#then you need to communicate that to your partner

[lotusbxtch]

A New Year's Distraction

Pairing: Javier Peña + f!Reader Word Count: 3.3k Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Summary: Javi doesn't realize that you've got a surprise waiting for him at home.

Tags/warnings: PWP let’s be real lol, secret established relationship, foul language, (1) suggestive note, mentions of food and alcohol, foodplay, consumption of alcohol, mention of masturbation, brief masturbation, brief sex toy usage, spitting, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up people), creampie, (1) pussy slap, Spanish nicknames and phrases, (1) use of the word 'slut' (but Reader is into it)

a/n: I saw these GIFs of Javi and @for-a-longlongtime convinced me to turn my little drabble thought into a fic. Is it after New Year’s Eve? Yes. Shhh. Pretend it’s not, for me. So here it is, unbeta’d and minimally edited. This is my first Javi P fic, so pls be gentle but also let me know how I did with writing him! Happy belated New Year to this little Tumblr community - I love you so much! (Banners by @saradika-graphics, GIF by @pedrohub) 

MAIN MASTERLIST

In any other year, you’d have been out on the town, dancing with friends and drinking cocktails while men tried to woo you for a midnight kiss. You’d drink too much, wake up hungover, and potentially with a stranger in bed.

This year, however, New Year’s Eve in Colombia looked markedly different.

Since you’d started at the embassy at the beginning of the year, helping the US track and take down narcos, the work never stopped. (Drug trafficking, it seemed, did not take note of the holidays.) You’d thrown yourself into the work, desperate to prove that you belonged here - which was already an uphill battle given your gender. Women have to work twice as hard as men in general, but here? Even more so. The machismo patriarchy wanted Columbia to chew you up, spit you out, and send you packing. You wanted - needed - this job to work out, so letting the place eat you alive wasn’t an option.

On this New Year’s Eve, partying with friends was out of the question. Recent intelligence reports needed to be analyzed, and it fell onto you this time. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you continue to leaf through and take notes in the margins. The office was relatively quiet, a couple of your coworkers waving bye to you on their way out to the bars. You check the clock - 7pm - and stretch, deciding enough is enough.

Earlier in the week, you’d planned out a little surprise for Javier Peña – DEA agent extraordinaire and the man you’d been dating secretly for months – at his place for the evening, both of you preferring to stay in this year. Plus, there was really only one man you wanted to kiss at midnight. Smiling, you grab a manila folder. You tear a page out of your field notebook, scribble a note, then stick it into the folder. Getting up from your desk, you gather your things and walk across the building to the DEA office, a mischievous smile on your lips.

In a nearly-dark conference room, Javi stands hands akimbo, poring over the various maps, satellite images, and transcriptions of tapped conversations with other members of the team. They’d been trying to make a decision with the latest batch of intelligence gathering, but as per usual, egos began to butt heads and office politics started to come into play. He runs his hand through his dark curls, frustration etched into his features as he listens numbly to the arguing going on around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you round the corner, spotting him and smiling. You’re carrying your purse and a manila folder with what he’s assuming is more intelligence reports for him to look over. Javi struggles to school his features, tamping down the desire to smirk at your arrival. Steve, of course, notices his partner’s distraction, and puts two and two together when you knock on the conference room door.

“Agent Peña?” you chirp, popping your head into the room. 

He nods at you, holding his hand out for the folder. You place it in his hand, all business. “Thanks. Are these the –” Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve already turned around, striding out the door and towards the exit. He’s a bit confused, staring at the folder in his hands.

Steve gives him a look, but continues discussing the current leads with the rest of the team. Javi places the folder to the side of the table, giving it little thought.

Two hours later, Javi is done.

The discussions had turned into arguments, and the conversation was going nowhere. An ashtray sits in the middle of the table, a smoldering cigarette in front of Javi. All he wants to do is to go home, take off his shoes and belt (god, how he hates wearing belts), loosen up his tie, and have a stiff drink.

Suddenly, he remembers your folder. Bored with the current conversation, he picks it up to skim the reports you gave him. However, the folder is far lighter than he’d expect for reports. Puzzled, he opens it to find a torn piece of lined notebook paper with a note scrawled in your handwriting. 

Going to your place for New Year’s Eve. Steaks, champagne, and me naked in your bed. See you later xoxo

Javi’s brain feels like it stops working.

He reads the note another two, three times, and then bends over, resting his forearms on the edge of the table, staring blankly ahead as the blood rushes from his head to his groin. The chatter around him fades. Unconsciously, he brings his fist to his lips as flashes of lewd images flood his mind - how you look when you strip for him; you on your hands and knees with your ass in the air, your pussy shining with slick; you on your back, thighs spread wide around his torso, eyes closed and mouth open as you moan and clench his length inside of you.

Fuck it.

His eyes flit around the room, and he realizes he just does not care about any of this right now. Javi reaches for the stumpy cigarette, taking a single drag, then drops it unceremoniously back into the ashtray, grabbing his things and leaving the table without a word.

“Peña!” Steve calls after him. “What the fuck?” But Javi doesn’t hear him, because he’s already out the door, on his way to where the throbbing between his thighs is taking him – straight to you.

You’d (correctly) assumed that Javi would be stuck in that god-awful meeting for at least another hour and a half, so you’d allowed yourself a leisurely unwinding from the day. After grabbing the steaks and champagne stashed at your apartment, you let yourself into Javi’s place, overnight bag in tow. You’d lit some candles in the living room, pre-seasoned the steaks, and then popped the cork on one of the champagne bottles. Pouring yourself a glass, you took a long soak in his tub, luxuriating in waters dosed with bath oils your mother sent you as a Christmas present. Now, soft skin toweled dry and heavenly scented, you lay bare in Javi’s bed, just as you said you would. 

Your vibrating wand hums as you tease your folds with your thighs spread, your other hand caressing the curves of your breasts. A soft moan leaves your mouth, lips parted. You smile and giggle to yourself at the thought of how worked up you likely got Javi from your little note. You knew the steaks and champagne weren’t a guarantee that he’d leave the office and come home, but you knew that the second you mentioned being naked in bed for him, he’d leap up and take off running like the Road Runner in Looney Toons. 

The door slams open and closed, and your smile turns into a predatory smirk. Showtime.

You press the wand firmer to your clit, eliciting more moans, and Javi is drawn to the bedroom like a sailor to a siren’s song. You hear his shoes being toed off, then the swish of his jacket being thrown onto the couch. His briefcase and keys hit the countertop, and then his purposeful strides get louder as he stalks down the hall to you. His broad frame appears in the doorway, shoulders taut against his dove grey button-up, his striped tie loosened and his hands occupied with rolling up his sleeves. Despite the dark color of his slacks, you can see his cock already straining at the crotch. His eyes flash onyx in the dim lighting.

“Starting without me, muñequita?” he rumbles, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. You spread yourself wider and toss the wand to the side, letting him see your shining center, slick and ready for him.

“No, baby,” you hum, propping yourself onto your elbows and pushing your bare tits out. “Just keeping myself soaked for you, just like you like me. A good girl.” 

Javi groans audibly at your display and words, an animal barely keeping it together. “What you are is a menace,” he growls, raking a hand through his hair. “Floating on by like a damn dream, waltzing out of the office without so much as a hint at the dirty fucking note you left me in that folder. I didn’t open it for two hours. And when I did, I got so hard I had to leave.”

“Then let me take care of my hard-working, handsome, brave DEA agent,” you purr. “The steaks are ready to cook, but knowing you, you want your dessert first.”

“Actually,” Javi smirks, “I’d really like some festive bubbles.” You go to reach for the second glass, yours having been refilled shortly before Javi came home, but he stops you.

“No, bebita. Lay back. I don’t need a glass for this.”

Javier grabs the champagne bottle, then slots himself over your body. You widen your legs to accommodate him, pressing your hips to meet his. 

Bracketing your head with his forearms, he commands gently, “Open.”

You open your lips obediently. He takes a swig from the bottle, then spits the bubbly wine right into your mouth. Moaning, you swallow, wetness pooling between your thighs. His gaze never leaves yours.

“Dirty girl, you liked that,” Javi teases, his eyes glittering with mischief. 

“Tastes better like that,” you husk, then pull him in for a deep kiss. His plush lips move against yours, tongues dancing, feeding off each other. His kisses intoxicate your mind.

Breaking the kiss, Javi continues to run his lips down your body, stopping briefly to suck each of your nipples into his mouth, making you shudder and gasp. He trails his tongue across your belly, gently biting your mound. Once there, he sits back on his haunches, then smiles wickedly.

“I know how to make it taste even better,” he teases. Slowly, he trickles the fizzy alcohol in a thin stream over your exposed center. A gasp is forced out of your throat, quickly turning into a moan when Javi laps it off your folds. 

Another pour, more licking from him. Your moans turn into whines, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, Javi, that’s so hot,” you whimper. At your admission, he surges back to your face to kiss you passionately, your own tart sweetness and the headiness of the champagne swirling on your tongue from his. All too soon, he’s parting from your lips. You grumble, until he’s ducked back down between your thighs, your swollen clit gently secured between his lips before he starts to suck. His palm presses on your belly, right above your pubic bone.

“Oh god,” you whine, your release rising in your bones like the bubbles in the long-forgotten glass flute beside the bed. Javi moans into your pussy, slipping two of his fingers into your core.

“You sound so pretty, nenita,” he murmurs. “Are you gonna come on my face for me?”

“Yes, papí, fuck,” you moan, hips grinding against his talented mouth.

He curls his fingers upwards, stroking that spongy spot on your walls. “Dámelo,” your boyfriend commands, then sucks your clit hard.

You shatter for him with a stuttered scream, your release spurting on his chin and mouth. He holds down your hips as you ride out the waves of ecstasy.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growls. When you relax, Javi slips his fingers from you, sucking your juices off of them. Blissed out, you watch as he begins to strip off his clothes, his golden skin and taut muscles coming into view. Now completely bare, he climbs back over you, his face still glistening from the evidence of your orgasm. He spreads your thighs apart, grabbing his dick in his hand and slapping your drenched pussy with his mushroom tip. The sounds of your wetness are obscene. 

Javi smirks like the devil himself. “Been dreaming about this sloppy little cunt all day,” he rumbles, rubbing your swollen clit teasingly with his cockhead. “Thinking about all the ways I wanted to ruin you. Not being able to touch you all day was torture.”

You snort a laugh breathily. “If only the cartels knew all it took to break you was to deny you of pussy for a few hours. You’d be singing government secrets.” 

Javi’s eyes darken for a moment, and then he slaps your slick folds, making you cry out pain and then pleasure. 

“Watch your fucking mouth, princesa,” he warns, “or I’ll fill it up so you can’t say shit to me.”

Your arousal flares. Javi knows just how rough you can take it from him.

“I’m sorry, papi,” you moan. “I promise I’ll be good for you.”

He smirks. “I know you will.” Without warning, he slides home, sheathing himself inside you with a single, devastating stroke. You both cry out brokenly at the intense sensations, his cock always a stretch for you. All you can see, feel, think about, is him.

Javi stays buried inside you, laying still while you adjust. Your velvet heat wraps around him wholly and overwhelms his senses. He has to take deep breaths to keep him from falling off the edge of his ecstasy. 

“God, you take me so well,” he grits out. “Pussy feels like heaven.” You can only breathe a whine in response, soft lips popped open as you struggle to relax your walls around him. Usually he works you open slowly, but it seems like your bratty comment triggered the feral side in him.

“Oh, pobrecita,” Javi mocks, tutting as you squirm underneath him. “Did my cock already render you speechless?” When you let out another whimper, he smirks darkly. He grips your chin between his fingers firmly, bringing your focus to his devastatingly handsome face. “C‘mon, pretty baby. Use your words.”

Your lips close and throat bobs, attempting to obey. “You feel so big in me, papí,” you rasp out, voice fucked. 

Javi chuckles. “Tight little pussy is grippin’ me so well, honey,” he teases, sending a pulse scuttling through your core. “Wanna stay buried inside you all the time.”

Soon, the sting of his cock melts into pleasure thrumming along your nerves. Your pussy weeps more slick. “Please, Javi,” you beg, feeling the arousal spread like fire through your veins. You desperately need him to move.

“When you beg so pretty, I guess I have to,” Javi smirks. He slowly pulls out, lighting up every nerve ending in your channel, then thrusts back into you quick and deep. A loud moan shakes loose from your lungs, and Javi grinds his molars when he feels you tighten around him in response. He continues this way, every devastating minute melting you further into the mattress. You scrabble your hands around his shoulders for purchase, arching your back into him when he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. Legs wrap around his waist, your cunt sucking him in as deeply as it can. Javi’s eyes scan your body, cataloguing every whimper, twitch, and breath to bring you to climax as fast as possible. 

“Is this what you needed, bebita?” Javi asks. You clench around him and nod rapidly, breath coming in pants. “‘Cause it sure as hell is what I needed.”

He bares his teeth as he picks up his pace, stroking your messy pussy harder and deeper. “You’re so fucking wet for me. I wanna feel your little pussy pulse around me when you come,” he groans, and you let out a reedy whine in response. He grabs your hips and tilts them, changing the angle he’s fucking into you, and your entire body lights up. 

“That’s it, baby, c’mon,” Javi begs, “Come for me. Show me how hard I can make you come.”

When he asks so nicely like that, your body simply can’t refuse.

The waves of pleasure gather behind your belly button and explode outwards as you scream his name, your legs shaking and cunt fluttering around him. Javi moans at your release, biting into your shoulder to keep from coming. When you begin to relax, he pulls out of you, a protesting groan dribbling out from your lips until he flips you back on all fours.

Javi lifts your hips in the air, your chest pressed to the mattress, and lines himself up at your entrance. “I’m not done with you yet,” he informs you, smoke edging his voice, and he sinks into you again. You let out a surprised but thrilled moan, as this is your favorite way to take him.

“My pretty slut wants to be railed from behind, hmm?” Javi teases, his movements fluid and confident. Sliding his hand down your arm, he sucks two of your fingers into his mouth before placing your hand between your thighs, right where he’s splitting you open. 

“Rub that pretty little clit for me, sweetheart,” he orders, and all you can do is moan and comply. Javi grabs your hips, his blunt nails leaving tiny crescent moon indentations in your supple skin, reminders of how insatiable he is for your body. Small droplets of his sweat scatter across your back. Your drenched folds squelch lewdly as he plays your body like the finest orchestral instrument, knowing exactly how to elicit those gorgeous sounds from your lips. Your fingers swirl around your swollen pearl, spiraling you higher and higher towards your orgasm. You love feeling him like this, as if he’s in your throat, filling every single empty space within your body.

Your thighs begin to twitch and shake, and Javi knows you’re close. He braces against your shoulder for leverage with one hand, and lands a hard slap across your backside with his other while he bounces your body against his cock. Your moans have turned to wails, a desperate whining edge to them. 

“Fuck, papi,” you keen, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeeee.” Javi ratchets his movements up another level, pounding into you earnestly, his own release coiling in the pit of his stomach. “Fuck this cunt, it’s yours,” you beg, and your filthy mouth in the throes of passion may send him to an early grave, albeit with his dick wet.

“You gonna come again for papi?” he asks rhetorically. Your head bobs vigorously, your fingers a blur between your thighs. He’s barely holding on, seconds from exploding.

A stream of pornographic whimpers leaves your lips. As they get higher in pitch, your cunt squeezes his shaft tighter, and now he’s moaning unabashedly. 

“Oh, fuck, Javi, I’m coming” you manage to moan before you scream into the bedding, shattering, pussy clamping down on his cock. He whimpers loudly, burying himself, and unloads rope after rope of thick cum inside of you. Shaking with each twitch of his cock, he leans forward to blanket you with his body. Javi gently rolls the both of you to your sides, remaining inside of you. The air settles with only your and Javi’s heavy breathing echoing in the room.

Once you catch your breath, a smile breaks out across your face. You press kisses to Javi’s forearms. “This is the best New Year’s Eve celebration I’ve had yet,” you muse, leaning your head back against Javi’s strong chest.

He huffs a laugh, then pulls out of you gently with a quiet groan, the warm trickle of his cum from your wrecked pussy following shortly. He turns you to face him, his hands framing your jawline, and he softly sponges his lips to your forehead, running his nose down the bridge of yours before kissing it. “Night’s not over yet, nena. I believe you mentioned some steaks?” 

Giggling, you nod affirmatively. “Great,” he continues, kissing along your neck, “because once we’re done enjoying those, I’m gonna enjoy you all over again. It is my full intention to have you literally coming straight through the new year.” 

The answering grin on your lips is so bright, it could rival the Times Square New Year’s Ball drop. “Well, happy new year to us, then, Agent Peña.”

Tagging those who I thought might like some Javi P smut:

@mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @sin-djarin @joelmillerisapunk @arcanefox207

@mermaidgirl30 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry

@yxtkiwiyxt @almostfoxglove @almostempty @swankyorange @alltheglitterandtheroar

@yorksgirl @pedropeach @pedrospatch @jolapeno @max--phillips

@baronessvonglitter @puddles221b @evolnoomym @slimybeth69 @perotovar

@penvisions @indiegirlunited @eupheme @heareball @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[flwrkid14]

The Curious Case of Phantom

It starts during patrol.

At first, Tim barely notices the small, white blur with eerily green eyes trailing behind him as he scales rooftops and darts through alleys. Gotham’s stray population is no joke, so he figures it’s just another cat—until it keeps happening. Night after night, the same cat follows him like a shadow, no matter how far or fast he goes.

He tries to lose it, but somehow, it always finds him. And soon, he realizes the cat isn’t just following him—it’s helping.

One night, the cat leaps from a rooftop and claws a mugger who’s sneaking up behind Tim. Another night, it leads him to a drug deal in progress, meowing insistently until Tim follows.

It’s eerie how good the cat is at finding trouble, but it’s also undeniably useful. Tim names it Phantom, mostly because of its hauntingly white fur and the way it moves like a ghost in the shadows.

He’s not ready to admit that he’s started looking for the cat on patrol, waiting for it to show up like some unofficial partner.

———

Then Phantom starts showing up at Tim’s apartment.

The first time, Tim finds the cat sitting on his fire escape, staring at him through the window. He brushes it off as coincidence. But then it happens again. And again. Every night, Phantom is there, waiting.

Tim tries ignoring it, but Phantom doesn’t scratch or meow—it just stares, patient and expectant.

Eventually, Tim gives in and lets the cat inside. Phantom struts in like he owns the place, jumps onto Tim’s desk, and curls up right on top of his notes.

“Guess I have a cat now,” Tim mutters, scratching behind Phantom’s ears.

Phantom quickly becomes a fixture in Tim’s life.

He lounges on Tim’s lap during stakeouts, naps on his keyboard, and somehow always knows when Tim needs a break. Phantom is weird, though. His movements are too precise, too deliberate, and sometimes Tim swears he’s glowing faintly green.

But Tim doesn’t question it too much. Phantom’s good company, and Gotham’s seen stranger things.

———

The family eventually notices Phantom soon enough.

“You adopted a stray?” Dick asks when he visits Tim’s apartment. He crouches to pet the cat, who immediately swats at him. Dick recoils, laughing. “Okay, wow. Even the cat thinks I’m beneath him.”

“He doesn't seem to like new people,” Tim mutters, watching Phantom hop onto his desk like nothing happened.

Steph is obsessed. “He’s adorable! Can I post him?” she asks, taking a hundred photos of Phantom lounging on Tim’s keyboard. “He’s like your spooky little sidekick.”

Jason, on the other hand, has a reaction.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” Jason yells the first time he sees Phantom.

Tim frowns. “It’s a cat, Jason. Calm down.”

“No, it’s not! That thing is glowing green, Tim! It’s haunted or radioactive or something!”

Tim rolls his eyes. “He’s just a cat.”

Jason isn’t convinced, but Phantom doesn’t care. He just glares at Jason like he’s the dumbest person in the room and stretches out on the couch.

Damian, though, reacts... differently.

The second Damian sees Phantom, he freezes.

“This cat,” Damian says, voice trembling with reverence, “is extraordinary.”

Tim barely has time to blink before Damian has his hands full of silk-lined cat beds, imported food, and custom collars engraved with “Phantom, the Great.”

“He’s my cat, Damian,” Tim says when Damian tries to scold him for not brushing Phantom’s fur properly.

“You are unworthy of him, Drake,” Damian snaps. “This is a creature of unmatched perfection, and you’re treating him like a common house pet.”

Tim sighs, but Phantom climbs into his lap and starts purring loudly. Damian looks betrayed.

“Traitor,” Damian mutters at Phantom, who clearly doesn’t care.

———

But Phantom isn’t just a cat.

Danny Fenton—currently stuck in his ghost form as a cat and unable to shift back—has been following Tim for weeks, hoping the smartest Bat could help him figure out how to fix his situation.

At first, it was desperation. Danny didn’t know how to communicate with Tim or explain what had happened to him. But then Tim let him in, fed him, and started treating him with such quiet care that Danny couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth.

Phantom became his escape. For the first time in ages, Danny didn’t have to fight or run or worry about anyone discovering his secrets. He could just... exist.

And, okay, messing with the family was a bonus.

Danny knew he couldn’t stay a cat forever, but with the way Tim scratched behind his ears and muttered soft compliments, he thought, Maybe I can stay like this for a little longer.

Or maybe a lot longer. Phantom had a good thing going, after all.

[bitchface24-7]

V, you gotta be lacing your fics with something because I literally dreamed Jayvik last night… I’m fighting my demons on if I should write this but regardless I’m gonna throw the idea out there. Because who better than The Jayvik messiah to bless my feed once more.

  Waitress!Reader, who is a new hire at a local bistro. Quickly becoming Jayce and Viktor's favorite waitress. After Viktor suggests Jayce take a break from all the fancy dinners and embrace a simpler style of dining. They are both just enamored by Readers hospitality after they mention it's their first time/first time in a while. Leaving a generous tip. (could be a tip or a tiiip)

Go crazy go stupid. I’m positive you will COOK.

ORDER UP! - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Viktor and Jayce have horrendous eating habits. Too focused on their work to properly take at least a thirty-minute break to eat. You'd think after Jayce became a counsellor his eating habits would become better, nope! The “meals” they serve during meetings couldn’t even fill up a baby poro.

While Jayce was away as a counsellor, Viktor was alone in the lab. One day when he was incredibly frustrated, he took a break. He left the lab and went to a quaint diner called Roadside Revival. He ate amazing food and met a beautiful waitress; You. He needs to bring Jayce here STAT.

warnings: unhealthy eating habits, flirting, favouritism, pre-established JV (they want that cookie (you) SO BAD), reader is very sweet and called the boys honey and sugar; they love it like flowers in the sun, reader treats everyone else like Max from "2 Broke Girls" (one scene is inspired by the show), smoking, suggestive content sprinkled throughout (and especially at the end)

genre: m/m/f

p.s. the way this request was worded made me wheeze. THE JAYVIK MESSIAH?!?!?? Is that what I'm going go be known as? I'm not complaining! Does that make y'all my commune? Do I need to get a dark blue blanket and wear it cuntily?

Viktor wants to rip his hair out. The equations aren't equaling, the rune sequence isn't working, he's tired, his back hurts, he hasn't eaten in several hours, and he misses Jayce.

One of those problems gets a solution almost immediately, when Jayce walks through the lab doors with a beaming smile.

Viktor feels his lips twitch at the excitable energy Jayce exudes. His mere presence makes Viktor more relaxed.

“I’m starving! Those portions they give out are horrendous! I'm telling you, V, they're like five strands of spaghetti and two meatballs if you're lucky. I'm a big boy, I need to eat!”

Viktor smirks and slowly stands up from his chair, walking over to his partner, “You are a big boy but don't lie. Your eating habits are just as bad as mine.” Viktor pulls Jayce in close with his cane and kisses him, enjoying how Jayce surrounds him. His warmth, his scent. Him.

Jayce smiles into the kiss and pulls away with a small giggle, “Oh shut up. Speaking of food, have you eaten?”

Viktor looks away with a fake look of innocence.

“Viktor.”

“What?”

“Have you eaten today? A glass of sweet milk and a singular piece of toast don't count.”

There's a small silence before Viktor sighs dramatically, “No I haven't, BUT—” he says the last word loudly, to prevent Jayce from scolding him, “There’s this diner I've been frequenting, the Roadside Revival. Many different dishes, amazing portions, and fairly priced. I've been planning to take you there when we both had the time so we could get an actual tasty meal in this godforsaken city.”

Jayce quirks an eyebrow, “Really? Tell me more.” he states as he puts his hand on Viktor’s lower back as they leave and lock the lab.

He's been dying for some good food from— somewhere! He's getting sick of cooking all the time, he wants a place he can go to when he's lazy. With Viktor's praise, this might be the place.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your shift is going well, thank god. With how shitty some of the other shifts have been, you were wondering when you were going to crash out and hit a customer.

An annoying snapping takes you out of your thoughts, and you have to reign in your sigh. These two uppity academy students are treating you like a dog. You'll see if they appreciate the sentiment.

You sway over to their table, "Hey, what can I getcha?" Before the guy can even finish his sentence, you're snapping your fingers centimeters away from his face.

"Was that annoying?" You snap your fingers again and the two customers look stunned. "Is that obnoxious and rude?" You rhetorically ask, snapping once more, "Would you find that distracting if someone did that to you when you were working? Oh! You don't have a job, sorry. " The other guy snickers and you shoot him a glare. He shuts up. "I'm not on your side either buddy, you're just as bad as your friend for allowing him to act like that."

You look at snappy one last time, "You think this," You snap your fingers in his face, "is the sound that gets you service. I think this is the sound that dries up my vagina."

And with that, you saunter away, not taking their order.

You start to clean up the bar area when the jingle of the door catches your attention, you go to make your usual greeting, "Hi, welcome to Roadside Revival! What can I--" you stop in your tracks when you see your favourite customer Viktor and a man you've only seen on mugs and posters across town.

A beaming smile lights up your face, "Viktor, honey, you made it! I was wondering if you were coming in today! I would've had to drink the pitcher of sweet milk all on my own!"

Viktor dramatically gasps and raises a hand to his chest in mock offence, "That's betrayal of the highest order."

A smirk grazes your red lips, "That's what you get for making a lady wait. Your usual booth?"

Viktor smiles with a slight nod, you pick up two menus and bring him to what you consider to be the ultimate booth. It's right next to large windows, where you can get the warmth of the sun and a nice breeze of ac. There's quite a few trees so you're not blinded and can comfortably talk with anyone you're sitting with.

"Here ya go! Sorry for not introducing myself," You state to Viktor's companion, you point to your oval name badge and say your name, "and I'll be your waitress for today! I just got so excited seeing my favourite customer! So... can I start you off with any drinks?"

Viktor says nothing, his sweet milk pitcher is waiting for him. Jayce furrows his brows and says, "Coffee will do, thank you." You lightly scrunch your nose and say, "Fair warning Golden Boy, the coffee is kind of shit. But if you order any other variation, like a cappuccino, mocha, french vanilla, I have to make it. And it'll actually be consumable."

Jayce huffs a laugh, "It's Jayce. I'll take your advice then, may I please have an iced mocha?"

You giggle as you lean away from the handsome man, "A man after my own heart, think I'll call you sugar. With manners like that you're as sweet as can be."

You turn around to get their drinks, and because of this you don't see Viktor's smirk and Jayce's flushed face.

"Now you see why I like coming here." Viktor calmly states as he looks through the menu, Jayce's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

"Is she like that with everyone?"

Viktor looks up and lightly crooks his head to the side, silently telling Jayce to look over, there you are, a grimace on your face as a customer tries to flirt with you. He can't hear what you're saying, but he hears your tone, and it's irritated.

"No. She isn't."

And for some reason, Jayce smiles and straightens his spin, feeling special.

"Honey?" He questions. Viktor blushes and mumbles, "Because of my eyes. She said they remind her of honey and I'm just as sweet to look at."

Jayce laughs at his partners expression, and in his flustered state; Viktor kicks him underneath the booth with his stronger leg. Jayce yelps in pain. Viktor got the last laugh, his partner is making fun of him. How rude!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're hustling your ass off to try to keep the customers happy. Serving drinks, food, topping up coffee and water. Your energy is waning. You want to kill your co-worker.

She's currently getting fucked in the walk in freezer as you bust you ass off for ungrateful assholes. One older gentleman grunts, "Where's my waitress?! It's been fifteen minutes!" Before you can reply, a loud moan is heard throughout the diner, "She's cumming!" You say with a giggle, knowing the old man won't get the double-entendre.

You're finally able to bring the sweet milk and mocha to your-- now two favourite customers.

"You have an idea of what you want to eat?"

The two nod and hand you their menus. You can't help but smile at them, so sweet, so polite, so handsome.

God you wish you were your co-worker in the walk-in freezer getting your shit plowed by your honey and sugar. Fuck, they'd probably feel so good, and actually make you cum. Your poor purple bullet vibrator can finally take a break.

The rest of your shift went well, you tried your best to stay by Viktor and Jayce's table, trying to maintain your sanity. They leave an incredibly generous tip, like enough to pay your rent generous. You try to deny it, but they insist. You can't say no to them.

The only upside is what happens at the end of your shift, after you've closed up the diner.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slowly but surely, the other customers left. Jayce and Viktor stayed behind, offering to walk you home since it got dark out. Having playful banter, flirting, and too-long touches.

It's only when the three of you left the diner and were relaxing outside during the fresh evening breeze did what you've been fantasizing about was about to come to fruition.

You lean against the wall of the diner, pulling out a cigarette and light it. You take a small hit and appreciate the nicotine relaxing you. You feel a grasp on your wrist and look to see Viktor bring the cigarette up to his own lips. Jayce gasps.

"Viktor! Seriously?! You smoke? Isn't that bad, worse due to your condition."

Viktor exhales and the smoke comes out as a ring, "Let me be hypocritical Jayce. I'm dying, let me enjoy a few pleasures in life." his lips are tinted pink due to the residue of your lipstick on the filter of the cigarette.

You want to see his pale skin covered in kiss marks, bruises, and hickeys. You subtly look to Jayce, you want to see his hair messy, no longer swept up due to his pomade. You want to see scratch lines down his back, angry and red; maybe even a little bloody.

"There's more pleasure's in life than just smoking a cigarette." You say, hitting your cigarette again, the end lighting up a burnt orange; you flick the ask onto the floor and exhale the smoke. "Pretty sure your pretty boy here is more than willing to show you. What a polite man, he also take directions well." You state, remembering asking for Jayce to help with certain aspects of cleaning the diner and he did so; without question.

Viktor smirks and Jayce sputters.

"You're not wrong." Viktor adds, Jayce just flushes a darker red. You giggle and bring your cigarette to your lips, Viktor continues, "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you also follow instructions well?"

You smirk, giving Viktor the rest of the cigarette, his lips darken even more.

"Give me a good reason to."

Viktor and Jayce share a dark look. You feel your face lightly heat up.

"We'll get you to moan louder than your co-worker did in the back." his accent his thick, and Jayce bites his lip and adds, "And we won't stop until that pretty makeup you have on is smeared all over your face."

You hum and cross your arms over your chest, your tits moved up through the open unzipped portion of your dress. The two men's eyes dart down immediately; looking lecherously.

"So... your place or mine?"

Jayce smiles, his dimples popping through. He puts a hand on your lower back as you three start to walk.

"Ours." Viktor states, his cane thumping rhythmically on the sidewalk, "Unless you want to fuck in an allyway, I don't think any of us have the patience to walk to yours."

You nod, "Fair point."

You may not have gotten the dicking down you wanted during your shift, but at least you're getting it afterwards.

A win is a win.

The inspiration train hit me, and the cackles and wheezes I made when reading this request, oh jeez I sounded like I was dying. But anyway, chat did I cook? Love ya ❤️

[lets-try-some-writing]

On the topic of Jack's dad leaving and the bots reaction to it, what do they feel for June? Because I can imagine the thought of being left to deal with a sparkling all on your own because your Conjunx and fellow caretaker just straight up abandoned you and the sparkling, does NOT leave happy thoughts in their head. Like, having a Conjunx seems pretty rare as it is, especially in the tfp universe. So to know what is essentially the human version of one abandoned June?

I'm new to this. Straight up never sent an ask on Tumblr before, uh, hope this is all right?... 😶

(I'm projecting because my own dad abandoned me, wait whaaaat, who said that??)

I wish I could hug you through the screen, anon. Sounds like you could use it. That said, I can see the bots both being unsurprised and confused all at once.

On Cybertron it was completely normal for a single bot to take on a newbuild or sparkling to mentor. At the same time, it was generally seen as a good idea to have two or more mentors involved in the rearing of a sparkling in order to diversify their education and ensure their health and wellbeing. With this in mind, the bots were not initially all that concerned when it came to June raising Jack alone. Orion Pax was brought up by Alpha Trion and the Archivists. Ratchet was raised by an entire colony of mechs of similar origin, communal style. Arcee was taught by a school for newbuilds who were not taken in by single or paired guardians. Bulkhead had a teacher who took him in when he was young and got him through school before they parted ways. Bumblebee was the collective ward of Autobot High Command and referred to all of them as his Sires, albeit with slightly different tones. Smokescreen was raised by the Elite Guard pretty much the moment he signed on. Ultra Magnus and his brother raised themselves and Wheeljack grew up in a pack of other wild newbuilds.

Simply put, there was no real standard for a family on Cybertron outside of the higher castes. Your family was what you made it. So June's situation wasn't all that jarring... until it was.

Conjunxing was rare in the extreme back on Cybertron. It was to be bound intimately and permanently in a way that even scientists had to admit had some level of supernatural effect involved. To choose to Conjunx was a lifelong commitment, a true contract for the functionally immortal Cybertronians. It was even rarer for Conjunxed partners to break way from each other, often because both parties failed to survive for long afterwards more often than not. To hear that June had been Conjunxed by human standards and then been abandoned after having a sparkling as well?

Completely and utterly unheard of.

That was not to say it didn't happen back on Cybertron, but to leave ones partner AND a sparkling? That was social execution.

To hear that June had endured that level of abandonment shook the team. According to Cybertronian custom, to try and preserve the lives of guardian and sparkling it was widely accepted that the community was to step up in the other partner's absence. And so the moment the team registered the situation and translated it culturally, there was an instant shift in disposition around June in particular. There wasn't much they could do for the human women, but they could step up in place of Jack's Sire, just as tradition dictated.

June found herself being talked to by Optimus about the loss of loved ones, earning her the story of how the Prime lost Elita-1 in an attempt to connect. Ratchet started leaving either cash that he picked up for June to use as needed, a small gesture to make up for his lack of available time. Arcee took it upon herself to step up and teach Jack the lessons a Sire would have taught, walking him through mature topics and offering the wisdom of her long life. Bulkhead did the same, trying to give what wisdom he could in the absence of Jack's other creator and even going so far as to share a few stories of his guardian back before the war to connect to the boy. Bumblebee, not having much experience in the field of parenting, instead chose to be more of a friend. He and Jack weren't particularly close, but he kept near to keep an optic on the boy in case he was having a rough day.

Neither Jack or June understood why the team adjusted their behavior and they didn't need to know. Custom would be upheld, even amidst war.

[feinv]

konigs red flags? <3

könig’s red flags.

cw. gn!reader.

⚔︎ emotionally immature/lack of common sense/empathy

like. genuinely. you need to sit this man down and explain everything to him. and even that doesn’t guarantee that he will understand what you’re saying. being in the military, he is used to receiving commands with specific outcomes. you need to do this for that to happen. it makes sense to him only if it is logical. so when you tell him you would like him to do this or that because it would make you feel a certain way, he is staring at you like a lost sheep, because what do you even mean?

doesn’t know the difference between “will you be my girlfriend/boyfriend” vs “can i be your boyfriend.” doesn’t even know the second one exists because it is the same thing for him. 

i think when you two start getting closer, kiss each other, hang out often, and just overall get more physically touchy, he automatically assumes you are a couple and rolls with it. doesn’t even propose for you to be his partner because if you didn’t like him you wouldn’t do all that, right? right??

when his behavior leaves you with mixed signals, and you finally ask him if he even likes you, he is actually confused “what do you mean, schatz? we are together.” and when you tell him he didn’t ask you, he has the audacity to be flabbergasted with an “i had to ask??”

same thing happens when some people prefer their partner to ask them out on valentines day, and you happen to be one of them. actually has no clue why you are sad or mad with him. he had to ask? again?? if you are together, who else’s valentine would you be?? “i’m sorry, bitte. i didn’t know. why didn’t you tell me?” bright blue eyes, sheepishly staring back at you. it’s not like he is arrogant or doesn’t respect you. he is just a fuckin idiot.

⚔︎ clinginess

personal space doesn’t exist in his vocabulary, especially if you two live together. he wants to be around you 24/7 and do everything with you. you’re writing something in your journal? he scoots the chair to sit next to you and read. need to go to the bathroom? accompanies you on the way and STAYS THERE. even if you have to take a fuckin shit. nothing about you can gross him out. you are going out with your friends? okay, let him put on his cargo pants. wait, what do you mean he isn’t comi- 

⚔︎ communication issues/overly emotional and avoidant

the thing with könig is that he either doesn’t think or overthinks like there is no tomorrow. if you sit next to him on the couch and don’t cuddle him, he gaslights himself into believing you are avoiding him or don’t love him anymore. and instead of asking if you are mad at him or if he did something wrong for you to deny it and resolve the issue, he just bottles it in and distracts himself with something else — anything that will keep him busy and avoid you for the whole day before he can’t take it anymore, his need to cling to you getting ahead of him as he stumbles into the bedroom and holds onto you for his dear life.

when you two are having an argument, he might actually fucking bawl his eyes out and beg you not to leave him. of course, you weren’t going to. you are just explaining to him what he did wrong and what he can do to fix it. but he is already on his knees, gripping onto your hips so tightly with his face buried in your torso, bubbling apologies and pleas in german and how he would actually die if you leave him.

⚔︎ dry texter

especially tragic during the early stages of your relationship. you send him a selfie of you, looking as gorgeous as ever. his pupils dilating and getting replaced with literal hearts and his pants getting uncomfotably tighter. he is so lost for words that he doesn’t even know what to say because nothing can ever describe how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. so instead, he decides to do the next stupid thing — leaving you on seen or just reacting with a heart emoji.

safe to say he learns his lesson when he later sees your glossy eyes, trying his best to be more affectionate over texts, and you learn not to take his dry-ass reactions – or lack of them – too close to heart. 

he is stupid. please be patient with him.

# könig masterlist | main m.list | join the taglist

[radioactiverats]

Thoughts: Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (5/?)

Inspired by @xarology amazing art - just my own wild thoughts on nose scar because HALAS;DFJL;AFJD

Thank you @jackalackqwq and @swiftyangx12 for lovely art and always following my random thoughts with comments ily guys <3 Literally bringing this story to life with the amazing visualisations! And ty everyone for the reblogs, likes and comments they keep me going!!

Nose scar: You crash due to someone's incompetence and totally crack your faceplate open. Cue Starscream screeching

The war had totally upended your previous way of life, but one thing that remained constant through it all was the nonstop training. That was fine with you for the most part, as it provided a mote of familiarity amidst all the uncertainty. But aside from improving your ability in the air, there was another practical reason for it.

Group attacks.

Common, of course, but there was an issue.

Back in the academy, group maneuvers were only introduced towards the end of the program. Not only did seekers need competence in solo flight, but friendship, for the lack of a better word, was a significant contributory factor to success. As it turned out, closeness was most important in determining the harmony of a group flight, so you were ordinarily given a few years to form bonds with one another before actually being allowed anywhere near group maneuvers.

However, the war affords you no such luxury, and you find yourself lumped in with bots you've never met before in preparation to attempt a group drill. As usual, Starscream had been in command with a few other lieutenants to provide air support, but as soon as the session started, he'd been abruptly called away to attend to matters on the bridge.

Scores collected from individual drills means that you've been assigned the lead, and you stiffen as soon as you hear this. Part of you swells with pride to see proof of your hard work - even though you're contented yourself with being a follower, you've always wanted to be like Starscream. Having your capabilities acknowledged to be of leadership quality pleased you immensely, but at the same time... Starscream would never have risked your helm by putting you in such a high-profile position. However, a lieutenant seeker was now temporarily in charge, and had no such qualms about putting you straight in the firing line. He’d glanced at the score when was your turn and promptly waved you to the front.

“But-”

“You telling me that someone with your abilities should be wasted in the back?”

You promptly shut your intake.

You glance at the two other bots you're with - older than you, and probably more experienced, too. But they hadn't said anything when you timidly stepped to the front of the formation. You hope they're not the sort to take offense.

Lifting off without issue, it’s smooth sailing for the most part. The extent of your communications remained blessedly limited to curt reports on flight conditions as you soared straight ahead, and you're hopeful for an equally peaceful descent before you go your separate ways.

Unfortunately, no such luck.

Just as you think you’ll be able to make it safely back, your sensors pick up on a strange wind pattern up ahead. The collision point of a Ferrell cell and a Hadley cell - this planet had its own unique system of atmospheric circulation, which led to the collision of strong, opposing winds at certain latitudes. Starscream had taught you how to recognise them before, with an ominous warning that flying into them could disable even the most experienced of seekers.

You activate your comms. "In eight hundred metres, bank right.”

There’s a momentary silence before your comms crackle back online. “What did you say?”

“There’s really strong winds up ahead. We can’t just fly through it,” You say. You’re getting a bad feeling about this. Now would be a horrible time for your partners to misunderstand your urgent instructions as a show of power, rather than an increasingly frantic attempt to save your sparks.

“Strong winds, my aft,” The other jet’s derisive laughter crackles mockingly through your comms. “My sensors didn’t detect anything. Maybe you’re just a weakling.”

“No! Just look!”

The worst thing was that this formation required you to fly together at incredibly close quarters - meaning that you weren’t able to stop, because the others would crash right into your wings.

Five hundred meters.

“Come on, don’t you guys want to impress the lieutenant?”

“He’s a fragging slaghead,” Was the immediate response you got.

Just as you truly begin to panic - “Wait,” The other jet suddenly says. “I think they’re right.” As you fly closer, the clouds almost seem to be distorting before your optics, warped by fierce columns of wind.

“A likely story,” The first one snorts. “How long have you been flying? Longer than our squad leader -" his voice takes on a derisive tone - “has been alive.”

“Two hundred meters,” You warn.

A tense silence falls over your comms.

“I’m following what they said,” Crackles decisively through. “You’ll have to send me to the scrapheap before I fly through that just to make a point.”

“Frag you,” Growls the other voice, outraged static marring his words.

One hundred meters.

“Come on,” You say again, frantic, on the cusp of pleading.

The other jet says nothing, but you can feel the spike of his EM field when the column of wind begins to make itself known against the plates of your altmodes.

Fifty meters. Surely he wouldn’t be that stubborn. It was hard enough to stay alive in a war - would a mech really risk his spark over something as inconsequential as this?

You decide to take a gamble. If he banks with you at the last minute, no harm, no foul. If he doesn’t…

Surely, surely he would.

Twenty meters.

Ten.

The screaming of engines overtakes your audials as you and the jet to your left swerve sharply to the right - and your optics widen in fear as you realize what the defiant jet to your right has decided to do.

He’d wisely decided not to challenge the whipping column of wind, but in order to defy you, he’d decided to maneuver upwards instead. You’ve been told that losing position is one of the worst things that can happen, and you’re about to find out precisely why that is. The jet’s altmode clips your wing. Being of a heftier build, he wobbles in the air before managing to right himself. However, you are not so lucky. The momentum of your turn sends you careening straight for the wind column. Burning pain radiating outwards from the dent in your wing, you find yourself buffeted by the winds and unable to regain control of your spiralling frame.

You hurtle through cloud layer after cloud layer in a wild tailspin, mist obscuring your vision as you’re tossed around like a ragdoll by the roaring winds. Next to the Terrans, you may be a giant. But at the mercy of the natural world, you may as well be an ant. Through the panic that fizzles your processor, you suddenly latch onto something Starscream had drilled into your processor before.

You were done for the day - you’d done everything exactly as he instructed and by all standards, the session should have ended on a high. But as Starscream had quietly turns round, ready to return to base, an oddly somber mood had settled over you both. It took only two steps before he was glancing back at you, seemingly torn over whether or not to share what was bothering him.

“Sir?”

“…If you ever find yourself without control over your frame in the air, and nothing you do is working,” Starscream says, “transform into bot mode. Less resistance on the wings.” His voice has an edge to it, but you can’t quite discern what the emotion tingeing his words is. “Understand?”

“…Yes?” To you, this felt completely out of the blue - advice, while you were certain of its value, had nothing to do with the maneuvers you practiced today.

Starscream pivots to face you head on, optics feverishly bright. “Repeat it.”

Your confusion lasts for a few nanokliks too long for his liking, because he bares his denta in a frustrated snarl. “Are your audials working? Repeat what I just said!”

“Uh,” You fumble, trying to gather your thoughts. “If I don’t have control over my frame in the air, I should transform into bot mode?”

“Because there’s less resistance on the wings,” Starscream repeats. He sniffs, even if his plating isn’t drawn so tight now that he knows you’ve listened to what he said. “I hope I don’t have to spell out the necessity of transforming back into your altmode as soon as you regain control of the situation.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

The mood when you walk back to base is considerably lighter, but what prompted that sudden piece of emergency spark-saving advice had always been a mystery to you.

Well, now in the air and reduced to a chew toy flung around by the screaming forces of nature, it clicks into place. With all your strength, you activate transformation protocols, and feel the acute resistance against your plates and gears even as you transform. The sudden shift in mass and surface area throws you off-kilter for a nanoklik, but it’s in your favour. You’re abruptly thrown from the column of wind and into open air before your frame continues its downward plummet, gathering speed as the lush colours of the Terran earth once more bleed into your vision.

The Earth is green, you realise. Oh so green. Blurs of Decepticon paint zip into view. You send a silent apology to Starscream, already having calculated your odds. You’re sorry for not obeying his orders well enough. You’re sorry for being an embarrassment. You’re sorry for making him worry.

You grit your denta and focus the last ounce of strength you have into transforming into your alt mode, thrusters screaming as you try to pull up - however, you simply don’t have enough airspace to pull it off successfully. It’s enough to save your spark, you think, as you make agonising contact with the unforgiving earth. You just don’t know how permanent the damage will be.

For a nanoklik, your sensors are so overwhelmed with sensation that the pain doesn’t kick in right away. Everything happens at once - a billion warnings leap up on your HUD, the agony flares across the entirety of your plating, arcing through your wires like electricity. Through the ringing in your audials, you hear shouts approaching - echoing, warping through your rattled processor. Vaguely, you could make out the lieutenant, your partners - and… was that… Starscream…?

Scrap.

Half of you didn’t want him to see you like this. The other half of you wept and screamed for him to comfort you.

It seemed you had no choice, though. When you tried to move, or at least transform back into bot mode, you realised that you were as good as frozen - systems locked as your frame desperately tried to minimise further damage.

“CADET!”

You only manage a horrific crackle of static in response. But through the pain, you can still feel Starscream’s warm servo on the nose of your altmode. You focus with everything you have on that source of warmth, of kindness. “Listen to me,” Starscream says, next to your shattered cockpit. He’s forcing himself to sound calm, neutral - but the underlying tension in his voice threatens to bleed through, stringing his words tight. “I know it’ll use up the rest of your reserves, but you need to transform now so I can take you to med bay.”

You want to obey, but you’re so tired, the fuzziness of pain and exhaustion weighing your frame down. You try to tell your commander this, through another slurred buzz of static and frag, that hurt. Didn’t even know you could hurt there.

Distantly, you feel the panicked fluctuations of Starscream's EM field. “For the love of Primus, TRANSFORM!” Starscream roars, panic rearing its head as he abandons all pretence of neutrality. They can’t fix you like this. Maybe on Vos, once upon a time. But Knockout, for all that he can do, is not a seeker - and there are limits to what can be done with the seeker altmode without specialised knowledge. Besides, you wouldn’t fit into his med bay, and all of these become urgent problems when Starscream can feel your EM field growing fainter by the nanoklik.

Blearily, you register the frantic spikes of his EM field against your plating. Was he upset? You didn’t want Starscream to be upset. You could fix it. What was that he was yelling at you to do?

Transforming hurts. Every inch of your frame screams as loose screws and fractured plates twist and warp themselves into bot mode. Two warm servos clamp down on either side of your helm, and Starscream’s panicked expression swims into view. “Good,” He murmurs, and you hear his vocaliser reset as he forces the tremor from his voice. “Now, was that so hard?”

No, you want to say, because it was you who asked it of me. But all that comes out is another garbled mess of incoherent static and this time, you’re more aware that there’s something wrong with your intake, beyond your vocaliser. Without thinking, you shakily raise a servo to touch, to find out exactly what’s wrong. But Starscream sees your servo move and promptly scolds you back into submission, even if his frantic worry steals the bite from his words. Slowly, you take in the warnings on your HUD and realise it’s way more than just your intake. Another wave of pain sweeps through your misfiring sensors, cracking through your helm and splintering across your faceplate. Oh, scrap. Was Starscream… holding you together? That would explain the look on his faceplate.

There’s so many things you want to tell him, but only manage to place your bloodied servo over his - a firework show of popups on your HUD are all the warning you get before you’re out like a light. It's a shame that the all warnings have to obscure Starscream's faceplate before that.

---

The screech of a welder is what you awaken to. Knockout abruptly switches it off as soon as he notices you're awake - you can't help but think that it's uncharacteristically gentle of him, but you're thankful enough not to question it.

"Nasty tumble you took there," He remarks, as you groan. The pain has lessened, but your frame feels like lead and the warnings on your HUD are relentless despite your continuous attempts to close them.

Knockout regards you for a nanoklik more before shaking his helm, tutting disapprovingly. "Such a nice paintjob, too. Now hold still, I'm nearly done."

Gritting your denta as the welder screams to life again, you wish you had just stayed unconscious because by Solus, getting soldered back into one piece fragging hurt. You note with surprise and pleasure, however, that you've regained your sensory systems in your faceplate. Gently touching a servo to your cheek, you gratefully realise Knockout has chosen to work in order of most to least pain - as he'd knocked out (you bite your glossa to keep the inappropriate laughter back) the most painful aspects of your repair while you were still unconscious. The crack across your faceplate from chin to optic has been welded and buffed to perfection, save for... you frown as your fingers find a sizeable dent in your nose. Knowing Knockout's perfectionist streak, you wonder why something so obvious would have been left out, but hesitate to ask since he's already done such a good job on the rest of your frame and you feel guilty asking for more. However, you fail to quell the disquieting sense of unease that bubbles up in your chassis, which tells you that Knockout wouldn't have left your nose out without a very good reason.

You're panting by the time he finishes, plates drawn tight against your frame as you work through the residual pain. The dull grey of your metal shines through in patches, having ungracefully smeared the Terran grass with your paint - but your once-fractured plates are perfectly smooth and polished thanks to Knockout's handiwork.

It's relatively smooth sailing up until that point, because the final part of your frame requiring repair is your wings. Tender, not to mention the pain that arcs through your leading edges, spoilers, ailerons whenever you move... Primus. You decide not to think too hard about it. You have no idea how Starscream managed to stay still under your trembling servos that time you had to patch him up - every touch of the welder to your wings has you seizing in pain, writhing under Knockout's servos no matter how he tries to soothe you. Finally, he clicks the welder offline, with your wings still largely in disrepair.

Your ragged in-vents are all that fill the med bay. "Primus," Knockout mutters. "This isn't working."

For some reason, you get the feeling that his disgusted snarls of frustration aren't directed at you.

You watch quietly as he paces the length of his med bay, before finally whirling around to face you. "No matter what you're about to say, kid, I'm paging Starscream," He informs you. "Primus knows how many times he's had his wings repaired."

Knockout tilts his helm towards the ceiling, optics shuttered and his intake set in a grim line. "After all that effort to keep him out of my med bay, too."

The mental image of Starscream attempting to force his way into med bay just to make sure you're alright is almost too mind-boggling to entertain. Still, now is not the time. Your wings droop as Knockout sends the message out, angry at yourself for causing so much trouble. The pain that radiates from your wing joints at such a movement is deserved, you tell yourself. Is this how you repay Starscream for all that he's done for you? However, your downward spiral is promptly cut short by aggressive hammering at the door of med bay - Knockout emits a long-suffering sigh before going to open it. Starscream all but hurtles into the room, but you'd sensed his EM field even before that - spiking in waves as he attempts to suppress the panic before it gets the better of him.

"Well?" He demands, having taken in your prone form, patches of paint missing and the bridge of your nose chipped.

"Calm yourself," Knockout sniffs. "This is some of my best work to date."

"Best?" Starscream hisses. "Look at their nose! What do you call that?"

"Ah." Knockout looks oddly solemn at that. "One of the reasons I called you here. Filling in a part of one's anatomy requires high quality metal - and as you know, our glorious leader has deemed it un-utilitarian to allow soldiers access to such materials."

"Then put it under my designation," Starscream snarls, but Knockout shakes his helm, almost looking regretful.

"Even if you could, we're simply too short on materials to conduct such an operation. Abundant on Cybertron, sure. On the Terrans' planet, however? In a word: lacking."

By now, you're sure the anger pulsing off Starscream's EM field could power a small spaceship. Unfortunately, Knockout isn't done yet.

"The more pressing matter, however," he continues, "is the repair of their wings. I'm sure you understand."

At that, Starscream freezes. His optics zero in on you with intense precision and in the next nanoklik he's striding over to you, no-nonsense. "Show me."

You shuffle your frame upright, baring your wings to him. Judging by Starscream's sharp in-vent, it's not looking good. A few tense nanokliks pass, and you swivel back round to see Starscream nod curtly at Knockout. "I'll take it from here."

Turning back to you, he jerks his helm in the direction of the door. "Come on."

Before you can protest, Starscream loops a servo round your waist to support you, mindful of your wings. You strain to stay upright in front of the wandering eyes of other Decepticons, thankful that Starscream is more or less holding you up. You won't disgrace him any further. You won't - but finally, in the privacy of Starscream's habsuite, you can't hold back the ragged gasp of pain as the door slides shut behind you.

"On the berth, wings up," Starscream says shortly. He's already dug the welder out. But in spite of your best efforts, you can't stop trembling, already anticipating the pain.

However, instead of the unforgiving heat of the welder, Starscream's warm servo lands comfortingly on an unblemished area of your wings. "Brave," he murmurs, in Vosian, and it nearly makes coolant spring to your optics all over again.

There's a few instances in which you thrash so hard under the welder that Starscream has to hold you down, but you understand why Knockout decided to call Starscream in for wing repairs. Starscream murmuring to you in Vosian takes the raw edge of pain off, gently stroking the broad sections of your wings in between welds.

You're exhausted by the time he's finished, tremors jolting your frame even as the pain subsides. "All done," Starscream says, even if his vocaliser clips out for a nanoklik. "Now, was that so hard?"

Another garbled mess of static is all you can manage, but you determinedly extend your EM field to brush against his. Starscream stiffens before ex-venting deeply and allowing your fields to merge. "Recharge," He commands gently, tucking your frame against his, mindful of fresh welds. Exhaustion sweeping over you like a tidal wave, you're distantly aware of Starscream lightly stroking a thumb over the jagged scar on your nose. "'m sorry," You mumble into his chassis. "Hush," Starscream scolds. "What are you even sorry for?"

"Didn't do your lessons justice," You slur. "'m a waste of time." Starscream's arms tighten around you at that.

"Don't you dare call yourself a waste of time," He growls. "It's not your fault that some slagheads can't deal with their own incompetence. You're under my watch. That's all you, and the others, need to know."

"Mm," You mutter, burrowing closer to his warmth. "Yesssir."

Starscream ex-vents, but it's fond. He gently strokes his servo over your wings, soothing you enough to fall into recharge.

"Patience," He murmurs, more to himself than to you. "One day, they'll pay for what they've done."

Previous /

[safetycgreen]

(adding to the normal bit here. being normal boils down to the duel question of "what's appropriate here or what are the behavioral limits in this situation?".

beginning with an extreme example, inflicting physical violence often exceeds what's considered an acceptable behavior while resting quietly is rarely unacceptable. Border cases like talking loudly or about the reproductive habits of spiders change their acceptability based on the situation and people involved.

In essence, there's an invisible box surrounding every social interaction that dictates what sorts of actions are "normal", rude, or even both.

there isn't a comprehensive list or algorithm for every situation which leaves a frustrating question, "how can I know what's normal for this situation right now?". The answer is effectively social gambling. you do not know the boundaries for what the other person considers rude and neither does your partner. you could bet big and start talking about spiders in detail, it might even work, but that's a lot of risk to find out just how comfortable someone is with unprompted spider lessons. what we need is a low risk way to find out more info.

Small talk time

Small talk are effectively very low risk gambles to signal you're open for social interaction, that you're friendly, and to try finding safe topics that aren't small talk. small talk topics are often benign physical concepts like the weather, the latest happenings nearby, asking what the other thinks of the place you two are in.

each topic you pass over will give you info in the form of implicit social ques or explicit statements. explicit statements are easy. simply take them at their word as concrete info. if you need clarification, ask once and they'll usually be helpful. if they aren't, mark the topic as outside of this situations bounds and move on.

Social ques are tricky as by their nature, social ques aren't directly told to you. You'll have to interpret their tone of voice, facial expressions, body language, and occasionally wording to try and figure out what's being communicated. you won't know for certain, of course, but these clues can help you with your social gambling. (they can also help signal your boundaries to others, try practicing them like you would for acting)

if you make a mistake and overstep, be earnest in a short apology and try to continue if they're willing. if they've overstepped what you consider rude in this situation or have made you uncomfortable, say so plainly and as politely as you believe the transgression deserves. if they try to make amends, continue. do not continue if they try to accuse you for their transgression or otherwise try to overrule your social boundaries.

Imagine if you met someone who can't eat watermelon. Not that they're allergic or unable somehow, but they just haven't figured out how to do that. So you're like "what the hell do you mean? it works just like eating anything else, you open your mouth, sink your teeth in, take a bite and chew. If you can bite, chew and swallow, you should be able to eat a watermelon."

And they agree that yes, they do know how to eat, in theory. The problem is the watermelon. Surely, if they figured out where to start, they'd figure out how to do it, but they have no clue how to get started with it.

This goes back and forth. No, it's not an emotional issue, they're not afraid of the watermelon. They can eat any other fruit, other sweet things, and other watery things ("it's watery?" they ask you). Is it the colour? Do they have a problem eating things that are green on the outside and red on the inside?

"It's red on the inside?"

Wait, they've never seen the inside? At this point you have to ask them how, exactly, they eat the watermelon. So to demonstrate, they take a whole, round, uncut watermelon, and try to bite straight into it. Even if they could bite through the crust, there's no way to get human jaws around it.

"Oh, you're supposed to cut it first. You cut the crust open and only chew through the insides."

And they had no idea. All their life this person has had no idea how to eat a watermelon, despite of being told again and again and again that it's easy, it's ridiculous to struggle with something so simple, there's no way that someone just can't eat a watermelon, how can you even mange to be bad at something as fucking simple as eating watermelon.

If someone can't do something after being repeatedly told to "just do it", there might be some key component missing that one side has no idea about, and the other side assumed was so obvious it goes without mention.

[woozinhos]

Hi!! I just discovered ur account and have been loving your writing style! Can I pls request a Seonghwa husband headcanon? Make it as spicy as you would like lol

-Seonghwa is a devoted and loyal husband. He's always been one to put his partner's needs first, and that would extend to their marriage.

—He's incredibly supportive and encouraging, always believing in his partner's abilities and talents. He's the type of husband who would never hold his partner back or criticize them for their failures.

-Seonghwa is a great listener. He's always there to lend an ear when his partner needs to vent or talk about their feelings. He never interrupts or judges, just listens attentively and offers comfort when needed.

-He's incredibly thoughtful and romantic. Seonghwa is known for his ability to plan the most amazing dates and surprises for his partner. Whether it's a romantic dinner, a trip to a scenic location, or a thoughtful gift, he always finds ways to show his love and appreciation.

- Seonghwa is also incredibly patient and understanding. He knows that relationships aren't always perfect, and he's willing to work through the tough times with his partner. He's not afraid to communicate his feelings and address any issues that arise in their relationship.

-Lastly, Seonghwa is incredibly affectionate and loving. He's not afraid to show his partner how much he cares through physical touch, words of affirmation, and kind gestures. He's always there to offer hugs, kisses, and cuddles when his partner needs them most.

Smut below:

-Seonghwa is incredibly passionate and attentive. He takes his time with his partner, focusing on their pleasure and making sure they're fully satisfied before he even thinks about his own.

-He's skilled and experienced, able to use his hands and mouth to bring his partner to the brink of ecstasy. He knows just where to touch and how to touch to drive them wild.

-Seonghwa is dominant in bed, taking control and leading his partner through their intimate moments. He knows what he wants and isn't afraid to communicate his desires.

-He's also incredibly protective and possessive of his partner. He likes to leave marks on their skin as a reminder that they belong to him and only him.

-Seonghwa is open to trying new things and exploring their sexual boundaries together. He's adventurous and willing to experiment, always looking for ways to spice up their intimacy.

-Finally, Seonghwa always makes sure to check in with his partner throughout their intimate moments, making sure they're comfortable and enjoying themselves. He values communication and trust in their relationship.

[nerdishpursuits]

I'm sat here perusing various posts and thinking that even when the narrative is developing in a way that's not utterly predicable and the resolution to conflicts is, mostly, decent or satisfactory? There seems to be cause for alarm. Maybe I'm missing something but it baffles me. Now that Pelayo has revealed himself to be gay, there's concern it might actually be a ruse to entrap Marta in his web of deceit. Judging by the looks of him and the revenue of his company, which far exceeds that of Marta's family, it stands to reason this man doesn't need artifice to ensnare a wife. There must be candidates aplenty. Least of all does he need to play the gay-man-card in Franquist Spain. That his motives go deeper than sheer altruism and helping out a fellow misfit in her time of need? Very likely. After all, next episode he tells Marta he has his eyes set on politics. Whether he will try and convince her they both stand to benefit from a lavender marriage, or something else happens that puts one of them, or both, in jeopardy, thus resulting in a union of convenience? All the speculation as of late might be way off the mark, all thanks to some supposed spoiler, unverified and clickbaity. We'll have to wait and see. What's clear is that he is here to stay and his fortunes will become linked with Marta & Fina. I will say, Pelayo's coming-out scene was one I very much enjoyed. Marta lacks friends, especially ones she can be herself around. Doubly gratifying if said friends could also have her back when it comes to the perilous world of business. Especially now that Marta’s position within the company has been weakened by ceding shares to Tasio. So all in all, it was nice seeing both Marta and Pelayo relieved at having stumbled upon an unlikely ally. The mythical unicorn, as it were. Pelayo: I too went to the Uni of Corn Marta: You? Intro to Introverts? I studied under Dr. Sapphis Cunnilingus, SeraFina Valero, class of 1958

That being said? It’s pretty obvious Pelayo’s request that Marta doesn’t reveal his truth to anyone at all, not even esa chica? Will result in some measure of drama. Mafin is well established as a couple and doubting if they love each other is never the issue. Their next hurdle will be one of communication and one which poses somewhat of a moral dilemma: does sharing someone’s secret with your partner, when said person asked you to keep it, a betrayal make? The drama this will stir can be seen from miles away, Legolas style. Marta’s loyalty resides with Fina, no doubt about it. But I'm guessing they will find ways to draw out this narrative and cause tension between them. If well written? It should be entertaining and result in plenty of rewarding scenes.

I also have to say, in all fairness, it irks me that Pelayo referred to Fina as esa chica. It’s obvious he knows who Marta’s partner is (imho, one glimpse at them in Marta’s office and the wheels are turning). But it comes across a tad condescending. I wonder how Fina will take to him initially, but a picnic it won’t be. Fina’s allergic to most men and this one? This one she’ll find particularly irritating. Especially if she doesn’t have all the information. She’s already worried Pelayo has ulterior motives and that Marta might end up paying the price. I will say, I love the fact that Fina’s not jealous, as her trust in Marta is absolute and their relationship has never been plagued by toxicity. What she doesn’t trust is the good intentions of men, especially those who hold information they could use against you.

And now that I’m thinking about it, I do wonder why it’s such a problem for Pelayo that Marta’s partner learns the truth. They’re all in the same boat. They all walk the gauntlet, every day, keenly aware of the dangers their lifestyle exposes them to. Fina wouldn’t betray him. Though I assume, for someone who wants to enter politics? Trusting a stranger to not accidentally spill the beans might prove unwise. In time, he’ll get to know Fina and change his mind - that's a given. I do believe the three of them will ultimately become the best of friends and it will be satisfying to watch them embark upon this journey together. But until then? I expect some drama awaits, right around the corner (also, shout-out to the novelita for adding a gay man to its list of characters: let it not be said we're not getting spoiled) I’ve also been thinking about the garden scenes. They could well have been symbols of Marta and Fina’s new-found freedom. Open space, fresh air, no walls closing in on them. A place they could fence out the world and pretend they could escape it. Alas. Said world is once again closing in on them, presenting them with new limitations to struggle with.

Their freedom has been hard-won but it’s been infringed upon. As such, the garden no longer feels secure or liberating and the scenes have moved indoors. Like a retreat to the tower, after the courtyard has been taken. It should feel somewhat claustrophobic, which it does: Fina worries someone is spying on them, that their beloved sanctuary isn’t the refuge they had hoped it would be. She’s still licking her wounds, weary and mistrusting. And with good reason. Not only has she been through hell and back, but now learns Marta has been on the verge of being sent to prison herself. That she's been exposed in a way that could lead to her downfall. Their downfall. Fina’s worry has as always revolved around something happening to Marta, leading to the loss of the woman she loves. Her anguished “if anything should befall you, it would kill me” is ever telling. And let's not forget this is the second time Fina confesses to this fear. It plagues her nights and waking hours and the show is now emphasizing it. Must be for a reason, because it sounds almost prophetic. I, for one, would like to see something happen to Marta because I’d be curious to watch Fina reacting to that. After all, Fina’s been stabbed, imprisoned and assaulted. Marta’s been spared so far. Let’s see if that changes at some point, in the name of good ol’ fashioned drama.

On a different note. Damián cautioning Marta that this is the life you chose was a good way of addressing Damián’s lingering bias. He has come a really long way and supports his daughter, but he continues to struggle with preconceived notions that don't align with Marta’s truth. Her response to this was perfect too: One doesn’t choose to be who they are.

Lastly. Carmen continuing to infantilize Tasio, absolving him of any and all fault, is laughable. After all, she trusts him as far as she can throw him and it shows. Nevertheless, her over-the-top anger at Marta is a valid portrayal of the type of woman who makes excuses for her husband and demonizes another woman instead. All because she’s managed to fix him and under her care he’s a reformed man. Room to grow for Carmen here, that’s a given. Furthermore, Tasio himself could have shown more backbone and assumed responsibility for his actions but he’s too scared of Carmen’s wrath. The Harridan’s Tale, a book by Carmen Recas. I do look forward to her and Marta patching things up though, which we know they will. Extra points if Fina gets to be a part of that.

[scribblesandink]

"I... I guess I don't... Really.... Have any? I mean.... I didn't grow up religious, so the idea that anything but total heterosexuality is wrong was never really an idea for me. Almost everyone in my family and that I grew up around was queer, and the idea of judging someone for the gender of who they dated was..... Kind of unheard of? I mean I got a lot of shit for marrying Audrey, but that was because they saw her as almost beneath us because my family is full of arrogant dickheads"

"So.... You never saw it as weird to date guys? "

"Not really. I mean there will always be that discomfort at how society views it now, but eventually I just had to decide what was more important. Living as myself and trying to feel happy and comfortable in my own skin, or forcing myself to be just another asshole who pretends to be someone I'm not. And I'm perfectly happy with Audrey, I don't feel like I'm missing anything, but I know I would love her the same if she were a man"

"I... Guess that makes sense.... How did you... Know? "

"That I was bi? "

James nodded, looking away and fiddling with his fingers. Apollo scribbled on a piece of paper for his sake, knowing he was uncomfortable

"I suppose I always did. I always viewed male and female beauty as the same. I saw someone that I found attractive and was interested, not in spite of what gender they were but it wasn't really a contributing factor for me. But a lot of other people took a really long time to realize that they were queer, sometimes not realizing until decades into a marriage. And that's perfectly okay"

"What about their partner? Wouldn't it be really shitty to have that bombed dropped?"

"Not really, depending on who you're with. I told Audrey on our first date that I was Bi just so she was aware, it wasn't important when it came to the way we saw each other but it was something important to me that she knew because it's a part of my identity and how I view my place in the world. Being Bu doesn't make you any more or less likely to cheat than anyone else. Your views on monogamy are different and if polyamory is something you want to explore, that becomes less of a personal thing and more of something you need to discuss with your partner"

"Yeah.... No..... The idea of dating multiple people is super weird to me"

"And that's fine. It's not for me either, but I've dated people who were Poly and the most important thing in any relationship is communication. Especially when it comes to monogamy and sexuality"

"I guess"

"James.... All I can really tell you is you can't help who you are attracted to. You can't get rid of attraction to someone the same way you can't force it on another. Being queer isn't wrong. Sexuality is a spectrum that has always existed throughout history and the animal kingdom and no one is born wrong because of it. That's a modern thing"

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[daisylovestickles]

If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get to that point with your romantic partner that you can play with other members of the community? I’ve told mine about my kink and they’re not interested in incorporating into our relationship or anything (which is fine). Not that I think trust would be an issue, but I can’t figure out a way that saying “hey I want to meet up with strangers I met online and be tied up and tortured” doesn’t sound insane to the average non-t-word-kink person 🫣

Hi anon! Great question!

When I joined the community last year, I was very open about it with my partner from the start. He always knew I liked being tickled (we’ve been together since 2018), but nothing remotely close to something like this. It took a lot of uncomfortable conversations for him to understand what I want out of this, especially since a lot of it would require me to travel and play with others of the opposite gender.

The road has not been easy for the two of us. I was scared to death admitting this part of my life, and he seemed less than pleased at the start. We've had conversations that have lasted hours long because he kept asking questions, and I always reassured him. He knew that at the end of the day, I would always come back to him.

Don't get me wrong, he's questioned himself too. He's wondered on multiple occasions "why can't I just tickle you" or "do I need to join the community as a way to support you". My partner tickles me sometimes, don't get me wrong, but he's been honest about not having as much stamina as a ler, when I've wanted to be tickled for longer periods of time. He just couldn't understand how I'd want to be in that vulnerable position for so long.

When it comes to telling your partner what you want, be honest! Even the smallest lies can lead to detrimental results. If possible, have your partner talk to the ler you want to session with. My partner has talked to or has heard me interact with almost everyone that I've sessioned with, because that builds more trust in our romantic relationship.

I hope this helps!

[etiolatedmutant]

dawg imma just say that it’s unfair to expect a woman to be a whipping dog for her partner who is refusing to pick himself back up for an indefinite period of time

i love wade. i love vanessa. wade is very mentally ill and traumatized - so is nessa. that’s how they bond in the first movie, divesting all the lurid details of their fucked up lives and realizing that it didn’t scare the other away.

sure we see the reasons behind the stuff that wade does bc we’re literally following him throughout the movie, but that doesn’t exempt him from inflicting harm. it’s not cool to unilaterally decide your fiancée isn’t allowed to support you through a cancer diagnosis + treatment and then disappear in the middle of the night with no indication that you’re ever coming back, especially when wade’s abandonment clearly led to ness being forced into an unsavory living situation (“so you live in a house?”). a relationship is a partnership, and nessa is an incredibly capable and strong woman — whether or not wade thought he was protecting her, she’s not a child, and she deserved to know what was going on.

and she forgave him, and they were gonna start a family, and then she was murdered. wade fixed it, of course, but vanessa has no memory or concept of the trauma her death caused, because in the new reality he created, she never died. and so she’s not indebted to him for that, and she’s certainly not obligated to stay with him for the rest of Forever, because no one should remain in a relationship out of obligation instead of love.

this isn’t to say i think she stopped loving him, because she clearly didn’t. she’s still a part of his life, she just can’t be the central figure of it anymore, and that is okay. it’s unfair to expect her to stay when the person she’s trying to build a life with is completely deflated and can’t / won’t get back up no matter what she does or says. vanessa deserves a good life, the same way wade does — they both deserve peace, and maybe that peace is achieved by not being together anymore, and that is okay.

do i think wade was massively depressed after the avengers rejected him and not dealing with it well? yes. do i think he needed support? of course. but there’s only so much support one person can offer you before they grow weary and frustrated, especially if you are not putting in work yourself to get out of your slump. wade is traumatized, not a baby, he still has a responsibility to work on himself and communicate his feelings to the woman he said he wanted to spend his life with.

i love wade, which is why i will criticize his shitty behavior when it crops up, and i love vanessa, which is why i will defend her right to say “enough is enough” and move on, even though it caused wade pain

[karak9]

oh this is fun sorry I didn't see it sooner!! I love ask games <3

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

primarily nonhuman! my plurality also intersects with my alterhumanity personally.

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

...how much time do you have?

tl;dr I'm a polymorph with a fluid identity so my list of kintypes is everchanging and vague. my primary kintypes are elf, dog, and currently deer but more in an archetype way than a super animalistic deer way, but not quite to the point of wanting to label it an archetrope thing! I tend to get identity flickers a lot but also some of my kintypes just gradually change over time. I'll always be elf and dog, though. most of my kintypes/morphtypes are animal but I have 1 fictotype and experience fiction flickers too.

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

yes, though not as often as I did when I first joined the community. my strangest shifts were orca (morphtype or kintype idk) and snake (cameo). imagining moving without limbs/legs is so weird lol. I've heard of people having tree/plant shifts and honestly??? I wanna try that.

my most common shifts are canine. I usually get phantom ears + tail whenever I think about them or sometimes randomly feel them when I'm particularly emotive lol.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

being a nonhuman freak <3

I'm a lil nonhuman with my partner altho he's not nonhuman himself but he totally gets me and we make animal noises at each other and he calls me his pup!

5/ What do you think of the community?

needs some work as pretty much all communities do, but pretty awesome otherwise. I really like how the community is progressing to becoming significantly less gatekeepy and elitist. more nonhumans having fun and playing with their identity please!!! less people shaming others for enjoying being nonhuman or not being nonhuman the """right""" way!!

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

incorporating my identity in fashion, kink, and whatever the term is for how I interact with others- aka I am very dog with my partner and friends. not all of them know I'm otherkin but I'm so thankful puppygirls are becoming more socially acceptable because it makes it a lot easier for me to express myself lol.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

rarely. it was REALLY bad as a teen but has calmed down a lot since growing more comfortable in my nonhumanity and my mental health/environment being better. maybe I lucked out there but man it was awful at the start.

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

if I could give a piece of advice to my younger self it would be: identity is a concept and there is no way to "prove" your experiences. it's literally made up. stop trying to mold yourself to fit a standard that wasn't made for you. just be your weird self.

nowadays I'm not sure if my advice would be different, I feel like a lot has changed in the attitude of the community towards newcomers over the years. I guess just be yourself, as cheesy as that is. there is no wrong way to be you, I promise. there ARE wrong ways you can use labels and if you screw up, that's 1000% okay!!! just be kind and listen to people if they offer you a piece of information you might've not had before.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I have some collars and have had tails in the past but got rid of them when I moved. I'd love to make some more though! I have a pair of ears as well, and some puppygirl aesthetic clothing/shoes lol. I would love some more.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

my personal origin theory is a mix of spiritual and psychological. I believe my kintypes are mostly past lives but the reason I connect with them in my current human life is due to being neglected as a child. I was raised around a lot of dogs so I latched onto them and began seeing myself as one of them from a very young age. I don't think I would have this many kintypes if I wasn't traumatized and mentally ill lmao. I do think I might've still been an elf though, because it's one of my 2 strongest kintypes despite not really having anything that influenced me towards it growing up like with canids. also I think my polymorphism is entirely because I have an unstable sense of self due to bpd/cptsd. might be partially caused by having lived many lives? and being plural.

idk who to tag bc I'm not active on tumblr I forget who is even on here lmao but pls do this if you see it!!! <3

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[weveseenallthegreenery]

Jayce Joins the Party — Mel Medarda seeks out Viktor after discovering her arcane talents.

sfw | part 3 | 2013 words | shortfic | alternate season 2 | loosely edited | kind of spoilers

We had very little to do today and had decided to sleep in. The past few days had been so overwhelming that I just needed a little break, and Viktor pretended that he needed one too so that he could stay with me while I rested. It was sweet. I could tell that he was lying about being a little bit tired too, but that didn’t make me appreciate the fact that he wanted to stay in bed with me any less. He was twirling his finger in the hoop of my earrings as we just sat there and looked at the ceiling.

We still hadn’t talked about what the kiss from the other day meant—although, it had already happened a few times since then. At first, I thought he was just trying to calm me down. That he thought his kiss would distract anyone considering the godly being that he is—that perhaps it was some rather egotistical attempt at shutting me up. However, it seemed like my being upset wasn’t the only situation in which he wanted to kiss me, and I was grateful for that. I would likely have been insulted if I found out otherwise.

I turned onto my side, unintentionally causing him to have to unhook his finger from my jewelry as I attempted to ask, “Viktor, wh—”

Footsteps.

I shot up before I could finish my sentence. Anyone in the commune was welcome to visit Viktor; it was common knowledge. However, something about the presence in the home didn’t feel familiar to the land we walked on. A pit started forming in my stomach as I got up from the bed and sped toward the main area. Someone had to have gotten through the security of the gate—I could feel the presence of a weapon. But I wasn’t sure how that was possible when we had just gotten done maintaining everything a few days earlier.

I walked faster as I tried to make sense of what was going on, barely hearing as Viktor sat up in the bed and called after me, barely recognizing the slow sound of his footsteps as he started to follow me. My direction was so confusing that I hardly knew when my body stopped, hardly registering the face in front of me before the hollowness in my gut lifted. It was Jayce. He was worn down and untrimmed, but it was still Jayce. Not my mother.

“Where’s Viktor?” His voice came out gruffer than it had been in the past. It almost had the raspiness of a long-term smoker. He had to have gone through something terrible for such a shift in accent.

I placed a hand in front of me to tell him to stay where he was as my eyes fell to the hammer in his hands—it, too, looked like it had seen some things it shouldn’t have, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Now isn’t the time for your questions, Mel,” Jayce bit out. I could hear Viktor’s footsteps stop in the background, a respectable distance away from where his partner and I were conversing. “He told me where to find him. I promised him something.”

I brought my hand back to my stomach and idly traced circles along my skin. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to have the break that I had so desperately wanted from today. I sighed, glancing at the floor before settling my gaze on the crease of his brow. “From what he explained to me, you didn’t say much of anything to him… in fact, he suggested that you may be unhappy with him. Is that true?”

“Mel,” he held no hint of sympathy in his voice—no hint of gratitude for any of the things we had done in this space, “Just let me through. This is none of your business.”

I sighed once again before humming, “I’m afraid I can’t let you in here, Jayce. At least, not with that weapon.”

Jayce opened his mouth to argue with me, but before any words could come out, I felt bony fingers wrap around my shoulder as Viktor appeared behind me. I gasped and turned my head. I had assumed that he stopped walking when I could no longer hear his footsteps. Apparently, I was wrong. Apparently, The Herald had a death wish.

“Jayce,” My friend’s voice came with an uncharacteristic softness. He had been gentle and kind to me for the past few weeks that I’d been here, but I had never once heard him sound anything other than neutral. Maybe he had sounded happy once or twice, but nothing like the pure tenderness Jayce’s name held on his tongue. “You have come.”

Jayce held out his hammer and pointed it directly above my shoulder. He didn’t say anything as he started channeling the energy to the head of the weapon. He was going to shoot Viktor without even saying goodbye. I tried to move my hand, tried to hold it out so that I could do something—but Viktor used his free hand to grab onto my own, clearly not wanting me to go through with it. My eyes widened as I looked between the weapon and Viktor. I had to do something. I couldn’t just let this happen… but it didn’t happen.

Jayce sighed and dropped his hammer as he muttered, “Fuck.”

“Do you regret what you have done?” Viktor’s voice was smooth, calm. He showed no hint of anger at the fact that his best friend had just pointed a weapon at him.

Jayce shook his head, slowly dropping to his knees as he brought his hands to his face. He dragged his palms across his cheeks and forehead before locking his fingers into his hair with a frustrated sigh. “You warned me. You told me what would happen, and I…”

“I didn’t know what would happen, Jayce. Not really,” Viktor smiled, walking toward the man before crouching in front of him. “Do I look like I have lost control to you? I have helped the people here. I am doing no harm. All of the good things that I have accomplished are because of you. Because you cared about me enough not to give up on my life.”

Jayce hesitantly looked up, staring at the man in front of him. His voice was shaky, increasing in volume the longer he spoke, “But you don’t understand, Viktor. This won’t last forever. This power won’t always be good. You have to know that. You have to know that you lose a little bit of yourself the further you go, the more you utilize the Hexcore.”

“I do know,” Viktor hummed calmly, pulling Jayce’s face into his chest and rubbing the back of his neck. “But when that time comes, I will die with all of the life that I have preserved. The world you know will not be in danger past the existence of the commune.”

Jayce shook his head even harder but didn’t pull away from his friend, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s back as he mumbled, “No, I’ve seen it. It won’t end that way. It won’t happen like that.”

“The future can always be altered,” I spoke up, not wanting to simply watch the conversation in front of me. “Perhaps Viktor’s life doesn’t always have to end with the world. Perhaps, you weren’t seeing the future but another reality to begin with.”

Jayce hesitated to look up at me, his widening once he noticed the new markings along my flesh, “Why are you here… Why do you look different? Did he do something to you, Mel?”

I crossed my arms and scowled at him, “Don’t even suggest such a thing—of course he would never hurt me. I have awakened. I am one of the arcane.”

“What? No, you’re not,” He completely let go of Viktor, standing abruptly and speeding toward me. Jayce grabbed my face and examined my skin, his eyes still wide. “You never looked like this before. Is that even possible? People are born arcane.”

“People are born arcane, but they are not born with the knowledge of how to control it,” I stated bluntly.

I shook his head and dropped his hands from my face, “I can’t believe this. Is this why you were so supportive of Hextech? You wanted to learn how to utilize your nature through technology? I knew you were using me, but I didn’t know it was for something like this.” He laughed bitterly.

“No,” I kept my voice firm as I grabbed his arm, “Don’t go coming up with assumptions about me based on my heritage, Jayce. I just found out who I was not that long ago. My mother lied about my paternity.”

His gaze softened as he sighed, “Alright. I believe you… but why here?”

“Because Viktor understands me,” I looked over at the scrawnier man, eyes tracing over the greyish purple marks along his skin—beautiful and dead, healed and scarred. The shimmer ran deep within his body just as the arcane did. “We both exist within the same standard now.”

Jayce looked like he wanted to argue but decided against it. He didn’t reach for his weapon again but merely asked, “Can you show me around the commune? I would like to see what the two of you have done.”

_________________________________

After we finished showing Jayce around the commune, we ended up in the garden. I was perched on a log, resting my head on my knee as Jayce mumbled, “I didn’t know that so many diverse life forms could survive down here.”

“That’s because they usually can’t,” Viktor confirmed. “The amount of greenery in the undercity has greatly diminished from the time I was a child—conditions have supposedly improved since the grey, but things have only gotten worse for the people and the environment.”

Jayce stayed quiet for a moment, staring at his reflection in a pool near where I was seated, “Then, how is everything so beautiful here?”

“Hope,” I spoke up. “I wasn’t quite sure how it worked at first, either. I thought that Viktor’s kindness might be a ploy to get me to stay and join his cult… but it was always my choice to come here, and as I helped out a bit more, I saw the way people looked at him. They rely on him. The plants do not have the arcane in them. They are untouched. They are growing simply because of the protective environment, because they are loved and given the will to grow.”

The quiet returned once more. Jayce seemed a lot different from how he was in the past, so ambitious and ready to share a piece of his mind. Now, he seemed hesitant to even breathe in the wrong way—like one wrong move could steal away his lifeforce. And it could, but it wouldn’t. I watched and waited to see what he would do.

Viktor was the one who made the next move, setting his hand on Jayce’s shoulder as he inquired, “Would you like to experience what life in the commune entails?” “I’m not sure that I should do that,” Jayce’s voice came out much quieter than a whisper, although it appeared that wasn’t his intention. “I have responsibilities in Piltover, and I’ve already been gone for far too long… you have responsibilities, too, Mel. You shouldn’t linger here.”

“I will know when they need me,” I smiled at him, patting the spot next to me to encourage him to take a seat.

Viktor let go of Jayce so that the burly man could come and sit next to me. The Herald balled his hand into a fist and coughed into it before declaring, “You will know when they need you, too, Jayce. You do not have to stay forever, but I would like for you to join us just for a few days. We could catch up. It has been awhile since we had a good conversation.”

I nodded, looking into the other man’s eyes. It appeared that he was giving into the pressure before Jayce sighed, “Fine.”

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | smut filler | part 5

[intimacy-between-hearts]

We live in a world where most people feel entitled to make sexual intimacy all about the woman- but the man needs it just as much and there should be balance, in order to properly maintain a healthy relationship with your partner(s).

Ask him how he would like you to touch him and help him feel comfortable when it comes to communicating his needs with you.

[tea-and-secrets]

I'm not sure if this is the right place to confess this, but I really need to get this out of my chest. Feel free to make a post redirecting me to another confessions blog if you'd like, in the meantime I'll just spit out what I wanna say. This will also be a long post, please excuse my ramblings.

on May of this year, a movie from A24 came out called "I Saw The TV Glow", a horror/drama film based on transness created by a transfemme individual. I didn't hear about it when it came out, I haven't seen any trailers or anything, but as soon as it started airing on local theaters on the US, everyone was talking about it. My TikTok FYP kept showing me dozens of videos of trans people crying after they watched the movie, how it was a beautiful touching and anxiety fueled movie that resonated with so many people from the trans community.

I was interested and my expectations were high, I like horror movies and I haven't seen many movies tackling on transgenderism. I told my partner (who doesn't label themself but they sure are every But cis) about the movie and they actually heard about it and was also interested. Since we're a super long distant couple (I live outside of the US while my partner is from there) we couldn't watch it on theaters, but we planned on watching it online at some point.

Well, that "some point" was a week ago. We got on call and watched the movie and... I was kinda disappointed. I didn't Hate the movie, I still think it was good and my partner thought the same, but we didn't see it as a amazing film like so many people were claiming. We both agreed it was a 7/10 movie with a great message, but in the end it was nothing special.

The confession comes from me feeling guilty about this. I feel bad for not liking this movie as much as a trans person compared to every other trans person that loved it. My partner and I read articles about it and even watched videos covering the ending that left us confused and unsatisfied. Later on I searched the movie tag here on Tumblr, and saw many posts of people (trans people) criticizing those who laughed at moments and questioned the movie and started picking it apart after the movie ended instead of staying in silence. I think that's kinda ridiculous considering that was our first reaction to the ending, but apparently everyone on the notes were agreeing with the original posters, even accusing those that did those as "ignorant cis people".

I'm sure people will say: "You didn't like it because you're not a trans woman/trans femme". And you're right about one part: I'm a transmasc non binary person, but that can't be the reason since I've seen trans men and transmascs enjoying and relating/resonating with the movie. "Well clearly You didn't have to hide your identity" I Have to hide my identity to so many of my family members. I can't even get the haircut that I want, I don't have the clothing that will make me feel like im dressing myself, I don't have access to top surgery or testosterone injections. I know who I am, I just can't fully be that person yet. "Maybe you didn't get the message and symbolism" I watched the movie Knowing the symbolism, people on TikTok weren't being really vague about it lol. It's about suppressing your gender identity, suppressing who you truly are and the dangers of doing so. Not transitioning can kill, and Has killed, so many people. No matter who you are or how old you are or where you live, there's still time. There's still time for you to dig out your suppressed identity and turn into your true self. I think the message is Beautiful and So Important, it's just Something in the Execution that didn't work for me, I can't even explain it.

I know that in the end it's not that deep, it's just a movie that a lot of people Love while I just mildly enjoyed. I just wish I cried and adored this movie like everyone else did, I wish I connected to this movie like everyone else did. Maybe one day I will not care about this anymore, but I don't know when this guilt will go away. Hopefully soon.

This is just a me issue btw, my partner feels fine with just finding the movie okay.

.