#the sparkles are not too much op :)

[glass-clown]

[ID: A screenshot of tags by @faelovers that reads, "It's interesting seeing this as someone with a big interest in dolls and closely follows the market trends and companies, cause like if you follow these brands and their releases you know that toy companies have been struggling. The manufacturing costs are increasing and kids are less interested in physical toys and for a while collectors have been very disappointed in releases from Mattel specifically, while their rival company MGA has been very successful recently with the collector and tween market for their Bratz revival and with their Rainbow High brand which took a lot of inspiration from the success of Mattel's success with Monster High in the 2010's. This movie seems very much made to appeal to nostalgia and the 'kidult' market interested in Barbie again. After a long time of her being either the lame sister to Monster High or a brand collectors are giving up on, these corporations are really wanting adults to buy into their brands and Mattel's only play atm is nostalgia and the Barbie name brand because Barbie products haven't been on par with their competitors for a long time. This is so boring and corporate but I've been following these trends since I was like 12 lmao. Autistic gals got to be boring about something." /END OF ID]

is the creativity in the room with us right now .

[wethotcrazy]

Tsunoda or Verstappen x princess reader where the media catches them?

Max Verstappen’s Mystery Girlfriend Revealed—She’s a Princess!

pairing: Max Verstappen x Princess! Reader

word count: 951

a little short fic im a little unsure of this but i think its cute. i have never written for max so i hope you like it.

The hum of engines filled the air as the Belgium Grand Prix roared to life, the energy palpable even beyond the track. It was in this electric atmosphere that Max Verstappen, Red Bull’s ace driver and reigning Formula 1 champion, first crossed paths with Princess Y/N of a small but wealthy European kingdom. She wasn’t there for pomp or ceremony, but for her unshakable love of motorsports. Her fascination with engineering had brought her into the paddock, under the guise of a “guest of honor,” though she was far more interested in torque ratios than champagne receptions.

Max had noticed her standing near the Red Bull garage, her eyes sparkling as she watched the pit crew fine-tune his RB19. She wasn’t like the other VIPs who came to the paddock for photo ops. She asked questions—intelligent ones—about the aerodynamics of the car and how it adapted to the tricky Spa-Francorchamps circuit. When she turned to him and asked, “How does it feel to handle Eau Rouge at full throttle?” Max couldn’t help but grin.

“Pretty thrilling,” he replied, his Dutch accent softening his words. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

She blushed but didn’t shy away. “I might’ve simulated it once or twice,” she admitted, and Max’s laughter was genuine.

From that moment on, they were inseparable that weekend. Between practice sessions and qualifying, Max found himself looking for Y/N in the crowd, her royal guards standing at a respectful distance while she chatted animatedly with engineers. She was intelligent, quick-witted, and refreshingly down-to-earth for someone who could probably claim ownership of a castle or two.

By the end of the weekend, they had exchanged numbers. What started as lighthearted banter and shared interests evolved into long, late-night calls discussing everything from racing to the struggles of living under the public eye. Max learned that Y/N had been fascinated by motorsports since she was a child, but her royal duties had always kept her at arm’s length from the world she loved. Y/N, in turn, found Max’s straightforwardness and his dedication to his craft intoxicating.

From then on, Max and Y/N were inseparable. Between races and royal engagements, they carved out moments just for themselves. Sometimes it was a late-night call after a long day, Max’s voice soothing as he recounted the chaos of the paddock. Other times, it was quiet afternoons strolling through parks in cities they barely knew, their laughter blending into the rustle of leaves.

Max was careful not to share too much in public, but he couldn’t entirely hide his happiness. In interviews, he would casually mention his “girlfriend” with a sly smile, never elaborating but always leaving fans buzzing. Clips of him dropping hints circulated endlessly on social media, fueling theories and debates about who the mysterious woman could be.

Their secret didn’t last forever.

It happened one sunny afternoon in Monaco, where Max and Y/N were enjoying a rare day off together. A candid photo surfaced online of them sitting on the edge of the marina, her hand resting lightly on his knee as they watched the boats sway in the harbor.

The internet exploded. “Max Verstappen’s Mystery Girlfriend Revealed—She’s a Princess!” read one headline. Others followed, speculating wildly about their relationship.

For a moment, the world seemed to close in. Reporters hounded them both, and social media was flooded with opinions—some supportive, others less so.

Max, however, remained unfazed. During the next press conference, when asked about the rumors, he simply shrugged. “We’re happy,” he said, his voice steady. “That’s all that matters to me.”Y/N faced her own challenges. Her advisors worried about the implications of such a public relationship, but she met their concerns with quiet resolve. “Max is kind, driven, and genuine,” she told them firmly. “He makes me happy. This is not up for discussion.”

Despite the noise, they didn’t let the spotlight dim their connection. Instead, it seemed to strengthen their bond. Y/N became a quiet force in Max’s corner, offering him calm reassurance during stressful race weekends. Max, in turn, encouraged Y/N to pursue her passion for engineering, helping her connect with teams and experts in the field. Their love only grew stronger in the face of scrutiny. Between the whirlwind of races and royal duties, they found comfort in each other. Y/N often joined Max in the paddock, where she quickly became a beloved presence. Mechanics respected her keen interest in their work, while Max’s team appreciated the grounding influence she brought to his often-hectic life.

On their quieter days, they escaped the chaos entirely. Max taught her how to kart, laughing as she spun out on the first few laps but cheering her on when she finally nailed a clean run. Y/N, in turn, introduced him to her world—showing him the intricacies of royal life and sneaking him into her palace’s private library, where they would talk for hours.

At the Austrian Grand Prix, Max took her on a private tour of the Red Bull factory. Watching her excitement as she examined the intricate details of the car made his heart swell. “You’re amazing,” he told her, his voice filled with awe.

Though their story seemed unlikely to outsiders, it made perfect sense to them. They shared a love for pushing limits, for the thrill of speed and the beauty of innovation. Most importantly, they found in each other a kindred spirit—someone who understood the weight of expectation but refused to let it define them.

And so, they continued forward, hand in hand, their hearts racing not just for the thrill of the track or the demands of the crown, but for each other.

[st4rpiece]

tall girl epidemic

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, kidd x reader summary: op men who love tall women CW: jealousy (kidd) but aside from that just fluff [specified reader physical traits include: height (obviously), body scars, and multiple different body types (chubby/curvy, buff/muscular, skinny/slim)]

─────────────⋆ฺ｡*:･

Monkey D. Luffy

Since meeting you, Luffy hasn’t stopped lifting you up into the air for the silliest reasons. He wants a snack? Suddenly, you’re in his arms, tagging along to the kitchen. Running from an enemy? There you are again, scooped up like you’re part of the escape plan. It didn’t matter the situation—if Luffy decided it was easier to carry you, he’d do it without hesitation.

At first, it caught you off guard. After all, you weren’t exactly small. At 6’5, you were taller than most, and your solid frame was a testament to years of training and battle. You weren’t delicate or light, and yet Luffy carried you like it was nothing, grinning all the while like hauling you around was as easy as lifting a feather.

“Doesn’t this ever get tiring?” you’d finally asked one day, your tone half-amused, half-exasperated as he picked you up for the third time in a single afternoon.

He tilted his head, flashing you that carefree smile of his. “Nope!”

“Seriously?”

He giggled, spinning you once before setting you down gently. “I just like having you in my arms! You’re fun to carry.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a toy, Lu. If anything, I should be carrying you. It makes way more sense.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’ve carried me before,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the occasional over the shoulder ride after a battle evened the score. “So it’s only fair I get to carry you too!”

You didn’t have much of a rebuttal for that, so you just sighed and let him have his way. Truthfully, you didn’t mind all that much.

Being with Luffy was exciting—not just because of the adventures or the friends you’d made thanks to him, but because of how he made you feel. You’d never been the type to consider yourself “delicate” or “soft.” You were a warrior in your country, someone who had earned her place through grit and strength. Your body bore the scars of countless battles, and your imposing stature had always been enough to make others think twice before approaching you.

But none of that seemed to matter to Luffy.

He never treated you like you were intimidating or unreachable. Instead, he saw you in a way no one else ever had—as someone strong, yes, but also someone worth cherishing. He didn’t limit your freedom or strength, didn’t try to box you into a role that didn’t fit. But somehow, even with all that respect, he still managed to make you feel like a fragile princess in the best way.

And it was never in a way that undermined who you were. He’d wrap you up in his stretchy arms when you were upset, pulling you into one of his over-the-top hugs, but he’d laugh and tell you how cool you looked when you took down an opponent twice your size, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“That was amazing!“ he’d say with the same enthusiasm he gave to talking about meat or a beetle, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was strange at first, this mix of being treated like someone soft and someone indestructible, but Luffy had a way of balancing both without ever making it feel forced.

It was early in your relationship, when both developed the habit of sitting on the deck and watching the stars after dinner. You would fiddled with the brim of his hat that rested on your head as he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

“You know,” you started, your voice softer than usual, “I don’t really get you sometimes.”

“Huh? What’s there to get?” he asked, turning to look at you with wide, curious eyes.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Just… the way you treat me, I guess.”

“What about it?”

“It’s just different from what i’m use to,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the deck. “Most people either treat me like I’m too strong to need anyone or that I’m not…feminine enough to deserve proper treatment.”

Luffy frowned at that, sitting up and tilting his head. “That’s dumb.”

You looked at him, a little startled by the bluntness of his response. “What?”

“They’re dumb,” he said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re strong and you’re pretty. Why would it be one or the other?”

His words were so straightforward, so unfiltered, that you didn’t know how to respond. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust his hat.

“Anyway,” he continued, leaning back on his hands again, “I like you and the crew likes you just the way you are. And if other people can’t see how awesome you are, that’s their problem, not yours.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his words settle over you. Then, with a small smile tugging at your lips, you reached over and gently tugged on his cheek.

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind your words.

“And you love it,” he teased, grinning as he leaned into your hand.

You couldn’t argue with that. And honestly, you didn’t want to. He was right, you did love it.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro claimed he didn’t have a type. He wasn’t exactly experienced in the dating world, and honestly? He’d settle for the first person who asked him out. His standards when it comes to dating were low, maybe embarrassingly so. He figured relationships didn’t need to be complicated, and it doesn’t help that romance isn’t something he gives much thought to.

His ideologies for sure had Nami rolling her eyes so hard she nearly sprained something while she “convinced” him to go on this blind date. (Probably just mentioned sake).

“Don’t embarrass me,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Just…try to be normal.”

Zoro wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, but here he was, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant and already regretting the whole thing. He didn’t have much in the way of expectations, and if he was being honest, he’d already been planning how to politely bail when the evening inevitably turned awkward.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was you.

When the doors opened and you walked in, Zoro thought for a second that maybe Nami had set him up as some kind of joke. You were…tall. Really tall. At least 6’7, towering over everyone else in the room like it was nothing. But it wasn’t just your height that threw him for a loop. No, it was the way you carried yourself—strong and confident, with curves that made his mouth feel suddenly dry.

And then you smiled.

It was the kind of smile that could light up a whole damn room, warm and genuine, and Zoro had no idea what to do with himself. He froze in place, staring at you like an idiot as you approached the table.

But just as you reached it, you bumped into the corner, your face twisting into an embarrassed grimace as you muttered a barely audible, “Sorry.”

You adjusted your stance quickly, smoothing out your clothes before meeting his gaze. The confident smile returned, but there was a hint of nervousness in your eyes now as you introduced yourself, “…and you must be Zoro.”

Zoro blinked, realizing he’d been sitting there silently like a moron. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Uh…yeah. That’s me.”

For the first time in a long time, Zoro didn’t know what to say. You were stunning—intimidatingly so, but not in a bad way. More like in a way that made him feel completely unprepared.

“I, uh…didn’t expect…” He trailed off, realizing how stupid that sounded. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the words. “I mean…it’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled again, a little softer this time, and sat down across from him. The chair groaned slightly under your weight, but you barely seemed to notice. Zoro, however, was hyper-aware of everything about you—the way your hair framed your face, the faint scent of your perfume, and the way you fiddled with your hands nervously even though you looked like someone who could crush him without breaking a sweat.

“So,” you said, your voice breaking the silence, “should we just dive into the awkward small talk, or do you want to skip straight to figuring out if we’re compatible?”

Zoro smirked, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Depends. What kind of small talk are we talking about?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, leaning in just a little, “what’s the deal with Nami setting us up? She made it seep like you were being held at gun point when you agreed to come.”

Zoro let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s ‘cause I was. Basically told me that I needed to stop being a ‘grumpy loner’ and put myself out there.”

“Well, are you a grumpy loner?” you teased, arching a brow.

“Depends on the day,” he replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

The conversation began to flow more naturally after that, and Zoro found himself surprisingly at ease in your presence. You were funny, sharp-witted, and refreshingly down-to-earth. And despite your intimidating height and striking appearance, you had this endearing mix of confidence and awkwardness that made Zoro’s chest feel…weird. Warm, maybe.

He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but one thing was certain: Nami might’ve been onto something.

And as the night went on, Zoro started thinking that maybe—just maybe—he had a type after all.

God Usopp

Usopp’s ability to turn his lies into facts never failed to amaze his crew, no matter how many times it happened. Whether it was fooling enemies into thinking he had an army at his back or convincing others he’d singlehandedly taken down giants, his bluffs always seemed to find a way to come true.

But this time, it felt like he might’ve gone too far.

The night had started innocently enough. They’d walked into the bustling bar, ready to unwind after a long day, and Usopp had quickly taken center stage, boasting to anyone who’d listen about his supposed luck with women. According to him, he had a magnetic charm—women practically threw themselves at him. He spun story after story, weaving tales of effortless flirtations and grand romances, all while nursing his drink like it was the elixir fueling his confidence.

The crew had been amused, as usual, letting him have his moment. That was, until he pushed his luck.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Usopp declared suddenly, slamming his glass down on the table for dramatic effect. “The next woman who walks through that door, I’ll ask her out!”

“Yeah, right,” Zoro snorted, leaning back in his chair with a skeptical smirk.

“Bet you a thousand berries you’ll chicken out,” Sanji added, lighting a cigarette.

Even Luffy was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying the show.

Fueled by their jeers and the buzz of alcohol in his system, Usopp puffed out his chest, confidence radiating off him. “Wait and see! I’ll show you virgin’s how it’s done!”

And then the door swung open.

You walked in, tall, curvy, and striking, with an air of quiet shyness that somehow made you even more intriguing. Your height was intimidating, sure—enough to make most people hesitate—but that didn’t stop the crew’s attention from snapping right to you.

Unfortunately for Usopp, his confidence evaporated the second he saw you. His jaw dropped slightly, and he sank lower in his seat, as if trying to disappear.

Too hot. Way too hot, he thought, panic rising in his chest.

There was absolutely no way he could approach you. But before he could retract his bold declaration, Luffy—ever the instigator—practically shouted across the bar:

“Hey Usopp, a girl just walked in!”

The room went quiet for a beat, every head turning toward your direction—including yours.

Usopp froze, his face turning beet red as the crew burst into laughter at his horrified expression. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

“Don’t back out now, lover boy,” Zoro teased, raising his glass.

Sanji smirked, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Yeah, come on lover boy. Show us “virgin’s” how it’s done.”

It took a solid five minutes of relentless goading, prodding, and Sanji’s smug remarks before Usopp finally caved. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself across the bar toward your table, his nerves threatening to take him out entirely.

You, meanwhile, had been watching the whole ordeal out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. It was obvious the group of men was teasing him, but when you saw him hesitantly approach your table, his cheeks flushed and his hands fidgeting at his sides, something about his awkward determination made your heart skip.

“H-Hey,” he stammered, stopping in front of you. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact as he forced himself to speak. “I, uh… I couldn’t help but notice you walked in, and, um…I just wanted to say you look—uh—really nice. Really, uh…really pretty, actually.”

Your face warmed at his words, and you offered him a small smile. “Thank you,” you said softly, finding his obvious nerves oddly endearing.

He exhaled sharply, relieved that you hadn’t immediately brushed him off. “So, uh…I was wondering if I could maybe, um, buy you a drink? If you don’t mind, that is.”

He was a stuttering mess, barely able to hold your gaze for more than a second, but his earnestness was hard to ignore.

You chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sure. I’d like that.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking, your initial shyness melting away as you realized just how much you had in common. Usopp, despite his earlier bluster, turned out to be easy to talk to once he got past his nerves. He told you about his adventures (embellished, of course), and you shared a few stories of your own, laughing at his exaggerated reactions.

By the end of the night, the two of you were sitting closer, your heads nearly touching as you exchanged quiet words amidst the noisy bar. When he finally asked for your number—his voice cracking slightly as he did—it was an easy “yes.”

When he returned to his crew, they were in shock.

“Huh, you actually got her number?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sanji looked like he was about to faint. “How?!”

Even Luffy was impressed, clapping Usopp on the back with a wide grin.

Usopp grinned cheekily, slipping his hands into his pockets as he tried to play it cool. “What can I say? The ladies can’t resist the great Captain Usopp.”

But the blush on his face—and the way his gaze kept darting back to you—told a different story.

Eustass Kidd

Kidd wasn’t a small guy—not in height, not in build, and definitely not in personality. He was used to being the one towering over others, the one commanding attention in every room. But then there was you.

You weren’t exactly small, either. You were tall enough to meet his gaze, tall enough that he had to actually look up when you wore certain shoes. And somehow, that fact alone drove him up the wall. It wasn’t just your height, either—it was the way you used it. The way you leaned down just enough to get in his face during arguments, a teasing smirk on your lips that made his blood boil. It wasn’t clear whether he wanted to bite you or kiss you senseless. Hell, maybe both.

Your slim, graceful frame only added to your air of superiority, and the way you carried yourself—poised and unapologetically confident, like some untouchable princess—clashed with Kidd’s brash, rough-edged demeanor in ways that sent sparks flying.

The first time you joined his crew, he’d made it very clear he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “This ship has no room for some tall, prissy princess who can’t even fight properly,” he’d snarled, his tone biting.

Yet, every time the idea of you leaving came up, he was the first to shoot it down. He always had some half-baked excuse—“We need the extra hands,” or “No one else can handle that task but her.” But the truth was glaringly obvious to everyone but him: he didn’t want you to go.

You, of course, loved to needle him about it. Whether it was teasing him about his temper, calling him “short” just to see him fume, or subtly challenging his authority just to watch him rise to the bait, you knew exactly how to get under his skin.

And right now, you were doing it without even trying.

The crew was docked on an island for the day, giving everyone a much-needed break. While Kidd had been supervising repairs to the ship, you’d wandered off, only to bump into an old friend. Kidd hadn’t paid much attention until he turned around and saw you hugging some guy—a scrawny, soft-looking guy at that.

Normally, you brushed off men as if they were flies, always quick with a sharp word or a cold glare if they got too close. But now? You were smiling. Laughing. Letting this guy get all touchy, and even worse, you didn’t seem to mind. You’d even waved off the crew, saying you’d catch up later as you wandered off with him.

It was the first time Kidd had seen you without that infuriating sass, without the sarcasm or biting wit. And he hated it. He hated the way his chest tightened when you walked away. Hated the fact that the sight of you being soft with someone else was enough to ruin his mood for the rest of the day.

When you finally came back to the ship, he was waiting for you at the gangplank, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Is that seriously your type?” he asked as soon as you got close.

You froze, your brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Thought you would’ve had better taste,” Kidd said, scoffing. “That guy was so scrawny, it’s pathetic. There’s no way he could handle someone like you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh? And who said I wanted to be handled?”

His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re a brat,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Someone’s gotta handle that.”

You raised a brow, stepping closer, your tone dripping with mockery. “And who exactly do you think could “handle” me? You?”

Kidd let out a sharp laugh, one that had the crew glancing over in curiosity. “Damn right,” he growled, and before you could say another word, he grabbed you.

With an ease that startled you, he hoisted you over his shoulder, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the way you immediately started struggling.

“Kidd! Put me down, you overgrown idiot!” you shouted, kicking your legs as he started walking.

“Try asking nicely, princess,” he said with a cocky grin, as he continued to carry you below deck as if you weighed nothing.

By the time he dumped you onto the mattress in his quarters, you were fuming, your face hot with embarrassment. You scrambled to sit up, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he cut you off, stepping closer and leaning down just enough to cage you in.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice though quieter now, was still rough around the edges. “Always in my face, always mouthing off, always making me question whether I hate you or…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering down to your lips before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. “Or what?” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

“Or want you,” he finished bluntly. “And I’m sick of pretending it’s not the second one.”

Your heart skipped at his confession, and for once, you were at a loss for words. You’d always assumed he couldn’t stand you—that all the bickering and banter was just part of his general dislike for you. But now, with the way he was looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically soft, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he straightened slightly, his voice dropping. “Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you completely off guard, your cheeks heating as you stared up at him. Kidd never asked for anything—he just took. But now, with his sharp edges momentarily softened, waiting for your answer, it made your chest ache in a way you didn’t expect.

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded slowly. “Yeah,” you murmured.

The moment your words left your mouth, Kidd closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle. It wasn’t rushed or forceful—it was steady, deliberate, and filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a rare, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re still a brat,” he muttered, his voice laced with affection.

“And you’re still an overgrown idiot,” you shot back, though there was no venom in your words.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw. “And yet you let this overgrown idiot kiss you.”

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that—not this time. Instead, you leaned up, pulling him back into another kiss, letting it speak for you instead.

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One Piece Masterlist

not proofread!!

i imagined reader to be over 6’ for those whose heights aren’t explicitly stated. also i am not tall so i hopefully i did the tall girlies justice!!

[willing to do a part two of this with any other op men or women :p]

also happy new year!!

[solar4seekstron]

Sparkling Trapped

TFBayverse!Yandere!Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Content: 18+, Soft Yandere Optimus then Possessive Yandere Optimus later near the end. OP is in LOVE with Reader

TW/Tags: A few smut scenes (Will be in red), Bit of Noncon, a little bit of Megatron x reader, Manipulation, Takes place after the events of tf5 (if you want one in another movie instead let me know), Reader is basically who they are but not a knight but still joined the Autobots, mild cursing, smut will be in purple as usual, I think that’s all.

Notes: Before the war- I imagine Megatron looks like he does in TLK and OP looks like his form in 2007. This is connected to my bayverse introduction, but like different alternate universe. You’ll understand once you start reading.

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

When you and Optimus were much younger, you both met when he was just announced as a knight by the others. But the two of you couldn’t really talk thanks to him being so busy.

You worked in delivery and one days you noticed a certain clerk there.

He really liked his red and blue color scheme.

He didn’t ever notice you there though. So while you made your way to the archives. You saw him he was looking over some data pads and speaking to other archives.

He seems concentrated so you decided you’ll stick around and wait for him to notice you. ..Eventually.

And so you looked over a few data pads and reading over the knights adventures written. Some of them seems like a certain someone named Sentinel told the writers to write certain things in the data pads.

You chuckled as you continued to read over a few. Sitting in a chair sort of in the middle of a lobby. Though don’t hear a certain bot coming up behind you. A few data pads held in one arm as the other is down.

He looked down at you. He’d look at what you’re reading, leaning a bit over you.

You were reading about one of the 12 knights who stayed on earth. He’d soon have a warm smile on his dermas. He never forgot about you.

As he moves infront of you, him passing made you notice him. He soon starts conversation.

”Fascinated by the tales of the fellow brothers are you?”

You’d give a small nod as you let out a soft chuckle.

“You were too busy to ask directly. I wish to learn what happened somewhere from all of these years.” He takes a seat next to you as he listened.

”Well if you truly are that interested in learning about the knights. How about we arranged..a date?” He looked down at you with narrowed optics.

“Date?” You ask curious. Him then letting out a deep chuckle. “A day to meet….of course.”

You did have a bit of a small blush as you looked up at him. He stared at you for a moment. You then nod as you then spoke. “Sounds like a plan. Where to?”

You ask as Optimus smile only grew a bit more as he gently took your cervo and kisses the back of it. Then speaks of the place and date before standing and walking to the other archivists.

He then stopped and his helm turned a bit to glance at you. Blue optics bright. “Until then.”

———————————————————————————

The date went as wonderful as you can imagine.

A place of the nicest energon you can eat as he told you of his adventures and stories with Sentinel and the others.

His choice to step down as a knight and to live as a clerk while Sentinel took on the more higher up jobs.

Along with how he also hoped to start a family. You too would tell him of your past and your story. Being a weapon specialist and delivery bot at the same time.

After splitting the check (something you deeply encouraged him to do with you) you both walked out and went for a stroll through the city. Eventually when the night sky was dark, yet so bright from the stars.

You and Optimus stopped your talking and would look at each other. Your night ending with a kiss.

Passionate. Long. A little heated at the end

Until it was time to return home. The two of you planning for more “dates” when you both didn’t work and when Hound and th others didn’t need you. You would go on to meet Optimus closest friends.

Sentinel, Megatronus, Elita-. It was an interesting meet up.

You and Optimus continue to get closer and closer.

Years went by and as your and Optimus courtship soon started.

———————————————————————————

You and Optimus were in you apartment. You were on his lap. You cervos against his chest as soft moans and sighs leave your dermas. Optimus under you in the berth as he held your waist. Looking up at you with almost closed optics.

Your valve tightly around his spike. The pleasure almost uncontrollable. He is rather girthy.

His spike twitching inside you as he gets closer to overload in you. Your valve clenching tightly. Causing him to constantly groan and let out rough moans.

Your body moving up and down in a slow but touch paste. His cervos almost putting dents in your frame while your own ceros scratch at his chest. He watched you with dark blue optics.

His helm leaning back against the berth as he closed his optics tightly.

Eventually as you got closer to your own climax you were fast to move the paste. You soon creating louder moans as Optimus does the same. Metal against metal being heard in the dim room.

His larger cervos gripping into your waist tightly.

Almost hurting. But the pain his cervos gave you isnt what caught your attention.

He wanted to overload in you. He wanted you to have his sparkling. Before he can finish inside you. You lifted up your hips. His load landing on his leg and on the berth as you stayed over him.

You’d look down at him. His helm turned to the side as he calmed down from his climax. His arms wrapping around your waist and brings you closer.

Your frame closer to his. Soon flushed against his as your helm rests against between his neck and chest.

One of his cervos on your lower back and the other on your upper back. Your valve against his spike. Almost like a sting since your valve is pretty sentiative.

Your cervos still on his chest as you finally calm down as well.

You knew he wanted to cum in you..but why? You both never talked about it…so why?… He then turned his helm to look at you. Gently kissing your forhelm as he moved the cervo once on your upper back moved to gently hold your chin.

Making you look at him. You slowly opening your optics.

His dermas soon connecting with yours. Both of you letting out soft sighs as you both held each others embrace. When you both pulled away. He’d then put the cervo once on your chin back to your upper back.

He’d then look out the window. Tinted so no one can see inside….He lets out a soft sigh as he feels you softly sleep on him. He almost looked angry. Not being able to load into you.

Seeming almost angry with himself as his arms around you grip only tighter.

But he wont give him…until you are with his sparkling.

———————————————————————————

One day though while packing up your deliveries with the twins, Megatronus came to you with an idea he has. At the time he was still named Megatronus.

As you both spoke. The twins excused theirselves thanks to Megatronus looking scary.

“Y/N please if we do this we can make the planet a better place for the lower class! Sentinel and Optimus won’t listen to me. But Soundwave and Shockwave have a plan! With your skills and mind we can create a most powerful cause!”

”Megatron-“ He took the box you were holding and gently grabbed your cervos.

“Please for the children and those yet to be born. Join me!” You just stared at him as he kept looking at you with blue optics. You’d then glance to the side. He can tell you were deep in thought.

“Megatronus..I just-“

“I’ll return to Optimus. Maybe if I say I spoke to you he’ll change his mind! Meet us at the archives once you made your choice!”

He then runs off.

You stood there before looking down at your boxes…maybe he had a point?…

But you never made the choice. You’d make your way to the archives to try to talk some sense to Megatronus with Optimus. But….then the explosions happen..

———————————————————————————

Millions of years went by. You and Megtron always fighting each other.

You by Optimus side as you all fought against the Decepticons. Eventually the time came when you and Optimus couldn’t agree with each other.

He chose earth over the planet. You understood but couldn’t rule under him much anymore. You two barely able to see each other anymore. You becoming the one that got away.

You, Hound, Crosshairs, and Drift all staying far from the events including Optimus as you all handle smaller situations on other parts of the world like small towns.

You and Optimus reuniting when he calls for the five of your help at a desert.

There has has his old night look. You with Crosshairs was skeptical about the humans who came with him. Your guard only going down a little when Optimus mentioned they saved him.

Later that night everyone watched the death of Ratchet. You held back your tears as Optimust took a knee in respect of his fallen friend.

You just looked away. Finding it hard to watch your old friend get attacked as he call for helm. Hound placing a cervo on your shoulder to comfort you. Something Optimus noticed but said nothing.

Returning to look at the scene as you stayed close to Hound.

At some point during the night as the others and humans have fallen asleep. Optimus took te first night of patrol. But then you felt a poke at your hood. When you awaken it was Optimus telling you to follow him.

It must be important if he’s waking you up instead of the others.

Once you both were far enough. Making it to the cliff of one of the mountians. He transformed first. Looking down at you as you stay in your alt mode.

”Can you..transform please?” His optics narrow and his voice low. A sigh can be heard from you as you then transformers. Optimus let out a small breath. Your looks still as breath taking as when he first met you.

Your optics sttill shinning as the stars do in his as he stared at you.

The two of you missed each other. But you made you choice when he made the choice to pick earth over your planet.

But you’ll never stop being loyal to him despite everything.

”I..I miss you Y/N …And I’m sorry for what happened between us all those years ago.” He took a few steps towards you. His cervos gently grabbing yours as you stared up at him. He then closed his optics as he kisses the back of both your cervos.

“Optimus I…” He lets the cervos rests against his chests as he looked down at you to let you speak.

“I missed you too Optimus…But I can’t trust-“

He then interrupted you with his voice almost booming. Good thing you two are far from the others.

”I messed things up between us. I realized where I messed up and please. If you can give me another chance then I promise I’ll do better. I will.”

”Optimus we both just gone different paths.” You tried to create some distance betweeen you two. But he didn’t let you pull your cervos away from his chest. His cervos having a firm grip.

”But look. We meet again because our paths are intertwined. We are meant for each other-“

”Optimus.”

”We are meant to be together-“

”Optimus.”

”And you are meant to be my sparkmate.” He said in a bit of a darker tone. One of his cervos still keeping two of your cervos pinned against his chest as his other cervo moves to your waist.

Pulling you a bit closer as you both stared at each other.

”Will you truly deny me the chance to take back what I love? To make your leader suffer more after abandoning your place by my side as a worrior of the Autobot cause?”

”Optimus.”

”You’re place is with me! The view of the humans now is what changed my mind. Showing the true nature of these life forms and how I was wrong! Please you must understand Y/N. Just..one more chance I beg you…”

His optics are hopeful and you cant help shake this large feeling. The feeling of guilt, sympathy….and fear.

His forhelm pressing against yours as he keeps looking at you. You seem to be…struggling to almost breath for a moment.

Your frame only shaking a little as he noticed. Slowly blinking as he then spoke.

”Please….just one more chance sweetsaprk…”

You’d let out a shaky sigh and closes your optics. Slowly nodding. Too scared to even try to pull away. Maybe…it would be best.

Having a soft smile on his dermas. Leaning down as his dermas connect with yours. You had fear in your optics but…you did miss the feeling of his dermas against yours.

Your arms slowly moving to around his neck as his own move around your waist.

The kiss continueing to be more passionate. As the kiss soon got heated he whispered muiltiple times between kisses. His optics slightly opened as yours remained closed. “I Love You”

That night you both bonded. And he made sure you’ll never leave him…ever again…

———————————————————————————

You were under him this time. On your knees as your aft sticks up. The upper half of your frame against the dirt as it moved back and forth. Optimus hips slamming aggressively against your aft.

One arm wrapped around tightly around your waist and his other supporting him up as his front presses against your back.

While his thrusts are fast and sharp. He can’t help but to stare down at you. The side of your helm against the dirt as you at times looked back at him. Begging him to go slower.

He lifts his helm up every now and then too be sure no one was watching or aware of you two. It becoming hard for him to focus at times as you valve clenched around his spike. He’d then move his cervo once on the dirt to support him to now wrap around your spike.

Bringing you closer to your climax as he stroked it in a fast paste. Causing you to moan even more.

He has to find someway to distract you. As you both continue he slowly becomes more animalistic. It soon becomes almost too much for you. Between moans you’d speak.

“Optimus please..I need a break!”

You both already went a few rounds before. He ignored you. So he tried a different tactic to shut you up.

One of his cervos gripping your waist as the other grips your hip. His thrusts rough but slow. His intake letting out moans and sighs I his rough voice. When you tried to lift up your helm his cervo once on your hip moved to press your helm back down.

His helm leaning down at times as he closed his optics.

The pleasure being so much for him as it is for you. At times lifting it up but seems to be struggling to think as he continues to thrust deep into your valve.

But once he felt his climax growing closer and closer he moved his cervo from your helm to your upper back.

Pressing you harder into the ground as his thrusts grow rougher but at a slow and rough paste. But that didn’t last too long.

Thrusting faster as he places both forearms support him up against the ground. On both sides of your helm. Since he was much larger his frame completely engulfed you.

His helm past yours forward as he groans. Shutting his optics closed tightly as he thrusts harder and harder.

As his chest is pressed harshly against your upper back.

Both your bodies moving back and forth as he groans above you. You moan his name while his hips continue to brutally slam against your aft. Until Optimus finally released a loud groan.

Pressing the knot forming in his spike into your valve.

His spike completely gone as his hips are flushed against your aft. He stays over you.

Not moving as he feels his legs shake. His frame shuttering against yours as you feel your own climax. His knot giving you both pleasure and pain.

After what felt like almost an hour…He was able to finally pull out of your valve. He was able to lift himself up a bit. Your body was tired. When he pulled out fully your valve was hit with the cold air.

Then you were on your side as you couldn’t keep your lower half up anymore.

Once on your side you were then gently pushed to be on your back as your lower half remains on it’s side on the floor.

He’d move up a little, looking down at you as you stay between his cervos. Before leaning down to kiss once more before he says something that sends a shiver down your spine. “It is Done.”

———————————————————————————

You and the others continue with going after the man collecting your fellow Autobots body parts. You being there keeping your gun pointed at the bald man until Optimus gently pushed your blaster down.

Saying they where done here. Ignoring the human as you and hound groan annoyed.

Eventually after everything with Lockdown and the humans ended. Optimus would soon leave to go deal with the creators of your spieces. He made sure to kiss your forhelm before giving his goodbyes.

Aftr he left the others questioned you what was up it’s that. So..you told them.

Hound was excited. Not only were you back with Optimus but turns out you were with sparkling. He was practically your sire before the war. So it made sense he’d want to be the first to hold the sparkling.

Meanwhile Drift and Crosshairs were excited. Seeing their selves becoming the sparklings uncle. Then again the four of you were really close.

Bumblebee said he will train the small one like a cool cousin or something. You always chuckled when he spoke about teaching the sparkling to fight. Crosshairs wanting to teach the ankle biter to shoot. Drift wanting to teach them to be another worrior like Optimus.

Hound wanting to teach the sparkling to be a soilder like him. Only time can tell what’ll happen.

———————————————————————-

Three years have went by. Your sparkling was big from a humans point of view.

When you hold your sparkling you two look like a regular parent holding their infant child. You all lived at some junkyard.

Naming the small sparkling after your closest friend before the war. Red Alert. Your sparkling ended up being a girl. She looked like a mix of you and Optimus having your yellow piercing optics.

She was a strong one too. You’ll never forget when Hound and the others first held her.

Hound was gently. But also chill holding the little one with one arm as he would tell his war stories. Red Alert always staring up at him as she would nibble on her own cervo and at times reach at his beard.

Crosshairs didn’t really know how to deal with sparklings. But he wouldnt mind if she wanted to nibble on his goggles whenever she reached for them.

She would get most excited when he would show off his sniper. And with Bumblebee he was a bit more excited about seeing a sparkling. He was pretty young when the war started and never really got a chance to even old a sparkling.

And with Cade- well. He babied the crap out of Red Alert. Telling her and even you at times stories about when his daughter was a baby.

Times when she would be just the cutest baby int he world.

Sometimes he’ll get carried away he would stop himself and look at her. Who just does a frog blink as she stared down at him.

Eventually Cade and Bee left you you stayed with the others and the new girl who came. You sparkling being only 3 years old now and slightly bigger now.

She’s definitely going to be bigger then Optimus once she’s a full adult.

Eventually you and the others get a call to help out bee and Hotrod. Though you and your sparkling had to stay far since Red Alert is too fragile to be on a battle field.

After the battle is over and you all reunite. Optimus and the others choose to leave Earth to rebuild their home world. Bidding goodbye to their fellow humans. As you stood with the others and Optimus waved at Cade.

Red Alert did the same. Making Cade almost tear up as he waved goodbye to her.

As everyone got on the ship they gave you three privacy since he has been gone for a while. But you can feel a pit in your stomach as he approached you both.

When Optimus and you with Red Alert stand at the “lobby” of the ship while the others were busy.

Optimus was able to finally take a moment to embrace you both. One of his cervos resting on the side of your waist as his other gently rests on the back of Red Alert.

Who stared up at him with wide optics.

And keeps reaching for him with her little cervos. He gently kissed her forhelm before leaning to you. His dermas connecting with yours. “I’ve missed you.” He whispered as he looked down at you.

But with a bit of a shaky voice as you responded.

“I missed you too Optimus.” He then takes Red Alert from your cervos. You almost feel…worried.. Red Alert giggled and as reached for Optimus face.

He has a smile on his dermas as he watches the sparkling.

”What did you name her?”

”Our old friend. Red Alert. He would’ve love to have met her.” His smile only grows as Red Alerts cervos started gripping and patting at his chest for his attention.

“You may be here as we rebuild our world my little one but I promise you. You’ll learn the greatness of our planet my little one..More and your carrier will show you how to be one of the strongest and noblest of them all!”

You tried to keep your smile.

Even as he holds her with one arm and his other goes around your waist pulling you closer. His cervo on the side of your waist.

Keeping you close as little Red Alert giggled. You gently holding her smaller one as she waves her other one around. Optimus giving you a kiss on the top of your helm. He was so happy. And you were…..

Happy.

Oh boy there were so many drafts but I honestly like this one. I hope you guys enjoyed and yes I think I’ll do a red alert fic. But I’ll need a good scenario lol.

As always a repost is appreciated and I hope to see you guys in the next post!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

@teddybeartoji @staryukis @dollsuguru @hayakawalove

stsg convenience store au!!

ignore my inconsistent coloring plz <\3

[fanaticsnail]

Drinking Drabbles

Masterlist Here

Themes: Two of scenarios with a few one piece characters x reader, gn reader, suggestive in some, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, romance, friendship. Drink responsibly!

Characters: Rosinante/Corazon, Mihawk, Buggy, Sir Crocodile, Koby, Smoothie, Fukaboshi, Vivi

Notes: Trying to get my sparkle back. Expressing gratitude to Discordant's OP OC discord server for hanging out and suggesting characters for me to try for. Love the characters, and I adore writing for new ones to me.

Drinking with Rosinante / Corazon

Looks like: sharing a glass of wine over dinner, hearing the uproar of laughter at the head of the table - his brother cackling at a joke he told. Sharing subtle glances, pouring a new glass for one another while stealing a moment where your fingers brush together while reaching for the same bottle.

Also looks like: Sharing rum in the cold, willing your bodies to keep warm while caring for the sick child in the snow. The burn ignites in your throat, but the heat is makes the night pass in a more comfortable fluidity. The only blanket available to you is tucking the child in, but you both make do by sitting beneath the dark cloak. Shrouded in feathers, sharing those touches you longed for back at the dining table, the rum feels more like home now than that wine ever did.

Drinking with Mihawk

Looks like: a bottle of his private reserve label, uncorked by a methodological approach of a saber to the glass lip. Expertly decanted, rested for the appropriate amount of time, and shown how to enjoy the glass properly. He does not invite your glasses to touch, for fear it would disturb the wine with such a crude approach, but he does indicate for you to drink it with him in unison.

Also looks like: drinking straight from the bottle neck, poured by his hands and coaxed back into your lips by cradling your head and ensuring you don't spill a drop, before doing the same for himself. Anything to get through the voice of the clown at the table. He will have you closer to him for moral support, and will enjoy ensuring you are both equally topped up while glaring at Buggy for the duration of your stay with Cross-Guild.

Drinking with Buggy

Looks like: Something fruity, decorated with an outrageous amount of umbrellas and shaved ice dancing at the brim. It's too sweet, too bubbly, and too much all at once. Paired with a nasally cackle, lively music, linking his arms with yours and dancing a jig on the table, drink sloshing from the side, everything is perfect for the clown: the star of the show.

Also looks like: Aiding him to drink straight spirits as he sits on the bathroom floor, icing the bruises he's received at the hands of Crocodile and Mihawk while he openly sobs and apologizes for looking pathetic. A quiver to his lips, the swell in his bruised eye, he expresses his gratitude by silently whispering it as intimately as he can to you.

Drinking with Crocodile

Looks like: a circular short glass with a small cubic stone cooled by frost, drinking the most expensive and lush whiskey to ever be produced. Not dampening the flavor with water falling from ice, simply cooling it to enjoy over the palate. Everything is lush, filled with luxury, and likely paired with a cigar as he gazes at you with a predatory look in his beady expression.

Also looks like: Sneaking it in your clothes and fishing it out once below the cells in Impel Down, feeding him through prison bars and apologizing that it's not his favorite. He's looking up like it is his lifeline and an angel is offering him their tether to the great beyond. Those eyes that once looked like a predator on the prowl now humble themselves before you as he sits on his calves and drinks messily from the glass lip of the rum bottle.

Drinking with Koby

Looks like: Sitting at the table surrounded by Alvida Pirates, letting the pink-haired ‘chore boy’ fill your tankard from the barrel and giving him praise for it. Alvida chastises you for expressing gratitude to the smaller pirate, but you hush her with a crass joke and continue to dote on him while you drink. You offer him a sip from your glass that he throws back with practiced precision, causing you to laugh with him and invite him to sit with you for the remainder of the evening.

Also looks like: Bound in chains, on your knees and contained within the brig, a pink haired captain, once pirate from long ago, offers you a kindness of a drink while transferring you to Impel Down. He was not as quiet as he once was, but his kindness was still present as you knew it to be. You humored him by drinking all he offered you with your hands tied behind your back, as submissive as he was all those years ago. Your gratitude is on your lips, smiling as a drop is collected and wiped by the pad of Koby's thumb. He utters apologies, and you reassure him that you won't take it personally.

Drinking with Smoothie

Looks like: Sitting at the table, surrounded by her siblings, enjoying something a little on the sweeter side. Something mixed in with juices, a precious concoction that paired beautifully with the sweets offered at the table. Brushing glasses with one another, your eyes meet hers and she gifts you a rare, soft smile reserved for when he desires to showcase her sweetness.

Also looks like: Draining the life out of her enemies, blood gushing over her full lips and spilling down her chin, she bows her head to you and gives you a mischievous grin. Pulling up a cloth, you press the material to her lips and remove all blemishes of fluids from the human she drank from. You would rather watch than participate in this brew, but she enjoys watching you squirm as she presses her lips delicately to yours soon thereafter.

Drinking with Fukaboshi

Looks like: A room filled with tension, barely a look shared between you while negotiations between humans, mink, and fishfolk sit and discuss how to progress in a proper manner. Once decided, all raise their sake bowls and salute them with one another. Finally making eye contact with the mer Fishman, you both share a glance before pressing the sake to your lips and draining it of their contents to solidify your fresh alliance.

Also looks like: Tucked beneath the figurehead of the vessel you served aboard, sharing a moment with one another in the silence. All softness, all secretive, all in a world carved just for you, you both enjoy a swap of culture. He, a bottle from his homeland, you, a bottle from your own. Discussing the differences in textures and flavors, you both feel a pull in your chests as the sun slowly slips over the horizon.

Drinking with Vivi

Looks like: Sitting around a table, shrouded in darkness and surrounded by the vapors of sour cigar smoke, and raising your glass to your glorious leader a the head of the table. Bananawani in the corner, several of the members strike up conversation, and you and Miss Wednesday are no different. There was something in her tone and demeanor that seemed out of place, but you paid it no mind because you had secrets of your own. Drinking and cringing a little at the burn, you both drank and discussed the various interweavings of Baroque Works and where your missions would take you next.

Also looks like: An uprageous celebration for the return of Arabasta’s princess, drinks of all bubbles and honeys swirling in a variety of glassware. Watching as she flawlessly navigates the room full of her supporters, she gives you a look like the one not so dissimilar from your years serving together in Baroque Works. Catching you in the corner, she brushes her glass against yours with a hidden smile peaking at the corner of her lip: a silent promise that she will keep you by her side all the remaining of her days as ruler.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[lets-try-some-writing]

(For your Mr. Pax AU:)

Imagine the kids meeting Elita. It'd be so fragging wholesome XD

It'd more then likely be after the school day, too. Lmao.

It would and I have opted to answer the call for this ask.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So kids, how was school?" Elita grinned as the children settled on their platform, spreading out homework and other assignments for the cycle. She regarded their work with interest. It seemed simple enough in her optics, but then again, the human children were very small.

"Oh! You're Elita! Optimus's wife!" Miko shot up, a huge smile on her small squishy face. The urge to reach out and poke one of her cheeks was strong, but Elita refrained. It wouldn't do to go poking the children when it was far safer just to wait until later and do it in holoform.

"I'm his Conjunx, yes." Jack pointedly did not look in her direction. Elita could almost see the way his venting would have sputtered if he were Cybertronian. She may not have been well versed in all things human as of the present moment, but even she could see he looked a moment away from exploding.

"Woah, I didn't know Optimus was married." Rafael added his own commentary, closing his laptop to look up at Elita with wide eyes. She had to fight back an awed noise at how adorable he looked. He was tiny, his glasses only making him look more like a sparkling in her optics. She wanted to poke his cheeks as well, but that would have to wait.

"He's been my Conjunx for a very long time kiddo. Since before he became Prime in fact." Miko and Rafael made awed noises, and even Jack looked up at her in surprise, his embarrassment over the parent-teacher conference forgotten.

"Really? Optimus doesn't seem like the kind of guy to well... do that?" Jack was hesitant in his words, but Elita laughed in short order. She clutched her abdomen as she considered Jack's point of view, all but cackling. Her Conjunx could be quite stern when he wanted to be, especially when stressed. She'd already heard about how Optimus shut down any attempts at being introduced to humor. It was no surprise Jack was startled.

"He wasn't always such a stoic figure. Back when we were young, we got into all sorts of trouble." Resting a servo on her hip as he laughter died down, Elita watched as the children practically lit up at the reveal. Jack was quiet with his interest, but Rafael and Miko were not.

"Optimus in trouble? Oooh this is some blackmail material I need!" Miko did a little dance in place, the plushies on her belt shifting as she did an excited twirl. Elita again had to fight the urge to pick up and cuddle the squishy organic close. It probably wouldn't end well, but she hadn't been able to hold such a small creature since Bee was freshly forged.

"I don't think you can blackmail Prime with stuff that millions of years old." Jack, being so much like Optimus, tried to rain on everyone's parade with logic. Thankfully, his little black raincloud bounced right off Miko and Rafael who were still staring at Elita like she hung the moon.

"Married couples always have wild blackmail!" Miko flailed, throwing her arms up in the air as she grinned. Jack sighed and Rafael secretly adjusted his glasses to try and hide a smile. Elita could feel it right then and there as adoration settled in her spark.

Yes, she was keeping these squishies. She could convince Optimus later.

"I have quite a few stories for you. But only if you promise to not harass Optimus with them. He's got enough going on." Holding up a digit to her derma, Elita smiled as the children each agreed, some more enthusiastically than others.

"We won't bother him. Promise." Rafael's eyes only seemed to be made bigger by his glasses. Elita's spark leapt in its chamber, the cuteness of the scene overriding her usual serious attitude as mischievousness she had long left behind began to resurge.

"Settle down then children. Let me tell you all about Orion's first visit to the docks." Elita could see Optimus out of the corner of her optic looming in the nearby hall. He looked to be mostly uncaring as he waited there, listening in. But she could see the hint of a smile on his features. He wasn't opposed to her decision, giving her all the more reason to tell her tale.

It had been so very long since they'd had anyone who cared enough to hear their story.

[dumbslvtforethan]

♾ A HANDFUL PILLS, NO CHASERS ethan landry

— summary: you and ethan get horny- ops! i meant high sorry

warnings smut, degrading kink, use of drugs, dom!ethan, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything! 1,046 words

navigate ! taglist

𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ

ETHAN PASSES YOU THE JOINT, his eyes dark as he watches you inhale. You hold it in for a few seconds before slowly exhaling, your head spinning with a pleasant buzz. You feel his hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up towards the apex of your legs. "Mmm, this is some good shit," Ethan chuckles, leaning back against the couch. His hand is still on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing circles over the fabric of your shorts. "I never knew you were such a pothead," he teases, taking another drag. "Hey, don't judge me," you retort, swiping the joint from his fingers and taking another hit. "You love it when I'm relaxed and mellow like this."

You nudge him playfully and exhale a cloud of smoke. "I'm a fun pothead. Ethan's eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins at you. "Oh, I think you're a fun pothead when you're horny too," he murmurs, his hand sliding up to cup your sex over your shorts. "Remember that time we got high and fucked for hours in my room?" He gives your clothed sex a firm squeeze, making you gasp and squirm. "I think it's time for a repeat performance," he says, his voice low and husky with desire. "You're so fucking wet already. I can feel it through these thin little shorts." "I've been thinking about it ever since you texted me with that little baggy," you reply with a grin, biting your lip as his hand continues to tease and rub.

"Let's get back to those days of fuck-ton of stamina." "You're so goddamn cheeky when you're high," Ethan laughs, pulling you onto his lap and pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You can taste the weed on his tongue and it makes your head spin, making you moan softly as he starts grinding up against you. "Fuck, your tits are so perky and perfect," Ethan slurs, his hands groping at your breasts through your top. "Gonna suck 'em so hard, make your nipples all hard and shit." He licks his lips, his pupils dilated and unfocused. "I love how high you get, makes your thoughts so much dirtier," you giggle, running your hand down his chest to the bulge in his pants. "Shit, look at this big ass dick," you say, staring at it with wide eyes. "Let me suck it though, gotta taste that dick," you blurt out, already reaching for his zipper. Your high thoughts mix together in a hazy bliss as he pulls out his throbbing cock, already slick with precum.

"Look at that fucking thing," "Fuck, it's so big and perfect for me to ride," you say, leaning down to take him in your mouth. Ethan groans loudly, his fingers running through your hair as you deepthroat him. "You're so fucking good at that, damn," Ethan's hand grips your hair tightly, forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. "You're nothing but a fucking cock slut, aren't you?" he growls, spit and precum dripping down your chin. "Such a desperate whore for dick.""Yeah, that's right baby, take my whole cock in your mouth. You're nothing but a little fuck toy for me to use," Ethan grunts as he face fucks you with an intensity fueled by the drugs.

"Suck that fucking dick, slut.” You eagerly suck on Ethan's cock, feeling it twitch and throb as you deepthroat him. The drugs have made his ego soar and he starts to fuck your face roughly, his hands tightly gripping onto your hair. "Ethan blurts out a string of degrading comments as he continues to brutally fuck your face, each word filled with a mix of lust and contempt. "You're a fucking cum dumpster, a worthless little cock whore. I bet you'd even suck my dick raw if I told you to.” Ethan's body tenses up as he reaches his climax, his rough thrusts becoming even more erratic before he finally explodes in your mouth. "That's right, swallow every fucking drop of my cum," he commands as you eagerly swallow everything he has to offer. As the high from the drugs continues to consume him, Ethan's dominant and lustful personality takes over completely. He throws you down onto the bed, his eyes filled with hunger as he starts to strip off his clothes and yours. "You're mine now, slut.” "Fuck me, Ethan. I want your cock inside every hole I've got. I'm just a dirty fucking slut who wants to be used by you. Use me.”

@dumbslvtforethan on tumblr

a/n: this is the most degrading fucking shit ive ever written

taglist ♡ @snkling @esnypetal @pincheputaaa

@notoakay @generousobjectwinner @chqrryw4ves @softcore8

[belokhvostikova]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, mentions of alcohol consumption, hard drug use, insecurities, minor jealousy, fighting, breakup, brief mention of infidelity (no cheating, though), hospital setting, head injury, concussion, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, and mentions of seizures.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Y'all, I'm 19! So, as a gift to you (whatever logic that is) here's a fic that takes place around Christmas, so I guess, also a belated Christmas gift. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! Also, the extent of my knowledge on injuries is purely based on the fact that I took both Health Science I and II in high school, and, well, that's it. So, if anything is inaccurate, NO IT'S NOT (because I said so).

“Will you-” so vividly, you heard his boisterous laughter dense the air sweetly, his face glowing with the ever peaking sunlight that glimmered the sparkling snow outside each time you peered up to his extended height. “It’s like you’re trying to make me fall!” His dramatic accusations were merely met with your fits of giggles, something he so gladly wished to always be met with, as the graze of your cold fingers buzzed his skin with the excitement of what used to be your touch. “Seriously, baby, I can’t finish this if you’re attacking me.” 

But you made no effort to stop, continuing your precise placement of delicate ornaments upon the belt loops of his jeans, the links of his chain, the pockets of his backside, perhaps even one snuggly secured in the threaded rips of his pants. With your boyfriend at your mercy—stuck a couple feet higher atop the fifth step of the ladder to fulfill your dreams of draping green garland to surround your high rise windows—you couldn’t help the ebullient urge to decorate him as you pleased, bringing some loving festivities to the black denim ensemble he regularly sported. 

Effervescent balls of sparkling reds and yellows accompanied the hanging bandana of his back pocket. “You’re like my very own personal Christmas tree!” You beamed upwards, watching a smile that was personal to himself, as he lavished in the innocence this holiday expelled from you. “C’mon,” a fatuous whine that had him chuckling with strings of fake green leaving his hand to secure around the window frame, “have a little spirit!”

And perhaps, that’s all you were trying to have now: spirit.

Because in the blink of an eye, the purity of crystalline, white snow had turned into sludges of watery dirt to meet the once twinkling hues to stringing lights that now simply became the bane of your existence. Because to you, everything embellished itself as a mockery to the happily ever after you now no longer had. 

But it never hurt to try, and yet, trying became the very literal thing that hurt you. 

“…What occurred in the midst of their fourth track, Corroded Coffin’s notable ‘Goliath’s Wrath,’ left fans in a frenzy, when frontma…” Your eyes blurred with exhaustion, attempting to fight back the heaviness of your eyelids that left your vision impaired by spotty shades of blacks and whites. Various pitches of ringing clashing with static voices began provoking that throbbing ache in your head that pounded your brain to mush. “…Information falls scarcely upon accuracy, though there were mentions of a family emergency as to the reaso…” One harsh breath for your dense chest left your nose to be invaded by the artificial, bitterness of antiseptic. All more of a reason for your eyes to screw shut in a brutal endeavor to appease the gnawing of your head. “…Demanding refunds for a set that had to go on without the leading m-”

“You’re up!” Your eyes shot open. His aging skin told stories of his life, crinkling into an abundance of creases that welcomed your startled awakening. “I know things may seem a little scary and confusing here, kid.” Heaving became an understatement when your eyes accepted the burning tiles of white around the room, and suddenly, whatever news outlet that was recounting the upheaval of 90s Hollywood from the tiny television that served its purpose of passing time was becoming drowned out by the abrasive beeping of monitors that clung to your body with tubes. “But just bare with me, alright, everything’s going to be okay.”

Okay? Your body felt cold under the roughness of hospital linen. “I-I…” A reckless try at sitting up left your mouth soaring with an agonizing groan from the pain, your sore body all too weak for the heavy lifting at your head, that suddenly felt the density of a dozen bricks that smashed together. 

“Take it easy, alright.” The older gentleman smiled, urging you to lay back against the flat pillow with his simple gestures. “I know things are a little hazy here, but my name is Dr. Rosenthal, would you be able to tell me yours?” Your brows scowled at the disparaging child-talk the man thirty years your senior was showcasing you. 

With a roll to your eyes—something instantly regretted because of the pain in your head—you dryly croaked. “Y-Y/N.” It was all too bright. God, what would it give to flip off the overhead lights? You never really were a fan of overhead lights, but his excuse of, “we have money now, these lights can stay on,” had a knack for making you giggle. It’d been five months since those overhead lights were ever turned on again. You wondered how often Ed-

“That’s great!” Dr. Rosenthal smiled, and you accepted the scraping scribble of his pen against his papered clipboard to satiate the buzz of your brain. “Tell me, Y/N can you remember anything about how you may have gotten here? Any recollections you may-”

“Where is- is she here?!” You fought the throb of your head to snap into the direction of the door, where Dr. Rosenthal mimicked your concern. In truth, the smell hadn’t been all too great; beads of perspiration coated his body in part with the concoction of spiced cologne and the bitter bourbon he regularly downed before coming face-to-face with thousands in a packed arena. “Y/N- she’s- what, what happe- oh, shit!” Cindy Jaurick had been a renowned makeup artist in Hollywood, but with the dryness of his skin, even she couldn’t conceal the bruising of his sleep-deprived eyes; splotches of alabaster cream became patchy upon his bags that smeared with the waxiness of black liner. 

Eddie Munson, all leather and chains that clashed with his truest self of denims and tees. A facade so greatly curated by the hands of top executives that in a span of three years, millions were acquired to his name. Such a stupid name, you now thought. 

A heavy step forward left his booted foot clanking against the white tiles, a movement too abrasive for your liking, as his incoming hand has you pushing back from his reaching touch. “Excuse me, sir, you need to step back and calm down.” Dr. Rosenthal proclaimed, a man of loyalty to his position, clearly perturbed by any bothersome that came to his patients. 

“I just- what the hell happened, are you okay?!” His jewelry—the real kind, far from the fake silver he once adorned that periodically fused his fingers green, but loved them more than anything—jingled to the admission of his distress, hands harshly raking through the chunks of sweaty hair over the sight of your damaged self. 

An audible clap came with the hit of Dr. Rosenthal’s clipboard to Eddie’s exposed chest, where the buttons of his designer brand had been deliberate to showcase the permanent markings of his tattooed skin. “Sir, unless you are a relative or partner of-”

“Yes! Yes, I’m her boyfriend-”

Your memory hadn’t served you right for the occasions that brought you to the hospital, but you knew enough that Eddie Munson no longer brandished the title of such, given the circumstances that occurred five months ago. “N-No, he’s, um, not… anymore.”

“Then, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

“No, I- do you even know who I am?” Eddie watched your face scrunch with disgust at his language to the doctor, but whatever damage control he attempted fell short on your solidified opinion of a distasteful eye roll against him. “Shit, no- like, I mean you called me. I-I’m her emergency contact! I swear it, I’m Eddie!” 

And you slumped back against your bed. Clear as day, you remembered the cursive handwriting that marked the page with the name and number of your ex-boyfriend. When a year ago, months apart finally came to a halt as Eddie’s touring schedule cleared for the coming holidays. It would suffice to say the bedroom of your quaint Indianapolis townhouse saw little abandonment, with silk sheets becoming imprinted with the weight of your bodies that refused to leave the warmth of each other’s depraved company. In doing so, your judgment became clouded from the usual routine of bathroom care that came after a heated rendezvous. But could you be blamed? Believe it or not, there actually was a time when Eddie’s embrace brought you comfort and peace. What eventually transpired into a run-of-mill UTI had actually worsened quicker than expected. Over-the-counter medication did little to relieve you from the infection, and when your back suddenly began to ache, you knew a trip to St. George's Hospital was in need. With a close call, your kidneys were able to stay intact to your body, and the use of dialysis was spared from your future. And yet, who knew the most haunting occasion of that experience would come with the boyish smile of Eddie Munson, as he watched with lovesick eyes as you entrusted him as the man you’d want in the case of an emergency.

My god, how times have changed… 

“Um, yeah, yeah, he is.” You swallowed the dryness of your throat, hoping the commotion of everything would finally settle to alleviate the stress of your head. 

“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s up to you if you’d like him here.” Dr. Rosenthal sighed, a harsh click to his pen that surely cemented his dislike for the gaudy man upon him. “Your neighbor has already left, but I can assure you that the nurses will make frequent routines to keep you in care.”

Neighbor? “I- um, Trevor?” Your head spun with the lack thereof details that painfully tried to piece themselves together. 

Eddie's hair flew with the snap of his head to your doctor, as his scowl silently demanded the explanation you both were desperate to hear. Dr. Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Ms. Y/L/N, you took quite the fall off a ladder in your home. After a while, your neighbor had found you, and did the deed of bringing you over. He mentioned you had borrowed his ladder to put up-”

“Christmas decorations.” What a wonderful feeling it was to have the epiphany that was as simple as regained memory. Where you no longer had a boyfriend to gladly bear the brunt work of Christmas decorations for your sole enjoyment, you now had to dish out yourself. Unloading dusty boxes had usually accompanied a teasing compliment to the muscles that bulged from his arms, though now, your back felt the strain of heavy lifting, because you refused to properly use your legs. “Um, y-yeah, I remember- well, I don’t remember falling, but, uh, I used Trevor’s ladder for the, um, y’know, what do you call them? The green, leaf stringy-”

“Garlands?” Dr. Rosenthal and Eddie spoke simultaneously.

And you perked up as best as your body would allow. “Yeah, garlands!” Your voice excitedly croaked. “You, uh, y-you remember?” For once, in five months, you actually acknowledged him. Eddie. “I-I like those garlands around our- my windows.”

He remembered. Your giggles ringing in his ears like magical sleigh bells. Your touch warming his skin against the burning cold. Your eyes twinkling over the simplicity of green garlands… something he couldn’t even provide you with now.

“That’s good.” Dr. Rosenthal smiled. “You’re recalling events and… history,” he pursed his lips against Eddie’s cold demeanor, “wonderfully. It’s a good sign of minimal memory loss, which falls quite commonly against those in situations as yours. When you fell, Ms. Y/L/N, your neighbor had informed us of a seizure-”

“Seizure?!” Eddie spat.

“Yes, seizure; fifteen seconds.” He clarified. “And with that, an immediate grade II concussion. We ran a necessary EEG and CT scan prior to your waking, as such classification can offer some findings. Fortunately, all we saw was the inevitable stretching of your neurons which caused a burst of electrical impulses in your brain explaining the seizure. Checking for any fracturing of the skull, or swelling, and bleeding, and you were quite lucky. Completely cleared.” His smile broke through his wrinkled face. “Though, you were brought in with quite the gash on the left side of your head, right between the parietal and occipital bone. Nothing too extreme on the severity scale, but in order to stop the bleeding we did have to repair the tissue damage with stitching.” A vapid explanation of the overly tight gauze that somehow felt like a ton of bricks around your cranium. “But other than that, your vitals are excellent.” Check, check, check off his clipboard. “It’s very likely you’ll continue experiencing a headache, perhaps some nausea, or dizziness. I do recommend an overnight stay to ensure secondary swelling doesn’t occur, and to guarantee your memory continues to function properly. But a morning discharge should be fine.”

A deep breath allowed your head to nod along. “Yeah, um, thank you… really.” You earnestly smiled.

But where you could muster a staid beam of politeness, Eddie Munson gleamed a smile so faux, even Dr. Rosenthal piqued him with a scowl—though miniscule for his professional aptitude. The heavy click of the door closing behind Dr. Rosenthal granted the heaviest breath to escape from Eddie before his attention scrutinized you. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” He ambushed. Seriously, he knew you for seven years. Seven years of his fucking life, and not once had you ever dared to lift a finger for manual labor. Okay, call him old fashioned, but that’s exactly what he liked about you; you know, the whole damsel in distress that needed him whenever something fell loose or broken. That’s it, just the need for him. The need to want him around. “I-I mean, seriously, you- why couldn’t you just call me- or, or, like, Steve, or someone, so you wouldn’t get hurt?” Okay, so maybe calling him wouldn’t have been your first option. If the fact of being no contact for five months wasn’t enough, surely living across the country would have ruled him out. You stopped keeping up with his whereabouts weeks ago. But that wouldn’t stop him. It was you, for Christ sake! You wanted your garlands, Eddie would have given you your garlands. No matter the lack of communication. No matter the distance.

Eddie Munson would have given you everything. 

You dryly blinked. Twice. If only he felt like that when you both were still together. “Get out.” 

“Okay, no- wait, I’m not trying to blame you-”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Get out!” Your tired voice tried to muster. 

“No, sweetheart, c’mon, I-I know- I just worded it wrong, okay? Please, I just- I don’t know why you would try to do something that would get you hurt like that. You could have, I don’t know, asked for help, like called me up, I promise I would have answered to help you-”

Your eyes rolled against his sentiment. “What, so I’m just too dimwitted to use a couple of tools?!”

“Well, you did fall.” By your stare, Eddie Munson had two seconds to live. “N-No, I didn’t say that- I, look, I just wish you would have called or someth-”

“And I wish you would just get out!” But your rash endeavor to sit up and shove him away legitimized the pitiless reality of your gnawing head hazing your vision and dismantling your balance, forcing Eddie to rush to your assistance. 

“I- okay, I’ll shut up, just lay back, relax, please, sweetheart. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.” 

“I’m fine.” You gritted. 

“There’s a chunk of your head missing.” Eddie retaliated with a deadpan so infuriating mocking.

A huff of disbelief rippled from your dry lips. “Dr. Rosenthal just said it was no big deal.”

“Like I care what that old fuck has to say.” Your scolding eyes ripped him a new one. “Okay, geez, didn’t know you two were such close friends.”

With no energy to fight back, you permitted his touch to push you back against stiff pillows, where his ink-engraved hands worked swiftly to cover your frail body from the harsh chills of the hospital air conditioning. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He whispered, adhering to his words, as he silently watched you close your eyes away from him, now that his presence has garnered a throbbing headache. 

By the seventh beep, you no longer found interest in counting the indications of your working monitors. But where your mind lost the simple activity, you also gained attention to the whirring voices of the television. Sat by your side on the hardened chair, Eddie’s tapping toes forced your eyes to tear back-in-forth from his stance to the static colors of live footage coverage. 

“Man, all I hope is for a refund!” Drunk out of his mind, as the lights of cameras began emphasizing the drugged redness of the young man’s eyes. “Like, seriously, we’re all here for The Freak, and for him to just run off like that, dude, we paid for a Corroded Coffin show, and we’re gonna get it, or else we want our money back!”

A pan to the well-dressed reporter stocked drastically to the metalheads on scene. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. As we wait for more updates on the events that occurred that left Eddie Munson running off stage to what would have been his biggest performance in his home state, fans are pressuring for a refu-”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?” Eddie's head pulled itself from his intense stare that followed the grout of the tiled floors. 

“Huh?” His gaze followed yours which briefly led to the boxed television that delivered MTV’s insistent need to showcase a replay of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, lead guitarist and singer of Corroded Coffin, running off stage in the midst of their newest single, ‘Goliath’s Wrath.’ “Oh, um,” his hand waved you off, “my team will rip me a new one later, it’s fine.” 

You sighed. “And just for the record, I am self aware, so I did have someone there to help me.” You muttered, leaving his brows to furrow. “Trevor?” 

“Oh.” Eddie’s lips maneuvered awkwardly. “Trevor, right.” Knee bouncing, fingers tapping, Eddie knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the question burned his mind for too long not to suddenly blurt out. “So what, are you seeing him or something?” And perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut, given the death glare you killed him with that had him reeling back his words. “I- sorry.” 

“Trevor has a girlfriend. And a ladder.” You scoffed. “And you of all people cannot be talking.”

Three weeks post the headlines that announced the separation between rockstar, Eddie Munson, and his longtime girlfriend, new reports were eager to air Hollywood’s newest romance between the amoral and Playboy’s finest, Lindsey Sawyer. To say you cried for weeks was quite the understatement, when your body physically impaired you from leaving the shielding comfort of your bed. While you rotted, Eddie danced on the grave of your love with his new girlfriend, whose six inch stilettos pierced your bludgeoned heart. Granted, it lasted nothing but a couple days, though it didn’t stop from the new pattern of recurrence in which Eddie found Hollywood’s new recycled “it” girl to accompany the image of a rager rockstar. Gisele Camarella, Pam Densely, Yvonne Huntsford; a new name, face, and body to compare yourself to. 

“I-” his shame flooded his cheeks crimsen, “those were never real- not, like- not like you, not you and me real. Just what management thought looked best.” Though, his quiet admission did nothing to soothe over painful memories. “I’m sorry.” Three scrapes of wooden legs scratching against white tiles was all it took to have Eddie Munson sitting by your side. “How do you feel?” His eyes fervently raked your face. “Honestly.”

“My head hurts.”

“About seeing me?” He clarified. 

Silence crept up in a suffocating manner, as Eddie watched your stoic lines revise his being. “I don’t like seeing your face anymore, Eddie.” How were you able to speak those words so calmly? Eddie’s throat choked him with unbearable bitterness that burned his insides. “You look stupid. You used to never look stupid.” 

Eddie Munson had a haunting past of failures; D’s and F’s marked such a bloody red over white papers, tainting any scribble of hard work he, at least, attempted at times. And what followed failed tests and quizzes only came with the taunting laughter of jocks and cheerleaders, jeering their distaste for his “kind” that branded his leather and denim as the epitome of all things they deemed nauseating. For a while, Eddie Munson believed himself to be nothing but stupid. The grades and reputation being all the evidence needed to solidify his self worth to him. Every compliment to your intelligence he gave you knew came with an underlying insecurity within him. Because you were smart, so smart. What was a smart girl like you doing with a stupid guy like him? 

So, yeah, your words hurt. As they intended to. 

Eddie’s eyes dropped with shame, his Adam’s apple following suit with a thick bobbing gulp of guilt. His eyes casted upon his tight leather jeans that felt insufferable under a building layer of sweat; too much eyeliner, at times clouding his vision from the very fans he loved seeing; sheer shirts waving in a draft of uncomfortableness, forcing him to long for prized t-shirts that gave him the movement to be him on stage; and a god awful personality detailed so preciously by management to make his name a headliner’s favorite. 

Yeah, Eddie Munson looked so fucking stupid. 

“I-I don’t like ‘em.” He stammered. 

“You used to.” 

-

July once brought Los Angeles, California a blistering heat. You hate heat.

Five months ago. 

“No, no, no, he’s full of shit, I was the one who came up with ‘Goliath’s Wrath!’” The cigar browning of Gareth Emerson’s scotch dribbled his lips wet with his drunken blubber, as men surrounding—all big money and titles alike—huffed out laughter worth millions to the men that provided them such wealth. 

Eddie’s nose burned with the ecstasy of white powder, dusting his beautiful features with the hedonism of all glory and power… for once, right in his hands. “Oh, fuck off, you were passed out drunk laying in your own piss when we wrote that god awful fucking song!” He laughed, joining in on the obnoxious cacophony of guffaws that held no sense of reality. 

A shoulder knocked into his. Greased slicked hair, gold rings, and a suit worth your car payment; Iverson Green. And Eddie had no fucking clue what he did. “You really don’t like the upcoming song?” He whispered.

And Eddie would never know. Information as such mattered little, as long as the man helped pay his check. “These braindeads approve of all this rock shit for the image.” Eddie bit back. “If I had it my way, I’d show ‘em real metal.” He smiled. 

A blood red stiletto acrylic stabbed at his shoulder before a cloud of Chanel °5 invaded his itching nose. “Got you booked.” She spoke, her breath tickling his ear over the sheer closeness needed over the vibrating base of stereos. 

Eddie turned his head to see her, a smiling Judy Carawan that had him beaming right back. “For what this time? I’m not doing some late night news bullshit again.” After the way Larry Parsons of Hollywood’s Friday Nights called out his delinquent behavior, executives were buzzing for another clash between Eddie “The Freak” Munson and talk show hosts to get the papers running. 

“Hilfiger.” Judy leaned in, a smirk of confidence for her work truly accomplished. “A fitting, then you wear one of his suits to the VMA’s, and that’s cash in your pockets. And mine.” 

Eddie’s face glowered with disgust, as he attempted to move away, her smell becoming too strong for his liking. “Save me a line.” He instructed to the man breaking rows of snow on the mahogany table. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing some posh-y model shit in front of the fucking cameras.”

“It’ll be one time, and a check worth a lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, a habitual stance against the troubles that came with personally assisting Eddie Munson. “Also, see.” Her slender finger pointed to the lengthy body of Cierra Kalahi, perched against the marbling chimney of your Hollywood Hills home. “Miss America’s Next Top Model will be wearing Hilfiger, too. You and some Shalom Harlow wannabe wearing the same designer is just enough to spark some attraction to your name.”

Eddie knew the venomous implications of her suggestion. “I’m not playin’ into your bullshit dating rumors.” A vicious cycle you two had to go through; you hurting more than the other, though. 

“Okay, fine, then we get your pretty, little girlfriend to wear a matching dress… that is if she’ll stop being a bummer.” 

“Don’t fucking do that, alright?” Eddie huffed, dragging his sweaty hands down the heat of his cheeks. His eyes felt like they were going to crack out of his skull from the dryness of being opened for the past forty-three hours. But the umpteenth swig of Old Fashioned was fueling him alongside the unstoppable fuel of crystalline cocaine. “She just- I- look, I’m not putting her out there where she doesn’t want to go. S-She’s too good- she’s too good for the cameras.” 

“She’s not good for your career.” Eddie felt her words echo into a repeated ringtone that irritated his ears. His vision grew blurred with his impulsive movements against her face. 

His hot, alcoholic breath fanned her bangs with each huff of his chest. “Remember who pays your fucking bills!” Nothing but the voices of Mötley Crüe tormented the background, as everyone but the music quieted to bask in the events of another Eddie Munson meltdown. “You say one more fucking word about her, and I’ll leave you to the fucking street.”

Judy Carawan cinched her eyes against his lost ones. Whatever bad boy facade he drugged himself into every night never scared her. Hell, she fed into it. “Eddie, I’m going to be quite frank with you, since no one else will be. You and your goody girlfriend will never last. If she truly cared for you like she says she does, she would do anything to keep your name in the spotlight. And if you truly cared for her like you say you do, you wouldn’t be snorting snow on your fucking anniversary.” Eddie's hardened muscles fell from realization. And Judy smiled such a sick smile. “And FYI, I was someone before you.” Eight years of work with Hollywood’s hottest clientele. “Can you say the same?”

Your lip wobbled under the harsh bite of your teeth to suppress the stinging tears from an embarrassing downpour. Despite his promises of a private evening, you braced your arms over your chest, where it became exposed from the strapless dress you uncomfortably endured, after too many magazine headlines criticized your lack of “looks” for the hottest rockstar in town. You’d never admit it, always brushing him off whenever he became concerned for your well being because of the tabloids, but he always noticed the subtle changes you made to look like the women in the city that felt like another plant from olde Indiana. 

And now, unwarranted flashes of cameras settled outside the Michelin Star restaurant that burrowed burdening humiliation into your skin, as a cautious peer around the setting allowed you to notice the pitying and gossip of the goers around you. 

Every minute that passed, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. But an hour and fifteen minutes just prevailed you to be a doormat. But could you be blamed? Seven years ago today, you ran into the man, himself, who turned the dreaded day of Hawkin’s High open house into a new adventure. Where you had the excuse of an actively involved mother, who became adamant on touring the unknown environment of the orange and green halls after your father’s relocation to the rural town, Eddie had an intransigent uncle who refused to watch his nephew lose another year of his life to failing high school, and imposed the young man to abide by the staff’s fake smiles, as they greeted parents and students for the coming school year. 

It’s funny how one sullen face can find another in a crowd of PTA parents and their goody-two-shoe children alike. Meeting eyes and a devilish smirk on his face was all it took for two strangers to find trust in one another, and sneak away in the depths of bushy, green woods. In retrospect, asking Eddie Munson to be your boyfriend after only three hours of knowing him was quite rash—he, himself, was quite taken aback, as well—but the worst that could happen was it didn’t work out. I mean, what high school relationship ever does? But his informative trek across lush grass, a shared cigarette, and talks that had your stomach cramping from fits of giggles was enough to solidify your decision at heart. And who was Eddie Munson to ever say no to a pretty face and soul like yours. 

And it worked out… surprisingly. 

It was quite the experience learning the ins and outs of someone you already called your boyfriend, but the pureness of it all bloomed into the most innocent love of two people navigating the world and finding themselves together. 

But suddenly, the world had a place in your relationship. The people had a say. In what you wore, what you looked like, who you had to be. And he allowed it. Allowed everyone to measle their way in. After the first promise to you that nothing would change, every single one to follow became a lie. 

Because he changed. 

You mustered the will to sniffle away any tears. He no longer became worth it to you. And it broke your heart. Your heels clicked their way out of the restaurant, where your being was blurred under the paralyzing flashes of people who invaded your life, capturing and exploiting your lowest moment for a check, and branding you the girl that held the greatest rockstar back.

Eddie stumbled back on wobbly feet, his mind too disorientated to care about the bodies he shoved that consequently left glasses of cocktails to shatter against the polished flooring of his home. Though, nothing mattered as long as he got to the door. But your crying self had beat him to it from the other side, swinging the grand doors that were always too heavy for your liking, and entering your home that was invaded by strangers and their substances, and Eddie… your Eddie standing in the middle of it all. 

His red, beclouded eyes had disallowed him the privilege of blinking your beauty straight, but through the haze of blear lines, he saw your face so clearly fall from disappointment.

From pure defeat. 

“W-Wait!” Eddie fought the incoordination of his legs to follow you outside, leaving his guest to watch in awe. “Baby, I- fuck! I-I’m sorry- ugh, I just- I forgot!”

Los Angeles’ humidity suffocated his airways that were already constricting from his sobbing chokes. His insides burned from the concoction of drugs and sweltering heat that only fueled at the sight of your broken face. “You forgot?!” You cried, swinging your body around to face the man you no longer recognized. “For the past seven years you’ve never forgotten, but now you do! What, is it no longer important for you?!”

Spit blubbered with his words, as his lips moved a mile a minute to keep your love preserved. “N-No, I mean- yes, of course, it’s i-important-” 

“Then why weren’t you there?!” Mascara stained the softness of your cheeks, now too darkened for Eddie to ever kiss the pain away. “Why aren’t you ever there?! For me!”

“I-It wasn’t my fault.” He heaved. “J-Jude, she-she said this s-stupid thing was scheduled, and-and she said it’d be quick-”

“Of course, it’s never your fault!” You bit back with the deflation of your arms. “It’s always the alcohol, or the drugs, or Judy, but it can never be your fault, can it, Eddie?!” His fist balled into his eyes, as snot caved down his nose. 

“N-No, it is my fault! I’m sorry, Y/N- I’ll fix it! I’ll do anything, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Don’t you get it?!” You marched up to his wrecked body. “Your promises mean nothing to me anymore!”

“Don’t, please!” Eddie sobbed. Shameful embarrassment ate him alive in the middle of your Hollywood Hills driveway. “I-I’ll stop all this, th-the drugs,” his arm smeared away the remnants of snot and cocaine against his nose, “the drinking, partying, everything, I mean it!” Because something deep within Eddie Munson knew this was the last straw.

You were done.

“Stop lying to me!” Your eyes stung with tears. “Why are you so comfortable lying to me, and h-hurting me?!” His head adamantly refused your words with a harsh shake to his head, but the history of abandonment that brought you to your wits end weighed more than his inebriated actions. “You touch me and it feels like a lie. You k-kiss me and it feels like a lie. E-Everything you do has become bullshit, Eddie! I don’t trust you. I-I just worry. Worried that anytime you’re not next to me you’ve drugged yourself dead, or-or knocked out somewhere, or… with women-”

“Don’t fucking say that! I’d never do something like that to you!”

“The Eddie I knew would never leave me to snort coke with strangers, but here we are!” You bawled in retaliation, forcing his mouth quiet in disbelief. “You’re not Eddie anymore! So, don’t stand here and tell me you wouldn’t do these things, when everything you do leads me to believe you are capable of doing something like that… something to hurt me! Because you do, Eddie! You hurt me.”

“I’m so fucking sorry! Please, Y/N, baby, I fucking love you, everything’s just been too much, a-and I forget things, I’ll be better!” You scoffed at his utter patheticism that grossed you out, turning your heel, but his large hand caught a tightening grip to your wrist. “No, I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ll change! I-I’m still Eddie!”

“Get off.” You quietly pleaded, exhausted from the sobs that wrecked your body. 

“Y-You can’t leave me, Y/N, no, I-I need you.” He choked. “I love you. So much. With everything in me. Please. We don’t do this to each other!”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?!”

“Darling, Ms. Y/L/N?” Yours and Eddie’s head parted to the soft voice of Debby Weiser. Nearly a year ago, your elderly neighbor—who came into stardom in the 50s for her acts that revolutionized the spreading use of colored television—welcomed you into the gated neighborhood with a gluten-free muffin basket that had tasted like pure shit. But the kindness of her effort garnered a budding friendship with the mature woman who offered her wisdom on enduring Hollywood’s notoriety. “You alright there, sweetie?” Her southern accent never had assimilated to the Valley. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You turned to his eyes, staring down the saddened roundness that no longer held the precious life they once used to. “I was just leaving.”

That night, you left to your shared Indianapolis townhouse that became your starter home when Eddie’s career was first taking off. You were so happy then. 

And he hadn’t seen you since. 

Until now.

-

Eddie Munson had fallen quiet. 

Everything had, in fact.

The constant beeping of your medical instruments drove him to madness, but he figured the insanity was substantial punishment for the hurt he caused you. He’d been suffering for five months already, what’s a couple more minutes? If anything, he’d be suffering for the rest of his life should it continue without you. 

But it didn’t have to. 

Eddie knew he had no right to gain your love once more, and the vulnerability of your state worsened the situation tenfold, but there was a reason Eddie received that call. A reason why his heart sank amidst a phone call that identified your beautiful name in an emergency, that left him dropping everything in front of thousands that cheered his name. Whatever cynicism that tainted his heart had long left upon your sweet arrival; a ‘thank you’ filled with such gratitude towards his uncle, when Eddie busted into the trailer with a smile too large to be because of Hawkins High’s yearly open house. Wayne Munson had never asked, mostly due to the fact that his nephew locked himself in his bedroom, where the nineteen-year-old worked endlessly for his new upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign that followed the grounds of fate and destiny. 

In the mere three hours of your presence, you gave Eddie Munson hope.

He’d be damned not to devote his eternal life to you. 

“Y/N, I…” his eyes laid low, examining the threads of linen that covered you, as his fingers twiddled with his rings to appease the constant bounce of his anxious knee. “I need you to know how terribly sorry I am for everything I did. All the times I hurt you.” He sighed, as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I- uh, I just really need you to understand that everything that happened to us was not your fault. At all. You-” his breath shook with a tremble, “You really were so fucking perfect during everything. So patience, so communicative, and I-I never listened to you the way you deserved, I just- I don’t know, I thought maybe-maybe if I gave it my all to this career, I could finally give you everything you deserve.”

His eyes attempted to blink away searing tears, but his emotions were getting the better of him. “A-And I know how fucking selfish that is, I had- fuck, I had no right to assume what you wanted from me, and-and put you in a position where you had to go through all my bullshit, all because I thought that in the end it would make you happy… without even speaking to you about it.” Eddie's voice cracked with a harsh sniffle to gather his strength. 

“I-I’m getting clean, um, it’s been really fucking hard, but I-I got the boys s-setting me straight everyday. Especially after I practically tortured them with my cries after you left.” His pity laughter softly broke through. “B-But yeah, sweetheart, I-I’m doing pretty good for myself- well, tryin’ to, at least. Still kinda always, constantly, forever feel like shit,” Eddie chuckled, “but I’m managing. T-The drugs n’ everything flushed n’ all, n-now just trying to hold off the booze, y’know? But fuckin’ hell does a beer get me through it.”

A smile began etching upon his face, where the history of all the laughter you provided him with creased his face with the lines of joy that only truly showcased in your presence. “Talked to our manager, he sure as hell was pissed when I insisted on getting rid of Jude. And she sure as hell went out with a bang, and smeared by name to the tabloids, but, uh, you probably already read about that- or not, I don’t, like, expect you to keep up with me or anything, honestly I kinda hope you didn’t, because, well, those first couple of weeks after everything real-really, uh… brought the worst out.” A deep breath escaped his mouth, as his fingers dug into the temples of his head to alleviate the dull pain. 

“I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really… trying.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “F-For my fans, the boys, myself, a-and you, Y/N. And I c-can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for taking, y’know, taking this long t-to get better, and for not trying better before, for having to h-hurt you just to learn, I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. A-And I’m not askin’ for a second chance- well, I know I don’t deserve one, not now or-or ever if you feel like it, I just need you to know I’m Eddie, somewhere inside- I’m working really hard on just being me- oh, but, of course, I do want to be with you. T-That wasn’t me saying I didn’t. I do, I-I always wanna be with you, I just- I, okay, I’ll shut up now.”

The deliberation was excruciating. 

The process of his words that rambled on for an eternity was too much to process, especially with a head injury, and he understood that to the fullest, but the quietness was becoming deafening, as he waited for your words… your rejection… your reciprocation. 

Anything.

And he couldn’t dare look you in the eyes, the ones that pierced his soul so deeply, and he desperately urged you to say something. Anything!

“Y/N?” Beep. Beep. Beep. “Sweetheart…?” His eyes fluttered forward. “Jesus H. Christ, Y/N!” Your peaceful sleep had garnered a frightful reaction from Eddie, as he jumped to his feet to urgently caress your face awake. Of course, when doing so, your eyes tiredly awoke to his face all too close for your liking, and a frown broke your face, as you attempted to move from him. 

“Christ, Eddie.” You debilitatingly rasped. “What are you doing?”

“Me?! What are you doing? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be going to sleep, you have a concussion! I-Isn’t that, like, something you shouldn’t do?!” He cupped your face straight to the blinding ceiling light, that had you mewling with annoyance. 

“Eddie, I can remember Reagan’s speech, and the fall of the Berlin Wall.” You dragged, prying his concerned hands off your face. “I think I’ll be just fine going to sleep. God, did you just expect me to stay up all night?”

A shuddering breath left his strangling throat, as his hands flexed at the electricity of the touch of your skin. His body tensed, as his round eyes worriedly followed the contours of features. “You didn’t- did you hear me, like, anything that I just said? B-Before you- I woke you up?” 

Your brows concave with a furrow of confusion, as you peered up at him through wispy lashes. “What’d you say?”

A deep sigh left his dry lips, as he flashed you a small smile filled with sincerity. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It was nothing.” His hands gently worked to cover your body further with blankets to keep you warm, as your suspicious stare hesitantly nodded in acceptance to his words. “Y-You hungry, or-or need more blankets? Painkillers, anything?”

You delicately rejected his help with a shake of your head. “Just tired.” You softly answered. “And you should probably leave, too. Get some sleep.”

Despite his mind refusing your proposal, he knew your rest was vital for recovery, and he watched you slowly turn your back to him, as his slow steps marked his way to the door. So lonely, he gazed at your tired body curl up into itself like it once did when his presence was actually yearned by you; all safety once found in his embrace, as he promised to never let go. And though he never did, his actions forced you to let go, as he now had to bear witness to seeing you become content with yourself. Something he could never imagine doing so. 

His finger flipped the switch. You never were a fan of the overhead lights. And once so, a peaceful sigh buried its way from your parted lips, as your mind rested in tranquil darkness. 

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob that allowed the hallway light to bleed in. But his eyes couldn’t dare leave you once more. Five months of deprivation killed him every passing day, and one glimpse of your beaten self made him feel like an addict breaking their withdrawal. There was once a time in which he was beckoned with the devastating occurrence of you leaving him no choice but to watch you walk away. Now, he had an opportunity. A chance. To walk away. Or stay. Leaving you alone, hurting, in a cold, empty hospital room was too heartbreaking of an option to ever endure, and he was vowing to his words of never hurting you again. 

He gently closed the door with no intent to deceive you, but rather care for you. Right now, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And his mind felt at peace knowing he could watch over you; his heart dissipating to the rhythm of calmness only you could bring him to. His quiet steps guided him back to the stiff chair that numbed his bottom and stabbed at his back. But it all became worth it, finally seeing you at peace, after the last weeks he ever got to see you your face had been permanently etched in distress, because of him. 

Despite being awake for nearly twenty-two hours now, Eddie Munson spared a couple more just to look at you.

The morning to follow, Dr. Rosenthal had commented greatly on the normalcy of your brain. And Eddie felt envious. You could take thirty more blows to the head, and your brain would still function far better than his ever could. You, unfortunately, had no chance to question his lingering presence, since your body had been awakened by the prodding of a nurse who kindly checked if your vitals were up to par. You figured you’d save her the awkwardness of interrogating your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar.

“If necessary, just some acetaminophen of your choice once every four to six hours depending on the instructions. But if your pain seems to not be improving, I’ll surely write you a prescription for a triptan, whichever one we can work out best for you.” You nodded along, subtly watching Eddie in the corner of your eye, who was listening too intently for someone who was bound to leave in a couple minutes. “And for your stitches, twice a day, remove the old coverage, clean off, and apply a new gauze. After a while, you should be okay with doing it once, and by the two, two and half week mark, I’ll have a referral to remove them when the time comes.” You sighed, taking a minute to let your head process the instructions of the older gentleman before you. “Alrighty, any questions?”

“No, really, you’ve been so helpful with everything-”

“She can’t drive, right?” Eddie butted in. 

Dr. Rosenthal took a long second to peer at him, before clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t recommend it under your symptoms. Nausea and dizziness can impair your ability, so we can call someone, arrange transp-”

“I already got that covered.” Eddie spat a smirk back in retaliation. 

“As long as it’s okay with you.” Dr. Rosenthal sympathetically smiled at you.

You drew out a defeated sigh, and watched Eddie react like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Fine.” You begrudged. 

“Alright then, you go ahead and take the time needed to gather your things, and you can check out at the front desk.” Your trusted doctor assured you. “Call me if you have any questions or concerns, and I’ll gladly help. You have a Merry Christmas, Ms. Y/L/N.” Eddie was spared from a polite holiday goodbye. 

You gently smiled. “Thank you, have a Merry Christmas, as well.” 

With a click of the door behind him, Eddie was quick to let out a breath of relief, as though Dr. Rosenthal lifted a burden off his shoulders. His hasty movements brought your bag of clothes from beneath your hospital bed to plop against your legs. “These yours?” He pried the drawstrings open. 

“No, they’re the lady’s who gave birth before this became my room.” Eddie deadpanned, continuing to rummage through your belongings.

He snorted. “Psh, no pregnant lady would wear an Anthrax tee.” Something that very much still belonged to him, as he threw your t-shirt to your chest. 

“Did you stay here after I told you not to?” Your eyes glared in a deadly squint that challenged his snarkiness. 

“N-No.” A big, fat lie. His gaze was avoidant of yours, as his hands worked hurriedly to empty the bag of your pants… a brown flannel… your right Reebok… then the left, of course… an earring that stabbed him… the other that didn’t, because he learned his lesson… and some pretty, pretty pink panti-

“Stop looking at those!” You snatched the lacy material from his hands, as he threw his arms up in defense. “And if you didn’t stay, why are you still wearing the same clothes?” You prodded further. 

“Oh, my god, I didn’t stay.” He huffed. And you hated the portion of your heart that allowed his words to hurt you, because how come he didn’t stay? “Just headed back to the hotel, took a nap, and came back here early.”

You allowed your hurt to bite back. “That’s gross, you smell.” But he’ll permit your chastising insults if it meant you wouldn’t be angry at him for going against your wishes. 

“Can you just hurry up and change, so I can take you home.” He rolled his eyes. “I arranged a car to have us picked up, and take you home.” 

“I hope you know how pretentious that sounds.” And Eddie Munson stared and stared, as you balled your clothes into the sanctity of your lap. “Well, don’t look, turn around.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped, laughing in disbelief. “Please, sweetheart, I’ve been staring at you naked for the past seven years of my life.”

“You know what? Just for that, you can go to the bathroom and wait, until I say so.” You smiled, so pleased to watch Eddie scoff incredulously. 

Eddie turned on his heels with an exhale of exasperation to match, as he strutted his way into the tiny bathroom. “Can just close my eyes, and picture you naked.” Luckily with his back turned, he wouldn’t dare notice the small smile that cracked your face. 

Eddie’s mind had been buzzing with thoughts for the entire forty-five minutes it took for the chauffeur to pull up and parallel park in front of your townhouse. Like clockwork, your brow arched upon seeing the movements that followed yours: Eddie clicking his seatbelt. “Look, don’t give me that look, I already know what you’re about to say, but please, just let me come in, and help you.” You huffed, letting your eyes bounce from the window to his face that was hardened with determination. “C’mon, let me make it up to you this one time.”

Another defeated ‘fine’ was murmured under your breath, as Eddie made the quick trip to help you out of the car. “Just head back, man, I’ll call you when I need to.” Numerous bills were discreetly slid into the hands of the driver, before he took his cue to leave the neighborhood. 

“Hey, Y/N!” The blizzarding winter left the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk to lose their green shrubbery; your one shield from the sun that still blazed its light down the Demember wind. But through the glares, you matched that voice to the friendly neighbor who lent you his ladder… and subsequently took you to the hospital once you fell off. 

“Oh, hi, Trevor!” You waved to him from atop of his stairs, as you caught sight of the reusable bags of groceries in his hand. 

“Hm, Trevor.” Eddie hummed quietly beside you. 

Despite the cold, he took the needed steps down to speak to you at a volume that didn’t require yelling. “Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you at the hospital so suddenly, Andreas’ car broke down when she tried to leave from work, and I had to go help her-”

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, it’s okay!” You reassured him from any guilt. “Seriously, I was out for most of my time there, and you already helped so much with bringing me there.”

“Yeah, and I was going to head back to check on you, but they told me your partner-”

“Yeah, me! Y’know…” Eddie interjected with a wave, as you suppressed the roll from your eye, watching him proudly identify himself as such with an eager point of his finger. 

“Yeah, hey, Eddie, been a long time since I’ve seen ya, man-”

“Oh, Y/N! Trevor told me all about you!” Andreas' voice echoed from the front door, as her robe clung closely to her body in an effort to house any warmth she could. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, just a couple stitches and a concussion.” As polite as they were, your flannel was only doing so much to shield you from the cold, which was already in hand causing that throb to return from the sharp blinding of the sun. Why wouldn’t they shut up?

Eddie watched the twitch of your eye succumb to your expression. If anything from the last seven years taught him anything, it was that you were two sentences away from a fully engraved scowl chiseling your face; always so unaware of how blatant your emotions showcased. “Speaking of which, I should probably go get her to lay down, and rest!” Eddie smiled, as he took your hand up the stairs to your front door. 

“Of course, no problem.” Trevor kindly smiled. “And, hey, keep my ladder as long as you need, don’t worry about it.” 

An exchange of ‘thank you’s’ finally allowed your neighbor to leave you be, as the key slid into the lock of your door. “That was Andrea, his girlfriend. Are you gonna be jealous if I speak to her, too?”

His laughter warmed the chilled air that smoked his breath. “Fuck off, sweetheart.”

Your house had been all but welcoming upon the first steps. A puddle of blood had stained your wooden floor with the injuries of your head, as fallen garlands messily draped down your walls from your lack of skills with a hammer and nail. You’d never admit to him in a lifetime, but Eddie Munson was surely right that you, personally, were too dimwitted to use tools with no guidance. Turns out a leveler and stud sensor were actually quite useful in keeping your house from being hammered with the countless holes that now decorated your walls. You watched Eddie take in the amateur scenery, his will working overtime to stifle the chuckle that quivered his lips thin. “You make any comments, and I’ll kick you out.”

His hands flew up in defense. “I wasn’t going to say anything- although, how gnarly would a photo of your blood be as our next album cover?”

Giggles of shock coming from you rang in his ear like a catchy melody. “Listen, you came here to help, so please do. I want to shower, and sleep-”

“And eat. That hospital food was shit.” He prioritized. “Go shower, I’ll make you some breakfast,” his watch proved otherwise, “or lunch, I guess, and you can eat before you sleep- oh! And take your medicine, as well. I’ll switch out your bandages when you’re done showering. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just relax for me.”

And you did just so, following the words of his advice brought you to the warmth of your shower, where your limbs fell slack from destressing. You worked around the stitching of your head that stung under hot water, as you maneuvered your hair through the rainfall of the showerhead. But too much steam was beginning to blur your vision, and your shower was cut unfortunately short after you swiftly rid your body of any lingering antiseptic smell that clung to you. 

“Ow, Eddie!” Your hand squeezed his, as your forehead became cushioned by the tone of his torso, where he stood before you. 

As you sat on the toilet, he looked down, and caressed your head gently. “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta get it clean, ‘s all.” A new square of gauze concealed your wound, before a long strip of bandage secured itself around your forehead. Your head lifted from the comfort of his belly, and he bent at the waist to examine your face. A smile grew so naturally. “There… beautiful as always.” There was no denying the lunge in your heart that soared at his words, but your stubbornness withheld the swoon that would have usually followed with a new inure look to your face. Eddie guffawed at your pertinaciousness. “Fine, I hope you know you have a bald spot on the back of your head.”

And he devilishly smiled at your sudden movements to feel around your hair. “It’s only because of the stitches.” You gruffed in protest. “Plus, what the back of my head looks like is none of my business.”

“Still, you’re balding before me.”

And you wanted so desperately to wipe that smirk off his face. “Push back your bangs right now.”

Touche. “You should really eat your food before I spit in it.”

You had the liberty of delving into Eddie Munson’s personally made lukewarm tomato soup, and a sandwich so untimely perfect, the burnt bread did little to match the cheese that surely did not melt. And yet, it did everything to fill that little hole in your heart, as one bite brought you back to the cozy trailer, where endless nights were spent concocting meals from ingredients that scientifically went together, but for some reason refused to work when Eddie touched them. 

He left you alone in the comfort of your bedroom that was once shared with him, as you quietly endured enjoyed your meal, and sat with the events that came about. Seeing Eddie had tumultuously screwed with your already bruised head, and set you back a mile on the path to peace. Where you blamed yourself over the rise of bubbling feelings, you also gave yourself the grace of remembering this man had been the love of your life for seven years. Facing him would be anything but peaceful, and yet, his stupid, round face managed to conjure that settling tranquility of deep contentment within your heart that only ever built under his hands of love and care. But he also managed to tear it, and that was something beyond the repairs of five months apart. No matter how brutal. Your pillow still stained with the tears of endless cries over the insecurities of no longer being good enough for him. But if you sniffed deep enough, his burrowed cologne would fume into your nose at night that allowed you to gain a safe sleep during the dark hours. 

How polarizing he could be was beyond the study of any scientist. 

Between the last slurp of your soup, your eyes succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, as what was intended to be a half an hour nap prolonged into a five hour doze, until the sun decided to rest for the evening, bleeding its red into a darkening sky. As advised by your doctor, a couple pills were to be popped to alleviate that ache that would haunt you for days to come, so with a march to the kitchen ahead, you called for the man you needed most. “Eddie!” Drowned by your tiredness, your voice did little to amplify his name from the second floor. “Eddie!” But a second call of his name proved to be useless when nothing followed in return.

Dr. Rosenthal surely hadn’t been lying about the aftermath of dizziness, as the simple event of walking down your staircase had turned into an olympic sport that nearly caused another blow to your head if it hadn’t been for the obscene tightness of your grip on the railing that descended. “Eddie, seriously! I’ve been calling you, can’t you hear?!”

The quietness of your home answered back, as you approached the bottom steps of the stairs, where suddenly soft lights straightened the blurred lines of your eyes to the clarity of a beautiful glow. Warm lanterns and sticks of candles kindled your chimney and center table, where red bows of various sizes decorated themselves along your living room to match the ribbon of your Christmas tree that had not been put up prior to your waking. Sweet scents of cinnamon and pines worked magically to calm the agitated nerves of your head, and your eyes dragged in awe to the breathtaking display of green garlands that dressed your home to the Christmas perfection you always dreamed of. 

Your eyes watered, and though you knew he wouldn’t answer, you still quietly spoke. “Eddie?”

So simple, yet so fulfilling, your heart soared at the work of his hands that ached for your happiness. While it did not amount to the pain he once dragged you through, a meaningful smile that hadn’t been flashed in months finally etched its place onto your face where it perfectly belonged.

And much to your dismay, but simultaneously your biggest hope… it was because of him. 

While it broke your spirit for his efforts to take so long to return, you smiled through your hurting cries, as you finally gained the wish for your Eddie—once lost, now running through the wooded path to be found—to return. And with it, a note to keep your heart content with the soundness of peace. Whether it be with Eddie. Whether it not be with Eddie. 

At the very least, you got your Christmas spirit. 

Management wants to bitch me out, I’m sorry I had to leave you :( but I’m gonna convince ‘em to let me stay in Indy for a while. Kinda hard to say no to a face like mine, you know? You know. Call me to make sure you’re okay, sweetheart, or I’ll break into your house! - Love, Eddie

P.S, gave Trevor his ladder back, so don’t speak to him :)

[sea-of-dust]

Hello. Could you do a headcanon or story about Yandere Acheron x Reader (gender neutral).

The reader doesn’t care about Acherons yandere-ness.

Example:

Acheron: I killed someone.

Y/n: Uh-huh.

Acheron:…you… don’t care?

Y/n: No. I don’t know the person anyway. Soooo what now? Wanna game?

Yandere! Acheron x GN! Reader

"So if I were to-" "go for it"

N: thank you for the request annon!! First yandere request 🎉

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, stalkers, murder, most you'd expect with a yandere fic

Acheron isn't a yandere that would usually kill. She is, at most, a scary dog. Always lurking over your shoulder in public and sitting closely to you. This apparent part of her nature is why you rarely catch onto her yandere like habits.

The fact that when there were obvious signs like her staring down a person that looked at you for longer than she'd like. You just didn't care. She could plan something about how to get rid of someone she saw as dangerous toward you out loud, maybe on a pen and paper, and stick it to the fridge. You'd look at it for two seconds, "must be a new hobby" and then go on with your day

Acheron, however, was non the wiser. Even though she already has you, she's afraid you'd leave her because of what could be considered a major overreaction. Even though you could have reported a stalker of yours to the police wouldn't it be quicker to just take them out? She isn't gonna take any chances after she killed them, turning off the news to a different channel, saying that it's always the same thing, not wanting to take the chance that maybe the family didn't cover this one up, her being unable to make eye contact with you for a short while is also telling that, she knows what she did would benefit you, but how would you feel if you had known?

So another fated event, another person eyeing you with glints of admiration, obsessing over every muscle that moves in your face to make words, to blink. nearly drooling over you. At the very least, she would be annoyed, leaving the cafe and hearing "I think that guy's on a wanted list" from you, inspired maybe too much looking over your back while walking home and then doing enough research to know his whole family. As soon as he was an established threat, she had already known his route home, sneaking away from you to cut him off. All she had to do now was go back to you and-

"Acheron?" You narrow your eyes. "Y/n." She froze, it would be strange to leave the scene now, she tries to think of a way to leave only for her thoughts to rage on about how you had caught her. "I gotta start paying more attention to you, how do you get so far?" you exhale grabbing her hand "let's go I finally found a couch co-op game" you tug at her hand, finally getting her to move, walking away you lean onto her shoulder. "You killed him didn't you" "what makes you think that?" She remains calm, walking at the same pace she always did, her hand as firm around yours as usual.

"There was a strong smell in that alley, not to mention" you poke her finger "there's a red spot on the hand you wield your sword with" you hum but she stays silent, continuing to walk with you. "What will you do?" Her response is low squeezing your hand subconsciously. "Nothing" you reply to her, holding her hand reassuringly. "Knowing you, they were probably bad news to begin with" you unlock your phone to show her the game you were telling her about. "Now let's get home and play this!" Your eyes sparkle going on about the game. Acheron smiles as a wave of relief crashes over her, thanking every Aeon known to man. She'll enjoy seeing that precious smile of yours, till the day you care about how far she's willing to go for you

[noircheols]

˗ˏˋ  AS THE SUN HITS ; l. seokmin ´ˎ˗

she'll be waiting, with her cool things, and her heaven. (7.6k+)

⋆ SYNOPSIS. ― you were his muse, the motivation behind every note he strummed on his lyre, and every verse he sang. but now the air that would rush through his lungs as he'd sing could only be pried from your cold dead hands.

⋆ INFO. ― angst, fluff, ancient greece!au, historical fantasy!au, greek mythology!au, hurt no comfort

⋆ PAIRING. ― orpheus!dokyeom x eurydice!reader

⋆ PRNS. ― they / them

⋆ CW. ― MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood, seokmin can carry the reader, seokmin is afraid of dying cus of hubris, hades!minghao and persephone!jun take on gender fluid-esque forms for my sake (dont question it), mentions of starving, s3xu4l 4ssault mention (verbal), alcohol, food, kissing, pet names (my love, darling), possible historical/mythological inaccuracies, mentions of a beheading, mentions of poisoning, mentions of vomitting, light smut mention (if u blink u probs won't notice)

⋆ 💬.  ― special thanks to @seokmn for proof-reading!! inspired by a post which quite literally stated "orpheus seokmin x eurydice reader" BUT I LOST IT I WANT TO CRYYY. basically op wanted somebody to write something along those premises so i done just that (not shocked if somebody else got to it first tbh...) IF SO THIS WAS NOT COPIED FROM ANYBODY INTENTIONALLY THIS CAME OUT OF MY TINY BRAIN. i forgot who the original poster is but if anybody figures it out PLEASE TELL ME IMMIDIETALLY !!! this idea isnt mine i just wanted to bring it to life :(

Seokmin's favourite pastime was to have you running your hands through his hair. He loved the way your fingers gently brushed through his scalp, as you coaxed him with sweet nothings after a long day. It's what kept Seokmin going, his knees buckling as the musician climbed the hill to your cottage. Every day followed a very specific routine, you would be diligently looking over your garden, and he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind. It was your voice that renewed his love for music. Every word you spoke perfectly pieced together like a song. The way the corners of your mouth curled into a cheeky smile, the shape reminiscent of his lyre. Everything about you sounded right. It's why you made so much sense as his fiance.

Domestic life, despite his rich imagination, was something Seokmin never envisioned. He had travelled across the globe, seeing all that grew upon Gaia's skin. Kings had discovered his talent from messengers, and out of curiosity, invited him to perform. Everybody that heard his voice was bewitched, with rumours spreading that he was Apollo, the God of the Sun and Music taking on a mortal disguise! For his performances, Seokmin had been offered sparkling gems from the King of the Sea, pearlescent ivory from foreign lands in the South, and olive oil that flowed like honey from the finest of orchards. But Seokmin believed the best gift he had received was the gift of song. The gift of your song. With your song came his most stunning melodies. Melodies which tell the story of a wandering bard’s love for a valley nymph, an auloniad. The bard had only hoped the auloniad would notice him. Fortunately, Seokmin could conclude that the bard had a happy ending, because he was living it.

"You've been working too hard, Minnie."  you giggled as you gently tucked a flower behind his ear. You two sat quietly on your shared bed. Seokmin felt his body sink deeper into the linen with how gentle you were, treating him like he was made from the finest glass. Even with his eyes closed, could feel the warmth of your gaze. "You should tell the King to give you a day off, spend it with me, no?" you winked at the man, whose head rested on your lap. A blissful smile rested on his features. He looked angelic with the way the sunset cast its glow upon him.

"My love, he's invited to our wedding tomorrow! I can't afford to accidentally disrespect him. You know how these things work. There are too many stories of courtesans being beheaded; you don't want your fiance dead just before the fun starts!" he laughed. "Wait— are you planning on getting rid of me!?" his eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his sockets.

"Well, your big brother Wonwoo has been looking so good after becoming a scholar in Athens. It would help if you were out of the picture," you smirked, eager to see your fiance's reaction. Seokmin scoffed loudly, getting up from your lap.

"I'll kill Wonwoo before he can even see you!" Seokmin jokingly yelled before tackling you into the bed to be tickled mercilessly. You squealed "stop" repeatedly as your laugh filled the small house. Seokmin was pleased with your reaction, and finally released you from his grasp. He was hovering on top of you, hair falling in front of his eyes. You wanted every day to be like this. You wanted to see that same hair of his turn white and his face aged with time. You wanted to drown in his neverending love. Marriage would finally make you one being, an entity that shares a future and a past, and two breaths walking.

"I can't wait for us to get married tomorrow," Seokmin sighed, as he reached for your hand to kiss. You smiled as his lips brushed against your knuckles. You had heard from fellow nymphs that marriage was a poison that seeped into your bones, immobilizing you and keeping you trapped in a moment. Nymphs were born to be nothing more than bargain pieces, their names alone meaning "bride". However, you begged to differ.

When it came to Seokmin, you felt free. Never did you feel that you were inferior. Waking up next to him peacefully sleeping, as he spooned you. His soft pleas for you to "stay in bed a little longer". When he'd come home from a long day of performances and litter your face with the sweetest kisses, where he would thank you for "being his muse". Looking into his eyes after a long day felt like staring into the wide skies in the valleys you would live in.

You couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

"You look good," Wonwoo chuckled as he placed a wreath of gold leaves on his younger brother's head. Seokmin took a good look at himself in the mirror, the gold illuminating the spark in his eyes. It was Wonwoo's wedding gift he brought with him from Athens. His brother supposedly enlisted the best of the best goldsmiths with the very little money he had left to his name to make the stunning crown. The gold metal felt heavy on Seokmin's head, but your love was something he would proudly wear.

It was the day of your wedding. Seokmin had invited his human friends he had met on his adventures, and you invited nymphs of every kind. It was still early in the morning, much before the ceremony would commence in the evening (a personal touch Seokmin included; he remembered how you would get up in the middle of the night to stargaze). Still, the garden was bustling with life. He could hear the joyous hollering of well-wishers from outside his thin house walls.

"Look at you, getting married before me." Wonwoo teased. "I thought you were going to die in a tavern as a spinster— thank the Gods that you found [Name] before you met your fate drunk in a random street."

"Please, I'm not THAT miserable." Seokmin pouted at his brother's remarks. Seokmin's chest heaved. He wanted to see you, he wanted to kiss the bridge of your nose and tell him he was honoured to be your companion in life. He wanted to lift your veil off your face and see your doll-like eyes stare into his.

"Do you think..." Seokmin began to trail off. "Do you think they will love me forever? I know I will love them forever, but what if they become too good for me?"

"Well, Heraclitus had famously stated 'you cannot step into the same river twice' with his Doctrine of Flux—"

"Please don't go all scholar on me! I'm going to my wedding, not to school,"

"All I'm saying is, love never remains constant. It's a dynamic entity, but then again, you and [Name] are pretty dynamic too. You match each other perfectly, it's like Aphrodite blessed you. Although, my little brother has always been loved by the Gods." Wonwoo smoothly explained.

Like Aphrodite blessed me.

Seokmin gave himself a proud smile in the mirror before putting on the rest of his wedding garments.

Brushing the blackened ash of incense over your lashes, you grinned satisfied with your reflection in your hand mirror. You didn't previously imagine marriage or starting a family because you had heard so many stories from fellow nymphs of their nightmare affairs. But once again, Seokmin was different. He had the sincerest of emotions for you, and you for him.

You took a good look outside of your window, inhaling the fresh air. The air was particularly sweet today, maybe it was from the plethora of figs and wine available. Or, maybe it was because your heart swelled so much with excitement from the wedding all your senses were being overshadowed. The cottage you and Seokmin resided in was looking exceptional today, with the bouquets of wildflowers and candles. The cottage was a gift bestowed to you and Seokmin by the King of Aeolia, who adored Seokmin's music. The orchards were bountiful, the fruit plump and sweet. The garden was your favourite place, as you were previously a follower of the nomadic forest deity, Pan. You remember vividly how you first met Seokmin.

You were stringing flowers up from the Earth when you heard a scream ripple through your valley. You chuckled softly to yourself. Humans. Still, there were many stories of them searching for greatness, ignorant to the fact that they were designated to ultimately become the dirt they walk on. Your previous lover, a minor God of trickery, would boast about his status and the inferiority of humankind. You’d laugh at his stories of luring humans to their death, but you were aware that nymphs were just as weak— if not weaker, than humans. Really, nymphs and humans were two different sides of the same coin— two entities that were used by the Gods as playthings to pass their time as immortals. However, a key difference was that humans spent their time locked away in their big marble palaces and scriptures, and nymphs would be imprisoned by the freedom of the wilderness.

What would a human be doing out here in auloniad territory?

You tracked down the origin of the sound, finding yourself deep in the forest. "STAY BACK!" the man shrieked. You peeked behind a willow tree, its long branches acting as a disguise, and you cracked a wicked smile. The man, clutching his lyre, was cornered to the back of a tree by a boar. The beast snarled, showing off its sharpened and bloodied teeth. Boars, to auloniads, were like what puppies were to humans. If this were any other human, you would have allowed the beast to have its way. But something about this man, with his big doe eyes and perfectly sculpted face made him seem... different. He held an aura— no, a glow, that made you interfere.

"Alright, Sherman, please don't eat the nice guest." you stepped out from your hiding spot, cooing at the beast. The boar stopped its hunt once it heard your voice. It trotted over to you, for you to cup its face. "Aren't you just adorable!" you gushed, ruffling with its fur.

Seokmin's eyes fell onto you, fear evaporating from his body. You were... magnificent. He had seen beautiful people before, when he was entertaining royalty. Princes and princesses would throw themselves on him, begging to take him to bed. But you were beautiful like the waterfalls he'd see on his journeys, birds chirping signalling a new day, the rocky steppes of mountainous terrains in Crete.

"His name is Sherman?" Seokmin began to laugh.

"Her." you giggled, as the beast revelled in your affection. Seokmin began to laugh to himself, wondering how the same vicious boar, who had chased him from across the forest, could resemble the same characteristics as a harmless puppy under the right touch.  You released Sherman, letting her go to run off into the wild. 

"Thank you for saving me," Seokmin spoke up, drinking in the nymph's beauty. You laughed— goodness, how could somebody be so charming? "Next time when you come into this neck of the woods, I'd advise you to not play any instruments. Boars are extremely sensitive to noise. Rather, go to the Pineios River to practice." you advised. "What were you playing, anyways?" being a nymph, curiosity bested you. It’s not always you get a human in your hand.

"Oh, just this old thing!" Seokmin brought a rather strange thing from his dilapidated satchel, a gold tubular instrument.

“And… what is it?”

“A salpinx! Its pretty loud though, soldiers use this in battles. Maybe this thing is why Sherman wanted to kill me…” Seokmin thought out loud. You giggled at the human's cuteness. He was endearing, like a fawn.

“Well, I should get going now, back to doing absolutely nothing.” you chuckled. As you began trekking up the forest, you heard Seokmin call out to you.

“Wait!— Why don’t I play something for tomorrow, just the two of us? At the Pineios River!” Seokmin offered.

He was composed when it came to playing in front of giant cyclops to convince them to let him live, at weddings of huge political significance, impressing the Goddess of Arts and Crafts, and setting wild lions to sleep with gentle lullabies. But to have you in his audience was the most nerve-wracking thing to him. To feel your eyes bore deep into him was… tantalizing. To be the object of your attention, as you spend your days together lazing in each other's company. He had never felt stage fright before. But that only motivated him to perform the best he could.

Grinning, you turned your head around. “I’d love to.”

He knew at that moment he wanted to marry you, and that feeling only grew stronger every time he played for you.

The festivities were in full swing. Guests took it upon themselves to feast on the multiple honey-flavoured sweets prepared and the platter of goat's cheese with cucumbers and figs. There was an overwhelming amount of wine available to wash it down. "Eat it all up and vomit it all out" was the Ancient world's favourite way to pass the time. Amongst all their excitement, Seokmin was oddly quiet.

"You aren't eating anything," Wonwoo observed, eyeing his brother's untouched plate.

"Something feels wrong," Seokmin responded, voice hushed so only his brother could hear.

"How?" Wonwoo asked before going for a second lamb rib.

“It feels like… my life is going to change tonight.” Seokmin solemnly spoke. “I mean— aside from the fact I’m literally getting MARRIED. But, I don’t know, something is telling me I should check in on [Name].”

"Maybe you’re just experiencing pre-wedding anxiety. It's common.” Wonwoo explained. Wonwoo was Seokmin’s polar opposite, in that he viewed convoluted situations as simple problems with logical answers. Wonwoo was reasonable, a characteristic all scholars possessed. Growing up, in difficult situations, it was Wonwoo’s brain that triumphed over Seokmin’s heart. “I'm sure [Name] is alright, they have all their friends. Just trust me on this and eat your food." Seokmin gave a weak nod before picking up a fig to eat.

Seokmin wishes he had listened to his heart before it was too late.

By evening, Seokmin was expected to have wed you already. By now, you would be dancing to his lyre with a careless smile with the stars smiling down on your union. But as Seokmin searched tirelessly for you, he could hear the stars laughing wickedly.

“My love?!!” Seokmin called out for his love. "Please, answer me!" Seokmin's eyes frantically scanned over the almost endless rolling hills. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. At first glance, the ocean was inviting and almost harmless, but the danger was in its infinite grasp over the world. But Seokmin would claw through the waves if it meant he could be with you.

"No sign of them here!" one of his wedding guests shouted.

"Over here!" one of your nymph friends called out, waving at him. Seokmin ran over to see what was happening, and his heart sank. You lay peacefully on the tall grass, as though you were just in a deep sleep. The earth was waiting for you to finally return to its arms. It had yearned for your return ever since you left the valley to travel alongside Seokmin. Now that you have returned to it, Seokmin knew better than anybody it wouldn't let you go. 

"We were all just dancing, like we normally did and—" another nymph choked on her tears, rolling down her cheeks at the same tempo of the beads of blood rolling down your ankle and staining the lush bed of grass underneath. "We were startled by an entourage of hunters, threatening us with all sorts of crude things, because that's all nymphs are good for. But [Name] wouldn't take any of it, and soon enough, it delved into an argument— and the huntsman just shoved them so hard that they stumbled onto a stupid venomous snake."

Rage.

There had never been a moment where Seokmin felt so much rage.

What was even more bitter was that your blood was trickling into the Pineios River, the same place he had given his first performance to you. The sounds of the water gently crashing against the shore did nothing to soothe him. His world, you, had just stopped. But the rest of the world still flooded past your body, reminding him that he was just another pebble in the riverbed that was life. The river, which was supposed to be a natural monument to your love, was now stained by your death. You had deliberately chosen to get married by the Pineios River and to have your cottage here, because this is where time would stand still for you and him.

"Where are those hunters?" Seokmin questioned, as he scooped you into his arms. It hurt him that you were so perfect. Even in your final moments, you chose to remain generous and protect the people you love most. How he wished you could have been more selfish.

"They ran off into the woods, laughing to themselves..." another responded.

Seokmin's fingers clung to your figure, hoping to feel your blood rush. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to bring you back and finalize his vows with you. He was supposed to carry you into your shared cottage as blushing newlyweds, staring up at the ceiling together because that was your favourite thing to do. But here he was, carrying your cold lifeless body. That same body which he spooned to sleep. Just moments ago, he woke you up with a kiss on the forehead. How did moments seem so distant?

Burying his face in your chest, Seokmin sobbed. Maybe he could hear your heart beat once more? Maybe you could feel his warmth, and then you would regain your spark and miraculously come back to life. Your eyes would flutter open, and you could spend your last moments with him in the sweet bliss of domesticity. Seokmin thought that if he wailed loudly enough, the Gods would hear his pleas and give him his greatest love. His big brother's words, "Beloved by the gods," echoed in his mind, ringing painfully in his memories.

No human could ever be loved by a god. Not the same way he loved you, at least.

He loved you. And that's what was going to be his undoing.

It had been days since the wedding. Seokmin hadn't been eating regularly. Some twisted part in his mind lashed at him for not being there to protect you. He should have been the last thing you saw. He should have held you so as you shut your eyes and left this world he could have been able to say goodbye. He wishes he could have been able to say goodbye. Or maybe, he wouldn't need to say goodbye, because he would keep you away from those hunters and you would have never tripped. It doesn't matter now, because while your breath was faltering and your heart slowed he was feasting without a care in the world.

Seokmin also stopped sleeping. It's grown to hurt him too much. Every time he would close his eyes to rest, he hoped that when he woke up, it was all a part of a cruel trick his mind was playing on him. But it never was. It then grew to become him trying to sleep forever, so that time would pass by seamlessly and he would shrivel and find himself in the Underworld with you. But it would never work. It was because he was selfish. He would wake up in the middle of the night, his chest heaving and gasping for air. As much as he was terrified of losing you, perhaps most importantly, he nursed a fear of dying. He was a coward who turned his back on death, the only time humans are treated equally. But he was not like the rest, he was a jewel amongst the rock garden of humanity, and you were supposed to adore him. He was vain, but any artist with self-respect was. Why should he be treated the same as other humans, when he was a hero of far-off kingdoms and Apollo's champion?

Rather than disappointing himself, he took to roaming the gardens you tended to so ardently. "I'm still a nymph, after all! I’m good with plants" your voice rang clearly in his head like a bell.

Staring mindlessly at the flowerbed, meddling with the strings of his lyre, singing to himself. All he could think about was how spring was treading forth on its heels, bringing flowers in their bloom. But when you died, you left him none of the bright colours that dotted your shared world. Maybe, he could catch the Goddess of Spring, Persephone, and beg her to convince her husband to bring you back to him. The Goddess of Spring, or as he likes to appear to humans, Jun.

Seokmin knelt before the once flourishing bed of flowers, singing once more. Louder. With more strength. Maybe Apollo won't fail him, and will take his golden chariot mounted by swans to pluck you back from Hades and return you back home. You would emerge from the shining beams of sunlight, and you will both laugh about this cruel dream. If Apollo could gift him his lyre, surely he could gift him his love?

Seokmin's eyes fluttered, feeling those restless nights catching up on him. His exhaustion made him mistake the dirt as a gigantic pillow. Seokmin's shoulders sank, as he lowered his head. Maybe the dirt will consume him and crush him into a fine dust that will leave nothing but his soul, free to travel between worlds and free to reunite with you. But— then he would be gone. He would be nothing more than the dirt people stepped on. He could no longer hear the music of the world he loved so much.

"No!" Seokmin shook himself awake. His eyes slowly enlarged. That once large brown pillow suddenly had flowers sprouting out of its barren surface. Soft pink blooms with thin twig-like stems, native to the craggy stony steppes of Aeolia, called evia. Your favourite flowers. There was only one possible explanation of how this could have happened.

A figure walked towards the bard, long pastel pink silk trailing to the ground and flowers from every part of the world woven into his hair. Jun. The manifestation of the Goddess of Spring.

"A nymph was sobbing in the Underworld about you, mortal." his voice echoed.

"How did you find me?" Seokmin bowed in front of the Goddess, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the ground.

"Please, enough of these formalities! I'm not going to drag you down to the Underworld." Jun chuckled, finding Seokmin amusing. The Goddess of Spring was much kinder than his husband, that's for sure. Although, that didn't mean they didn't share the same sense of gallows humour. It makes the Ancients let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't Hades allowed to crawl the service and take all who frustrated him back underneath the Earth's crust to never be seen again. "As one finds all champions of Apollo, find where the sun shines brightest and where the music sounds sweetest."

"What are you doing here, then?"

Jun merely laughed at that question. "What gall you have, mortal! Asking why spring goes where it wishes?" Jun stopped laughing, catching his breath.

"Normally, I don't care about the dead. That's Minghao's job. It's so glum, don't you think? Listening to whining brats isn't really my forte, thank goodness he's so patient." Minghao was the chosen mortal name of Hades, the malevolent ruler of the Underworld, waiting for the fall of every being from the shadows. “Patient” was certainly one way to describe him.

"But this one was special. Wailing as loud as possible so Apollo could hear them, but alas! His home is high up in the sky, he's too brilliant for us! Minghao told me that this was the soon-to-be spouse of Apollo's champion. Naturally, I was curious about them, since they had managed to capture the attention of one who is in Apollo's favour."

"I'm honoured to have caught your attention, but..." Seokmin paused, wondering what to say. "Will you please bring them back?"

"Bring out your hands, mortal." Jun sighed, reaching down to pick up an evia. Reluctantly, Seokmin laid his palm flat. "Minghao always explains to me that mortality is chained to time. The second a mortal is born, the clock never stops ticking. Second after second" Jun tears off a petal. "day after day." and another. "Year by year." and another. "Your darling was already dying. Until finally—" SNAP! Jun rips the stem in half. "The clock stopped." Jun brushed off the broken flower into Seokmin's palm. "Now if you excuse me, my curiosity has been satiated."

"Forgive me for my intrusion, but you're immortal. I don't think you should be explaining how death works to me." Seokmin spoke up without thinking. What had gotten into him!? Why was he challenging a goddess!? Guilt sunk into him. "I'm so sorry! I— I was speaking without thinking!" Seokmin got on all fours. Jun once again laughed.

"Mortal, do you think I'm enraged? On the contrary, I'm amused!" Jun smiled, kneeling to grab Seokmin's chin and make him look into his eyes, bright like flowers emerging from the cold winter snow. "I'm nothing like those old hags on Olympus! I like your attitude. I was worried that Apollo favoured idiots, but I'm glad he finally chose somebody with a mouth!"

"I— Really??" Seokmin was at a loss for words, getting back up on his feet. "All I ask is, I have a word with Hades. I'm sure he will understand my plight."

"Are you saying you want to challenge him?"

"I mean, you are his bride. You have his affections, surely he will listen to you!" Seokmin pleaded. "Please, I need to see [Name]. Every day has been worthless for me. Food has no taste, music has no rhythm." Seokmin stumbled on his words, his mouth clogged by the emotions plaguing his heart.

"You do understand, mortal, that the dead is not my kingdom. Once we head to the Underworld, I won't be able to protect you." Jun explained. Seokmin sighed, weighing the options.

"I've travelled oceans and fought monsters, talking with the King of the Underworld seems like nothing if I can have [Name] back," Seokmin answered.

Jun wryly smiled, his eyes mischievously glinting with the opportunity to witness a game, as he began his long walk back home. "Well, onwards we go then. It's a long way back." Seokmin firmly nodded, picking up his lyre, as that was all he'd need. "Seriously? That's all?" Jun quirked an eyebrow. Seokmin nodded. Jun scoffed. Maybe all of Apollo's favourites were idiots.

Finally done climbing up the stony steps, Seokmin arrived at the large entrance of Hades's palace. Dark obsidian columns with silver accents and a large door handle of bone, except large bouquets crawling down its walls (courtesy of Jun).

"Let's go over some basics before you meet him, alright?" Jun turned to Seokmin. "Number one, don't touch anything! Otherwise, you're stuck here for good. Instead, let me open this door for you." Jun leaned against the cool frame of the door. "Number two, Hades isn't nearly as cruel as you mortals make him out to be. He's actually quite fair, as death should be."

"Death wasn't fair to my love." he huffed, letting his true feelings show. Jun knew this feeling of resentment toward Minghao wasn't uncommon. So many mortals beg for his forgiveness, to make their deaths as seamless as the flow of time. But even then mortals resent death for taking their loved ones away.

"That's what they all say." Jun rolled his eyes. "Third, play by his rules. Minghao normally finds you mortals championed by the arrogant Gods of Olympus to be so prideful, so it'll be refreshing to see something opposite of that, and you'll be in his graces." Seokmin's ears perked at the last bit. Could he wager immortality, then? Could he have you and him enjoying the future without the fear of it ending?  "Number four, and most importantly. It's easier to get into the Underworld than to leave it."

"Alright so no touching, Hades is nice, listen to him, and it's hard to leave." Seokmin recounted.

"Exactly!" Jun gave a thumbs-up before the gates opened for him.  "Now put your game face on, Champion of Apollo." Seokmin quietly followed after Jun, his eyes glazing over the palace. Each wall held engraving of different stories, all stories which shared an ending in the Underworld. The final destination for all.

"Hao!" Jun called. "I brought you somebody!"

"Leave them at the front desk, the clerk will sort them out!" Minghao replied, his voice booming. Seokmin covered his ears, he forgot how loud the voices of Gods appeared to regular people. Jun opened the last gate, and into the throneroom. Seokmin's jaw dropped. He could only imagine being back at the cottage with you, composing a song of Hades and rescuing you. The large throne perched upon stairs of what looked like sizzling magma. Seokmin gulped looking at the throne, composed of skeletons, all of them belonging to those who had mocked the King of the Underworld. Most importantly, was the very king that sat comfortably on his throne. Seokmin imagined the king to be hot-tempered, like the fires which scorched wrong-doers. But it was very much the opposite. Cold. Cold like a corpse when it stops breathing.

"I bring to you, a Champion of Apollo! This is the one we were talking about earlier, the fiance of the nymph." Jun turned to Seokmin, signalling for him to follow.

"Um, uh— greetings, your... awfulness? I would say highness, but we are at the lowest part of the Earth. Would your lowness work better?" Seokmin mumbled, awkwardly, kneeling in front of Hades.

"Isn't this exciting!" Jun forced a smile, mentally face-palming.

"He isn't dead." Minghao finally spoke, a chill piercing through the room. "Stand, mortal. I want to look at the one who dares challenge me." Minghao stepped down from his throne as Seokmin's legs struggled to stand up without wobbling. Jun sighed, knowing this was where his power over Minghao ended. As Jun walked up to his own throne adorned in flowers, he turned to Seokmin and mouthed "Good luck."

"Mortal, you dare mock me? Using my bride as a bargaining piece, breaching my palace, and all while your heart still beats?" Minghao threatened, analyzing the man in front of him. Minghao was perfect. Perfect in the way all Gods are. But he was impressed with Seokmin, that even compared to a God he was able to stand proud. "It makes sense that you caught Apollo's attention, but I detest the Gods of Olympus. They keep me underground, send me humanity’s worst, and expect my generosity." he scoffed.

"I— I only have one wish for you." Seokmin finally spoke. Minghao raised a brow. "I suspect it has something to do with shipment #50A194. The auloniad." Minghao thought out loud.

"You assign numbers to everybody who comes here?"

"People die every day, I have to keep track somehow." the God casually shrugged. "They were nothing like other nymphs. Normally, nymphs are relieved to come to my arms, as humans and gods alike toy with them. But this one was upset. This one says you have shown them something special, something that makes my kingdom pale in comparison. I wonder what it is." Seokmin's answer of “music” hung in the air.

"All I ask from you is that you return my love to me." Seokmin blurted. A beat of silence. Seokmin felt the air around him suffocate him, his body growing numb. Another beat of silence.

Minghao stepped closer to Seokmin. "Are you afraid of dying, mortal?" Seokmin froze.

"W-what?" he tried playing it off, but Minghao knew the living just as well as the dead, and the racing of his heart gave him away.

"You champions are all the same. You lead fruitful lives, you find great loves and great riches. But you all are terrified of the end." Minghao smoothly explained. "Just because the sun bends in your favour, doesn't mean death will. You are a coward, is what you are. A coward that fears his end! You will not do what is natural and wait for death to find you. No, instead you will mock death. You will find death, and you will demand it give you what you deserve. Your love for [Name] is not true!"

"OK ENOUGH!" Seokmin roared back, tears dripping down his face. "I love [Name]. More than anything. You can call me a coward, I don't care." Seokmin spoke. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a satisfied Jun enjoying his performance. His vision began to obscure with tears falling once more from his eyes. "Yes, I'm scared of dying. I hate the idea of it. I know it is everybody's fate, but the journey has to be completed alone. I cannot bear the idea of being alone. I cannot bear the idea of being without [Name]." Seokmin looked at the god, gaze unfaltering and filled with rage, the same that filled him on the day of your death. 

"Fine. I admit, I empathize with your cause." Minghao reluctantly sighed. "I shall retrieve your love, and dress them in the finest of Underworld garments and jewels so you can have a wedding ceremony even better than the last." "Really?" Seokmin blinked.

"There is an exit out of the Underworld only Jun and I know, you two can hike up it and will be back home in the blink of an eye. However, I have a condition"

"Anything!" Seokmin grinned, already imagining how he would hold you the second you two reunite. You two will exchange stories of brushing with the Underworld and the sights. He’ll tell you about his encounter with Persephone and her husband, and you will tell him about your trip across the River Styx. 

"You by any means cannot turn around. Not even go as far as to check on the nymph that will be right behind you. You will only have one chance. If you fail, you shall be separated from each other in eternity." Minghao sternly spoke. Seokmin's smile dropped as quickly as it quirked up. "You are forbidden from communicating to them, as well as touching them. You will also be unable to hear them."

"But, how will I know they are with me!?" "Not my problem." Minghao sighed. "This is the most you're getting from me. Now, shoo." Rolling his eyes, Minghao made his way back to his throne. "The next time I see you, you better be dead. If not, I'll make sure of it."

Seokmin waved goodbye to the kind Goddess of Spring and bowed to Hades to signal his respects to the Underworld. He took a deep breath in, looking up at the glittering light seeping through the cracks. The only exit out of here, and his ticket to freedom. He could imagine the sweetness of your lips kissing him. Your voice sighs in relief that he came to rescue you from oblivion. Standing in his way was a long, steep and rocky path, its width shrinking the closer it was to the exit.

"My love, how I missed you!" you grinned. "You can't believe how abysmal it is here! God, it felt so lonely, I just– I couldn't stop crying."

As he gently stepped forward, he could feel the loose soil underneath him shift and slip. Normally, he would have no concern. You're an auloniad, for crying out loud. Rocky terrain dotted with grass is your home. But the snake bite that pierced your ankle was bound to compromise your movement. He figured he'd just move slowly, for your sake.

"Ah, I fear my leg still hurts from the bite. Could you go a little slowly?"

As Seokmin carefully climbed the rugged steps, a thought popped into his head. Hades did not specify that he was forbidden from singing to himself. It just happened to be a coincidence that you overheard him. Humming to himself (and maybe to you, as well) he strummed the strings of his lyre.

"My favourite song!" you gushed. "Do you remember the first time you performed for me, at the Pineios River? Goodness, you just get better every single day!"

Normally, his song would penetrate through the deepest of depths, and his voice would triumph above all. But it all felt hollow like the darkness of those depths was consuming him whole and slowly pushing him back into the Underworld. He wished, so desperately, to know you were listening. Seokmin couldn't hear your steps or your breathing. It was haunting, how you weren't here on this long climb, yet he could vividly remember you. Grief is strange. How you must restrain yourself from looking back on memories of loved ones corrupted by their death.

"Please, turn around so I can get a good look at you. Don't you think I deserve that, at least?"

Maybe he was doomed. How could he know that Hades wasn't mocking him? The light which had guided Persephone to him and the passion which motivated him was being waned.

"Seokmin, why are you ignoring me?" your voice grew softer. "Is it something I said? Have I upset you? Please, just answer me already. You're making me nervous." You reached out for his hand, but he moved it away.

Feeling the chill of a cold wind brush past his palm, Seokmin moved it closer to his chest, hoping the Underworld hadn’t drained him of his life. When will he get to hold your hand again?

Knees buckling, he let out a sigh of relief that he was finally halfway up, already smiling knowing Apollo was waiting for him with the way the light grew even brighter.

"Darling, please, just talk to me. Say something." you huffed. "Why can't you just turn around!?" You hobbled on your ankle, trying to keep up with your lover, watching him disappear as he moved closer to the light. "I don't understand, what is wrong with you!? Please, just turn around already!" Your eyes began welling with tears, raising your voice as much as possible.

As Seokmin treaded higher up, he noticed the crack enlarge just enough so that he could pop his head through. He let out a long sigh of relief, as cold sweat dripped down his forehead, his knees stinging from exhaustion. What would be the first thing he would do with you on the Overworld? Roll in the grass? Breathe in the fresh air? Hoist you up and listen to your heart beating in your chest? Seokmin tries to think, but the Underworld is unforgiving. The air felt thick and heavy, gravity dragging him down as he tried to tear himself away from its clutches, taunting him that your death was inevitable and that he would soon be ensnared in the Underworld’s net. It casts doubt upon him. Does his music have the strength to pierce through the darkest of moments as he prides himself on? Was his passion enough? Was Hades and Persephone lying to him? The Gods are not exactly above toying with mortals, as that is their favourite pastime. Doubt settled in his mind. 

Seokmin shook his head. He must stay firm. He mustn’t listen to the doubt in his mind and push through. He feared death. He feared the cold wind brushing behind his back, echoing how his story would end. Cold. Dark. Alone. He needed you back with him. He needed your body’s warmth, your light. He needed to die in your arms.

The grating sound of a rock falling off the ledge and into the abyss below obstructed Seokmin’s train of thought, realizing the sound could mean only one thing. “I got you!” he snapped his head back. Seokmin’s jaw dropped, realizing the horrible mistake he had made. “You finally turned around.” you weakly huffed, tears sparkling in the dark. Minghao had kept his word. You were otherworldly. Contrasting against the darkness, you were a bright star, shrouded in a bright white glow. Your beauty only made him even more upset, as his eyes grew wide with the realization he had squandered his last chance. This was easily a pardonable offence, if the spirits knew how to pardon. In their long-spent immortality, never could they empathize with Seokmin’s plight. 

“I… thought.” Seokmin slowly blinked, tears dripping down his face. Breathing heavily, he tried to calm himself down. He thought you had fallen, and your body would crash against the ground like a fallen star. It wasn’t that his love for you was small, but that it was too much. It was overflowing and reckless, just like the nature of youth. He couldn’t resist turning around to help you, especially with the knowledge of your snakebite. The same stupid thing that sent you here. You frowned, heart hurting at the sight of your lover in disarray. Stepping forward, you cupped his face, your touch still lingering with the frost of the Underworld. “Darling, what’s wrong?” You tried to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” he choked on his sobs. “I wasn’t supposed to turn around… but I just got so nervous, I thought you fell,” Seokmin confessed. “I’m an idiot. I failed you. I’m so… so… stupid. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Seokmin screwed his eyes shut, unable to muster the strength to look at what would happen to you now that he failed. Minghao hadn’t specified what would happen if he had failed. Would he send furies to tear you apart? Would he force him to drink poison?  

“No! You’re not an idiot. Don’t be so cruel.” swiping your thumb against his cheek and wiping away his tears. “You’re so brave, coming all the way to rescue me… all because you love me. You failed… because you love me. I’m happy knowing that.” You smiled, knowing the bitter end that was to come to you. They needed to kill you twice for him to let you go. But you had to be strong, for his sake. He was strong enough to challenge the Underworld, the unforgiving end. He was strong enough to face death, his greatest fear, challenging its irreversibility. He was strong enough to defy the laws of nature. The least you could do was comfort him. “I’m so… proud of you.” your touch felt feather light against the heavy mortal flesh weighing him down. “Please… just look at me.”

“But, you’ll be gone!” Seokmin wailed. “I… I’m not strong enough for this! I can’t go on!” 

“You are strong enough. So open your eyes.” your words gently coaxed him. Seokmin inhaled one last time, bracing himself for the horror he was about to witness. As his eyes fluttered open, you were gone as quickly as you had appeared before him. There was no dramatic murder, just a hazy glow left in where you were standing before him. That was how mortality worked, in the eyes of Gods. Mortals come and go on this Earth, in the span of a blink. Mortality, which feels like entering a room and just finding the exit. Mortality, which weighed Seokmin down, and held you in its clutches. It was a signal to him that it was time to wake up from the dream that was you. It was time for him to grow up and to accept mourning the loss of his muse. Falling to his knees, Seokmin sobbed, the noise drowned by the hollow abyss of the Underworld. His voice, which set him apart as a champion of Apollo, was indistinct from the rest of the wailing of the Underworld. 

Maybe you will have a greater fate than him. You will drink from the River Lethe, whose waters flowed through the God of Sleep's cave, causing one to forget the mortal world. Sure, it meant you would forget the blisses and joys you shared above the surface, but it also meant you would forget the pain and sadness. You would wake up, yawning as you ponder the strange figure in your dream named "Seokmin". You would be reborn and would carve a path through the foreign wilderness of the underworld. You would be trapped in a moment, a distant memory of a time of idealistic, passionate, youthful bliss. You would be free. Like you were destined to be. Free from mortal anguish. Free from him. Your skin could never wrinkle, your hair couldn't gray, and your health wouldn't deplete.

Who knows what would have happened if you had returned to him in the mortal realm. Would the love between you dry up? Would your love only be immortalized in a contract, and not in real life? Maybe life will ravage your happy marriage and shred the love that once existed. You would part ways and leave him behind, as you could never truly be his. When would be the last time in your unhappy married life you tell him "I love you"? Would he bar the door when you got sick of him and tried to leave? Would he welcome your newfound hatred of him and show you the way out?

The memory of you would be his prized possession, something to draw inspiration for his music, to know he had the pleasure of experiencing such a love, and to wonder the many possibilities if he were successful in bringing you back. He was fine if you could just stay. It didn't matter if you only stayed in his memory and never talked to him again. But please, stay.

thank you so much for reading — @noircheols do not copy or translate ♧ mlist

[jellyclogs]

how op men react to you calling them darling prt.2

characters: Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Marco, Buggy

y/n has she/her pronouns

Zoro:

“Excuse me?” Zoro laughed.

Your face was suddenly on fire. You hadn't meant to call him darling. You had meant to just ask, “Have you eaten.” you repeated. He looked way too much like the leading man in the romance novel you were reading. It wasn't your fault you called him darling it was the dam books.

“You're missing a part,” Zoro smirked, he was enjoying how flustered you were, it was pretty dang cute.

“Did you eat or not?” you huffed crossing your arms.

“Yeah I did,” he shot you a teasing look, “Darling.”

You thought your face was on fire before… well now it really had to be. You turned and rushed away from him. You might burst into flames from the intensity of your embarrassment. You were going to burn that novel.

“Something wrong darling?” he called after you in a laugh.

Sabo

“Hay Darling could you pass me those papers,” you called to the blond as he was passing your desk painting to a stack of paper across the room from you. You were so engrossed in your work that you hadn't even realized what you'd said.

Sabo froze, a smile coming to dance across his lips, “No problem sweetheart,” he said without skipping a beat. He grabbed the stack of paper before setting them on your desk.

You glanced up at him a puzzled look on your face, “Sweetheart?” you hummed, “What with the pet name Sabo?” you quirked a brow

Sabo’s smile grew, “You're the one who started it.” he wished he could snap a picture of the look you had on your face, it was priceless.

You tilted your head to the side. It took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to relize what you had said to him.  You bit your lip before smiling, “I guess your right darling. I did start this,” you purred.

Sabo's face flushed, “Don't use that voice on me, sweetheart,” he leaned down resting his hands on your desk, “and don't start a game you can't win.” his voice had dropped an octave, it was now low and sultry.

“I'm not sure what game you're referring to darling,” you leaned forward laying on the seductive tone even harder, “But if I did I'm sure I'd win.”

Sobo leaned even closer, his eyes were very intense, “Come on sweetheart, you know you'd lose.”

Before the game you two were playing cold get out of hand Kola stepped in. She slapped the back of both of your heads hissing, “Oh cut it out both of you.” she shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Sanji:

You smiled to yourself as you baked. You were in the process of making marbled brownies. You made a dark chocolate batter followed by a pumpkin batter before swirling them together. You popped your creation into the oven before beginning to clean up your mess. It was currently 1:30 a.m., so you knew you had plenty of time to leave it spotless. Sanji would not wake up till 5 am

 You knew that using the kitchen without Sanji's approval could be a dangerous game but you just had to. You would ask Sanji to forgive you later. There was no way you could ask him to use the kitchen not when you were trying to surprise him. You were making him a birthday treat.

You spent the 40 minutes it took for the brownies to bake to clean the kitchen till the floor sparkled. You pulled the pan of brownies out of the oven, they were perfectly baked nice crunchy corners and an ooey gooey center. You were no professional but you could bake like one.

You set the brownies on the counter along with a box of expensive black tea you bought him from a few islands ago. You spent the next ten minutes debating whether or not you'd leave a note. Finally, you gave in to yourself and left a note.  “Happy birthday darling,” you wrote out in your nicest handwriting before singing it in the bottom right corner.

Glancing at the clock you read the time was 2:25 am. You skittered out of the kitchen and headed to bead. You sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening Luffy wouldn't get hungry for a snack before Sanji woke up.

######

Sanji got out of bed at Five a.m. sharp. It may have been his birthday but he would not skip out on his job. He was the ship's cook and he'd be damned if he didn't cook them a proper breakfast. His birthday would be mad special when he saw the look of delight on Nami’s, Robins's, and (y/n)’s faces when they ate the breakfast he made.

He pulled on clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He needed a cup of nice strong black tea to wake him up. He almost slipped into his normal routine till his eyes landed on a pan on the counter. He rushed over to it wondering which member of the crew had left him a dirty dish to deal with.

He stopped in front of the pan when he saw it was full, someone had made brownies he felt confused. He then noticed the box of tea next to it. The tea looked expensive. He picked it up and read over the container. He realized it was a tea that he'd put back after he realized he didn't have the budget for it a few islands ago. His eyes finally landed on the little slip of paper resting on the top of the brownies. 

“Happy Birthday Darling” he read glancing down to the signature. He felt his heart raced as he read (y/n)’s name. When had she had the time to make this? He looked around the kitchen trying to find evidence of her baking but it was spotless. 

He hugged the note to his chest, feeling tears in his eyes. He hadn't expected much for his birthday. This was so much more than what he expected. He decided to not start his prep for breakfast yet. He brewed himself a cup of his new tea, cut himself a brownie, lit a cigarette, and sat down. He could take a bit of time to appreciate the gift.

######

You were pulled out of bed by Nami at  7 a.m. You were honestly in no mood to be awake, that was until you remembered that it was Sanji’s birthday. You got up stretching and yawning.

You and Nami walked to the kitchen together. You couldn't wait to see how Sanji had reacted to your little surprise. Before you entered the kitchen you whispered into Nami’s ear, “Don't forget to tell Sanji happy birthday.”

 She rolled her eyes at you… hard.

Then the two of you walked in. “Good morning Sanji.” You smiled at him.

Sanj slowly and deliberately walked across the kitchen to stand in front of you. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before hugging you. “Thank you, princess,” he whispered kissing your forehead and walking away, A trickle of blood running from his nose.

Marco:

You were sick, you had a fever, your nose was running and you had the chills. You stumbled from the room you shared with Marco to the infirmary. You knew he had to be there since he wasn't in the room with you. You always got needy when you were sick.

You made it there to see Marco working on paperwork. He was slumped over at his desk working like there was no tomorrow. You knew his work was important but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. You just wanted your lover to come cuddle with you and make you feel a little better.

“Darling,” you whimpered as you made it to his desk, “Will you come cuddle with me?” you sounded absolutely pathetic. If your voice alone had not convinced him to come to bed with you then the way you looked forced his hand. You had a pout on your face the comforter of your shared bed wrapped around you. 

Marco looked up from the paperwork he was working on, “You really shouldn't be out of bed.” he said a smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“I don't wanna be alone. Darling, please come to bed with me.” The pout on your face mixed with the flush of fever made you look more than cute.

Marco laughed, you only ever called him darling when you wanted him to do something for you. He wanted to pretend like it wasn’t an effective strategy but couldn't. Whenever you called him darling he was putty in your hands, “OK my little bird I'll come back to bed with you.” he sighed.

Your pout turned into a smile as you heard his words, “Thank you.” Even with your slightly scratchy voice, Marco found your voice soothing.

Marco stood up from his desk and walked over to you. He easily swept you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style, “Let's get you back to bed before you share this cold with someone.” he had no worries about getting sick himself, ever since he ate the phoenix phoenix fruit he was immune to most colds and illnesses.

“If you leave me there I'm gonna follow you.” You leaned into his chest closing your eyes already feeling sleepy.

Marco just shook his head. He knew for a fact you weren't joking. He sighed, for the sake of the crew he’d better stay with you. He tried to be upset about having to stay in bed with you but he couldn't manage it.

Buggy

You laid in bed next to Buggy. Your lover had his back to you as he slept You had had a nightmare and couldn't get yourself to fall asleep. You didn't want to wake him up, but you really wanted him to hold you. You didn't need to talk about the nightmare you just needed to be in his arms. You hesitantly reached a handout and shook his shoulder, “Please wake up darling.” you whispered.

Buggy was usually a heavy sleeper but the fear in your voice made him instantly roll over. With sleep still fogging his senses he asked, “What’s the matter, honey?” he looked at you with tired but concerned eyes.

“I'm sorry to wake you but would you please just hold me?” you asked in a soft and apologetic voice.

Buggy studied your face for a long moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. It didn't take a genius to tell you were upset. The look you had on your face was heartbreaking, “Don't be,” he mumbled, “Do you want to tell me what's wrong now or in the morning.” his voice sounded grumpy but you could tell he truly did want to make you feel better.

“In the morning darling,” you close your eyes already feeling like you could sleep again, “please just go back to sleep.” You kissed his cheek.

He grunted in response holding you tighter. He would sleep now, but in the morning he'd find out what had upset you. You were his flashy little partner and he would not neglect you. It did not take him long to fall back to sleep.

The sound of his heart and the feeling of his chest rising and falling quickly calmed you down. You found it much easier to sleep. You found yourself falling back to sleep rather quickly.

[inks-writing-space]

Serotonin~ Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

~~~~~~~~~

3.7k words: You are a witch getting invited to a party at the Mikaelson compound. There you dance with a certain hybrid who invites you into his study for later…

Warnings: smut, blowjob, kinda enemies to lovers, dirty talk, eastereggs for my austrian friends, Klaus being a horny bastard and a dom, a little kinky but not a lot, and a tension filled dance…

A/N: AHHH I GOT MOTIVATION AGAIN!!! I used to write on Ao3 but immigrated to Tumblr…I started to write again and I am so happy. Might not be my best one shot be I think it’s alright.

~~~~~~~

Your hand was trembling in fear, or like your mother called it, doing funny things. But that was only natural. To say you weren't nervous would be a lie and a bad one as well. You had been a part of the whole Vampire Drama since the day you arrived in this world and the danger, hiding and lying had taken a toll on you. Not that you would have minded. You were a thrill seeker, and a drama queen on top of that. Someone like that appreciates the thrill and the unknown. Still you didn't know if you were able to make tonight. Not in terms of surviving, you were quite skilled at that, but more on a mental level.

The Mikaelson's were hosting a party and you were invited. You hadn't seen them in a long time, and you would have loved to keep it that way. You didn't like Klaus very much, nor Elijah, nor Kol. The only one you got along with was Rebekah, but it wasn't worth putting up with her brother's just for her company. As a witch you had far better things to do. Ignoring an official invitation by the Originals wasn't one. It would be considered impolite and you couldn't afford having them as your enemy. Not after you had seen what they were able to do to witches like you or even vampires, who were there own kind.

This is why you were now standing infront of your mirror taking in the sight of yourself in the dress you had gotten for your eighteenth birthday. This had been a few years ago but it still fitted like back then. It was sparkling red and where it should be touching the ground red roses were knitted into it, a protection spell by your mother. Two gloves were reaching up to your elbows hugging your skin tightly. You had put your hair up in two thin braids on each side, coming together in the middle, while you had curled the rest of the hair and let it fall down. Your red eye shadow was matching the dress, and with a colorless lipgloss and mascara your look was completed.

You sighed one last time, before you grabbed your purse and headed off to the compound.

You were always shocked by how skilled the Mikaelson's were in hosting balls and parties and other stuff, but you knew they never did anything without a reason, and you knew inviting you wasn't a nice gesture. Still you smiled at Elijah who was welcoming the guests. He smiled back as you offered him your hand, he took it and implied a kiss onto your glove.

"It's good to see you, welcome back," he said. Anyone else would have taken that as a compliment, but you knew better.

"Elijah," you say the smile still plastered on your lips not quite reaching your eye's. Elijah noticed that too and raised an eyebrow but didn't comment at it, turning to other guests.

You knew it would probably be the worst decision to get drunk in a place full of vampires who weren't really found of you, but your nerves were getting the better of you and that's how you found yourself with your third drink in your hand already feeling a little lightheaded.

"Have you become an alcoholic in the time you were gone, or are you trying to drown some lovesickness?," a voice behind you asked and you shooted the rest of your drink before turning around looking into a pair of blue-green eyes.

"Niklaus," you said letting the name roll of your lip, "I doubt the only reason to drink are alcoholism and lovesickness."

He smiled, ignoring your comment, "Oh my dear, when did we go back to the formalities? Just call me Klaus," he said and you sighed realizing how much he enjoyed the banter you too had and always have had.

"Do you need a drink in your hand to answer me or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open for the rest of the night?," he asked and you immediately closed your mouth and swallowed down a sarcastic remark, reminding yourself why it was a bad idea to insult an Original.

"Why am I here Klaus?," you finally managed to press out and he sighed offering you his arm.

"I'd love to show you." You shook your head.

"I won't follow you into a creepy basement or some, just tell me." He smiled a little and accepted your wish surprisingly. "Then dance with me. I'd like to explain it to you without unnecessary listeners."

You considered it for a second, glad he had given you the illusion of a choice before taking his hand and letting him guide you onto the dance floor.

The Emperor Waltz started playing and you had to chuckle, "How ironic,“ you commented, Klaus chuckled.

"I swear this wasn't on purpose." You looked at him as you two started to dance. He had his hand on your waist, but didn't touch it as if he tried to keep a respectful distance. You couldn't say the same for you, your hand was holding on for dear life on his shoulder, while he guided you across the parquet your fingers of the other hand interlinked.

"Our family needs extra protection," Klaus said while twirling you around. You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze trying not to look down at your feet.

"The Originals. Why would they need extra protection, I thought you all are immortal and having your own witches," your voice was laced with sarcasm and Klaus chuckled his grip on your hand growing a little tighter. He was now also touching your hip.

"I was told you own a Grimoire with special protection spells," you swallowed the music growing intenser. Where had he heard that? And when was this damn dance finally over?

"It's ten minutes long," Klaus said dryly almost as if he had read your thoughts. You looked at him.

"Why would I give you the book leave alone speak the protection spell."

"Because you don't have that much of a choice," he said dryly, the music lowering a little and his mouth went next to your ear, "Or do you really want to test me, little witch?"

You shook your head, "I can give you the Grimoire, I don't want to call you or your family my enemies." Klaus chuckled, "Intelligent witch. Always on the right side, aren't you?"

The music swelled again and you protested as Klaus sped up your movements, "Oh come on what is up with this Austrian dances?," you asked annoyed.

"Aww, for a witch who has seen the monarchy of Austria-Hungary rise and fall you are awfully bad at dancing to their music," Klaus said amused and you shrugged.

"I wasn't in Europe during that time. I assume you were?" Klaus nodded slightly, "I was trying to find the Doppelgänger or what was left of her."

"Katherine wasn't in Bulgaria at that time. I doubt she stayed anywhere for long," you said yelping as he lifted you for a second.

"And if I knew that before I would have left her country and returned to England sooner." You looked away, trying to concentrate on his steps. You did not want to form a connection with him. He chuckled slightly.

"Eyes on me. That's necessary for a waltz."

"I think you are lying," you mumbled but looked back at him.

"You know that you look amazing in that dress, right?," he asked and you nodded confidently. "I like it as well. Thanks for noticing I guess."

You saved yourself of stepping on his feet and Klaus smiled, "I always notice. Why don't you come to my room in a few hours when this party is over, and we discuss the details of you handing me the Grimoire?" You bit your lip but nodded as the dance was slowly coming to an end. You knew you had to go through this sooner or later and you didn't really mind.

„Perfect,“ he said letting you go again, "Oh and sweetheart?“ You turned to him raising an eyebrow, "If you run I‘ll find you.“

~~~

A few hours and drinks later you finally stepped into Klaus‘s office. To your surprise he was alone without Elijah or any other sibling. He smiled at you, obviously relieved that you came.

"Glad you didn’t try to run,“ he said, his voice low as he stood up and approached you walking like a predator mocking it's prey.

You nodded, your heart racing, although you weren't quite sure why, yes you were scared of him, but the alcohol seemed to make it even worse. „Listen I‘ll give you the Grimoire but after that I never want to hear a word from any original ever again," you said quickly so you didn't have to think about how his curls looked especially good today. At your words Klaus raised an eyebrow, "Really? From none of us?“

"Feel offended?"

A smug smile crossed his face, "Well yea, I'll miss a witch who has a lot of power in my life."

You smiled joylessly, "Well you bet that I won't miss the original who tried to suppress me."

"Aw you are so innocent aren't you?," Klaus asked, his voice laced with sarcasm and a shiver ran down your spine. He chuckled, "I watched you the whole night you know, you are such a brave girl attending a party at the home of the Originals. Everyone kept their distance because they are scared you'll break like a glass doll the second they even try to address you. They all buy your good girl act hook, line and sinker, but not me."

Klaus smiled cruelly, "You are neither innocent nor a good person, are you, doll?"

You swallowed, not quite sure what to answer. Klaus's proximity was making you more nervous than it should, but Klaus was waiting for your response and you wanted to give it to him.

"I never said I was," you finally answered, and he chuckled darkly.

"No, because I know you aren't. I can ignore all the lives you took, and all the sacrifices you made. But do you really think you can hide how much your heart rate increases every time I come near you? I wanted you here to talk about the Grimoire, but now I have someone who seems to enjoy my company a lot," he eyed your form up and down taking in every inch of you, "Or am I wrong?"

You swallowed the alcohol clouding your judgement, your body aching and not wanting to lie anymore. You shook your head, "No, you are not," you whispered your voice hoarse and goosebump started to build on your body.

"Look at you," he smiled, "All I have to do is whisper a few pretty words and you melt right in front of me, isn't that cute?"

The worst part was that his words made everything you felt so much worse. It felt like bubbles were building inside of you, like the champagne had started to have his own personality. But it wasn't the alcohol or the drinks in you, it was a real shiver that went over your spine when Klaus talked to you like that. Ugh you hated vampires.

Klaus took a step closer, his chest now almost pressing against yours, his hand was on your hip in an instant and he turned you around. "Listen closely, doll. I do not like witches," his hand wandered to your neck and a jolt went through your body, "You might be hot, but believe me you are not an exception at all. And if you do even so much as to try and hurt my family...," Klaus squeezed your neck a little more.

"Great," you said, your voice a little shaky, but you tried to regain back your usual composure, "And now we should have sex." You did not know why you said this. Maybe because Klaus was so close you could feel his breath against your neck. Or maybe because his hand was applying the perfect amount of pressure around your throat. Or maybe because his threat was super fucking hot.

Klaus chuckled behind you, his lips gracing over the shell of your ear, pressing a soft kiss to it, before he continued tracing his lips over your neck, his hands wandering up the sides of your body.

"If you insist. I never was one to deny a pretty woman an opportunity to release all of her pent up pressure." His hand moved to the zipper on the back of your dress, and pulled it down, slowly and considerate, "Although I like to tease them from time to time," he chuckled as he felt your uneasiness mixed with anticipation. You didn't turn around as the dress fell to the floor, and his fingers opened your bra sliding it off your shoulders.

At this point your body was already trembling and shaking and the fact you were so excited and ready only amused Klaus more. He clicked softly with his tongue. "I haven't even touched you yet and you are already a trembling mess. I am excited about what else I'll be able to get from you."

He turned you around quickly looking you up and down. You decided to take the initiative, at least for the moment, and kissed him. First you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the Hybrid's face but once he noticed your struggle his hands grabbed your ass and placed you onto his table. His hand grabbed your chin roughly as he broke the kiss, "I am gonna show you exactly what can happen if you decide to behave and work for me," he smirked slightly, "I'd hate to show you the other side."

"Aren't you a softie," you joked and with a growl Klaus had you pressed onto his table. You could feel paper and a few pens beneath you as he lightly slapped you across the face. Not to hurt, but to warn.

You bit your lip not even in the slightest intimidated by his presence anymore, not when the option to be attracted to it was there. You pulled his head down kissing his lips and grinding your hips against him. He pressed them down, preventing you from moving, as he slowly kissed down your neck, stopping to nip and suck on it while he plastered your collarbones with bruising kisses. It hurt, but the pleasure quickly overtook and you had to suppress a moan, remembering that downstairs was a party full of vampires.

Klaus chuckled as his tongue licked over the peak of your breast and swirled around it, "Don't be shy darling," he whispered his voice hoarse, "Let them hear." You moaned as he bit down on your nipple drawing blood from you, and your hands pulled on his hair as he did the same to the other side. He obviously wanted to be in control, but you were having none of that, you quickly pulled his face back up and rolled you two around so you were now straddling him. Having wanted this for so long you were not eager to wait. You quickly disposed of his shirt before unclasping his jeans.

Klaus watched you and chuckled, before he lifted you up without any effort, and sped you both towards the big chair in the corner. He quickly pressed you down to your knees and shook his head almost mockingly as you tried to stand up again. He clicked with his tongue disapprovingly, "Eager little girl, you are lucky I am in a giving mood today, otherwise I'd make you beg for what you want," he chuckled and a shiver ran through your body. He chuckled, "Seems like you'd be a fan of that, wouldn't you?"

The question was rhetoric and you didn't answer. He left out a soft laugh as he saw your dazzled face, his grip in your hair growing stronger pulling you towards his groin, "Do you wish for an instruction handbook, or do you know what to do?," he mocked you his voice growing darker, and his eyes flashed yellow his werewolf side coming out, as you pulled his suit pants down and he kicked them away.

Beneath his boxers you could see his cock getting hard and realized how big he was. You wetted your lips, trying to regain your composure as you steadied yourself on his thighs as you touched him a little through them until you decided to take matters into your own hands and pulled it down.

You slowly licked a path down his length pressing your tongue flat against him, licking up his precum eagerly. You looked up through your lashes meeting his demanding gaze, his grip in your hair got tighter and more demanding. You wanted to tease him a little more but his grip in your hair tightened and you only had time to relax your jaw before he started to fuck your mouth. Klaus growled and moved his hips in sync with your mouth, pushing himself deeper. His cock pushed deep into your throat and you gagged, but that only made him twitch. You looked up at him and noticed him locking eyes with you as he sped up his movements.

Tears escaped your eyes, at the rough and brutal pace he had set. He wanted to pull off, but you knew it only needed a little bit more effort, so you grabbed his balls with your hand, massaging them while you sucked on his cock. You felt him shudder and his cock twitch as he pulled out and released himself, his cum spilling over your body. You looked down at yourself and Klaus growled satisfied. Your face was stained with the mascara and his thumb stroked over your cheekbone, almost tender for a second. He smiled down at you, awaiting your next move.

"You are so pretty, all painted in my cum," he mumbled, patting his lap. You didn't even hesitate a second, taking off your remaining panties before you climbed into his lap. He still wore a shirt and after you relished a little in the fact that you were completely naked, while he was clothed, you pulled his shirt over his head tossing it aside, with a smirk. You bit your lip admiring his biceps, and trailing your fingers down his chest. Klaus groaned approvingly as you started to kiss his neck, determined to leave a Hickey.

He chuckled and pulled away slightly, "It will heal in a second," he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, "I do love to try to make it last, tho," you whispered into his ear and moved slowly against his leg.

He groaned slightly, the sound of your wet pussy sliding against this naked leg obscene, and the fact he was enjoying it so much only made you want him more.

"There is one thing you don't know about me," Klaus whispered back, "I am not really a patient man," he said before he grabbed your hips and pulled you up lowering you on his cock without hesitation, "Now ride me properly, before I show you what happens to teasing little whores."

You slapped him slightly, before you started to grind against him, "Don't call me whore," you hissed and he chuckled gripping your ass helping you to find a pace.

"Oh but why not, love?," he asked innocently, "Do you think every girl just gives themselves to someone like me?"

"I would say probably more than you could count," you said and sped your pace up a little, your thighs were burning, but you were determined to show no weakness, having him like this felt powerful. You wrapped your arms around his throat, "Or am I wrong?," you whispered and he grinned suggestively.

"No, you certainly aren't wrong with your assumption, but it still doesn't change a thing," he said and smacked your ass lightly to get you to grind even faster. You felt tired, but decided to not stop, planting his arms on his shoulders trying to move faster.

"Yes, that's right, fuck yourself on my cock," he groaned as you lifted yourself up and down quicker. One hand stayed up on your waist steading you, the other was wrapped around your throat in an instant cutting off your airwave. You groaned slightly, the adrenaline that the oxygen deprivation sent through you was delicious and made you want to stay in this position forever.

Klaus growled as your pussy tightened around him, "Please," you whispered your limbs burning, not able to keep up the pace. He pressed his hips upwards and took your waist lifting you up and down with no effort, as if you were the lightest thing in the world.

"Cum," he commanded and his demanding tone was everything you needed to be sent over the edge. You fell forward, your forehead hitting his shoulder as your high crashed over you. Klaus chuckled and held onto you stroking your back soothingly, as you came down from your high. He trusted upwards into you a little bit more before he came as well, spilling himself inside you.

"Aww, is my little witch tired?," he asked with a smile as he looked at you. He turned you around pulling out, his gaze roaming over you hungry. You were completely spend, his cum from earlier still sticky on you, he smiled kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. You whimpered looking up from under him and he ran his fingers through your hair, suddenly pulling it back. His grip was rough and his eyes golden, as he sank his fangs into your neck.

You groaned and tried to relax as he drew blood from you, but the pleasure and pain were battling and you couldn't help but grab his head, tugging at his hair. You weren't even sure what you were trying to do, if you wanted him to bite harder or let go. Maybe a mixture of both. He chuckled letting go of you, and you looked him in the eyes as you traced the dark veins under his eyes.

He licked up the remaining blood and you couldn't help but shiver under his tongue. "Come on love," he growled into your ear, "Let's get you cleaned up and continue this little game."

[revelboo]

While theyre all connected, the idw are in different time placements. Current ironhide hasn’t watch the video yet. also sparkling as a nickname and the way he treats his ward is so, hnng. Something about an older man treating his younger partner as a kid even when theyre very much, theyre an adult. I eat that dynamic so much. Optimus gives me the vibes with bluestreak, maybeee sideswipe, to sparkbond just because of love (op & blue) and taboo (sideswipe for the sparkplay and thrill, rip sunny). The latter is giving major oops sparked the human vibes, but honestly the number one likely to spark up their human is prowl. Jazz is 50/50 depends on his state of mind and is content with just having his human next to him even if he wants more and more. Wheeljack is slow burn and rip to his human. If this idw is unicorn and the millitary a thing or that its own thing?

The joints are ridiculously stiff and brittle on the gold editions. Pretty, but trying to pose them feels like they might break

Explanations/ Random Headcanons

The message has gone out at this point, but Prowl and Ironhide haven’t watched it yet. Ironhide couldn’t care less about any lies Megatron tells. Prowl will watch it because it’s intel and then be horrified. As far as he knows, he’s the only one that’s gotten ‘deviant’ with a human and like the rest of the Autobots, he assumes the worst with the Decepticon kept humans. Wheeljack is too awkward to really make a move with his. Blue’s too shy. Jazz definitely isn’t shy. Sideswipe… yeah, he’s going to be a worse gremlin now that he knows what’s possible. For Ironhide, he’s older and is going to treat reader more like a kid until he starts getting to know them. And probably after that, too.

For sparking, they have to combine interfacing and sparkplay at the same time between a fully bonded pair (this is just my take for the sake of my fics), so as long they’re experimenting with one or the other or the bond isn’t complete, they’re safe. The fact that it’s taboo, though makes it more enticing since they don’t realize there can be repercussions. Assuming, like Star and TFP Megs did, that there’s nothing to spark bond to, so they can just have the euphoric feel of someone touching their spark without any consequences.

What’s I’m calling ‘IDW’ is inspired by the characterizations from the comics since they got a bit more fleshed out, but also the G1 cartoons. It’s an AU I’m creating using bits of each. Pretty much both sides had crashed on earth a long time ago, but only recently came online and started scouting for resources. They’re aware of each other on Earth, but aside from a few small skirmishes, the war’s not in full swing again yet as both sides try to hoard energon and materials they’ll need once the fighting really starts. The military hasn’t discovered them yet since they just snatch any humans that see them and otherwise are laying low. Haven’t decided about Unicron, yet.

I do take liberties with timelines. In the pieces I’m lumping under ‘Lost Light’ on the Masterlist. Those fics all happen around the same time, but might be characters from IDW’s MTMTE or RID arcs with liberties taken. Flywheels was already gone from the Scavengers. Tarn and the DJD aren’t aware that the war is over yet or that Megatron has defected. Sunder is on the Lost Light already after being captured for his murders, but Pharma is still harvesting T-cogs for Tarn and hasn’t reencountered Ratchet or unleashed his rust plague out of desperation. Ambulon and First Aid are on Delphi with him in that fic and unaware of his activities.

I also tend to sidestep some events. Breakdown needs to live for what I have planned for him and Knockout.

But yeah, this is just the nonsense way my brain works, so don’t take anything too seriously since I just write for fun

[happybunny999]

A complete arsenal magical girl in Gotham

Part 1

(Fem Reader is a magical girl and was born in Gotham and fight monsters and collect relics from them try’s to avoid the batfam and the villains but what will happen when they notice you and start to become obsessed?)

Gotham, filled with dangerous, evil,crazy,scary and villainous people which always scared me to talk to other people due to my timid nature and with defeatist attacking I have to push pass my meek and timid mind as I try to make Gotham a little bit safer for my mother, father, and friends with my powers

Let me explain. My Mother is a meta human with the ability to control everything and has immense magic (tho not as strong as mine ) and my father is a assassin (but he is not with the league of assassins clan but from another similar) with impressive ability of flexibility, speed, agility, and weaponry. But they are kind and humble people with strong morals and raised my siblings and I to be good people in a city full of a bad people so we could make a difference one day

I have a sister and brother but they are away at college and took after our dad with have jet black hair and black eyes and an being assassins and have amazing agility and endurance as well as high level of strength

While I took after my mother with being born with pink hair and pink eyes (that turn rose gold when I use my full power) and a power that my mother called “complete arsenal” and OP magic and that she told me that I have also have the power of a “magical girl”. She even gave me a pretty and pink device that I use to activate my transformation and powers and to stay under the radar from the batfam and supervillains of Gotham since the one and only Batman forbidden any meta human to come to Gotham so I was taught to hide my powers and identify from the rest of Gotham for my own and their safety as I work in plain site at night and day fighting childish monsters that due pose a threat to people and I have stop them with magic. I even have enmities from the darkness that try and defeat me but fail every time(but there were times that they did come close).

And things are about to get out of hand when I saved a supervillain from a defeatist and they start to tell their gang about me as well as others too

-

As I walk home from school my hoodie covering my hair and face as I thought about my 18th birthday coming up tomorrow as a huge smile came across my face because it will be at the Gotham carnival fair

As I made my way along the worn down streets and pass people I felt sad seeing how much Gotham is gotten even more grim in the morning when I was a little kid but is much dangerous at night with the many villains and vigilantes of Gotham and since I couldn’t do much when I was just a kid but now that I’m older and almost an adult I can help my people now but must remember to stay hidden to the world.

And as I walked down another path I heard a scream from an alleyway close to me and sensed a monster corrupted aura. I wasted no time in going behind a building and making sure no one is looking a you use your magical device and call out your hero name as sparkles start swarming around me.

“Precure magical time!” And as I say that the sparkles grow around me as I transform into my magical uniform ( a fusion of cure heart, cure lovely, and cure happy outfit) and my pink hair and eyes become more natural, long and vibrant and as my transformation ends I quickly take off down the alleyway and see the monster called defeatist and the person who was trying to fight it was non-other then Harley Quinn who was frantically swinging her black and red bat/Hammer at the defeatist as it try’s to attack her

I Quickly running behind the defeatist and fly kicking it in the face making it hit the side of the wall with immense force as I landed on the ground with elegant and grace as Harley looked on in awe and with a slight blush on her face at the sight of a beautiful face in front of her

And as the defeatist tried to get up I called out my “precure pinky attack” as pink glow shot out my hands and onto the defeatist and making it vanish and all that’s left in it’s place is a pink relic to which I pick up and put in my magical bag

I turn around to check on Harley and tried to ask if she is ok but when I tried to ask she pulls me in to a huge that shocks me a little bit but I did hug her back and ask in a small and shy tone if she was ok and if she is hurt anywhere

After talking to her and telling her my magical name was “cure Pinckney” and after making sure that she was okay I quickly used my powers to fly away and to my house since I was running late and didn’t want to be out in the open for too long since it made me nervous

Unknowingly to me this would start up something big and dangerous within Gotham with vigilantes and villains because Harley would go back to her puddin and tell him about the girl(woman) who had saved her and how powerful and beautiful she is

-

As I finally made my way home and landed on the front door of my parents and quickly changed back into regular clothes as my hoodie and mask covered my face so no one would be able to see me

Has I slowly opened the door to the house it was quite since it was already late at night because I didn’t use my super flight so it took me longer to get home

I walked up to my room past by brother and sister old room and past my parents bedroom and closed the door behind me and after some time to change and get ready for my birthday tomorrow I couldn’t help but think of the amazing day and people as I drift off to sleep









[solar4seekstron]

A Sparkling?!

Tf1!Elita, D-16, B-127, Orion Pax, Sentinel Prime with Sparkling!Reader

Content: SFW, Just silly situations with the bots with a baby you.

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

TW/Tags: Wholesomeness, B is a silly bean (He was my favorite part to write ngl), Elita is a mom/Auntie, Y’all know D and OP will be the best dads, Sentinel I doubt will do anything with a sparkling and his is defiently the funniest.

One day while Orion was just running from the cops in the city he passes an alleyway of some of the higher ups apartments.

When he was able to get to a good hiding spot, he took a moment to breath.

Until he hears and sees a dumpster moving around. He came up to it with caution as he slowly opens a dumpster. And when he peaks over it only to be confused.

“What?”

He didn’t expect to see a little sparkling. You.

You had bright yellow optics and blue paint. You were gently nibbling at you cervo as you looked up at him as he picked you up. He’d hold you with his cervos holding you like anyone would with a baby.

”What’s a sparkling doing in a dumpster. And a miner sparkling no less.” He looked in the dumpster for a note or anything. But you giggled and reached for him as he looked back at you. You had the biggest smile as your optics shine brightly as you continue to try to eat your cervo.

His optics soon tearing up. Holy Primus you are adorable!!!

And so he does tthe only most responsible thing a bot can do in his situation. He brought you home and said you were Ds and the mother died in the last accident at the other mining area or something. Nobody really questioned it.

D though was not too happy to pretend to be a sire.

”YOU DID WHAT?!” Orion has you facing him so your back is turned to D. Who didn’t give you much mind at the moment. “Come on D just give them a chance. They have yellow optics and they’re really good.”

”I could care less if some sparkling you found in the dumpster is cuuuuuu….” He couldn’t finish as Orion turned you around.

You reaching both cervos to his helm as your had your usual large grin as you got excited when seeing him. The miners around you in the quarters not paying much mind.

D just stared at you as you continue to giggle as move your arms around in Orions cervos.

He soon takes you from Orion and instantly starts baby talking to you as you kept giggling. At least that’s until Elita came to the three of you. “Orion Pax! D-16! You two better explain to me why you both have a…”

She looked at you as D still had you in his arms. Your cervos gripping his larger ones as you looked up at her. You four are silent for a moment. D and Orion looking at each other unsure as Elita just looks at you with wide optics. As you do a frog blink she was instantly smitten.

”Gimme them!” D was too scared to not let her. She took you into her arms and held you up in front of her. “You shall be my successor! Elita…um Two!!”

You’d just stare at her. Then you make a baby sound that sounds like an E making her optics grow bigger like as if she’s a proud parent. Which she probably is now. So she instantly started scolding the boys after as you tried to reach for D and Orion.

”And-……..Guess you two are dads now-“

If B-127 met you first-

B was working. Watching trash go to the fire slowly. All of a sudden he hears from the dumpster a sparkling go “weeeeeeeee”. You’d landed on top of some trash.

You giggled as you sat up and reached for B. He just watched you.

His frame still as his helm moved watching you. As you got closer to the fire.

“………..”

”………………”

”………………………………….”

”Ba”

“HOLY SPARK YOU’RE REAL!!!!!!” He was fast to pick you up as you giggled and reach for him. Luckily they gave him energon. It just means he’ll eat less then half of what he usually does.

But it was all worth it in order to watch you grow.

If Sentinel found you-

You just sat there as Sentinel looked at you. Being held by a officer. You just stared at him with wide optics.

”……………..”

”………………”

”Eh..Eh Ew.” You said.

I hope you guys enjoyed this I know I did. I’m slowly getting more use to writing shorts. Although I will still get pretty carried away at times.

As always a repost is appreciated and I hope you guys enjoy my other works and see you all in the next one. Hope you all are having a good rest of your day!