance they’d die in the next few minutes, Landmine found himself frozen, simply staring back.

 No. We can’t die today. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. 

“Hey! Um, a little help here–did we find something?!”

Landmine let out a little laugh and slid back into his seat as Waverider seemed to snap back to seriousness and leaned over to speak for him.

“Hawk, it also checks out as habitable to carbon-based life forms!” He called, gripping the his station as the ship jerked to the side again. “We’ll be fine as long as we land safely!” 

Just then, Cloudburst came rushing into the room. 

“The core engine isn’t looking good, guys! We need to get the ship out of full thrust mode or we’ll overheat, and our power sources will mix and explode!!” 

Oh. Wonderful. 

So, the options had been expanded beyond: 1.) drifting aimlessly, trapped inside a non-functioning ship until energon-depletion or some other cause killed them, or 2.) losing power completely and burning up upon entry to the nearest atmosphere.

Now, they had a third option: sitting and waiting for their ship to simply overheat and explode. 

The reddish mech ran up next to Metalhawk and started pushing buttons on the control panel. 

“Someone needs to prepare the stasis pods and program them to ejection mode, I’ll set an altitude point!” 

“Got it!” Waverider called, jumping up and sprinting out of the room. Landmine started inputting the coordinates of destination to the navigation system–one of the only undamaged things thus far–and deprogramming the space travel controls. 

A couple minutes of silence passed before he flashed a thumb-up in the air.

“We’re ready for atmospheric entry in approximately 40 seconds and counting!” 

“Brace for a drop, everyone!” Metalhawk shouted, planting his feet and gripping the wheel with all the force he could give. 

“Stasis pods are ready to go!” Waverider reentered the room, sliding back into his station.

“Engines to 15%!”

“Roger!”

“Everyone get down!!”

There was a loud noise from the engine, then an abrupt silence as it cut down to about 15% power, and then the ship dipped so far downwards that Landmine felt himself grimace. 

Part of him even wondered if this was really procedure, and that they weren’t all about to die now. 

As if we weren’t before, he scoffed at himself. 

He dug his digits into the side of his seat and shut his optics as the ship began to pick up speed. 

The eerie silence endured for what felt like an eternity before the ship moved again, this time to right itself and return to a normal angle. At least, normal enough that Landmine opened his eyes to look around and see that the others were slowly standing up. 

 Metalhawk let out a shuddering breath and pressed a couple buttons with shaking digits before stepping back and regarding his crew. He’d probably switched the ship back to autopilot, so that they could all–

“Everyone to the stasis pods,” he ordered solemnly, quietly. 

No one else spoke a word, ducking their helms and filing out of the room and into the hall. 

Landmine walked out last. 

He cast one last look at the nearly pitch-black command room, catching sight of the last couple working display panels struggling to function before the door hissed shut behind him. 

He felt a twinge of sadness at the idea that they were saying goodbye to this ship so soon. Admittedly, it had been one nice vessel, with a gorgeous design and plenty of capabilities.

Then, there was the stark realization that once they entered stasis, they might not make it back out alive. 

We can’t die today. We won’t.

Since the ship was barely working, the lighting in the halls was…nonexistent. However, they knew exactly where they were going, and walked quietly in the darkness until they reached their destination. 

With a quiet whirring noise, the door slid open. The darkness was abruptly luminated with a soft, greenish glow, emanating from the center of each stasis pod lying in its place. 

There were six of them, more than enough for every member on this team. 

Landmine had been there to help Cloudburst put in the other three.

He walked in and watched as Metalhawk entered his verification to the panel on the wall, deactivating the locks on each one so they hissed and snapped open simultaneously. The greenish glow faded to a blue, as if softening, to invite them in. 

“Whatever the outcome, remember what I said to you all on our liftoff day,” Metalhawk said as evenly as he could, turning and regarding each mech slowly, kindly. He had that smile on his face again, which seemed to ease the tension in the room. 

“If we make it out alive or if this is the day on which Primus welcomes us home, I am honored to have had such a good team of friends. I am honored to die, not for this cause, but surrounded by you.”

"And we're honored to remain with you in this moment, sir."

"It was an honor indeed."

"Frag yeah."

Their commander nodded, then swiveled to gaze down at the stasis pods.

“Then…until we meet again,” he said, soft enough that he almost wasn't audible.

He then walked to the back of the room and took a step into the pod. Cloudburst followed, taking the one next to him.

Landmine stepped towards his pod, then stopped, frozen in place again. 

It wasn’t quite hesitation or fear, but something was stopping him from going forward. He could feel the quaking beneath him, as the ship was no doubt somewhat falling apart, reaching closer and closer to the ground. 

He heard the doors to the other pods seal themselves shut, administering the stasis lock. 

But something was…

“Hey.” 

He looked to his side and found himself millimeters away from Waverider. His spark skipped a beat. But, he wasn’t afraid. 

He found himself reaching out and gripping Waverider’s servos, firmly, yet gently. He traced his thumb along the palm of his hand, smiling with a deep emotion he couldn’t quite place. 

Waverider’s visor glittered, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. He let his helm fall against Landmine’s.

He spoke so softly, so gently, in his easy-going way that almost made it seem like he didn't even fear death itself. 

“I want to see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Then see me again!” 

“Alright, I will,” Landmine chuckled, letting go of one hand and bringing it up to caress Waverider’s face for a moment. “I won’t leave you again.” 

“Oh, Lander…”

“I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry for the things I said back in Academy, I'm sorry for never contacting you, I’m sorry for–”

“Shh…” 

 The black-plated mech drew away, his hand sliding slowly out of Landmine’s grip. He gave a soft smile and climbed into his pod, still watching him.

Landmine found himself to be shaking, unable to speak as he watched Waverider lean back and close his optics. He didn’t know how to describe this feeling, that seemed to break his facade, to suddenly force him to realize of the gravity of everything happening in this moment. 

The possibility of the unwanted outcome, which no one would mourn, and no one would remember, until long after the war was over. Or perhaps, not even then.  

He watched, motionless, as the glass panel slid over his body, the blue shining off it in wavy lines.

He mouthed something just before the glass fogged over and he could no longer be seen. 

Until we meet again. 

He could still felt the touch on his hand, the weight against his forehead, heard the softly-whispered utterances ringing in the recesses of his mind as he finally forced himself to move. 

Stepping into his own pod, he felt a strange relief wash over him. Perhaps it was closer to sudden resignation, but he wanted to believe it was relief.

A sheet of clear glass moved over his body, another, thicker one sliding over from the side.

It was a very small space, this container. 

He found himself smiling.

Maybe now he could finally say he’d been a good Autobot. 

Had the past been fixed? Had he done anything right or...just? Had he truly strove for the protection of all life, as Hawk had put it? 

Perhaps. Or not. But maybe I did my best. And maybe…that’s good enough. 

And then, the nothingness of stasis wrapped its grip around him, and everything went dark. 

…

“No, you need a new tie–where’s your sense of style?!” Landmine took a long drink from his glass before shaking his head. “Oh, wait I forgot–you don’t have one.”

“Says the guy in the ugliest jacket I have ever laid eyes on–”

“That's my favorite one, shut up!” 

“You!!”

“You!!!”

But the both of them were laughing.

Though tipsy, they hadn’t thought to call it a night yet, especially not on their drinks. So they remained, sitting near the window of a high-rise, fancy restaurant in the middle Manhattan.

It had so happened, Waverider was in the city for a bit, so Landmine decided to take him to one of his favorite restaurants.

It was times like this he was happy to be not just a human, but one with a very decent salary.

The lights of the city twinkled like a sea of stars tied to the ground, canceling out the vast number of stars that both of them knew hung high in the sky…out in space…

“It’s been too long for you, hasn’t it?” 

 Landmine jolted a bit a he heard Waverider’s voice, gaze snapping back to him and away from the city below. He watched him reach out and pick up his glass, tracing the edge of it with a finger. 

“Me too, Lander,” Waverider said, so quietly it could have been to himself, “Me too.” 

Yes, he agreed, internally, looking back out the window.  

It’d been quite literally ages since they’d been able to resume their missions, flying around the galaxy…they’d been in human bodies for so many years, it almost felt like a distant memory–the war, or that they belonged to a whole other world. 

Considering how long they'd been forced to remain on earth so far–as their superiors felt it best to just station the team on earth rather than provide or allow them a means to come back to Cybertron���he was fairly open to that notion. Perhaps it was better it all remained a vague memory, put behind him for good.

Life on earth wasn't perfect, but it had a lot of its own good moments. In some ways, it was better than Cybertron, he'd concluded.

And despite what he knew many of his kind would think, he didn't feel guilty at all for feeling that way.

He remembered the day their stasis pods reactivated, opening his optics to a bright light floating in a crystal blue sky, and realizing he was unharmed, and still alive. 

The flood of hope like no other, that had caused him to remain motionless for quite a while before he finally left his pod. 

But what had felt like such a distant memory wasn’t just the war itself. 

 “Hey,” he said taking another sip of the sparkling white liquid in his glass. “I’ve missed talking to you like this. Just sitting together...”

He watched Waverider lean back to down the rest of his glass before responding. 

“You said it.”

“We should…get together more often,” he found himself saying. The music playing faintly on the speakers stopped for a moment as he spoke. 

He watched Waverider smile, but felt his heart tighten as it registered what kind of smile it was. This was familiar. Quite familiar. 

Another song started to play overhead. Something about romance. 

“I’d…be open to that,” he said at last, looking out the window. Even amidst the medium-level noise of the restaurant, his sudden silence seemed to shout at Landmine. 

Should I not have...?

Landmine sighed and reached out a hand, letting his fingers rest on his friend’s. 

The warm, semi-dim lighting of the restaurant painted the strangers at the tables behind them in orange shadows. The yellow of the overhead lighting shimmered faintly in the depths of Waverider's soft blue eyes. 

He looked out the window again, too, eyes caught by the sight of a skyscraper flashing a bright yellow light in some practiced sequence. 

He found it wonderful and intriguing that even after all these years watching civilization build itself into the modern day, there were still some things he’d never know about daily life. 

Or it might be a broken light. 

Another memory suddenly greeted him. 

The one where he went to check Waverider’s pod first, instinctively, and moment he realized how afraid he’d been when Waverider finally opened his eyes, the glass sliding away immediately, letting him sit up.

 “We’re up first! How wild is that?” He’d said, dropping down to a kneeling position to be eye-level with him. Waverider blinked once, twice, then chuckled. 

“Pretty wild.” He leaned forward and touched foreheads with Landmine. “So, hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m seeing you again. I told you we’d see each other soon…”

“I know…”

Suddenly, the hand beneath his shifted to grip back, pulling him from his memory and into the present again. The smile that he saw across the table was different again, looking happier than before. 

I just don’t know how to tell you...

 “Can I come to your office tomorrow, then?” 

 Landmine smirked, feeling his own playful nature return in full. 

 “Only if you let me pick out your outfit–and you throw out that awful tie!” 

“By the Primes, Lander–”

“No, I'll even buy the stuff for you. It’ll be my treat,” He insisted, starting to laugh. “The people at my office will kick you out if you walk in with that uncoordinated kind of style!” 

“Oh, then you must have experience in that field,” Waverider joked back, motioning at Landmine’s signature burgundy jacket. 

He had the most smug grin on his face.

“My good sir, I’ll have you know that–” 

But he didn’t finish his sentence.

He’d broken off abruptly, just staring at Waverider for a moment. The clamor of people around them seemed to fade out.

Unsure as to whether it was the wine he'd been drinking or something else entirely, he felt like something was...pulling at him, and he found himself leaning closer and closer until…

Another memory flashed through his mind’s eye. It was of his first experience with a kiss. 

Landmine was sitting in his office, typing away at his laptop. He'd been working at a paper company while he looked for a better job, having set his sights on moving to New York.

He was filling out his application for a position as head of sales at an automotive dealer when he felt a tap on the shoulder.

In the reflection of his computer screen, he could see Waverider's figure before he felt him lean over and rest his head on his shoulder.

"Hey," he murmured, grinning. "Shouldn't you be in a meeting?"

His partner didn't respond, instead leaning over and pressing his lips gently against Landmine's cheek. The blonde froze, obviously startled by the gesture.

Then at last, he cleared his throat, looking up at Waverider, who still had a large smile on his face. He was sure he was flushed, but tried to play it cool.

"And you did that…why?”

“It’s a human custom,” Waverider explained, laughing. “Its called kissing. Saw someone in my office do it with their partner, and I've seen it hundreds of times before that, but didn't know what it was."

"And that is?" He watched Waverider draw back a bit, tapping his chin in thought.

"How do I say...well, it's like...it means affection, or that you care for someone.”

"Alright..." Landmine was still confused, however. “But, I mean...is it platonic or romantic?”

Waverider shrugged. Then, leaned over to kiss Landmine's cheek again.

"That's...up to us, I guess..."

Whatever you wanted it to be, a kiss was. 

Well, he didn't know what this kiss was, but...he knew it felt right. It was better than any word he could speak, or gesture he could make.

And after a moment, he and Waverider leaned back, sat back down, quiet again. But, not an uncomfortable silence. 

He watched his companion smile, start to blush. The dimples in his face showed themselves as he smiled back at him. He ruffled his brownish-blonde hair with one hand, starting to giggle a little. 

Landmine knew it wasn’t going to be long before Waverider would have to return to his job, leaving New York again. They’d be lonely again, even if they called and messaged…

But maybe what they had...didn't need some kind of label, or name. A commitment or a friendship or...something deeper than that...whatever this was.

This still felt alright. As it always had. Something told him Waverider felt that, too. 

He and Waverider had since had many long talks about their academy days. Everything had been laid out, brought up, acknowledged and forgiven.

They had come to understand one another so deeply in all their years since coming to Earth, but especially now, as humans in this current time of peace. 

“No matter what you do, or who you’re with," Waverider murmured, beaming, "I’ll always be here for you. I know I've said that before, but...eh, it's worth saying again.” 

"I know."

"I'm glad!" He laughed again.

He was certainly a little drunk, sure but, he was always like this, Landmine thought.

Waverider had always been a relaxed and fun-loving soul.

“Connected sparks...always find their way back together no matter what, don’t they?” Landmine remarked, flicking a fingertip against his plate.

He felt warm, all the way inside himself, not from the meal or the heater, but...from something else.

Waverider blinked in some surprise for a moment, seeming to take in the words, processing them, before the smile returned to his features.

“Yeah...they really do.”

And, suddenly Landmine took notice of the speaker overhead, as it had started playing something else while they spoke. 

It was a song about humanity–something he and the other Pretenders had learned slowly but surely, was quite relative to what they’d known all their lives.

The truth of existence, which Landmine had found and continued to find with every passing day. 

That it's alright, to be as one is–imperfect, yet persevering.

Bringing what one can to the table of life, giving, speaking, loving and experiencing it all. 

That in that imperfection, life itself was good–contrary of course, to what he’d learned in the Cybertronian Military Academy, which had been wrong about many other things as well. 

Life in many forms, which seeks friendships and connections between others, in its funny, social nature.

Nothing quite in idealistic purity, and often happy in that manner of existing.

That, which altogether, made it truly beautiful to be alive, especially on this Earth.

///

[spookiekewchie]

⛓kinktober 2021- femdom⛓

—all hail the queen you get tonight...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Juice Ortiz x woc!reader

Summary: You know what your man needs even when he doesn't know himself.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: femdom, nicknames (baby, baby boy, good boy, pretty baby), praise kink, mommy kink (just the name used), sub!juice ortiz, oral (f receiving), hand jobs, mentions of pegging, some nipple play, cum eating (blink and you miss it).

A/N:  Day three of kinktober, and we getting subby Juice from SOA. @thewritingdoll here you go bitch! I know you been waiting on this one lmao. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You watch him as he readjusts the magazines on your coffee table for the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes. You don’t say anything, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch your man move across the room and pace the same path a couple times before he starts to organize the scattered items that sit on the table near the door of your apartment. You sigh, you know something is stressing him out and as much as you want to wait for him to tell you what’s wrong on his own, you know how stubborn Juice can be about asking for help.

You give him another five seconds before you speak up.

“Juice?”

“Yeah?” He’s not really paying attention, far too focused on stacking the loose change in the dish. You sigh again, closing the book that you’ve been reading so you can give him your full attention.

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” You question, and you’re not surprised when he stills and avoids looking at you for a moment.

“Nothin’s wrong. ‘m fine.” He lies, and you narrow your eyes again and wait a beat for him to correct himself only for him to pointedly ignore you.

“Juan Carlos, you know better than to lie to me.” Your voice has a slightly sterner edge to it than it did moments prior and you know that Juice hears it by the way that he straightens up almost immediately. You don’t utter his name like this unless you have to, and if your man spiraling and needs you to bring him back down then you will.

“Sorry, I-I just don’t wanna bother you with it, okay?”

“No. Not okay, come here.” You press, shaking your head as you remain sitting on the sofa. “Crawl.” You add a moment later, foot moving to push against the edge of the coffee table to slide it away from you to give him more room to settle in front of you. You can see the conflict on his features, but ultimately lowers himself to his knees and crawls his way over to you on hands and knees. If he doesn’t want things to play out this way he can always safe word, and you’ll find another way to get through to him. But he hasn’t, and you can see something like relief in his gaze as he looks up at you. He knows he can be vulnerable here, and he knows that you care enough to see through his bullshit when he tries to deny that there’s something eating at him.

“Is it something with us that’s bothering you?” You question, and he shakes his head no. You’re at least glad about that even if it leaves just a couple more options. “Is it club business?” He hesitates, sighing as he lets his forehead dip to rest against your knees while his hands curl into fists against his jean clad thighs.

“Kinda…” He admits, and you sigh with a nod. “It’s Clay. He did some shit, and there’s a vote coming up.”

You nod, again. You know why this might be conflicting for Juice, his friendship with Clay is being weighed against his loyalty to the club and it makes sense that it’s something that would eat at him. “I see,” you hum. “Sounds like my baby boy needs a distraction. What do you think?”

Juice looks up at you then, the worry that had been in his gaze shifting to desire so fast that it brings a proud smirk to your lips as you ease your legs apart. He hisses when he sees that under your pretty little sundress you’re not wearing anything, and when he reaches to touch you, you land a stinging slap to the back of his hand.

“I didn’t say you could touch, you have to earn that.” You tsk, reaching out to press a finger under his chin to tip his head back just enough that you can meet his gaze. “Beg me real pretty, and maybe I’ll let you have a taste.”

He groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he eyes you hungrily. He can already feel his cock stirring to life as you let him know exactly what you want. And you know he wants nothing more than to touch you, and bury his face between your thighs and lose himself in you but he also loves how you take control like this. “Please, lemme make you feel good.” He begs, nuzzling against the side of your knee before he tests the waters and ghosts his lips just a little higher. “Need to taste you, please...fuck, please mommy.” He might be willing to submit to you and let you have the reins, but he also knows what buttons to push to get what he wants. That title he uses, he knows how it makes you go damn near feral. It’s a miracle you don’t give in right then and there, but you manage to keep your cool after taking a centering breath and fixing him with a knowing smirk.

“I’m sorry, what was that, baby? You’re gonna have to speak up.” You sigh, feigning uninterest even as the feeling of his lips pressing against your inner thigh has your arousal nearly dripping against the sofa cushions.

“Let me be your good boy, mommy. Lemme bury my face in your sweet cunt, need to make you cum all over my tongue.” He sounds so needy and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing as you lick your lips while you eye him. You know very well how much he craves to be your good boy, every time he gets that praise it just makes him that much more eager to please you. You kiss your teeth, pretending as if you need to think it over, before finally lifting a leg and draping it over his shoulder. You repeat the action with the other, and give Juice a smirk as you beckon him closer with a finger.

You don’t have to wait long for him to react, in a second he’s between your thighs, his mouth on your slick sex and his ringed fingers grip against your thighs. “So eager…” You hum, holding back from praising him just yet. You want to make him work for the praise, and he’s already off to a great start when you feel his tongue dragging through your folds before the feeling of his muffled groan of satisfaction vibrates against your cunt. He repeats the action, teasing the tip of his tongue against your clit for a moment before he lets the fleshy muscle push into your quivering hole. That earns him a loud shameless moan, and your hand resting against the back of his shaved head to urge him to continue.

“That’s it, you know just how to treat mommy’s pussy don’t you?” You moan, hips rocking gently against his face when you feel his hands sliding under your ass to give him a better angle to devour you.

He’s shameless with how he works his mouth against you, the lewd wet noises echo in your ears. If you were capable of it you might even be a little embarrassed by how wet this man gets you, but you love how he worships your body like it’s the most holy thing to him. All he wants is to lose himself in you, and you let him do just that. Relishing in the pleasure that he brings you while he distracts himself from the worries that have been eating away at him.

You moan loudly, hips pressing more against his mouth when you feel his lips seal around your clit, suckling at it and alternating between that and letting his tongue flick at the sensitive bud until you’re squirming in pleasure and need for release. He lingers there a moment, enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips as they only cause his cock to grow harder inside his jeans until it’s straining almost painfully against his zipper. Juice knows better than to let his hands drift anywhere near his cock without your permission, and he won’t even think about it until he’s made you fall apart on his tongue at least twice.

You’re so close that he doesn’t have to wait long for that first one when pushes his tongue into your cunt again, pressing in as deeply as he can get and letting his nose bump against your clit until you're cumming and trembling from the pleasure while your legs close around his head and you ride out the wave. “Fuck...look at you so god damn greedy for me.” You huff out, hips squirming against his face when he doesn’t pull away once your cream has coated his tongue. “Keep going, just like that...fuck that’s it, that’s my good boy!” You cry out, nails scraping gently against the back of his head as he works you up to a second release that has your back bowing up from the sofa.

Moment’s later, after you’ve let that blissful rush of endorphins settle and you can once again think straight, you gently push the man’s head back away from your impossibly wet cunt. You take a moment to admire the mess he’s made of himself before letting your legs slide from his shoulders so you can lean down and catch his lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself against his mouth and it makes you moan softly with a little grin. “You did so good, baby. I think you’ve earned yourself a reward after that.”

He looks utterly blissed out between the taste of you, and the little bit of praise that you’ve started to give him. It’s how you prefer to see him, relaxed, pliant, and happy as he lets you take control and allows himself to be vulnerable and needy. Moment’s like these when he can shut his thoughts off and focus on you and earn your praise make dealing with the club’s shit easier when he has to return to that world. “Be a good boy and strip for me,” you tell him, reaching out to grip his chin in between your fingers. “Nice and slow, mommy wants to admire her pretty boy.” He nearly melts when you call him that, nearly cums on the spot without you so much as glancing at his cock. You smirk as you watch him slowly stand, and do as you order. He takes his time stripping off each layer of clothing, reveling in the way your lust blown gaze drinks him in as he exposes more and more skin to your hungry gaze.

The moment he’s bare you can’t help but reach out to graze your fingers over his cock as it bobs in the air, swollen and dripping precum. He hisses at the barely there contact, and you smirk, reaching with your other hand to pull him down onto the sofa beside you. “I’m honestly too soft on you.” You sigh, hand wrapping around his thick length loosely, a soft chuckle on your lips at the way his hips flex and he whines needily for more. You both know that his earlier lie shouldn’t be rewarded, but you can’t bring yourself to stop now. You’ll just have to work in a punishment later, but for now you’ll indulge. Your grip gets firmer and the moan that it pulls from Juice’s lips is utterly sinful. He presses back into the cushions of the sofa more, hands flexing open and closed for a moment in his need to touch you. A second later he’s asking you so sweetly if he can that you don’t bother denying him. You shift up onto your knees beside him, making it easier to give him ample view of the swell of your breasts hidden under the fabric of your sundress. You hum in contentment at the feeling of the cool metal of his rings running along the back of your thigh.

His hand drifts higher, gliding over the swell of your ass. You smirk, reaching up to pull at the bows that hold your spaghetti straps together so you can tug the top of your sundress down. His hands are on your breasts in an instant, squeezing and kneading, his fingers roll your nipples between the pads until your moaning.

“Fuck...please...feels so good. Wanna make you feel good too.” He murmurs, eyes on your breasts and you can see how badly he wants to get his mouth on you again.

"Come on then, mommy knows you want to." You tell him, and Juice shifts his position to get take one of your hardened peaks into his mouth. Sucking, and teasing at it with nibbles and little bites that leave you gasping and telling him how much of a good boy he is.

Juice loses himself in it all, suckling at your breasts and enjoying the feeling of your hand wrapped tightly around his cock as it pumped up and down. Your wrist twisting with the motion, and your thumb brushing over the swollen tip as you smeared his precum over it. You aren’t surprised when you feel his hips thrusting upwards to fuck into your hand as you grip him, as he chases his high. You slow your pace for a moment, not wanting to send him over the edge just yet despite just how badly and shamelessly he chases after it.

“Does my good boy want to cum?” You tease, loving the muffled whine of frustration that comes out of Juice when your slowed pace drags him away from the blissful edge. He doesn't dare pull away from your breasts though, except to take your other nipple into his mouth and give it that same attention. “Look at you, so fucking desperate for me. Such a good boy aren’t you?” You praise, and pick up the pace of your hand as you stroke him. “Fuck you're doing so good, pretty boy. Keep this up and maybe, just maybe, mommy will stuff that ass of yours with a fat cock.” The praise and the promise are almost his undoing, but Juice holds back with a strained sound. You lick your suddenly dry lips, peering down at the man that’s at your mercy, and you smile, loving the power that he gives up all in the name of being your good boy. “If my good boy wants to cum then he’s going to have to ask me real fuckin’ sweet.”

Juice doesn’t hesitate for a moment, practically preening at your praise before whining and pulling away from you with a wet pop. “Pl-please...may I?” You hum in thought, focusing your attention on the swollen mushroom tip of his cock, letting your thumbnail graze gently over the sensitive flesh. “Fuck—” It’s a strangled curse, and Juice sucks in a harsh breath as he tries to hold it together. “Can I cum? Please, mommy?” You feign having to think about it, taking your time to enjoy how he squirms under your hand and begs you for permission to let go and give into the rush of pleasure that he’s trying desperately to fend off until you say it’s okay.

“So good for me,” you can feel his cock twitch in your grasp as you tell him how good he is, his praise kink always makes him putty in your hands and now is no different. “Look at you, so pretty...so needy. You need to cum so bad don’t you?” You coo, grinning at the frantic nod he gives you as he strains to control himself under your still stroking hand. “Cum for me, pretty baby.” Your hand slips down to tease your manicured nails across his sack, the other hand circling around the head of his cock so your thumb can stroke against his frenulum.

He loses it then, cumming over your hand with a loud groan of pleasure as his spend coats your fingers. You keep stroking at him through it, waiting until he’s panting and half-lidded as the high washed over him. “Baby, you made a mess.” You sigh softly, lifting your fingers to his lips and watching in satisfaction as he cleans his spend from them with his tongue. When he’s done, and you’ve settled more comfortably on the sofa he moves, positioning himself so that he can lay his head on your chest with a sigh of contentment. You know you’ll both move into the bedroom soon enough, but for right now you let Juice lay against you while a hand draws a back and forth path against his arm as it curls around you.

“You feeling better, baby boy?” You question, noting the soft purr that rumbles in his chest as he nods.

[thotsforvillainrights]

hi!! How are u? I hope you doing fine 🥰🥰

I would like to ask for match up pls.

I'm female, heterosexual, I'm either ISFJ/INFP (kinda feels like both 🤷‍♀), an artist, I have pretty intimidating face and I kind of proud of it but at the same time I'm insecure bc no one want to be friends with me 😭😭 but I find myself as introverted, weird, and shy, people didn't know I'm that kind of person since I have rbf 🗿but I'm loud with friends I'm closed with

I have long black haired, brown eyes, fair skin, rbf, my height is 165cm and wearing glasses

Hobby, watch movies, reading books, drawing, listens to music, daydreaming 24h and shopping

I likes anime, manga, novel, fashion, watch romance and horror movies, cooking, dark academia theme and style, animals, love and always wearing black mask (it sad bc covid is almost over 😭) coffee and anything not to sweet

I don't really like sweets I mean I like eat something not to sweet like pudding, coffee cake, any pastries, etc.. I hate pastel colors and anything that cute except cute animals (it just cringe for me I'm sorry), do any works late at night, anyone that annoyed me (I pretty much have anger issues with this one 😀), someone I'm use to know with ignore me, someone with adhd (I'm not hate I know some people had it so I'm said I distance myself), I hate when people makes me wash the dishes, that the only thing I know about myself 🤷‍♀

Positive about me is I'm very supportive, kindhearted, polite, hardworking, independent, forgiving with someone I love, ambitious, curiosity, I'm literally mom of the friends group 😭, concern pretty important for me, patience (depends on my mood)

Negative things about me, I have anger issues (only for those who annoyed/make me angry I'm not 24/7 angry sometimes I try to be more patience), careless, rebellious, stubborn and aggressive

About the aggressive part I love to take hand to hand combat bcuz I took martial art class and I'm good using any dangerous weapon bcuz I love to takes any risk and challenge

From what I tell u from the beginning I have problem to control my emotions, naturally I'm lil shy, emotionless and introverted but when I lost control I hurt people feeling where at the end I feel regret and I embarrass to apologize until now

I'm pretty good when it comes to fashion sense, I like to wear casual dress especially color black and red (I'm not emo and muscular btw) I wear what I feels like it good and makes me confident with my rbf (depends on what the occasion/season) and I wear makeup especially doing ombre lips 😍

I don't show love through words but more to act of service, quality times and physical touch. Too bad I am quite inexperienced when it comes to love but doesn't mean I don't know how to show appreciation

Bonus, I'm not afraid of anything even insects like cockroaches, I do afraid of something but my useless brain didn't tell me what it is rn 🙄👎. I made my own career. I'm very good when it comes to cooking but bad at cleaning.. Like very bad..

Well that the only thing I know about me. and sorry about bad English I hope u understand what I tryna to says and thank you so much 😇🥰 sorry if I didn't notice the typos 😃

(Okie Dokie!!!)

Match-Up #23

-I match you with Yu Hojo-

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Upon first glance he'd thought you were tough as nails and that you didn't like him or the others in the least bit. Why Overhaul would let a woman join the yakuza was beyond him. However, Hojo never questioned the boss considering he'd placed his full trust in him. Maybe you were like him and the others here? Discarded and stomped on by society, trash saved by the leader himself and given another chance at life here with the Hassaikai. Or perhaps he just needed a maid right? A pretty face like yours would do well around here as the maid. The man let his thoughts run wild for at least 2 full days after he found out you were being placed in his team. Little by little you began to open up and confuse Hojo more and more. Just earlier you were sitting there as a menacing aura rolled off of you. Then here you were about 20 minutes later taking care of Tabe and speaking sweetly to him after he'd gotten a paper cut somehow. So which is it? Were you vicious or kind??? Hojo continued on with his work and watched you as the days passed. You started talking more and more with the other two and soon he'd found you were nothing like the facial expression that betrayed you so many times. You were a delightful person to be around compared to him and the rest of the brutes here. He secretly began to beat himself up when he watched you interact with the others. He wanted to be close to you as well, loudly joking about whatever dumb topic was on your mind at the moment but he kept his distance from you and just kept quiet. If it actually hadn't been for Setsuno intervening then Hojo would've never ended up as your partner to begin with. "Look man I'm not trying to get on your ass or play cupid, but I think if you really like the girl you shouldn't hesitate on it. She's become pretty popular around here lately and it's only a matter of time before some snub asks her out. You don't wanna live your life in regret man. You know I could give a shit less about something as fictional as love but I just can't stand the thought of having to deal with you moping around here any longer."

"Moping…have I been moping?" Setsuno sucks air in through his teeth and stares anywhere but at Hojo. "Yeah man. Moping."

-Hojo bites back on the nervousness that crept up on him the day he finally asked you on a date. You happily accepted it because let's face it: Hojo was pretty attractive and free food was involved as well. I'd say the date went fairly well. He asked a lot of questions about you but didn't really air himself out there as much for you. It was likely because he was actually a little shy for the first time in his life. He was a gentleman the entire time and it was clear to see that chivalry wasn't dead when it came to him. The next date that came around you actually ended up asking him out this time and he happily took you up on the offer. This time he incorporated some of the things he learned about you from the first date. He gifts you some anime merch (you should've seen how awkward he looked buying it lol), he offers his car stereo for your full control so you can play music you like, he ever takes you out shopping later…his treat! The third date was an indoor one. You curl up on the couch and show him a few of your favorite horror and romance movies while he snickers at the cheesiness in all of it. He comes up with the idea halfway through to have a drawing date where you both follow a tutorial and show each other the results. His drawing was awful lol. If you've got time left in the date you two cook together (maybe teach him a little something) and you even get to show him some of your favorite books. To be romantic, this man will read them to you if you wanted him to.

-A few more dates and you've basically grown comfortable with each other. It's okay for you to show yourself around him. You can daydream all you want, geek over fashion or cute animals even, or simply infodump everything you know about dark academia to him. He accepts it all with a smile and a little twinkle of interest in his eye. In return you have to take him as he is. He's protective, sometimes stern when he lectures you, but so gentle to you as if you're the most fragile thing he's ever touched. He loves you so much. He does little things here and there to express it rather than saying it as often to you. He'll steal your glasses right off your face and clean smudges off of them with his shirt (even if he's wearing an expensive shirt). He'll try to help you calm yourself if your anger gets out of control. Even if you end up lashing out on him, he's still there no matter what because he knows it's just your emotions making you feel like that. This man will even let you spar with him. He learns the hard way about why Overhaul let you into the Shie Hassaikai after he sees the damage you can do in a fight.

-He's not too much of a needy man so however you show your love to him, he'll take it and cherish it no matter what.

-The man admires your fashion sense and overall style you display. He'll admit to your face that he loves your eyes and your hair most of all. Honestly he's secretly given you a stupid nickname behind your back, his little doe since you remind him of that animal. He's not ever going to tell you this since he's worried you'll hate it lol.

-What you lack in one department, he makes up for in another. So even if you're bad at cleaning, he'll take over and cover that part for you. When you're upset, he'll try to remain calm for you to level things out. He really is a good person to be in a relationship with. He's knows you like the back of his hand after about a year of dating of each other!

[imasimpforstevengrant]

I can see you

Author's note:

First, I never thought I would write a fic after almost two years later. I had this idea after watching a fanmade video about Arthur and Harleen falling for each other. I had fun while writing this, since Arthur is a completely new character (not following the comics). Please note that this is written purely for amusement and I don't profit from it.

Second, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language (Chilean Spanish for the win, everybody!). I hope you like it.

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Warnings: angst, self hatred, a bit of swearing, sexual themes and stalking.

Words: 1.730

Summary: Arthur Fleck doesn't live. He barely manages to exist, devoid of any bond. Until one day, a woman reminds him of how much of a human he is.

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He had seen her several times, but he never had the courage to talk to her. He usually avoided her when she was too close to him.

Arthur knew himself too well to know what would happen: his hated laughing fits. Therefore, he preferred to love her from distance, without her noting his existence. It was better this way.

The first time Arthur saw this young woman was in the hallway. She was going down the stairs to the seventh floor of the building. He cherished every move she did. This stranger danced while listening to music, thinking no one would notice her. She shook her figure as she mouthed passionately the lyrics of whatever song was listening. Arthur hid near the wall that divided the halls, and thus, the apartments.

He glared at her like a predator. His mouth watery caused by the hunger she woke within him. Arthur swore he could feel her in his arms, dancing vehemently to a song. He wondered during long periods of time how it would feel to touch her skin.

His lust was a loud, thundering storm that kept troubling his already cursed mind. But in the outside, the silence suggested indifference.

It kept like this for months. Arthur had also yearned for innocent things, such as a smile or even a kind word from her. He constantly fantasized about her and the guilt and regret fought after the lustful desires roamed through his fractured psyche. This was too much for him to bear. He wrote about the woman in his journal, dedicating pages of misspelled but honest thoughts. Arthur found a new way to cope with insomnia.

It was a rainy day when his feelings took another radical turn. Arthur returned to his flat after another shitty day of work. He headed towards the elevator, pressing the button to open it. He waited patiently. The bell rang and the sliding door opened.

"Fuck!", he hissed lowly when he saw her. She was carrying a bag and had her hair done in buns. Arthur thought she couldn't be more beautiful.

"Hi" she chirped, grinning at him.

"Hi" was all Arthur could reply after his failed attempt to keep his gaze in the ground. Was she actually talking to him? The beloved stranger noticed a trace of blood in his lips and sweetly asked:

"Are you alright?"

He remained silent for a few seconds, studying her expression. It was so kind and sincere.

"Yes".

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her question echoed through his mind. Even her voice turned out to be as smooth as her appearance. Arthur inhaled deeply.

"I am, miss. Thanks for asking" he replied puzzled, trying to figure out why would she even care.

The door opened and she politely waved goodbye to him and wishing him well. Arthur didn't give a verbal answer but he certainly waved back to her.

Arthur smirked. And his gesture did not disappear until he arrived home.

He built a routine in his free time. If he couldn't be with her, he was satisfied enough to watch her. At night, he usually followed her to the now empty playground. The woman was swinging in a rope made out of clothes stretched and extended in what seemed a big, dome-shaped cage like. The blonde had the habit to exercise there, not bothered by some bystanders (mostly men) who whistled at her.

Despite the jealousy that grew within him, Arthur understood it wasn't strange. He surely wasn't the only one after her affections.

He took a liking to this new scene: watching her move as if she was practising a gymnastic routine was fantastic. Her movements were so delicate, yet sensual. She seemed to go along with the air, soaring with it.

But she didn't notice, obviously. The girl would probably had gone running and screaming for help if she had discovered him.

Arthur was wrong. He was so wrong.

One day, he sneaked around wearing his yellow hoodie to preserve his identity. He was outside the building, hiding in the shadows. There she was again: beautiful and unreachable. Her long, platinum blonde hair fell like a waterfall. Arthur was amazed. She moved her arms in a graceful way once again, to flow through it in a twirl that swinged her back and forth. The girl seemed to smile before the risky move, congratulating herself in silence on this apparent progress.

Arthur laughed out loud, amazed. But he soon clasped a hand in his mouth. She turned around immediately to his direction. Arthur felt the panic and tried to run.

She called him. Not berating him but genuinely interested. There was no violence in her voice. Arthur argued with himself over and over about if this was a good idea from the beginning. The man was walking around like a disoriented dog while grasping his curly locks, out of fear and guilt. He stood still for a while, without saying a word.

He then realized the woman kept calling him.

Arthur tightened his eyelids, fighting the urge to run away. He kept still during long seconds until he finally decided to face her. It was now or never. Little did he know that she was just a few feet away from him.

Once Arthur turned around, he almost tripped taking a step away from her. He stared at the young woman: she showed no signs of fear or disgust. In fact, she seemed curious about him. She clawed at the fence that separated the playground from the building and dead end alleys. He imitated the action, staring directly at her eyes, blue like summer sky. She smiled at him, her perfect teeth shining like pearls. And it was in this moment when Arthur could pay more attention to her attributes. The girl in question was the owner of an astounding beauty: expressive blue eyes, pink full lips which formed a sweet smile. And that was only her face. Arthur was infatuated. Her face lit up once her lips curved into such expression. Was she hypnotizing him?

He wouldn’t mind, of course.

Arthur stared at her mouth, and wonders how it would feel against his own cracked, dry lips.

But her body was another wonder. She wore a white, long, sleeveless shirt adjusted to her body shape, leaving nothing to imagination. God, if he only could trace his fingers down her hips he'd die happily.

He continued his private appreciation watching the grey shorts that left her most of her thighs uncovered. He then darted his eyes up to her hair. Her long, slightly wavy strands of hair were dyed in two different colours: the right side was strawberry pink from the half down. Same with the left side, except the colour was a electric blue. It added a dreamy touch to her.

Arthur pictured himself playing with her hair, doing little curls with it. It looked so silky.

"You've been enjoying my show, have you?"

Arthur looked up to her again.

"Yeah" he muttered, ashamed.

"Why the long face, babe? It's not like I'm upset", the woman said.

Arthur stared at her again, but out of confusion.

"Are you not upset?"

"At all" she quickly replied, "I like when people see me, actually".

Arthur felt a cold shudder in his back. It was in this moment he sensed something in his chest. He perceived it as the natural reaction to the first conversation he held with someone else without the other significant being weirded out of him. This common trait was enough to give him hope of a new, happy chapter on his mirthless life.

"Yeah... You know, I like when people see me too".

The woman nodded and leaned her face into the fence. Arthur took a deep breath and it didn't take too long to emulate the pose. She was bold enough to let him come closer to her as if she wanted him to kiss her.

"What's your name?" He hummed against her face.

"Harleen Quinzel", she answered "and you are...?"

"Arthur" he rushed to give his reply, "my name is Arthur Fleck--".

A chuckle escaped his throat.

'Oh, no. Not now, not now please', Arthur silently begged as his loving expression fade away so shame would take its place.

His brain of course showed no mercy.

The laughing fit lasted almost ten minutes. It was the first time in years that he truly believed he was going to die of suffocation. He struggled with choking more than two times every minute. Arthur wasn't completely drawn into his fit. He looked for a fraction of seconds at the girl. Harleen shocked at first. After a few moments, she joined him believing innocently he was laughing out of amusement.

"You know, you can tell me the joke so we can laugh together".

Arthur wasn't able to silence his noisy curse. He only covered his mouth, shaking his head trying to make her see the desperation in his eyes. Harleen's facial expressions morphed from fun to actual worry when Arthur's hand reached his throat in an useless attempt to breathe, still clawing at the fence with the one that left free. Her eyes widened in horror. Arthur felt too powerless to even show her the card explaining his fucking condition. It was alright if she wanted to run away. He already accepted his shameful defeat.

However, to his surprise, she nimbly climbed up the fence to help him. The stalker was too weak to keep standing but when he was crumbling into the ground, Harleen helped him to stand up.

She spoke to him, reassuringly. And she spoke so many things he couldn't process while taking him to a bench to contain him. So far she was a few seconds ago and now she stood with him throughout the painful laughter.

"I'm sorry--" Arthur tried to hide his face in his arm but Harleen seemed to understand... Or at least took pity on him.

The laughing fit finally ended and Arthur got a card from his pocket. He remained silent, disgusted with himself. The blonde took it and read it carefully. Her serene gaze towards the object comforted Arthur slowly. Once she finished reading it, she returned it to his owner. Harleen seemed truly surprised... Or maybe scared. He didn't know and felt too embarrassed to even talk to her. One thing was for sure:

Arthur Fleck never felt uglier in his life.

[randomoneshotsblog]

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 (𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹)

Summary: Y/N is sent for the fight with Simmons but things didn't go as she expected.

Warning: none (RE6 Leon)

Words: 1842

Author's note: I know it took a long time but here it is 🤗 sorry if there are any typos

LEON POV (1 hour ago)

I lost her. I can't believe it.

My breath gets heavy and I fall on the ground, hugging my knees. I'm done, destroyed.

Helena gets closer, extending her hand.

"Leon, it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay." I step away from her touch, dumbfounded with what I just heard.

"Okay? It's not okay! I just lost my fucking girlfriend! And you're saying it's okay?!" I scream getting up while tears stream down my face. Helena jumps with my voice. I turn around, my back facing her and I raise my hand to my forehead.

"My life don't have sense anymore." I whisper. I feel hand on my shoulder. I turn around, revealing Helena with a sad and gently look.

"No, your life has sense. I believe her, you said yourself that she cheats death like anyone. Even if I can't guarantee that, have hope. Like Chris said, they haven't found a body. Maybe she got out of there before they appeared." I stare at her.

I dry my tears and follow my way, Helena behind me.

I keep going like nothing happend, saying nothing. I can see the Tower this way.

"If he really killed her, he's gonna pay." I think while we go towards the Towel. A silence falls on us. I prefer this way. Along the way I just keep thinking of her.

"I hope you didn't go so soon, my love." A few tears fall but I dry them.

We arrived at the elevator. I stare at the world down at us, on flames. I dont know what to think anymore. I feel like I lost a part of my heart, of my soul.

"You really love her, don't you?" Helena asks by my side. I turn my head and give a weak smile.

Suddenly, an explosion happens, that makes the elevator go far.

"Great!" I say, running towards the other elevator. We jump and fall to the other one but it's ready to fall as well. We take its rope and start going up.

While we go up, I hear an explosion from the other side and I see Simmons above the elevator. It seems like Simmons is after someone, but who?

The person is soon revealed when they jump to another surface.

I let out a relieved smile. She's alive.

"Helena, look!" I call her attention. She stops climbing and looks behind.

"I told you she was alive." She says letting out a laugh.

"She cheated death again." I say smiling. We keep climbing, me keeping an eye on Y/N.

I see a surface, Helena jumps on it and I do the same.

"Let's help her!" I say, seeing that she's limping and needing help. I hit him with a few rifle shots. Simmons returns to his human form and Y/N goes above him.

"That's my girl." After a few minutes, the surface falls and we're back climbing. I look down and see Simmons coming towards us ready to attack.

I try to dodge a few attacks, I hear Y/N shooting from the other side.

"Not him!" I hear her say in the earpiece. We climb the rope faster while Simmons falls and falls.

He gets out of the wall and goes towards Y/N. Oh no! He knocks her down making her hit her head. I hear a scream of pain. Her eyes aren't open. She tries to crawl backwards but gives up.

"Y/N!" I scream for her. "Helena cover me." I say jumping to the other surface that leads me to her.

I get closer to her, and I put her head on my thigh. I check her thigh. A bandage, that's why she's limping. Poor baby, she's done.

"Babe, please, stay with me." I say looking at her face, full of pain, I can feel her breathing.

"Wake up, you can do it. I cant lose you." I say my voice breaking, I lower my head for an instant, looking for answer.

"Ah, Love, a weakness. Only destroys." Simmons says, in his human form and getting closer.

"Not from my point of view." I shoot back, I feel Y/N squirming, letting out a moan.

"Ahh!" She starts looking for my face with her hand.

"Le...on." she mumbles. I take her hand and put on my chest, making her feel my heart. Y/N tries to open her eyes, I get my attention back to Simmons that it's looking furious to us and gets closer. I get back to her and see that her eyes are open, I ask her if she's okay.

Simmons strikes and I hug Y/N, protecting her. I don't care if I die, if she's okay, my soul will be as well. She hugs me stronger.

When the attack ends, we step back and look at each other. I see doubt in her beautiful, brown eyes. I gasp at knowing that she's here, alive. She gives me a weak smile in return.

I get up, helping her, she is still limping and having a hard time to get up. I see Simmons coming towards us.

"Stay close. The leg doesn't look good." I say aiming at him but moving my head towards her leg.

Simmons starts transforming again and I start shooting at him.

"Helena, a little help here." Y/N says on the earpiece, I let out a laugh.

Simmons falls and go to his direction until he gets me and throws me to the edge of the surface making me fall but I can hold myself with my hands. I see Simmons coming closer, I grip harder at the surface.

"Leon! Your bastard!" I hear her say. He starts kicking my hands. "Do you want to live? Then, begg! Begg for your life!"

"I'll pass." I say back, starting to breath faster. Suddenly, I hear a gunshot and see Simmons falling from the surface. I stand on the surface. I see Y/N coming towards me, limping. So beautiful.

"Are you okay?" She asks worried while I'm just staring at her. At this moment, I realised how much I loved her, I'd give my life for her. Die for her. That's the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with.

"Leon..." I get closer and close the gap between our bodies. I put together our lips in a deep kiss. I pull her closer to my body. Her lips, sweet and soft, caressing mine. I missed this so much. I can feel my heart beating, so fast. I can smell her feminine perfume. Ah, how I love it. I put my hands on her waist. Her hands are passing to my neck to my hair. She pulls my hair making me growl. She opens her mouth giving entrance to my tongue. Our love surrounding us. I leave lovely kisses on her neck making her gasp. I hug her, like my life depends on it.

"I love you, I love you." I say, hugging her, tightly.

"I'm never letting you go. Never." I think. I step away and look at her eyes, intensely. I'd look at them all day, if I could, I'll never get tired. She raises her hand to touch my face, I close my eyes, enjoying the moment.

"I love you too." She says back, a tear falling. She kisses my cheek.

"I hate to break the moment but a chopper is on its way to get us back, I think it's better if you guys come here." Y/N nods, laughing.

I look at her and take her hands. "Let's?" She nods.

On the way, I offer my help to carry her, because she was limping a lot. I'm starting to get worried about her leg. I'm happy that everything ended well. I hope we can live our lives now.

Y/N POV (now)

We arrived home, safely. I'm still limping and with a little pain, Leon is behind me. We got in and he closes the door. Now, I'm stopped in front of the door, facing our living room. I dont know what to do. I dont know if I take a shower or do other things now.

"Babe, what is it?" Leon comes and put a hand on my back. I turn around.

"Ah, nothing. It's nothing." I step away from him, tired. "I'm gonna take a shower." I say going to our room to get the clothes then the bathroom. A hot shower that's what a need. I put my clothes with blood in the basket and get in the shower. You can already see the hot steam. I stand there, just feeling the hot water on my body.

"Ah, this is nice." I think out aloud. I'm feeling my hurt leg get weaker. I force my other leg. While I'm on my thoughts, I hear the box door opening. In a few seconds, big and warm hands are on my waist.

"Leon." I mumble. He whispers in my ear. "Are you okay?" He's leaving kisses on my neck, now. I take my time to answer.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay." I turn around and get the soap to wash myself.

After a few minutes, of kisses and taking a shower, Leon and I are in the sofa, he's taking care of my wound.

"Since when I have wounds and you dont?" I say, mocking since I always take care of his wounds.

"I do but not that ugly, this time." He speaks sitting next to me, and looking at my wound.

After we're done, we cuddle on the sofa. "Leon, I need to talk to you." I raise my head from his chest to stare at him. He looks at me, serious.

"Why your eyes were red earlier? Did something happen?" He looks down, uncomfortable. I get confused.

"Chris told me that your helicopter was knocked down, and... and... He told me there was no survives..." I start to build the puzzle. That's why he was so weird earlier.

"Ah." I say, ashamed. He raises his head. "It was at that moment that I realised that you are the woman of my life. If people want to hurt us, hurt me, not you. If something happens to you, I'll surely will blame myself. For not protecting you better." I hug him. His arms tightening around my waist.

"No, don't say that. I dont like when you put me before yourself. You worry about my life before yours, but I don't. I worry about you life, Leon. You are the man of my life. That man that I looked my whole life, and I found where I never expected." We step away, I say looking at his eyes.

"When the words 'I love you' gets out of my mouth, I'm not throwing them. They're my feelings, the ones that I cant express enough." He lays his head on my chest and hiccups softly.

"I love you, Leon. Always and Forever." I kiss his head.

"I love you, my love."