#this is something I did in my little spare time I gave to myself because oh I HAD to

[ohitslen]

Guess who had a little too much fun with the pathetic reincarnation AU idea :))

To summarize! WW gets reincarnated in a very distant future where humanity is more settled down in the planet. He remembers everything and decides to keep living his life as normally as he is able to. That is until he meets his neighbor when he moved to a new apartment.

(More below the cut)⬇️

He was an absolute weirdo of a guy who looked just like Vash in so many ways yet was so different in many others at the same time.

He pretends that his system isn’t going haywire every time he is around the man, the one that resembles someone he cared for so deeply in a life that wasn’t his but remembers all too well. He decides to pretend he doesn’t know Vash because he really doesn’t, not this one at least.

Meanwhile, Vash is going through a very trippy existential crisis for seeing Wolfwood again after what felt like dozens of centuries. This could clearly not be him however because, well, he knows why. So he pretends not to know him because wouldn’t that be weird if he acted like he did?

They avoid each other like the plague, the beautiful and horrible emotions that swarmed on their insides too much to bear just by the presence of the other. They could slip at any moment so it was better to evade the neighbor.

The thing here is, that life has never gone how they want it since ever.

[sightseertrespasser]

Sunny Side Screw-Up part 2

Me: Hey, what if Bluestreak was a great sniper because Tacnet enabled him to view the world in slow motion, kinda like bullet time?

Later me: Wait, what if he experienced Bullet Time All the Time and THAT’s why he’s like that?

The mecha AU was spawned by @keferon, go check ‘em out!

———————————————————————

For hours, Prowls processor continued to spiral well after Jazz disconnected the drift bond. The steady crackle from Bluestreaks currently inactive comm lines did little to settle him.

Individually, Prowl curled each of his digits, then released. The fingers Ratchet replaced were still numb. But the phantom pains stayed sharp.

“Hey.” A hoarse whisper at his hip got Prowl to online his optic.

“You should be resting, Jazz.” The Praxian whispered back. If Ratchet saw them both up the doctor would likely make good on some of his threats. Or Deadlock would.

“I’m gonna.” The human leaned against his side, shoulders wrapped in a spare blanket.

“You’re lying.” Prowl stated as flatly as if he’d pointed out Jazz was bipedal.

“Hmm, just getting it out of my system so you know I’m gonna be serious next.” When the pilot moved to climb up Prowl’s thigh, he gave him a slight boost with one servo. Weak as Prowl was, Jazz still weighed basically nothing.

“Ratchet said you already pushed past your limits for the day. I do not think it’d be wise to reconnect right now.” Prowl watched Jazz for every minute tremble, delicately adjusting the plane of his servo to support him as evenly as possible.

“We pushed it today. And s’alright. Wasn’t going for that.” Jazz laid back in Prowls palm, getting comfortable.

Given the pattern of their past interactions, Prowl preemptively readjusted to lay down on as well, before Jazz could begin guilting/bargaining/tricking him into resting properly.

Jazz, knowingly, smiled.

“I know you’re scared for him. But Bluestreak is gonna be fine Prowler. He’s got you, and you’ve got us.”

“I had myself and you and I still got vivisected.” It was a low blow and still a raw wound for the both of them. His missing platting stung.

Jazz closed his eyes. Prowl could still hear the echos of what thoughts that would be racing through his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. This is a nightmare scenario and I can’t believe you aren’t completely loosing your shit right now.” A sour note came through his field. “I just don’t want you to fry yourself with worrying.”

Prowl sighed, “I have come to terms with our current limitations. The plan currently underway is definitely the best chance we can possibly give him.”

“I do not have enough information to predict how the Twins will conduct themselves..” Prowl briefly paused to send a scheduled Check In ping to Bluestreak. Continuing once he received the Return ping.

“But I know my brother, and that’s what has me worried.” Despite himself, Prowl felt his face almost twitch a smile when Jazz’s EM field chimed against his palm. He could feel the human silently laugh.

“Little brothers are something else, but have a little faith in him okay? Bluestreak just needs to play it cool until we can debrief the Twins. He doesn’t even have to actually lie. All he needs to do is walk and shoot, and I’ve seen him shoot.”

Jazz rolled onto his side to face Prowl, who still frowned but was coming around.

“Look, it took me nearly two days to figure out I was literally surrounded by aliens who weren’t even trying to hide it.”

“You had a concussion.” Prowl grumbled.

“And I’m a very clever fucker.” Jazz raised a pointed finger.

The human snuggled back into his blanket, “Never in a million years is anyone just gonna guess he’s an alien shaped like a mecha.”

Prowl hummed in assent, choosing to let his systems wind down, save for his Comms.

Yawning, Jazz finished his thought, “The only way they’d find out he’s from space is if Bluestreak straight up told them.”

———————

“And that star cluster is about where Cybertron is!”

The fading red-gold of the sunset had given way to dusty dark blue twilight. This far from any civilization, the stars did not shy from taking the stage early, casting the desert in a cool toned glow.

Sideswipe looked where he was pointing and nodded along. Sunstreaker likewise examined the sky for a moment before continuing their trek.

“You guys are good listeners.” The Praxian smiled.

Bluestreak shifted how he was holding his rifle for the nth time that afternoon. “I wish I could just subspace this but Jazz said that would be too openly weird and you guys might try tearing my hip apart.”

Unsurprisingly, Sunstreaker showed no sudden comprehension of Bluestreak’s native language. The yellow mecha was too preoccupied with digging out a quint fang from his plating. Similarly unaware, Sideswipe had found a small boulder and played an improvised game of how long he could kick it along their path.

Bluestreak checked his Tacnet Dilation: 25%.

“Did you know I taught Prowl and Smokescreen how to use Tacnet to shoot better? Cause I did. They taught me pretty much everything else though about how to function. They’re my brothers by the way, which is kinda funny to think about since you guys are brothers too but ‘organic brothers’ are kinda different from ‘Cybertronian brothers’. We’re all Cold Constructs designed by the same people but that doesn’t actually have anything to do with being brothers.” With family on his processor, the Praxian flicked a ‘Hey guys!’ out of habit without thinking. He didn’t notice the twins simultaneously pause for a second beside him.

“The word translates directly into English but I think the origins are totally different. A literal translation of “Brothers” in Cybertronian would be something like “Those who are most familiar to me.”

He counted the decimal points of each passing click to pace himself. Making sure he was talking at a socially acceptable level. After 4 clicks, his will broke down and the gap of silence was filled.

“Hey want to hear how we met?” Bluestreak looked up at the hulking mechas with wide optics, questioning tone riding through the air.

The twins looked at each other briefly before shrugging.

Aside from his brothers, mechs that knew his particular reputation would take that pause in his chatting as an escape route from the conversation.

Bluestreak understood. It’s why he tried to leave gaps in. He scuffed his peds in the dirt while waiting for a response.

A curled servo came into his peripheral vision. With a little difficulty, Sunstreaker gave him a crude thumbs up, his mecha not really built for fine motor controls.

“Really?” Bluestreak beamed, checking in with Sideswipe as well who was also nodding in the positive.

The Praxian began his tale, “So it happened a little under two million years ago.”

——————

The crowd around the train station moved in a tightly packed slow motion torrent.

“-taken at specified slots-“

“-one hundred and fifty shanix is-“

“-consult the map if she really-“

Words, sentences, broken paragraphs and contradictory orders buzzed across his processor. His internal dictionary pulling up definitions and explanations almost too fast to keep up with.

Tacnet Dilation: Increase to 75%?

Huh?

[Yes]?

Oh!

That’s so much better.

If he picked out one voice at a time, he could decipher each glyph as they came and string it together. Mildly entranced by how they interlocked and changed the information they carried as it dripped into his echoing memory banks.

For example:

“Get out of the way you useless cop!”

An upward swing from behind struck him, jamming his doorwings at the apex of their mobility.

The mech would have fallen forward if the density of the crowd allowed it. They stumbled, struggling to stay upright as the mass of mechs around him pushed inexorably toward the trains.

New information came through. Bright boxes burst across his vision and new words wrote themselves on his processor. This new sensory input was competing with every other piece of stimulus for his immediate attention.

He didn’t like it.

What is it?

[Pain]

Oh, is this a setting that can be changed?

[Pain - Repair - Reset- Doorwing (1)]

[Pain - Repair - Reset - Doorwing (2)]

How? How do I fix them?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

I don’t understand?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

The logic branch repeated incessantly, almost as bad as the distraction of the pain itself.

The praxian began asking every mech who passed nearby how to reset his doorwings. Sometimes, they’d kindly tell him they couldn’t help. Other times they’d push him off harshly, fields flashing with hostility. One even told him to go jump on the tracks. Before he could actually consider how that’d help, an orange mech scolded the harsh one and pulled the praxian to where they could speak into his audial.

They told him they couldn’t fix his problem, but if he found other mechs with doorwings like his, they would help him.

“How do I find them?”

The orange mech adjusted a pair of spectacles, smiling, “Just listen to your wings young one, you’ll get there.”

It was then he realized something else was coming through the sensor net of his doorwings. A muffled, irregular pulsing, coming from one of the train cars.

He forgot to thank the skinny mech and pushed through the crowd, past the overwhelmed conductor.

Reduced Sensory Input, Tacnet Dilation: Decrease to 25%?

[Yes]

The inside of the train car was packed, no one would be leaving without numerous scraps and dents by the end of their journey. He tried not to flinch every time a passenger bumped into his back with very little success. Spurred on by pain and desperation, the Praxian pushed rudely past the other passengers who each added new and exciting expletives to his steadily growing lexicon.

He followed the signals like a lifeline to the back of the train.

Two Praxian enforcers sat side by side, doorwings flicking intermittently. Both of them leaned forward with their elbows on their knees, either from the exhaustion clearly written across their faces or simply because the bench they sat on wasn’t made to accommodate the extra limbs on their backs.

One was blue with a yellow chevron, lazily leaking smoke to pool against the ceiling. Seemingly absorbed in people watching.

{ ···· · -·--     ·--· --··--     ··· · ·     - ···· ·     --- -· ·     ·-- ·· - ····     - ···· ·     ···- ·· ··· --- ·-· ··--·· }

The other was monochrome save for a bright red chevron, scanning the crowd with a critical optic, locking onto his approach.

{ ··     ·-· · --· ·-· · -     - · ·-·· ·-·· ·· -· --·     -·-- --- ··-     ·- -· -·-- - ···· ·· -· --· }

{ ·· ’ --     ···· · ·-·· ·--· ·· -· --· }

{ ··- -· -·- -· --- ·-- -·     · -· ··-· --- ·-· -·-· · ·-·     ·- ·--· ·--· ·-· --- ·- ---- ·· -· --· }

The praxians straightened, the blue one offering a casual smile and a welcoming field.

“Hey there! Can we help you?”

He almost crashed to the floor, stumbling to stand before them.

“Yes! Yes! Hello! I need help! I’ve been trying to find someone to help with my doorwings for what feels like forever but everyone I’ve talked to has told me to go away or go frag myself or go ask someone else and then somebody told me to come in here or really they actually told me to follow my doorwings which was actually kinda hard because they hurt a lot and all the warnings I’m getting are making it kinda hard to focus on anything and nobody has let me finish talking the entire time!”

The optics of the black and white praxian got steadily wider as he spoke, taking in the information with an otherwise motionless posture.

The blue one took it in stride, waving him to get closer, “Alright, c’mere and turn around real quick.”

Gratefully, he followed the clear instructions and did just that.

The blue one hummed, “Oh that’s an easy fix.”

His doorwings twinged in their slots at the feeling of the mechs servos on his back. “Sorry, this’ll pinch a little.” And with two practiced twists, the mech braced one servo against his back and popped the hinges back in place.

He hissed at the initial sting but relief immediately flooded his sensor net.

“Is the Doorwing injury related to why you are covered in ash?” The monochrome mech spoke for the first time.

“Hmm? Oh no, someone just ran into me from behind. He was yelling something about useless cops?” He could see the irises of the praxians optics cycling as he spoke. The mechs mouth thinned to a line as his brow furrowed.

The other didn’t seem to notice, laughing heartily, “Oh trust me that’s not the last time you’ll hear that. Next time call your squad in to book the guy for assault on an officer. You new here?”

He smiled, doorwings fluttering involuntarily at being asked a non clinical question for the first time ever. “Yes! I’m very new! Everything is so new! Who are you two?”

Something clicked for the other mech. Doorwings drooping, “Um, Smokescreen?”

The blue mech, Smokescreen, ignored him. Instead, he wrapped an arm around the mechs shoulders and pulled him in, “Well this here is my little brother Prowl, I promise he’s slightly less of a stick in the gears than he first appears. We’d show you around our precinct, but it kinda burnt down this morning.”

“Smokescreen.” Prowl hissed.

“So what’s your designation and your placement new guy?” Smokescreen beamed at him with a sooty grin.

“My designation is P-E 2102. Aaaand the building I was being tested in caught fire, so I have no idea!” He rocked on his peds.

Smokescreen gave him a slightly curious once over.

Meanwhile, Prowl crossed his arms and looked unimpressed with his older brother.

Prowl turned back to him, “A follow up question, if you are able to answer, P-E 2102. When were you constructed?”

He checked his memory banks, “Two cycles ago!”

Smokescreen choked, coughing up a small cloud of exhaust. Prowl automatically thumped a servo against his back to help.

“Right.” The elder Praxian recovered, coughing into his fist and straightening up again. “So you’re two cycles old huh? That explains.. some things.”

Unconsciously, P-E 2102 pulled his doorwings in, not yet knowing what to call the awkward energy that spilled into the train car. The only mech seemingly unaffected was Prowl.

“Typically, once you make it through Quality Control a mech is assigned to act as your mentor to answer questions and bring you up to speed on how to function in society.” Prowl glanced at his brother. “Their designation should be tagged with your factory designation. We’ll assist in contacting them for your retrieval.”

Internally, P-E 2102 pulled his factory designation back up, and did indeed find what Prowl was talking about.

“Oh okay, it looks like I’m assigned to someone named Barricade?” He smiled again, happy to have a clear path forward after so much uncertainty. The two older Praxians immediately, silently looked at each other.

Optics wide, Smokescreen gave him a massive showman style grin, announcing loud enough for the whole train to hear, “Nooope!”

“Um, what?” He new forge looked confused, optics flitting between the two of them.

The eldest praxian nudged Prowl to scoot over. “Nope!” He clapped his servos on his knees for emphasis. “That is not happening. You’re actually going to be my ward now. Last minute update. You know how office work gets.”

“This is a terrible idea.” Prowl grumbled but still moved to make room. “You aren’t qualified to mentor more than one ward. You wouldn’t even be my mentor if the Council hadn’t lowered the age requirement.”

Smokescreen patted the new space between them, “Go ahead and take a seat newbie. And Prowl? C’mon. You haven’t needed me for literal vorns.”

He squeezed into the space between them. It took a bit to figure out how to overlap their doorwings, but once they folded together, the new forge felt more secure than he’d ever been in his life.

Which wasn’t very long but still.

“First things first, you need a proper des.” Smokescreen poked him in the chassis. Briefly frowning at the grime left on his digit. “And a proper paint job.”

“Oh can I be red? I think I like red. And orange. And yellow. I like warm tones in general really. But I think just red for now.” He pointed up at Prowls chevron for reference.

“It is a striking color.” Prowl nodded sagely. “It will suit you fine, though I request you do not completely copy my appearance to avoid future confusion.”

He hummed, already considering the ash grey covering his plating. He didn’t think it looked too bad actually.

“We’ll get the paint sorted later, now how about a proper name? I don’t believe in assigning one over your own choice, so you gotta pick.”Smokescreen leaned back, not giving away any clues of what options laid before him.

“Hmm.” He studied the signage outside the train. “Something with blue in it?”

“Blue?” Prowl raised an eye ridge. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to be painted red?”

“Well yeah. I like the color red but I like the word blue.” He said rationally and sensibly.

Prowl could find no argument and accepted the information for what it was.

Smokescreen tapped his shoulder. “Gonna need something a little more complex than just Blue, buddy. It’s a pretty popular des.”

“Oh how about Blueline!”

A few eavesdroppers snorted at the announcement, a small wave of mirth echoing around the mostly reserved fields of the crowd.

There was a long pause.

“That.. is the name of the train we are currently riding.” Prowl slowly pointed out.

“Ah.”

Voice an octave higher, Smokescreen gave a slightly pained albeit encouraging grin. “Yeeeah. Maybe try one more time?”

The young mech rested his chin on his servos, rapidly tapping his digits. “Is Blue streak taken?”

Prowl and Smokescreen considered the name. Internally, Prowl scanned over something for a moment. “I do not see any other registrations for that designation. It is indeed available.”

“Then Bluestreak it is!” Proclaimed Smokescreen, who clapped a servo around Prowls far shoulder, squishing Bluestreak between them.

Bluestreak whooped, sirens he didn’t know he had briefly going off before Prowl rushed to teach him how to turn them back down.

With a sense of finality, the train at last closed its doors and pulled out of Praxus. Bluestreak watched the skyscrapers dance in streams of gold and red.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

The sounds of the train car moved treacle slow. Bluestreak turned to his new brothers and in a voice that sounded strangely deep to his own audials, asked them “Why is Praxus burning?”

They glanced at each other again, passing silent communication born of familiarity. When he eventually spoke, Bluestreak could hear the buzz of Smokescreens vocalizer activating the click before the consonants of his words rumbled forward like distant thunder, “There’s a war, a civil war. We’re still deciding where to go.”

“Can I come?” The question came so easily.

A pause that lasted a thousand years crawled by, as the train swept into a long dark tunnel with no clear end.

“Yeah.” Smokescreen said, “You can come.”

——————

“And to make a long story short, we ended up joining the Decepticons because well, the Functionalist Council kinda claimed all surviving CC Praxian Enforcers as ‘Government Property’.” Bluestreak made quotations with his digits.

Not for the first time, Bluestreak glanced at his audience. It was difficult to read the twins, Sunstreaker especially, but Bluestreak thought he was starting to get a hold of their personalities.

He vaguely remembered Jazz saying he had an unusually high affinity for piloting mecha, and hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now that he was spending time with “regular” pilots, Bluestreak couldn’t help but stare at the stark difference.

Jazz made it work, easily translating laid back body language and a friendly demeanor through several tons of non living machinery.

But the twins? There were times when the Twins reminded him of Empurata victims, their fine movements unnaturally stunted and their incredibly restricted means of self expression coming off as awkward at best. Drone like at worst.

And yet, like clouds passing through an Uncanny Valley, Bluestreak would see bits of their true selves slip out.

For example, the three of them had just come up to a broad shallow stream running across the sandy earth. Sunstreaker stalked right up to the shore, knelt down to dip a cupped hand into water and wasted no time in splashing it across his plating. While his brother attempted to clean himself of the filth they’d accumulated from the day, Sideswipe pointedly looked Bluestreak in the optics and raised a single finger to his visor.

Bluestreak tilted his helm, understanding the meaning of gesture but not the why.

Casually admiring the scenery, Sideswipe tiptoed behind his brothers back, hands clasped in the picture of nonchalant innocence.

And then kicked him square in the back.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

BLUESTREAK: [Uh Prowl?]

Abruptly flattened face first into the sand, Sunstreaker raised one arm and punched into the earth beneath the stream. He rose with a measured, predatory speed.

BLUESTREAK: [Not an emergency. I think.]

Regardless, the Praxian still backed away from the beach. Tacnet stretching out the clicks for Prowl to answer into wisp thin strands of time.

BLUESTREAK: [But please still respond.]

Sideswipe made a show of pointing a finger at his brother while almost doubled over. Frame absolutely shaking with silent laughter.

PROWL: [I’m here. What is it?]

Whip fast, a clawed hand fisted itself around Sideswipes collar, yanking him off his feet. The red mecha vanished, reappearing on the opposite bank, laying prone in a brand new crater.

BLUESTREAK: [So the twins are fighting.]

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Bluestreak watched as Sideswipes arms rotated backwards, punching off the earth with explosive momentum and launching himself towards the yellow mecha.

In a clear display of practice, Sunstreaker caught him with a shoulder to the chest, slamming his brother back first into the water with enough force to make it rain.

PROWL: [Each other?]

BLUESTREAK: [Yep.]

Sideswipe twisted his waist around almost 90 degrees and suddenly had the leverage to dig his clawed feet into the ground, flipping Sunstreaker back into the water.

Tacnet held steady at 100% dilation, slowing the fight to a pace that Bluestreak could actually follow. To anyone else, it’d be a blur of red and yellow plating churning through indecipherably dense sprays of water droplets.

Once, back on the Lost Light, Bluestreak had asked Prowl what was it that drew him to Jazz. Prowl, naturally, gave a highly clinical answer, “Jazz is highly competent. Tacnet likes competence.”

Of course, Bluestreak made fun of him at the time for hiding his feelings behind his battle computer.

But uh.

He was kinda getting it now.

Every awkward gesture, every stilted performance at normal body language from before evaporated instantaneously. There wasn’t a hundred feet of separation between their hands and their brains anymore, the pilots filled their mecha out to the very finger tips. Swift and precise and alive.

To Tacnet, these weren’t machines anymore, but men.

Very competent men.

PROWL: [This is apparently normal behavior for them. Keep your distance and wait it out.]

Bluestreak nearly dropped his rifle, juggling it in slow motion as his frame struggled to move as fast as his processor.

BLUESTREAK: [Yep got it.]

BLUESTREAK: [Will be observing closely.]

BLUESTREAK: [From a distance.]

BLUESTREAK: [I’ll be observing closely from a distance I mean.]

BLUESTREAK: [I am completely fine.]

By the time he’d pinned the stock against his chassis, he’d sent Prowl about half a dozen more messages, all following in a continuously self correcting pattern.

PROWL: [Bluestreak. Paragraphs please.]

He reeled Tacnet back to the standard 25% dilation and watched the fight continue at normal speed. Occasionally, Bluestreak noticed one of their visors would turn his way before snapping back to focus on pummeling each other into the ground

Are they watching to make sure I didn’t leave? Or… are they watching to make sure I’m watching?

When they were younger, Smokescreen would sometimes get a hold of fuzzy holovids of old gladiator fights, (or questionably sourced security footage) and drag Prowl and him to his hab suite to watch. On a purely superficial level, he claimed it was for “Tacnet training” and taught them both how to zero in on hundreds of little tells that’d determine who’d the winner of the match would be right from the opening move.

They played a game where whoever correctly guessed the outcome of the match first would be the winner. Bonus points for predicting the correct finishing move. Prowl and Smokescreen would get ridiculously competitive. Or rather, Smokescreen always won and it drove Prowl up the wall. Years later, Smokescreen would whisper what the secret was to him over a bottle of high grade: Prowl never considered not all mechs fight to win.

This was a performance.

Every blow the twins traded landed on the thickest parts of their armor. The flashing exposures of their most delicate components were brief but frequent, always left untouched.

His digits twitched where he held the rifle.

Two targets (moving, distracted) within close firing range. Estimated reaction time: 2.2 clicks. Estimated time between shots: 1.4 clicks.

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 25%

Bluestreak turned up his ventilations and stamped down on Tacnet, blocking out anymore suggestions by tunelessly humming some random jingle he’d heard about a million years ago.

Eventually, the fight wound down on its own without a winner. Sunstreaker helped Sideswipe up, and that was that.

Watching the two stomp out of the water, Bluestreak raised a thumbs up, “You guys good?”

The twins responded in the affirmative, each giving the other one last shove before resuming their flanking positions beside the sniper. Setting out once more.

Several hours later, the stars had dimmed as the sky turned powder blue.

The broad flat expanse of the rocky desert begged to be raced across. The variation in the terrain with its short stoney shelves and dried river bed roads would have been fantastic tracks for a spur of the moment race.

If I was allowed to that is.

The sand and grit from the environment was starting to grind uncomfortably in his joints. His peds ached more from the knowledge that he didn’t need to walk than from the physical exertion of the hike itself.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly would you guys react if I turned into a car right now?” He panted, keeping careful watch of his coolant levels as the sun rose over the horizon. “Like a five maybe? A five seems about right for the situation.”

The twins simultaneously stopped.

Bluestreaks doorwings flicked nervously, “Is this your way of saying it’s a three?”

Steadily, Sideswipe lowered into a low crouch, vents hissing steam and visor going dark. There was a subtle click of joints locking into place.

Sunstreaker picked a rocky shelf and sat, keeping both of them in his line of sight

BLUESTREAK: [The twins are doing something weird and new. Sunstreaker is just watching but Sideswipe is squatting for some reason and it looks like he just went into recharge?]

While Bluestreak worried the inside of his cheek, Sunstreaker waved at him and patted the stone by his side.

Hesitantly and not wanting to potentially offend the alien hunter, Bluestreak took the offered seat. Thankfully, Sunstreaker seemed mollified by this and went back to staring at the horizon.

PROWL: [Ratchet says it sounds like they’re taking shifts resting. Given the length of time you’ve been traveling together, they may expect you to “power down” for a while as well.]

BLUESTREAK: [So what you’re saying is I have to fake being in recharge while sitting upright, outdoors in the sun and in heavily implied to be quint infested territory?]

PROWL: [Yes.]

BLUESTREAK: [Great. Awesome. Thank you. This is totally fine.]

PROWL: [I’m sorry.]

Okay now that was a red flag.

Angry Prowl meant “There is a problem and I will not physically stop until it is obliterated.”

Apologetic Prowl meant even he couldn’t deal with the problem.

The sheer scale of how fucked he was finally set in.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Tacnet Dilation: 225%

Time curled up into a little ball on the floor.

The only thing that stopped Tacnet from going past 300% was a wedged in bit of coding Bluestreak had forcibly added after a truly nightmarish near death experience at 500% dilation.

Logically, he knew he still had control over his frame, but the sheer delay in response felt like he was paralyzed.

Don’t force it. Don’t force it. Don’t force yourself to move, everything you try to do will add to the queue and it’ll hit all at once.

He wished Sunstreaker could talk, Bluestreak couldn’t deal with silence. Silence was like trying to keep track of passing time by staring at a blank wall. At least when there was noise, the pitch could clue him in and keep his mind semi tethered to the actual rate of things happening around him.

The dinks of his digits curling against his servos finally registered from when he started the motion all the way back when Prowl said he was sorry.

The faint pressure just was enough to start his thought process again.

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 200%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Feeling spread back into his frame as sensory input raced back to his processor. From Bluestreaks perspective, it felt like he’d just lunched forward, helm between his knees. From the outside it probably just looked like a slow miserable curl.

He tried not to purge.

When his doorwings picked up on movement from Sunstreaker, he froze. Hyperaware of how bizarre his behavior must look.

A heavy hand not designed for anything other than ripping and tearing settled between his doorwings, lightly patting.

Bluestreak chanced a glance at the yellow mecha. Sunstreakers visor was as impassive as ever but with his unoccupied hand he raised an “OK” symbol, tilting his head inquisitively.

Letting his vents run at max, Bluestreak swallowed, raising an “OK” back.

“I’m gonna go ahead and pretend to be unconscious now. Thanks for not killing me so far.”

Bluestreak crossed his arms and dimmed his optics, flaring out his doorwings to compensate for the drop in input.

To execute his performance as an unfeeling empty husk of machinery, Bluestreak clenched his jaw and vowed not to speak or move for the next several hours.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

Or however long it felt like.

———————————————————————

Jazz: “So if you use Tacnet to crunch the numbers on crazy complicated battle simulations, and Bluestreak uses his Tacnet to pull off insane sniper moves, what does Smokescreen use his for?”

Prowl: “Gambling.”

——————

Cybertronian ages are weird and don’t really align to human developmental rates but I do roughly equate 1 millennia to about a decade in human years.

So Prowl is in his late twenties, Smokescreen is in his thirties and Bluestreak can legally buy alcohol, depending on the country.

Also, Prowl and Smokescreen don’t know about the constant time dilation Bluestreak lives with. It was an experimental feature that got turned on for testing and when Bluestreaks factory got blown up there was nobody around to disable it.

Sometime after they started living together, he asked Smokescreen what Tacnet Dilation actually was, and Smokescreen basically just went “Oh yeah that thing. Yeah just don’t touch it and you’ll be fine.” Not knowing it was already on.

As far as Bluestreak is aware, 25% is “normal speed” because that’s the lowest setting.

-SSTP

[mackk122]

Tittle : First time (part 1).

Part.2

Pairing~Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 5k.

Warnings~ none :)

Summary~ Younger Sister to the twin Emperors.As you are forced to sit and watch the games, a certain gladiator catches your attention.

Notes: This is just a build up to the next part. Raw, next question…

.·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·.

As I sat there awaiting my brother’s speech to announce the general, my mind wandered off searching in the crowd.

‘How could so many people sit here and enjoy these brutal games?’ I thought, I could hear the commotion but cared less of what was being spoken.

Still lost in my thoughts I jumped at a hand being placed on my shoulder- it was Lucilla.

“And where does the mind of the young princess of Rome, wander off to?” She spoke softly smelling the little bundle of flowers in her hand.

“Ah, just thinking about the games” I gave a fake smile. I had to be cautious about what I said or did, for my twin brothers didn’t take criticism lightly.

She smiled and gave a soft nod, understanding where I was coming from. All of the sudden the sound of horns and the crowd’s cheers erupted, drawing me out of my mind. The gladiators all came out, these men which have not felt peace since before their homes were taken.

I noticed very quickly a young man in the center of them, from what I could see he was a natural born leader, and very handsome. He commanded the gladiators as if it were his own personal army, when he moved they moved at his discretion. As the game went on I could barely stomach the man getting throw into the pillar. I turned away only for Caracalla to speak.

“Sister you must watch, isn’t it magnificent?” He grinned devilishly. I didn’t respond, for fear I would vomit because of the gore.

“YOUR EMPEROR IS SPEAKING TO YOU!” He shouted staring at me as if I was the crazy one.

“Brother! Our sister doesn’t mean to offend, remember it is but her first time sitting here to watch” Geta replied calming our brother down. As Caracalla turned back around amused at the center of the arena, Geta gave me a warning look.

As all of this was happening the rhino then slammed into the wall, and the two gladiators began to fight. My stomach began to turn, I prayed the man I saw earlier would not be slain.

As he fell to the ground and the bigger man stood above him asking the crowd for mercy or death, my heart sank.

The crowd began to cheer ‘Mercy’, and my brother stood to his feet, he turned to Lucilla who looked as if she was terrified for this man’s life.

“Shall I spare him?” Geta asked.

“Yes!” I shouted before Lucilla could answer her face slightly confused.

“Spare him” she spoke strongly to the Emperor.

With his body now facing the crowd and arm stretched out, he began to speak the words muffled in my head only focusing to the stranger on the ground, the crowd cheered and I looked up to see he had granted him mercy, I took a breath of relief.

“No mercy! I would rather die by the sword than receive mercy from the Roman’s!” Lucius shouted as he was on his hands and knees.

My eyes widened and I turned to Lucilla, she equally fearful for this young man. And they began to fight again, this time Lucius took victory. The crowd erupted into applause at the sight of this gladiator. He looked up into where we were sitting, and our eyes locked for a moment before he walked out of the arena.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

“Lucilla” I said softly, catching up to her and the general. She turned to me with a soft smile but I knew something was wrong.

I pulled her into a hug, “That man, who is he?” I whispered in her ear. The manner of tone she used for him to be spared, was almost as if she’d known him.

“I’m afraid I know not what you speak” she spoke back pulling away. “Princess” she nodded and they continued to walk.

‘There is something she knows’ I thought to myself. I began to walk back to my brothers only for them to have left me at the colosseum.

“Fantastic” I breathed out.

“Ah, Princess” Macrinus spoke.

“Oh!” I turned stunned, not expecting him to be there. “Your gladiator is really something, what was his name?” I smiled.

Macrinus gave a sly look before responding, “He goes by Hanno…” he looked at me head turned slightly, “huh… princess” he said before leaving.

‘Hanno..’ I thought and a small smile appeared on my lips. ‘I will meet this man’ I thought to myself determined to speak to him.

.·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·.

As Lucius sat at the table getting stitched up, his mind kept wandering to the woman, behind the Emperors.

“What is on your mind gladiator?” Ravi asked him.

“That woman… not the generals wife- the other one, she is the princess… correct?” He asked staring at him.

“Yes… and why do you care?” Ravi smiled his brow raised. Lucius gave a look before it turned into a smile. Macrinus appeared

From around the corner congratulating him.

“Keep doing well and you’ll get what you want” he spoke.Lucius stopped him before he walked away.

“I want to meet the princess as well” he said stern. Macrinus chuckled and continued to walk.

[keirareidss]

hii !! can i request like, a mid-seasons (think like reid jesus hair era) reid x bau!reader, where she’s sick or injured and hotch won’t let her go on the next case, so spencer gives her his credit card and tells her to go shopping instead, like a fluff/comfort/slightly suggestive! (i tried to write this but i got tired like halfway through and gave up </3)

i like this one! It ended up being just a lil blurb cause i've been sick lately and I haven't had much time to write but I wanted to get something out for you guys :)

wc: 1.0k

"This isn't fair!" You followed Hotch out of his office as he headed towards the conference room. You were lagging behind slightly because of your limp, but that didn't stop your determination. Hotch had called you into his office to let you know that you weren't coming on the next case.

"It's the logical decision. You're injured and I can't take that risk." He said, striding into the conference room, you not far behind him.

"I'm fine! I got my cast off last week."

"That doesn't mean you're fully healed. You need time to regain strength. It'd be on me if something went wrong." Hotch said, sparing you a glance as he sat at the conference table, half of the team already seated.

"Hotch, you can't-"

"My decision is final." He said firmly, flipping open the file in front of him. You huffed and made your way back to your desk, slumping into your chair with a frown.

"What's up with you, pouty?" Spencer teased as he set a cup of coffee on your desk, just how you like it.

"Hotch is benching me." You grumbled as your boyfriend leaned against your desk, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, I'm sorry, angel. But you know, it's for your own good. If you get injured again, you'll have to stay out even longer."

"I know that. But I'm not that... careless. I know how to take care of myself."

"I know you do." He took one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. "But things happen. It's not about your carelessness, it's about the chance of something happening to you that's out of your control And those chances are higher when you're injured." You sighed, knowing he was right. He always was.

"How about this..." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. You tilted your head, confused as he plucked out his credit card, holding it between to fingers as he held it out to you. "You take yourself shopping instead of thinking about the case and tonight, we can face time and you can show me everything you bought."

"Really?" You asked and he nodded, grinning.

"Yes. Take it." He said, urging the card towards you and you took it from his hand, smiling giddily. It's not like this was an uncommon occurrence, Spencer did love to spoil you, but the way he liked to do it was by purchasing thoughtful gifts for you, things he'd seen you looking at, things you'd been talking about wanting. Rarely did he set you loose with his credit card. He knew you weren't irresponsible with money but he liked to see the look on your face when he bought you something. In this case, he knew you needed some cheering up.

"Thank you, Spencer." You smiled, standing up to plant a kiss on his lips. He grinned against you, raising a hand to cup your jaw before pulling away and looking down into your eyes.

"Of course. Just as long as you go back to that store you took me to last time." He said, a small blush rising on his cheeks. You grinned.

"The lingerie store?" You asked and he nodded.

"Deal." He set another kiss on your lips before heading to the conference room.

"Can you hear me?" Spencer's voice came through your phone which was propped up on your dresser. He was sitting at the desk in his hotel room, hundreds of miles away.

"Yes, I can hear you. Are you ready?" You asked, grinning as you held both sides of your robe together. You were giving him a little fashion show of all the things you'd bought.

"Ready!" You pulled your robe open with a flourish, showing off the matching skirt and blouse set.

"Do you like it?" You did a little twirl in front of your phone.

"It's pretty." Spencer commented. "You look really good in that." He could see your blush through the screen and that made him feel even more delighted. You showed off more of your shopping haul, a few jackets, some shoes, a couple nice tops and some jewelry before you made it to the one he'd been waiting for.

"Alright, here's the first one." You came back into frame, wearing the first lingerie set you'd bought with his credit card. It was a black sheer bralette, with matching lacy panties and stockings to go with it. Spencer nearly had a heart attack.

"Wow, that's- uh, that one's pretty." He rasped before clearing his throat and shifting in his chair.

"Just pretty? You don't have anything else to say about it?"

"Um... I like the color?" He tried and you laughed.

"Alright, just wait until you see the next one." You went and changed into a deep purple set that had a skimpier bra but also an attached garter belt. When you stepped back into frame, you heard a choked gasp from your phone. "Do you like this one?"

"Yeah, I- I really like that one."

"Yeah?" You teased, spinning slowly to show off the entire set. Spencer was enthralled, even with the small view he had through his screen. He'd much prefer to see you in person but unfortunately he was an absolute idiot who'd sent his girlfriend off to buy lingerie to taunt him with while he was away for an excruciatingly long week.

He suffered through piece after piece of skimpy clothing, the hardness in his pants growing, reminding him of how stupid he is.

"Spence? Am I cutting out?" You asked and he blinked, focusing on the screen again.

"Oh, uh, no. What did you say?"

"I have to go, I'm meeting a friend for dinner."

"Oh, okay. Have fun. You still have my card, don't you?"

"Of course I do." You grinned.

"Good. Use it. Dinner's on me."

"Thank you, baby." Spencer ended the call wishing he was there to rip that lingerie off your body and eat you for dinner but all he could do was touch himself in a hotel bed halfway across the country to images of you in his head. At least his eidetic memory gave him some help there.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre

[imtaashu]

She Waited. I Didn’t.

POV: Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: He asked for space. You gave it. He thought you’d always be there. But love doesn’t wait forever. Genre: Angst | Regret | Lost Love Word Count: ~950 Warnings: Emotional repression, heavy guilt, themes of self-sabotage, missed chances 💌Author’s Note: this piece honestly wrecked me while writing. slipping into bucky’s head and exploring his guilt, his silence, and the way he breaks without her… it hurt in all the right ways. i’m still new to writing from this kind of POV, so thank you if you took the time to read it 🖤 if you’d like to see a reunion i’d love to continue this little heartbreak universe. just let me know ;) your support—likes, reblogs, even the tiniest tags—means everything <3 This is part 2 of a story! You can find part 1 here. 💕

✦ welcome to my bucky brain rot. masterlist lives here ✦

I thought she’d wait. That’s the truth.

I thought—She always did.

When I woke up screaming, she stayed.

When I pulled away, she pulled closer.

When I said I couldn’t do love, she said she’d do enough for both of us.

So when I said “I need space,”

I thought she’d still be there when I came back.

But when I came back…

She wasn’t..

——————————

The first time I met her, I didn’t believe in softness.

Not for me.

Not after what I’d done.

Not after what had been done to me.

But she sat across from me on that rooftop, legs swinging over the edge, and asked,

“What scares you the most?” And I said, “Loving someone who deserves better.” She didn’t flinch didn’t run. Just whispered, “Then let me be brave for both of us.”

God, I think that was the first time I wanted to live for something that didn’t involve survival. She made space for me and I used it to push her away.

Every time she held me, I told myself I didn’t deserve it. Every time she looked at me like I was worth the world, I looked away. Because if I met her eyes for too long, I was scared I’d believe it.

——————————

The night I left, she didn’t cry. She didn’t beg.She just nodded. Softly. Quietly.

Like someone watching the tide pull away the thing they love most.

I didn’t know it then—but that was the last time she looked at me like I was hers. I told myself it was for her that I was protecting her. But that’s a lie. Iwas protecting me.

From the weight of being loved that deeply.

From the responsibility of being someone else’s heart.

——————————

I thought she’d wait. But love isn’t a hotel room with the light on. It’s a heartbeat and even the strongest ones can’t keep beating for someone who doesn’t come home.

I came back two months later, flowers in one hand, some shitty excuse in the other. I knocked. No answer. I tried again the next day. Still nothing..

By the third day, I found the courage to check the doormat—where she used to leave me spare keys in case I came over late.

There was nothing.

Just a dead love fern on the windowsill and her hoodie wasn’t in the hallway anymore. Mine still hung on her chair.

I asked Natasha if she’d heard from her. She looked at me with a kind of sadness I hadn’t seen since the war. “She waited, Buck,” she said “for weeks then she stopped.”

I found the article she wrote. Unpublished.

Buried in her drafts folder online.

“He walked away, and I let him. Not because I wanted to. But because you can’t make someone stay. You can only make it hurt less when they don’t.”

I sat there for hours. Just staring.

——————————

I still dream of her sometimes of the way she used to trace the scar on my collarbone like it wasn’t ugly of the way she always made two cups of coffee, even when I hadn’t stayed the night of her sleepy voice, whispering, “I hope one day you forgive yourself enough to stay.”

If I could go back, I’d choose her. Every single time even if it broke me even if I was scared because now? now I’m haunted by the sound of a door I closed—and the echo of her not opening it again.

-end

[eddiesxangel]

My Little Bunny | Older!Eddie x Reader

For Evie, @oneforthemunny prompt for her writing challenge. “based off the lore that older!eddie gets slutty on tequila lol. gimme tequila eddie. make it slutty. the og prompt was at the beach for a wedding of a cousin, if you’d like to follow that, but if not- where does it happen? how do you think it would go? don’t spare a single detail please!!!!” I hope I did your man justice 😘 happy one year!

Happy new year! Here is some smut to start the year off right.

This is pure filth, don’t look at me🫣

Cw: age gap, oral, p in v, ass play, anal. Minors DNI. Only slightly proofread so if you see a spelling mistake… no you didn’t 😤

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slurred. The man could not handle his liquor. But neither could you.

After what happened and the wedding, Eddie swore he wouldn’t drink tequila for a very long time. However, tonight was special. Tonight, the baby was with your parents, and Bri was off with your sister for the evening. It was just you. And Eddie. Alone for the first time in what felt like years. Eddie was wining and dining with you tonight.

You convinced him to go to a bar to dance. Well, you danced, he watched. He watched your body; he loved the new curves you got from bringing Delilah into the world. You returned to the bar where he was sitting and ordered four tequila shots. Eddie had been nursing a beer all night; he was shocked at your drink of choice.

“Bunny you know what happens when I drink this…” giving you a stern look.

“Maybe I wanna get a little freaky tonight…. It’s been so long” you run your hands up and down his chest.

“I don’t know”

“What if I gave you an insensitive?”

“And what would that be?”

“I want you to fuck my ass tonight” you whispered against your husband’s ear.

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slured again as you both stumbled into your home.

“Fuck I need you. I need your tight ass so bad”

You can’t keep your hands off one another. Your lips are attached to his neck, and your hands run up and down his body. You barely make it through the front door before your hands are trying to get down his pants.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom. You were stripping your man with each step. Something inside of you was burning, and Eddie was the only thing to put it out. A visceral ache in your core, screaming at you to do something about it.

“I need you, I need you so bad,” you whined because he wasn’t moving fast enough. You were already on the bed waiting for him.

Eddie giggled as he tried to unbutton his dress shirt, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Come here,” Eddie coxed you closer to him. “I need your help.”

“Arms up,” your mom instincts kicked in, and you pulled off Eddie’s shirt in one swift motion.

Without hesitation, you worked on his pants the second your fingertips left the fabric of his shirt. Your nimble fingers worked his belt, button, and zipper, and finally, why you craved most was released before you.

"God, you're so hot! How did I land a wife so fucking hot?"

You let Eddie cup your face, kissing you as he pushes you back onto the bed. His tongue parted your lips, and you gladly let him take charge.

It was needy and messy but so deliciously delightful. You missed your hundreds touch. You’d been so busy being a new mom, and Eddie tried picking up extra shifts to make a little more cash so you could take a nice vacation this summer. You hardly spent time together. You needed this. He needed this. The fire in his belly was also burning the second you mentioned your perfect tight little hole wanting to be stretched and pounded by his cock.

“You gonna be my good little bunny?” Eddie spoke as he slinked down your body so his face was level with your throbbing pussy.

“Yes!” You had zero patients, and he thought it was cute.

“Well then... You gotta get nice and wet, f’me”

“Already ammmmm” you wined again. Why was he prolonging this?

“Oh is she? I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.” Eddie didn’t spare another second. His hands wrenched your legs open, pressing them as far as they could reach.

You let out a moan of pleasure when his mouth finally attached to your lower lips.

Eddie needed to taste you. He usually didn’t do this often, but tonight you deserved to be thoroughly fucked. He needed to feel you cumming in his mouth, to taste you, to feel you. His eyes rolled back into his head as he moaned into your pussy.

“Looks like you were right, baby bunny, and you taste so good. Just can’t get enough,” Eddie dove back in, flicking and licking at your clit. Your body was so reactive to him tonight. Let’s thank the tequila because it didn’t take much to make you cum from his mouth.

“Baby, I’m so close”

“Already? But I just started playing with her” he pouted.

“Yes! P-please.” You stuttered.

“You wanna cum? You going to cum for me?”

Unexpectedly, Eddie replaced his mouth with his finger just as you were on the brink. Before you could say anything, his finger was inside your wet fold, collecting all of your slick, and was quickly replaced by his mouth again.

You could feel the warmth building back up. Eddie continued to work your clit. All the while, his finger, drenched with your own natural lube, was starting to tease your other hole.

“Oh my god,” you moan as his finger slowly makes its way inside.

“You okay?”

“Don’t stop!” You begged as your first orgasm washes through you.

“Fuck, your tight little ass is sucking me in so good,” Eddie continues to finger you as you ride out your orgasm.

“Good bunny. Turn around, ass up, show me what’s mine.”

You quickly obeyed his orders and flipped around so you could show him what he wanted. You loved when he got possessive.

“Tell me what you want bunny”

“You.”

“Nu-uh,” Eddie tutted. “Be more specific.”

“Edddiiiieee, please, I need you.”

Eddie couldn’t believe your extra brattiness tonight.

“No,” a sharp slap filled the room and your ass stung. “Tell me what you need, Bunny,” he spoke, and he massaged the area he slapped. Soothing your skin.

“Your tongue… and your fingers,” you pant.

“Good little bunny,” he smirked. “You want me to tongue fuck your tight little hole? Get you nice and ready for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh as you arch your back more so Eddie can see more of you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re perfect.” Eddie gripped each cheek, spreading you open before dipping his head down.

When you felt his tongue make contact with your hole, you cried out again. You were revelling in the fact you were in an empty house. You could be as loud as you wanted.

“Mmmmmm, you taste so good, Bunny,” he moaned into you.

“Eddie!”

“Yes, Bunny?”

“More!”

“More what?”

“Please fuck my pussy”

“You’re such a good little slut for me. Good girl telling me what you want…. But is that all you want?” God, he was so condescending.

You let out an irritated huff. “Eddie, please,” you begged as you wiggled your ass in the air to entice him.

“You need to behave, little bunny, or else you’re not going to get what you want.” Eddie’s hands gripped your cheeks tighter.

“I’m sorry, I just need you so badly baby”

“Ohhh, I like that; tell me more.”

“I need you so bad! I’m aching for you. Please.”

“That’s my good girl.

Eddie lined up his cock with your wanton hole and slowly stretched you out.

“Thank you.” You sighed with relief.

His thick long cock stretched out your walls. You couldn’t help yourself as you rocked your body back and forth onto his cock.

“That’s it, bunny. Show me what you really can do” he slapped your ass again. You rocked your knees and hips back onto Eddie’s cock as he stood at the edge of your shared bed.

“Mmmmmm”

“More!”

You felt a wad of spit drip down your ass, lower and lower, until Eddie’s fingers found it and rimmed your picked hole. As you rocked your body against Eddie’s cock he dipped in his single digit, adding another and another until you stretched out.

Your body is screaming; Eddie was making you feel so good.

“Ok, bunny, you’re going to ride me, bounce on this cock and show me how good of a Bunny you are.”

“Yes, please. Need you.”

Eddie pulled out so he could get underneath you, but not before he reached the nightstand to pull out the lube you had stashed away for nights like these.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked as he covered his cock in the slippery substance.

“Yes,” you swung your leg around his hips, aligning yourself with his hard cock that lay on his stomach.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered as he guided your hips down onto him.

“Oh fuck” you both grit out in unison.

You watched as Eddie glazed over with lust.

“Fucking so good. Damn, tight.” Eddie gritted through his teeth.

He planted his feet on the mattress to ground himself. His hips started thrusting up into you, matching your strokes.

“Fuck fuck fuck I love the way you take my cock. Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it,” you panted as you bounced on his cock. You felt so full, so complete. So ready for his cock to fill you.

“Baby, touch me,” you commanded.

Eddie dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth as his hand found your pussy, finding your clit. A rush of pleasure ran through your body as his mouth and hands explored your body.

“Oh baby,” you threw your head back with pleasure.

“How much do you want it, baby bunny?”

“I want it so bad!”

“What do you want?”

“Your cum”

“Sucha little slut, want me to fill your ass with my cum?”

“Yes!”

Eddie’s hand never stopped working your clit. You could feel the pleasure build and build. Your legs were burning, but it was in measure to how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close baby I can feel you clenching down on me so tight.” He squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me, then I’ll fill you up so good you’ll be leaking for days. Do you want that? To feel my cum dripping out of you tomorrow?”

“Fuck. Eddie!” You cried out as your body clenched around his cock, cumming hard.

"Eddie continued to pound into your ass until he unloaded up into you, filling you up just like you begged him to do.

Your body went limp and your soar muscles rested as you lay your weight fully on your husband.

"Remind me again. Why don't I do tequila?" Eddie laughed as his brain released serotonin. "That was amazing." He kissed the top of your head.

"Remember that question tomorrow, big boy." You giggled, and Eddie finally pulled out of you.

"Come on, Bunny, let's get you cleaned up. " Even in his drunken state, he still needed to take care of you.

"Can't move. You fucked me too well." you sighed.

"I think you did most of the work Bun, you fucked me."

"I did, didn't I?" You smile at the realization.

"Don't get cocky now" He slapped your ass, and you jumped up out of bed with Eddie following close behind you.

[transmechanicus]

this is. probably a very personal question.

Is it worth it? Transitioning? In spite of it all?

Completely, utterly, and absolutely. I’m one of those ppl who knew i was trans since i was like 8. I found out when i was probably 13/14 what transgender meant, but recoiled from it because i could not imagine a world that would accept me or where i would be happy with the result. At 15 i met my first other trans person, and they became my friend and partner and the first person to ever know i was trans. Being around them, known by them, was such a colossal psychological relief and source of joy unlike anything i had known before. It made separating from them after graduation all the more excruciating to lose that one person i had trusted with that truth.

Sometime over the next two years i came out to my Mom, but nothing really changed, and i had more or less resolved to rot and die under the identity i had been born into. I let my undergrad studies chew me up, neglected all but the most necessary body maintenance, and spent every moment outside work or class buried in video games or books. At some point something snapped out of place, or perhaps back into place. I knew i didn’t want to die like this. I wanted something more for my life and my flesh than being a half dead servitor stocking yogurt. I wanted to transition, and however slowly, however long it took, that’s what i resolved to do.

It took a while. I had no real finances, no privacy, and little independence. I was coming from a white low-self-expression, high-control household. I “messed up” while base coating warhammer models one time and gave myself black nails. My dad berated me about it for days before trying to pin my hands down and sand the paint off (didn’t work, thank you automotive primer). When i was ~22 i got my ears pierced, basically the first permanent part of my transition, and i had never known as much joy as i did driving home knowing the pain was a step of permanent progress. Around this time 2019/2020 i started being out online, more vocal about being transgender as opposed to just having a relatively inexpressive fandom blog with no info beyond my name.

When i was 24, two years ago i came out to my dad, and a week later i left for grad school halfway across the country. I had an apartment all to myself, and my own source of income. I spent my spare change building up a wardrobe of new clothes that i actually liked. I got my first year of grad school done mostly without anything remarkable. Went to some queer events at my school. Found a partner. Got loved to bits for a while. Re-came out to my parents over the summer, and this time it stuck. Started HRT that fall, 2023. Came out to my classmates and coworkers and was rewarded with support and acceptance. Lost the partner. Devastated. Resolve to get even hotter and cooler. Smash out 3 piercings and a tattoo inside a week. Develop personal fashion sense. Attend research conference. Get better at makeup. Go to some concerts. Increase HRT. Tiddy Arc. Buy bra with a supportive bestie. Start weekly therapy. Increase HRT. Cosplay at a major convention. Schedule another tattoo. More HRT. Bra no longer optional. Present day. Tattoo on Wednesday. 90% of progress packed into the last year or so. Undeniably hotter, happier, and more self-expressive than anything in the last 24 years prior.

Transitioning is more than worth it, it brings me so much relief and joy every day no matter how shitty my day is otherwise, and while i have known doubt, i have never for an instant known regret.

There is still time🖤🏳️‍⚧️💕

[allthingsfangirl101]

Bother Me – Glen Powell

I knocked on his door and nervously waited. I shook my head when I realized I was always doing this. Whenever something goes wrong or needs fixing in my apartment, I go to my neighbor, Glen Powell.

Back when I first moved in next door to Glen, he wasn't a big actor yet. He'd had smaller roles but nothing that made him noticed. We became friends in the laundry room when I asked to borrow one of his dryer sheets. We ran into each other a week later and I gave him a dryer sheet to pay him back. We quickly found that we always do laundry on the same night.

"Hey, Y/N," Glen smiled as he opened his door. "What's up?"

"Sorry to bother you," I sighed, "but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Anything."

"One of the light bulbs in my fan is out and I can't get the cover off," I explained.

"Easy," he smiled. He left his apartment and followed me back to my apartment. I showed him what fan I was talking about and watched as he removed the cover, changed the light bulb, and put the cover back on.

"Thanks for doing this, Glen," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I swear I'm not as helpless as I come off."

"You're not helpless," he said gently as he climbed down the ladder.

"I come to you all the time for stupid little things," I shrugged. "I bet it's annoying."

"It's not," he said gently. "I really don't mind coming over to help you."

"If it ever gets annoying, please let me know."

I gasped when he leaned in and kissed my cheek. "I will never have to because it will never get annoying."

* * * * *

Even though Glen tried to reassure me that my always asking him for help wasn't annoying, I was still insecure about it. So, I refused to ask him for help. It lasted a week before I eventually did need his help.

I searched through my bag, saying several swear words under my breath as I tried to remember where I put my keys.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" I jumped, instantly making Glen feel bad. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not you," I sighed. "It's just. . . It's been a day and I'm pretty sure I either left my keys in my desk at work or on the table right on the other side of this door."

"Well," he smiled, "good news is that you gave me your spare key last year. Give me one second to pop into my place and I'll grab it."

As we ran into his apartment, I wrapped my arms around myself. He quickly came back and smiled at me before unlocking my door.

"Your home, madam," he said, jokingly opening the door for me.

"Thank you," I sighed. "Seriously, Glen. Thank you."

I walked into my apartment and instantly found my keys right on the small table I have by the door.

"And here they are. Right by the door," I sighed as I grabbed them. I turned back toward Glen, my face burning. "I'm really sorry, Glen. I don't know why I'm so helpless."

"It's okay," he smiled. I swear, this guy is always smiling. "I already told you; I don't mind."

"But I do," I mumbled. I looked up to see him studying me. I cleared my throat before saying, "Thanks again, Glen. I won't keep you from your Friday night plans."

I sent him a smile before closing the door. Right as I closed the door, I heard him mumble, "I didn't have any plans."

* * * * *

A few hours later, I started making cookies for my book club tomorrow night but I didn't check if I had all my ingredients. When I grabbed the salt, I instantly groaned. My first thought should've been to run to the small grocery store around the corner but it wasn't. My first thought was to ask Glen.

I couldn't help but fix my shirt before leaving my apartment and heading to Glen's. I held my breath as I waited for him to open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled instantly.

"Sorry to bother you. . . Again, but I was wondering if. . ."

"Bother me."

"What?"

"Bother me," he repeated. "I love it when you bother me. It never bothers me."

I smiled when he cringed at how cheezy that sounded. But I loved it.

"I just mean," he tried to save himself, "that I like that you need me. It's been a while since someone has needed me."

"It's been a while since I've trusted someone enough to need them," I said, my voice soft. Glen smiled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I do," I whispered back. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine. As I kissed him back, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He instantly wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You needed something," Glen said, breaking the kiss.

"Oh," I said, my voice still soft. "Right. Um, I was going to see if you had any salt."

"I do," he chuckled. "What are you making?"

"Cookies for my book club," I explained, my face turning slightly pink.

"That's fun," he said, reaching up and moving some hair out of my face. "You need an extra pair of hands?"

"I could use some help," I shrugged. I grabbed his hand and started pulling him to my apartment. He pulled back, turning me around. I started to ask what was wrong but his smile reassured me.

"We forgot the salt," he chuckled. He gave me a quick kiss before jogging back into his apartment.

I took a shaky breath as I waited. My mind went all over the place as I thought about what this could mean for us. We officially weren't just neighbors anymore. . . Right?

"You okay?"

I hadn't noticed him come back. "Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Just. . . overthinking."

"Overthinking?" He asked, his smile dropping. "About what, gorgeous?"

"Us?"

As soon as that word left my lips, I was worried about his reaction. Instead of getting angry or hurt, Glen took a step closer to me. He leaned in and gave me a slow and soft kiss. We broke the kiss, both of us out of breath. He leaned his forehead against mine as I anxiously waited for him to say something.

"There is nothing to overthink about us, Y/N," he whispered. "I have been obsessed with you since we first met. I want to give this a try."

"Really?" I asked as I leaned back.

"Really," he smiled. He chuckled before adding, "I should be honest with you. I only did my laundry on Thursdays that first night we met. I went back the next week, hoping to run into you again. When you told me you do laundry every Thursday night, I started doing mine every Thursday. And not that I've said that out loud, I realize how creepy and stalkerish that is."

"No, it's not," I smiled. "It's extremely sweet."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my toes, and kissed him. He smiled against my lips as he held me close to him. We broke apart with small giggles when we heard the oven in my apartment beep.

"Sorry to bother you," I said softly, "but any chance you can help me make cookies for my book club?"

[pillow-coded]

To Have and To Hold — Chapter 9

Summary: A sunny morning, a planetarium trip, and a picture-perfect afternoon. Everything feels almost too good to be true. But when an innocent comment catches Spencer off guard, the day takes an unexpected turn. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Reader overthinking, a microscopic amount of angst towards the end Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

The sunlight woke me before the alarm did — sharp and golden across the floorboards, the kind of light that makes everything feel warmer than it probably is. But maybe everything just felt warmer because of how good things were going.

I spent the night over at Y/N’s last weekend. Maddie had fallen asleep in my arms, tiny fingers curled into my sleeve like she was holding onto a dream. The next morning, she’d drawn a picture of the three of us — stick figures with tangled smiles, all holding hands. Y/N saved the fluffiest pancake for me. Just set it on a little plate like it was obvious. Like I was expected to stay for breakfast.

I hadn’t had a nightmare in nearly a week. I wasn’t sure if that meant anything, but… I’d started sleeping with one of Maddie’s drawings pinned to the wall. Maybe that was my saving grace. A little paper talisman that reminded me why things felt lighter lately.

The team’s been side-eyeing me more than usual. If they hadn’t been suspicious after I slipped and said Maddie’s name instead of the victim’s name during the Jensen’s case, along with my little meltdown, then my recent cheerfulness definitely gave me away. JJ cornered me in the hallway yesterday and asked if I was “seeing someone.” I panicked and changed the subject — something about ant pheromones, I think.

But I smiled the whole way home, just from thinking… ‘Yes, I’m seeing someone.’

I stretched, blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, then sat up slowly. It was a late-spring morning, the kind that smelled like wet grass and felt like a second chance.

When I checked my phone, I already had three messages from Y/N:

Y/N: hi :)

Y/N: I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything but Maddie has been up since 6:13

Y/N: she’s fully dressed, packed her purse, and keeps asking if “Spencer’s awake yet” like I have access to your brain

I smiled to myself, thumb hovering over the screen longer than it should’ve before replying with a simple:

Spencer: Just woke up, but I’ll be there in 15

I got ready faster than I thought I could. Just a minute or two — which was far too quickly compared to other times I’ve seen Y/N, where I stood in front of the mirror way too long, obsessing over how my cardigan sat over my button-up, or whether I looked like I was trying too hard.

Regardless, those two minutes of getting ready gave me three extra to spare and still make it to her apartment in the promised fifteen.

So I made some coffee.

By the time I’d poured it into a travel mug, Y/N had sent a photo.

Maddie, standing proudly in a glittery skirt and a sweater with a purple cat patched across the front. Two mismatched bows decorated her pigtails. Her tiny purse — the one she insisted on calling her “field bag” — was slung over her shoulder. I knew without even opening it that her little “stars notebook” was tucked safely inside, along with that purple glitter pen she guards like her life depends on it.

She was grinning like she’d just won Little Miss Universe.

I forced myself to set the phone down. I grabbed my bag, locked the door behind me, and slid into the driver’s seat — coffee safely in my travel mug, still hot.

I still have ten minutes to get there, and maybe spare an extra minute.

The drive wasn’t long, but the silence gave my thoughts too much room. I took a sip of coffee at a stoplight, trying to keep my mind still, but it never really worked.

It was strange — how natural it felt now. How familiar the route to their apartment had become. Like muscle memory.

I’d memorized the road since the first time I drove there. The house with the overflowing flower garden. The small kindergarten tucked at the corner of the block, right at the intersection where I turn right. The maple trees lined up neatly in front of her building, the leaves just starting to blush toward summer.

With every drive, I start to feel fonder of it all — the road, the houses, the crooked bus stops, even the cracks in the sidewalk. They’re markers now. Little signs that I’m getting closer to them.

Closer to her.

I pull into Y/N’s visitor spot. She gave me the pass last week— It was laminated and labeled — She told me to keep it, since I’ve been coming over so often. Like she expected me to keep coming. Like she wanted me to.

And maybe that’s what made my hands shake a little as I turned off the ignition.

Not nerves, but excitement.

I grabbed my coffee and stepped out of the car, the air still cool enough to nip at my collar. The trees rustled above me, and I counted the steps from the parking lot to her front door without meaning to. I always did. Twenty-six and a half. The last one’s a little shorter because the sidewalk dips just before the porch.

I used to hesitate here. The first few times, I’d stand at the edge of the welcome mat, rehearsing what I’d say. Trying to find the right tone, the right words, the version of myself that felt safest to offer.

Now I don’t rehearse. I just knock.

Because she always opens the door like she’s expecting me.

Because Maddie always squeals when she sees me — like I’m not a visitor, but someone who was meant to arrive.

Because this place — this life I only just started to tiptoe into — doesn’t feel like borrowed time anymore.

It’s starting to feel real.

And that… that’s the scariest, and best, part of all of it.

“Wow, you actually made it in fifteen minutes.”

Y/N’s voice hit me first — amused, teasing, the kind of dry warmth that always makes my stomach twist in the gentlest way. She was leaning against the doorframe, hair pulled back loosely, one hand on the knob and the other braced against the edge like she hadn’t just opened the door, but welcomed it. Welcomed me.

“Spencer!!!!”

Maddie was already charging at me before I could answer. Tiny shoes tapping against the floor, pigtails bouncing with each step. She wrapped herself around my leg like a very sparkly, very enthusiastic barnacle.

“You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!”

I laughed, steadying my coffee so I didn’t spill it all over her glittery skirt. “I told you I’d be here.”

“Mommy said you might still be brushing your hair.”

Y/N gave me a look over Maddie’s head — clearly not sorry.

I shrugged. “I considered it.”

“Well,” she said, pushing the door open wider, “you still look very brushed. Come in. She’s been waiting at the window like a cat.”

I stepped inside, careful not to trip over Maddie, who was now spinning in tight circles like she needed to release excess joy from her limbs. Y/N closed the door behind me with her foot, already halfway back toward the kitchen, muttering something about “goldfish crackers and fruit pouches.”

She was in motion — efficient, focused, a little chaotic in that way she always got when she wanted things to go perfectly.

“There’s still some breakfast on the counter, Spence. Feel free to grab some.”

“Oh, I’m good,” I said, lifting my travel mug. “I made myself some coffee.”

Y/N turned from the kitchen just long enough to give me a look — not annoyed, just deeply unimpressed. “You didn’t eat, did you.”

I hesitated. “…No.”

She sighed, grabbed a piece of toast from the counter, and handed it to me like a doctor prescribing medication. “You need to eat. Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast.”

I took the toast. “It’s… efficient.”

“It’s not,” she said, already back to zipping up Maddie’s backpack. “It’s a shortcut to passing out in a planetarium’s lobby.”

Before I could come up with a defense, Maddie darted into the room, swinging her bag behind her like a superhero cape, the zipper half-undone and a stuffed dinosaur hanging out the side.

“Mommy packed the purple gummies,” she whispered to me like it was top secret. “And two juice boxes. The good ones.”

I nodded seriously. “Sounds like you’re well-prepared.”

Her bag sat open on the counter. She zipped it, unzipped it again. Added a water bottle. Swapped one snack pack for another. Then checked it again. I watched her take out a tiny travel-sized sunscreen, hesitate, and put it back in.

“I know we’re going to be indoors mostly,” she said, more to herself than to me, “but there’s a courtyard, and she’ll ask to run around. I just know it.”

“She’ll probably demand us to play tag,” I offered.

Y/N looked up at me and smiled — flustered, fond, flushed. “Exactly.”

She double-checked the wet wipes, the napkins, the bandaids. Paused. Then checked again.

I didn’t say anything. I knew this part wasn’t about the snacks or the wipes or even the backup hair ties. It was about feeling ready. Feeling in control of a day she desperately wanted to go right.

She caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like I’m going crazy. You deep cleaned your apartment before our tea night.”

I held up my hands in surrender, smiling into my coffee. “Fair.”

“Ready to go?”

I nodded, tightening the lid on my coffee. “Yeah. You?”

She let out a breath — not frustrated, just one of those quiet exhales that meant she was trying to ground herself. “I think so.”

Her eyes scanned the apartment one last time. She touched the strap of her bag like she wasn’t sure it was secure, then tugged Maddie’s tiny jacket out from the hook by the door.

“Mads, come here!”

“I am here,” Maddie announced, appearing dramatically from behind the couch. She held her Rapunzel doll in one hand and her glitter pen like a dagger in the other.

“Shoes,” Y/N said, pointing. “Both of them. Preferably matching this time.”

“But mommy, I want the pink sparkly one, and the silver one with lights…”

Y/N sighed, already glancing down at Maddie’s feet — two completely different shoes, equally chaotic in energy. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but then… stopped.

Instead, she knelt down, brushed a curl from Maddie’s cheek, and smiled — soft, tired, full of something I couldn’t name but wanted to memorize.

“Alright,” she said gently, “just this once.”

Maddie lit up like she’d been granted a royal decree. “Yessss,” she whispered, triumphant, and immediately stomped her light-up foot to make her point.

Y/N stood back up and looked at me, shrugging like this is my life, but her smile hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger now. A little messier. A little softer.

“Fashion icon,” I murmured.

“You’re enabling her.”

“I’m just respecting her creative vision.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. “Alright. Bag?”

I held it up. “Secured.”

“Maddie, You’re really bringing Rapunzel?”

“She wants to see the stars!” she shouted, already halfway out the door.

Y/N followed with a resigned but affectionate sigh. “Alrighty then… to the car we go.”

We made it down the steps in a not-so-orderly line — Maddie skipping every other stair, Y/N trailing her like a bodyguard with a purse and backup hair tie in hand. I unlocked the car and held the door open while Maddie climbed into her car seat with a surprising amount of coordination.

“Mommy, can we play I Spy while Spencer drives?” she asked, already strapping herself in like this was a full mission briefing.

Y/N gave her a look in the rearview mirror. “Only if we keep the volume at indoor voice levels.”

“I am inside,” Maddie argued, completely missing the point.

I smiled as I buckled in. “You can start. Just give me a second to warm up my deduction skills.”

“Okay, okay…” Maddie squinted out the window like a tiny detective. “I spy with my little eye… something that’s blue!”

“The sky?” Y/N guessed.

“Nope!”

“Your juice box?” I offered.

“Wrong again!”

I glanced in the rearview, then pointed toward the front seat. “Is it the museum flyer in the pocket?”

Maddie squealed. “Yes!!! That was so fast!”

Y/N looked at me like I’d just performed a minor miracle. “How did you even see that?”

“I have very advanced observational skills,” I said, sipping my coffee.

“Uh-huh,” she said, trying not to smile. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

So I did.

We drove in that easy silence with the occasional interruption of Maddie humming in the backseat between guesses, Y/N leaning her head lightly against the window, sunlight catching in the strands of her hair. I didn’t say much. I didn’t need to.

The city passed by in flashes of spring color. Street signs I didn’t have to read anymore. A left turn I’d already memorized.

By the time we pulled into the planetarium parking lot, Maddie was pressed up against the window like it might disappear if she blinked. Her feet kicked excitedly, mismatched shoes flashing pink and silver like twin beacons of chaos.

“We’re heeere!” she sang. “I see stars! I see rockets! I see a UFO!”

Y/N laughed. “That’s the rooftop observatory, baby.”

I turned off the engine and smiled at the two of them. “It’s a retractable dome — it opens up so the telescope can track celestial objects without obstruction. Some of them are motorized to follow the rotation of the Earth.”

Maddie’s eyes widened like I’d just handed her the moon.

“Can we go in there?”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, glancing at me with a grin. “If our tour guide keeps the facts coming.”

I sipped my coffee. “I haven’t even started.”

“That is so cool,” Maddie whispered.

Y/N turned to me, eyes warm. “See, this is why you’re not allowed to skip these things,” she said, nudging my arm. “We’d miss all the fun facts.”

I felt myself smile—small, but real.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s goooo!!” Maddie squealed, grabbing both of our hands and yanking with surprising force for someone who barely clears three feet.

Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine, sticky with what I hoped was just juice residue, and I let her drag me forward. Y/N laughed beside me — not the quiet kind, but the full, unguarded kind that made my chest ache in the best way.

We jogged awkwardly behind her, Maddie setting the pace, completely unaware of how fast her little legs were moving.

“She thinks she’s leading a mission,” Y/N panted, half-laughing as we reached the doors.

“She is,” I said. “Operation: Get to the Dome Theatre sky show in record time,”

Y/N giggled. It was a sound I never wanted to forget.

The kind of sound that makes everything else go quiet for a second — like the world stepped aside to make space for just that.

Her eyes met mine, bright and unguarded, and something shifted. Just a flicker. Just enough to make my steps slow down, even as Maddie kept tugging us forward.

I wanted to say something — something clever, maybe, or meaningful. But the moment passed before I could catch it.

“Come on!” Maddie whined, yanking harder on our hands. “We’re gonna miss the rocket show!”

“It’s not a rocket show, sweetheart” Y/N said, breathless from trying not to laugh. “It’s literally about the stars.”

“Well the rocket gets us there!”

“Mads, wait,” she called, chasing after her. “We have to buy the tickets first.”

Maddie stopped with a huff, her sparkly shoes blinking in protest. “But the show’s gonna start!”

“It’s in twenty-five minutes,” Y/N replied, pulling her phone out of her coat pocket. “You’ve got time to bounce in place.”

We reached the counter, and Y/N was already halfway through digging into her purse for her wallet when I stepped up beside her and offered my card without thinking.

“I got it.”

She blinked. “Spencer—”

“It’s fine,” I said, quietly, not looking at her just yet.

“You’re gonna have to let me pay one of these days, you know?”

“Maybe,” I reply and turn back to Maddie, leaving no room for discussion. “You ready, Captain?”

Maddie’s face lit up with a bright smile. She brought her hand to her forehead in a crooked salute — all enthusiasm, no coordination.

“Aye aye, space wizard!”

I couldn’t help it — I smiled. It tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. She had that effect on me. Both of them did.

Y/N watched the exchange with a look I couldn’t quite name. Somewhere between amusement and something softer. Something that felt like it might crack me open if I stared at it too long.

“Alright, crew,” she said, brushing her hand lightly against my back as she started walking toward the exhibit hallway. “Let’s blast off.”

And just like that, Maddie took off again, arms out like wings, narrating her own mission under her breath.

I followed a step behind them, coffee still warm in my hand, heart a little fuller than it had any right to be.

Maddie’s shoes squeaked softly against the polished floors as we stepped into the dimmed glow of the Space Gallery — all navy-blue walls and tiny flecks of light that mimicked stars. She gasped so dramatically you’d think she hadn’t just spent the last hour talking about constellations. Her hand immediately reached for Spencer’s.

They walked a few steps ahead of me, her dragging him to the first exhibit like he was the one who needed guidance. Spencer tilted his head slightly, reading one of the displays with quiet focus. I could already see the gears in his head turning.

“Did you know a single teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh about 6 billion tons. That’s more than all of humanity combined?”

“What’s a neu star?” Maddie asked, her voice bouncing off the curved walls like it belonged there.

Spencer looked down at her and instinctively lowered himself a bit, like he wanted to meet her where she was — not just physically, but entirely. It wasn’t performative. He wasn’t showing off. He just wanted her to understand.

“A neutron star,” he said, so gently it almost caught me off guard, “is what’s left after a really big star explodes. It’s super small, but so heavy it would sink right through the Earth if you dropped it.”

Maddie stared up at him, unconvinced. “That’s not real.”

He smiled at her like she was letting him in on a secret. “It is. I promise.”

She thought for a second. “Is it heavier than my bag?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

“What about my couch?”

He barely hesitated. “Think about a trillion of your couch.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow.”

And me? I just stood there. Watching them. Feeling something bloom in the center of my chest that I didn’t know what to do with. Not because it was surprising — not really — but because I had no defense against it.

He made her feel smart. Important. Listened to. He didn’t just tolerate her curiosity, he fed it, gently and patiently, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I’d dated men who couldn’t even hold a two-minute conversation with her.

I wasn’t sure when I’d started looking at Spencer like this. I only knew that now, in this light, with starlight reflecting off glass and her tiny fingers still curled around his hand… He was no longer just the guy I was falling in love with… He was starting to become part of our little family.

It was getting harder to pretend I didn’t notice.

“My teacher told me space is quiet,” Maddie said, pointing to a photo of an astronaut drifting alone, weightless and small against the vast black behind him. The image made me ache a little, though I couldn’t say why. Maybe because I knew that kind of floating.

“Actually, space isn’t entirely silent,” Spencer replied, gently. “Contrary to popular belief.”

And just like that, his voice slipped into that soft cadence he used when he was explaining something — the one that made even the most complicated ideas feel like bedtime stories.

I watched him, watched the way his hand stayed loosely around Maddie’s, the way he glanced toward me halfway through the sentence. Like he was making sure I was still listening. Like he wanted me to hear it, too.

“While space is a vacuum,” he continued, “sound can travel through plasma waves. Spacecraft like Voyager have recorded electromagnetic vibrations, and those can be converted into sounds. That’s how we get those haunting recordings — those low, eerie tones from deep space.”

He said it like it was magic. Like science and wonder didn’t have to cancel each other out.

Maddie gasped. “So there are noises?”

He nodded. “Not like voices or music. But the universe… hums.”

And I don’t know. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his eyes lingered on mine a second too long. Maybe it was just the way he stood there, so calm, so sure — like the universe wasn’t so quiet after all.

But I felt something settle in my chest.

A kind of humming, too.

And it had everything to do with him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, catching me staring.

I blinked, caught. “Uh… yeah. Sorry.” I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just… what you said. It’s really interesting.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth, either.

What I meant was: You’re really interesting. You make everything feel a little more possible. I’m falling for you faster than I thought I would. And it scares me. And I still want to keep going anyway.

But I didn’t say any of that. Just smiled. Just walked with him to the next exhibit. Just let the hum settle a little deeper into my chest.

The quiet, steady hum that now lived with the image in my head — of him and me, floating in space… weightless, slow-dancing among the stars.

Maddie tugged on our hands again a few minutes later, pulling us toward a life-size cardboard cutout of three astronauts standing on the moon. Their helmets were cut out, faces missing — waiting to be filled.

“Mommy, can we please take a picture? Please, please, pleaseee?”

She was already halfway into the cutout before I could answer, sticking her head through the middle astronaut and waving her arms like she was floating.

I glanced at Spencer. He looked amused. A little hesitant, but not in the no kind of way. More like he was waiting for permission to be silly.

“Come on,” I said, nudging him gently toward the display. “You can be the one on the right.”

“What about you?” he asked, even as he stepped into position.

“I’ll be left.” I smiled. “We’ll let the captain take center.”

Maddie beamed.

A nearby planetarium staff member — young, kind-looking, with a smart camera clipped to her side — had been watching. I waved her over.

“Would you mind taking one for us?” I asked. “She’s really into the moment.”

“Of course,” she said with a grin, already unclipping the device. “We’ve got a quick-print model. Want me to run a copy for you?”

“Yes please!” Maddie chirped from inside the helmet.

The staffer raised the camera. “Okay, astronauts — big smiles! Say ‘zero gravity!’”

“ZERO GRAVITY!” Maddie screamed, right in my ear.

I laughed so hard I nearly knocked the cardboard loose.

Click.

After, we stepped out and leaned together to look at the screen on my phone. The photo was... chaotic. Maddie’s expression was wild-eyed and joyful, mine a little blurry from laughing, and Spencer—

Spencer was smiling.

Not that small, nervous half-smile he gave strangers. Not the polite, professional one.

He didn’t even notice he had that smile on—he couldn’t have noticed the way it made my heart flutter out of my chest.

The attendant stepped aside, tapping at the small screen, and within seconds, a glossy photo began printing from the side. She handed it to Maddie, who took it like it was the single most valuable object in the galaxy.

“Oh my gosh, look at me!” she squealed. “I look so cool.”

As she spun in a circle with the photo, Spencer stepped forward — quiet, casual, almost as if trying to be discreet. It was as if he didn’t want us to know he wanted to keep this moment. “Is it possible to print one more?”

“Sure thing,” the staffer said, feeding the request into the machine.

He waited, then slipped the second print into his wallet when he thought we were not looking, but I was. I was looking, and I was melting.

The man I met not so long ago — guarded, uncertain, stitched together by his own quiet grief — was now keeping a picture of the three of us in his wallet.

Like we were his.

Like he wanted us to be.

And God, if I wasn’t already so in love with him… this would’ve been the moment.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Maddie said, tugging at the hem of my sweater and breaking the thought clean in half.

“There’s a cafeteria here,” Spencer said gently, glancing down at her, then at me. “It’s just past the next exhibit hall.”

I nodded, still catching up with my own heartbeat. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Maddie was already on the move, leading the way as if she knew exactly where she was going — like she’d memorized the map in her dreams. Spencer fell into step beside me, and for a moment, we didn’t say anything.

We didn’t need to.

“Let’s go sit at that table with the stars on top!” Maddie shouted, already halfway there before either of us had a chance to say yes. Her shoes lit up with every step like she was walking across a galaxy. She was positively buzzing — like the gift shop, the theater, and the entirety of outer space were somehow all crammed into this little lunchroom.

“Star table it is,” I said, watching as she hurried to the table. “Sweetheart, Spencer and I will go get the food. Don’t move from the table.”

“Okay!” she chirped, already climbing into the seat like she was buckling into a spaceship.

We turned toward the line, and I could already feel it — the way Spencer’s presence settled beside me. Close, but never overbearing. Just there. In that way he always was now.

“She’s in full astronaut mode today,” I said as we grabbed a tray.

“She’s very committed to the mission,” he smiled beside me, “I think she thinks this is her command center.”

“She’s not wrong,” I murmured. “We’re just lucky she hasn’t tried to assign us matching uniforms yet.”

He chuckled — a low, unguarded sound that slipped right through his ribs and out his mouth. I was convinced i would never get tired of hearing it.

I grabbed us a spot in line while he hovered near Maddie, making sure she was safe and wouldn’t cause any havoc from her excitement. From a distance, they already looked like a family. They were a picture I’d dreamed up once and forgotten, only to stumble into it again by accident.

By the time he joined me in line, I’d pulled myself back together. Mostly.

“She’ll want the mac and cheese,” I said, scanning the kid’s menu. “But she’s going to ask for no green things.”

“No green things?” Spencer echoed, like he was entering it into some invisible file.

“She has a personal grudge against anything remotely herbaceous,” I said. “If there’s a microscopic fleck of parsley on the edge of the plate, she will know.”

“She sounds like a tiny food critic,” he said, looking entirely too fond.

“She once asked a waiter if he knew spinach was actually poison,” I deadpanned.

Spencer laughed — He kept laughing throughout the day, and I swear, each time it chipped away at whatever guard I’d carefully built between us. Weakening me in the best, most dangerous way.

I just looked at him.

And he looked back, eyes warm, mouth tugged into this impossibly soft smile. It made me feel like my ribs might disintegrate under the pressure of how much I wanted him.

I was sure I was blushing. I could feel it blooming up my neck, burning behind my ears.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease or ask what I was thinking. He just… kept looking. Like I was something worth paying attention to.

And I wanted to stay right there — suspended in that silence, caught in the gravity of him — for just a little longer.

But then Maddie waved at us from the table like she was trying to land a plane, and I exhaled, breaking the moment before it could swallow me whole.

We got our food and made it back to the table, where Maddie had arranged her napkin like a placemat.

“Mac and cheese, no green things,” Spencer said, placing the tray in front of her. “Just how the captain likes it.”

She looked up at him like he’d just granted her a wish. “How’d you know that?”

“Well, Maddie, you forget I’m a wizard,” he said, like it was obvious. Like there was no other explanation necessary.

She looked absolutely enchanted. I looked at him.

And there it was again — that quiet pull in my chest. The part of me that ached in a way that wasn’t painful, just… full. Too full.

I slid into the seat across from him, setting my drink down as Maddie arranged her napkin like it was part of a formal galactic dinner.

Spencer took a bite of his hot dog and immediately got mustard on his sleeve.

“Oh,” I said, grabbing a napkin. “Hold still.”

“I’m fine—”

“I know.” I smiled, dabbing at the spot anyway. “You’re not being arrested. I just don’t want you to look like a guy who lost a fight with a condiment.”

He held still. Let me wipe at his sleeve like it was the most natural thing in the world. No awkward flinching. No muttering about how it didn’t matter.

Just... stillness.

Trust.

“You didn’t even try to stop me,” I teased, tossing the napkin into a pile.

“I figured you’d win anyway,” he said, voice softer now.

I glanced up. He was already looking at me.

And suddenly the table felt smaller. The air thicker. Not in a bad way — just charged. Like something unspoken had landed between us, and neither of us quite knew what to do with it.

“I don’t always win,” I said.

“You always do with me,” he replied — then took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t just casually short-circuited my brain. “You two always do.”

Maddie, mercifully, broke the silence by nudging his arm. “Can I have some of your cookie?”

He blinked, like he’d momentarily forgotten she was even there. “Of course.”

He broke it in half and handed her the bigger piece.

I watched it all — the soft way he passed it to her, the quiet smile on his face when she called him “Space Wizard” again.

And the hum in my chest — that same one from the gallery — came back full force.

We lingered at that star-covered table longer than I meant to. Long enough for Maddie to finish her meal and long enough for Spencer to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth without thinking. Long enough for me to realize — again — that he fit here. With us. So effortlessly it almost hurt.

Eventually, Maddie pointed toward the glowing sign near the exit and gasped like she’d just discovered treasure.

“The gift shop!”

I didn’t even have time to respond before she was on her feet, stuffing her bag under one arm and dragging Spencer by the hand with the other.

“Come on, come on, come on!” she cried, bouncing with every step. “We have to get space stuff!”

Spencer looked back at me helplessly as she pulled him along, and I just laughed, tossing our trash away and hurrying to catch up.

The gift shop was a blur of overpriced glow-in-the-dark toys, constellation kits, stuffed astronauts, and themed candy. It should’ve been overstimulating — the kind of place that gave parents a headache.

But for some reason, it felt… nice.

Warm.

Maddie darted from aisle to aisle, narrating every item like it was part of an expedition. I followed behind, but Spencer stuck close to her, letting her explain which rocks were “actually from the real moon” and which plushies were “too pretty.” He took it all in with that same quiet interest — like none of it was beneath him.

After a while, she held up a glow-in-the-dark space puzzle, her arms barely able to carry the box.

“This one! Mommy, please? It glows like actual stars!”

I took it from her to check the price, already reaching for my wallet.

But Spencer was faster.

He stepped in without a word, card already in hand.

“Spencer,” I warned, but he didn’t look at me — just handed it to the cashier with a polite smile.

“I’ve got it.”

“I thought we agreed you were gonna let me pay this time,” I muttered, trying not to smile.

He glanced over at me then, that little gleam in his eye like he knew exactly what he was doing. “No, you said that. I said maybe.”

“Smartass.”

“Mommy,” Maddie said, peeking up at me with wide, curious eyes. “What’s a smart ass?”

I froze. Spencer turned very still beside me, lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh.

“It’s… uh…” I cleared my throat. “It’s a type of donkey. Very clever. They use them in space missions sometimes.”

Maddie blinked slowly, unconvinced.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly.

Spencer coughed into his hand. “She’s kind of right, actually. There’s no documentation on NASA space donkeys.”

“See!” Maddie said, triumphant.

I gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying not to laugh,” he whispered back, and God, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled — I wanted to bottle it.

The cashier handed over the bag with a smile. “You three make such a cute family.”

The world tilted.

Just slightly.

And then I felt it — the shift in Spencer beside me. Subtle, but instant. The way his body tensed. The way the warmth drained from his smile just enough to feel it.

He spoke before I could.

“Oh—uh, we’re not a family.”

It was quick. Sharp. Like he wanted to make sure it was said before it could be misinterpreted — before the moment could get away from him. His voice had that practiced ease to it, but I heard the hitch underneath. The flicker of nerves.

And still, it stung.

It shouldn’t have. I knew it shouldn’t have. Because he wasn’t wrong. We’re not a family. That word carries weight, permanence, things we’ve never said out loud — maybe never even let ourselves think for more than a second. We’ve been orbiting something unnamed for weeks, months. Carefully. Cautiously. Never too close.

But maybe, deep down, I’d started to believe in the blur between what we are and what we could be.

Maybe I liked living in that bubble. The warm, soft, unspoken place where our mornings felt like rituals and our laughter echoed like it belonged to something bigger. Where he kept photos of us in his wallet. Where Maddie called him a wizard. Where we just... fit.

And now the bubble had burst.

One sentence. One reflex. And suddenly everything felt colder.

I forced a smile. The kind you give strangers who compliment your outfit — small, polite, harmless. I didn’t let it reach my eyes.

He quickly payed for the puzzle, like he wanted to get out of there as soon as he could.

“Right,” I said, like it hadn’t scraped against something raw inside me. “Just friends.”

We stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the sky now a gentler blue, the kind that comes after a long day of wonder.

Maddie skipped ahead of us on the sidewalk, her sparkly bag swinging wildly in her grip, pigtails bouncing with every uneven step. She was narrating something to herself — something about stars and space wizards and how she was going to “glow in the dark” when she got home.

I couldn’t make out the words. I wasn’t really listening.

I clutched the museum bag in my hand a little tighter, fingers curled too tightly around the soft plastic. It crinkled loudly with every step. I didn’t let go.

Spencer walked beside me, just close enough that our arms nearly brushed. He said something — something low, something gentle. A comment about the gift shop or the sun or Maddie’s energy levels. I couldn’t even tell.

I nodded. Maybe I smiled. I don’t know.

I just kept walking.

Because my heart was still back at the checkout counter, sitting quietly next to the words we’re not a family.

He didn’t mean anything by it. I know he didn’t.

And even if he did… he’s not wrong, we’re not a family.

But that doesn’t stop the part of me that wishes we were — That he wanted us to be.

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[rexhya]

officially unofficial — ✦ ✦

warn — collage au, suggestive, angst

incl — my favorite red head

your beginning to think your going insane

kirishima is probably one the nicests guy you've met, loyal like a dog, caring, respectful. everything you would look for in a man, or in this case, a bestfriend.

but thats just the issue, you couldnt be sure if your relationship could be described as friend like.

you currently on top of him, loud and sloppy kisses being pressed into his lips, trying not to let the heat overtake you. but it's so fucking hot, his hands in places you'd only let him touch, grinding and groaning like he couldn't live without you.

then he puts his hands up your shirt, fiddling with your bra, and your heart stops. were you really going this far with your supposed best friend? a guy you'd probably been in love with since you'd met him, who you weren't even sure had feelings for you?

suddenly your overwhelmed, tearing your lips away from him and climbing off his lap, he's confused of course. "fuck, are you okay?"

"i, i can't i don–im sorry-" he cuts you off, holding your shoulders gently.

"woah woah woah, slow down, i'm sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. that was to much, i get it, i was just...getting ahead of myself." you only nodded, straightening out your clothes and backing up towards the door.

kirishima looks hurt, "where are you going? again that was to much, i'm sorry. we can just hang out ya know, watch movie, do something chill. i didnt mean to scare you.." he whispered, and you almost gave into the thought.

that was until you remembered how his touch lit you on fire and how yours probably gave him a mild sense of satisfaction he wanted to keep.

you shook your head.

"i..i can't, maybe another day. I have to go home" you sputtered, stomping on your shoes, picking up your bag and slamming the door behind you.

kirishima was left there shocked, you were probably just overwhelmed or something, he'd done to much, gone to far, why had he done that? he couldn't even remember.

but it was fine, you'd said maybe another time. meaning you'd be with him in his arms sooner or later, he was fine. you were fine.

the both of you were fine.

✦ ✦

the both of you were not fine.

you'd walked right past him in the hallways today and kirishima knew you'd seen him because as soon as you did you turned the other direction.

weird, but it was probably just someone behind him you didn't want to talk to. maybe monoma or that girl who'd been bitching to you about her boyfriend for ages. either way, it couldn't have been him? right?

he smiles as usual, but his friends can tell. the not to secret [Name] and Kiri situationship has been broken up.

eijirou is craving your presence which makes it all the worse when you seem to be doing just fine without him.

your laughter more joyful, your smile more pleasant. he loves it and he hates it at the same time.

he'd be lying if he didn't admit he missed you, first and foremost you were his best friend everything complicated and messy came after.

"you havent been around much.." he starts, thankful for the sparse amounts of students in the common room at the moment.

"yeah." is all you say, you don't even spare him a glance, and his heart breaks a little more.

"so..where have you been?" he tries again, a pained chuckle releasing from his lips.

"studying." your picking at your nails, and eijrou almost sobs when he realizes just how far away you really were, opposite end of the couch, knees facing away from him.

he wants to hold you and beg to tell him whats wrong, but instead he just looks trying to find your eyes and failing.

"did..did I do something wrong, I mean i know i was probably being pretty obnoxious but i'm really sorry an-"

"you embarrassed me kirishima." and he flinches a little at your words and at the loss of the sweeter nicknames you usually use for him.

"I--what?"

this is when you finally face him, and kirishima can see it now, the tears threatening to fall and your pained expression, you weren't mad at him.

you were sad.

"you're so kind, so sweet, you kiss me and you cuddle me and do all these things that couples should do, but that's not what we are, everytime you introduce me as your bestfriend, your ride or die as you like to put it. and everytime i cringe because i re-remember how casual this whole thing is for you, and hoe casual it isnt for me, and 2 days ago, when you tried that on me the thought of loosing my virginity to a guy who still calls me his bestfriend even after everything we've done hurt more than anything in the world.

kirishima was speechless, and ge scrambled for words as you left, ignoring the bystanders who'd not s sneakily began to listen in.

but there was one thing for certain, kirishima had fucked up royally, and now would do anything in his power to fix it.

[raayllum]

When he was a boy, Corvus hadn't liked his name very much.

He'd sulk after his father as they checked snares in the woods, black-feathered birds chirping overhead. Most of the village didn't come out this far, seeing them as bad omens, but his father was not most people, apparently, stroking his mustache thoughtfully, his blue scarf wrapped around his broad shoulders.

"Why'd you have to name me after them?" Corvus had complained.

His father'd spared a glance skyward. "You know why. They're your mother's favourite."

"Yes, but—they're bad omens."

"Says who?"

"Everyone."

His father chortled. "Just because everybody says something doesn't make it true, son."

"Yes, but—" Everybody said his younger brother Antoni was better natured than him; easier to get along with, easier to understand, and smiled at all the right times. He was never cold. Never standoffish or too quiet.

"Ravens are perceptive," his father had carried on. They were nearly to the snare now. "Clever. So are you. Would you rather be like Lord Bradford's boy, named without thought at all?"

Better that than to be named after ravens, Corvus had thought glumly, who gathered together are known as an unkindness, but—

"Still no luck at naming the city?" Corvus says, turning away from the trees to bring two cups of tea to main table at the Banther Lodge.

Terry sits by the dim light of the window, the sun long since set. His lips twitch upwards, though, as Corvus sits down across from him. "It's hard to find something that will work for all of Xadia," Terry says. "The books Lady Opeli—"

"Cleric," Corvus corrects softly, smiling; it turned out Earthblood elves didn't have those, and so he kept forgetting.

"Right, Cleric—the books she gave me about the Pentarchy are interesting, but if I pull from just one of the kingdoms, the others will be upset. And if I pull just from human languages—"

"Xadia won't be happy."

Terry snaps his fingers. "Exactly."

And it's not like naming the city is exclusively Terry's task, but much the way Soren has thrown himself into rebuilding Katolis to not think about his sister, Corvus suspects Terry is doing the same to avoid thinking about his ex.

"I'm afraid I'll be little help," Corvus says. "Neither myself or my family has ever been very good with names."

"Really?" Terry gives him a tiny, sincere smile. "But your name is so pretty."

"For the raven family, really?"

"Ravens—Moon and Earth ravens, I guess, are good luck for my people. They're symbols of kindness. Reminders of it too. There's been enough cruelty, don't you think?"

"Hm." There's a strange warmth that spreads down to his toes, and it's not just the hot tea in his mug as Corvus takes a sip and considers. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he says confidently. "You did a very good job choosing your name, didn't you?"

Choosing his own path, again and again, when the time came to choose. It reminds Corvus a little of Soren.

Terry's smile widens, light in his eyes not just for the people around him that Corvus sees often, but for himself too. He deserves more of it, Corvus thinks, after all of Claudia's darkness. "Yeah." Terry exhales in almost a snort, tension ebbing out of his shoulders. "I guess I did."

[1800i-dont-write-fanfiction]

what if we kissed... and also i told you i’m fen’harel

“She makes you brittle,” Cole said once, not looking at me, “Fade fractured, bones breaking back into place; still hurt but healing.” 

I did not respond.

“You’re here, like a string tied at both ends. One pulls, the other pulls too.” 

I sighed. “And I am nearly at the end.” 

“She followed without feet. It hurts because you remember how it was,” he said simply.

I turned to leave, as if the act might spare me the truth of it. 

Before we journeyed to the Arbor Wilds, I believed I could walk Mythal’s temple and remain unmoved. Foolish, in hindsight. The stone there was older than mortal memory, nearly older than my own, and that was no small feat. Though I feared them lost to time, her sentinels endured; what they lacked in numbers retained in faith. Some part of the old world yet lived.

Ellana was beside me. It was, I felt, ironic at best and tormentable at worst. 

Her silence was expectant, but companionable, walking as something perilously close to an equal– radiant in her ease. And though my kin assessed her with disdain, I could no longer bring myself to share in their condescension. I ached for the sting in her brow; rejected, renounced by Sorrow even as they wore the same brand. 

And though I had lived long enough to call love folly, I would have suffered any ridicule to deserve the way she looked at me when she thought I was good. I wanted to laugh. To take her hand and guide her through the temple I knew so well. To whisper what I would do to her when this was over.

In the beginning, I had no name besides Wisdom. I lived unburdened by want, save the pursuit of knowledge. I understood, but did not ache. I existed to guide, to temper. Duty was my first tether, but it was love that answered her call. When I took shape at Mythal’s behest, I came not from compulsion but adoration. Benevolence shaped me into flesh and called me useful. 

A beam of light poured through a fractured corner of the roof and kissed the curve of her cheek. And I, ancient, burdened, possessed of unfathomable guilt, wondered for perhaps the thousandth time what I had done to warrant this . And then, more daringly, whether I might one day outrun it.

Abelas had dismissed her with little more than a glance, sneering because he could not see what had taken me nearly two years to learn. And what a privilege it had been, to be proven wrong, time and time again. Even so, I watched her stand before him, still humble and bright and unbowed, though he offered her only the cold inheritance of his disappointment.

Deeper in the temple, we passed beneath an archway softened by time, reclaimed by moss. Her gaze lifted, studying the pillar with a kind of earnest curiosity, as though she were trying to summon the memory of what it might have been when the world was whole. She could not know its former shape. But had she known the truth of me, she might have asked. And I would have told her of its design, and the meaning carved into every line, and the hands that first gave it form.

This was your world once, she would say. Show me.

And I would have spoken freely. She would have listened. A promise.

And I think to myself: I will tell her today. 

It nearly escaped me more than once, like a secret too staggering to contain. "Ellana, I–" But I stopped myself, always, because I feared what sound might dwell in the space between us. The kind of truth that unmakes a man, living behind clenched teeth with a name like mine. My heart thundered with the ridiculous hope that if I waited, just a little longer, I could offer the truth in earnest. 

She lifted a brow, a question forming in silence. Waiting for me to continue; gently, expectantly. 

I did not.

There were moments when the weight lifted. Mine came in the hush between footsteps, as she walked ahead of me through wet grass, her boots sinking into the earth. When the sky heavy with the promise of rain, and her breath curled in the air like the smoke from a half-doused fire. Let her walk with me in silence. Let her smile at nothing, and reach toward the future as if it might love us back. 

When the time was right. When we were alone. When she was rested, when the storm had passed, when she smiled without effort–

When it would not burden her.

Now, time is a luxury I cannot afford. And yet, when I look at her, I believe: It is not too late.

What occurred at the Temple of Mythal did not change anything, it merely revealed what I had already begun to accept: that inaction no longer served me where she was concerned. Inadvertently, I had already chosen her. 

It often startled me, how quickly she’d become the axis around which my desire spun. And as I watched Abelas leave the sanctum that day, a horrible, profound realization came upon me: no one remained to stop me. I had seen release in the tilt of his shoulders. How it was possible, I am not entirely certain. However, I felt the weight of my own chains shift as he laid down his burden, stepping into the unknown. Perhaps I could do the same, I thought. As though there were another choice before me. I could leave the temple as the man she knew. As Solas , as I wanted. A quiet resolve. 

And I think to myself: I will tell her today.

It was not a decision I made in anguish. I had imagined it a thousand ways, rewritten each word in my mind until they became the prayers her people sang for my enemies. I had made peace with the risk. There was a stutter in my chest that felt like joy, because she was real and she was mine . For once, I did not feel ancient; I felt absurdly, wonderfully young. I almost believed the world might forgive me.

I have known love before. What she offered me was different.

Spacious enough to contain my regret without needing to silence it. Complete without justification. She did not reach into the past to unearth what I had hidden, nor cast her gaze toward what I might yet become. For all her youth, she understood something I had not considered; that to try and possess me would be to reshape me. She reached for my hand in the dark, never asking what shadows I might carry.

And so I learned that love withers in the hands of ownership, having mistaken purpose for affection since first drawing breath. 

I know she must love me too– not merely in words, but in the quiet evidence of her choice when there were so many other things to choose. I did not love her as a man loves a woman, it was not so simple. It was not so small, for I loved her as marrow loves bone. As lightning loves the storm that bears it. Her voice had threaded itself through my thoughts so deeply I could not distinguish memory from presence. My face felt warm.

“She makes you brittle,” Cole said once, not looking at me, “Fade fractured, bones breaking back into place; still hurt but healing.” 

I did not respond.

“You’re here, like a string tied at both ends. One pulls, the other pulls too.” 

I sighed. “And I am nearly at the end.” 

“She followed without feet. It hurts because you remember how it was,” he said simply.

I turned to leave, as if the act might spare me the truth of it. 

I do not fear her fury when it comes. I fear her silence. Yet I believe, and hope perhaps, there might be neither. She would understand. I would reach for her then, finally. And when it all was over, we’d depart. Tucked far from the world’s unmaking, she’d tease me for the solemn way I spoke. I’d chide, and she would laugh, and I would laugh too. And I would carry her like a torch in the dark. 

I looked at her. I looked through her. Where my heart became a silent thing, I find this age, for all its cruelty, unspeakably beautiful because she is in it. “Come with me, vhenan,” I said, before I could stop myself. A vow.

And I think to myself: I will tell her today.

[lilimaginebean]

five days - 五日

synopsis: In which Kaiser fell in love with his tattoo artist, or in which Kaiser has only five appointments to convince you to go on a date with him.

note: hi, hope you enjoy this part and thanks for the support :))

prev | next

🥀 Day 2

"Are you a Bastard München fan?" you asked Kaiser during a break in the session.

He frowned at your question. You thought it was a normal question because he was wearing a team shirt.

"Well, I guess I can say I'm a bit of a fan," he admitted with a shrug, "Have you seen any of their matches?"

"I'm not a fan, so no, never. The only time I watch something of that is during the World Cup," you admitted.

It had been 3 weeks since the last session. Although you'd never admit it, you'd been counting the days until you'd see Kaiser again. But you weren't the only one, Kaiser, being the fool and loser that he was, had also been eagerly awaiting this day. Too bad today's training was too long, so he was unable to take a proper shower and dress up for you. So he entered your studio in his uniform, sweaty and with a messed-up haircut.

"It looks good on you," you admitted, unaware that Kaiser was blushing and trying to cover it up with his hand.

Like last time, he sat there whistling to the song. How could he act as if nothing had happened? When you told him to "shoot" his question, you didn't expect it to hit you like a real bullet. Obviously, you refused his request. The reason? You barely knew him, and you excused yourself by saying you had a busy schedule.

"Isn't it strange?" you finally asked him, "I mean, I rejected you..."

"Oh Liebling you didn't reject me. You rejected my plan, know the difference. You didn't even reject my plan, you said you couldn't because you were busy last month. Lucky for me, it's a new month, right?"

You couldn't keep a straight face at his sly comments.

"But be honest... Why did you turn it down? You said it was because you were overworked, but every time I passed by the studio you were eating your lame veggie sandwich or talking to your clients," Kaiser commented with a grin.

You put your hand to your heart and pretend to be offended by such accusations.

"Okay, first of all, veggie sandwiches cannot be lame. Secondly, I was really busy, apparently you just caught me on my break. And last but not least, we only met a few hours ago before you asked me that. I don't know anything about you, maybe you're a criminal," you said, trying to defend your poor excuse and the veggie sandwiches you used to make so lovingly.

"Oh, that could be so easily solved, Liebling. I am a Bastard München fan, as you can see, and my work might be related to that. My hometown is Berlin. I love crusty bread, dogs and winter. And in my spare time I take long showers, read, think about myself, and when I'm motivated I think about who I'd like to kill," he said unperturbed.

You just stopped doing everything to process all the information he gave to you.

"Well, I wasn't so wrong to think you were a criminal," you said, and took your job back.

"You're too beautiful to be killed, don't worry Liebling, my thoughts of you are anything but killing you," he said confidently, you giggled.

“Oh, how lucky I must be”

“You have no idea” he assured “What about you?”

"Well, as you can see, I work here. I love autumn, promenading and those mouse shaped sweets from the sweet shop. In my spare time I like to stay in my small but cosy apartment. And... we have just finished this session," you said as you stood up and stretched a little.

"You are really talented," Kaiser said smirking at you while admiring the new part of the tattoo

"Tell me something I don’t know. Come on, I have an another appointment in 5 minutes"

You escorted Kaiser to the exit, where he put his black cap and face mask back on. Before he left, he stared at you for a few seconds.

"Now that we know more about each other, would you like to go out with me? Come on Liebling, you know the best way to get to know another person is to go out, you can't expect to know me in just an hour" Kaiser asked as he opened the door

How could he be so convincing? Maybe you weren't sure about the date the last time, but today you really were. Still, you could be a bit of a teaser, and maybe you wanted to see if Kaiser was really interested in you.

"The last time you asked me, you were dressed as the owner of five clubs, and today you ask me out dress like that. Come on, where is this spoilt brat? Michael Kaiser, you can do better," you admitted, giving him a bold look.

He chuckled under his mask.

"You really do have high standards, don't you? Don't worry Liebling, next time you won't have any excuse to refuse me. Trust me".

[s3raphimssins]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: mafia! dazai x civilian! reader (slight angst)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷plot: oh our dear demon prodigy fell in love, I guess you could really say opposites attract but how would his miracle react to him when he's not himself?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's Note: AHH okay so this is based off a chat I had with his bot and it inspired me to write thisss so hope you like itt!!! Gender neutral reader as far as I've read! :D Have a great day/night! xoxo, mwah 🩷

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: slight gore (I mean it's mafia dazai guys) slight angst if you squint, a torture scene 😮‍💨 (interrogation) dazai calls the reader angel

MY PRECIOUS MIRACLE

The demon prodigy, the notorious mafia executive, fallen in love with a mere civilian? He found it curious, he himself pondered over that question for hours when he was not thinking about ways to kill himself. Perhaps it was your innocence that drew him in? Perhaps it was the fact that your smile was so pure so genuine it intrigued him how you did so. Nevertheless you found yourself in his office swinging your legs as he slacked off of work.

He would spare you glances during his fit of rolling on the floor. You just started at him with a smile to which he felt if not a lot but a little at ease. "This so so boringgg, I've finished the game I was playing and I've tried to kill myself aswell there's nothing to doooo" He whines rolling on the floor. Key word tried to kill himself, you saw him and stopped him before he had a chance. You thought for a moment and said "well why don't you try working for a change". He was flabbergasted at that " How could you suggest something thats 10 times worse! Angel I thought you knew me better".

It was moments like these where you found it difficult to believe he was who the media portrays him as he shifted from rolling on the floor to clinging your leg complaining and whining about his job and how you were the best thing to happen to him. But of course you were quickly reminded of who he was as he heard a knock on his office door, he opened the door and someone said something that made his eyes shift to those of a traumatic child and a sadistic grin was plastered on his face. He turns around to you back to his normal self saying "I'll be back, don't try and kill yourself without me okay!" The duality of that guy and with that he left.

You had a lot to keep yourself busy with till the time he was gone but it had been 3 hours already and it had begun to get dark. You thought to go home but just wanted to inform Dazai incase he wanted to hop along, so you made your first mistake of the night, leaving his office. You roamed the headquarters earning a few condescending looks from the other members of the mafia, as they wondered who you were. Then a tall extremely well built guy approached you after noticing you looking for something and bent down to ask you "lost little fella? ". That was your que to get the heck out of the vicinity, so you just gave an awkward chuckle and ran off somewhere.

You stumbled across a room which you didn't bother reading the plaque of and opened it in hopes to ask about Dazais whereabouts. What you didn't expect is to see none other that Dazai himself. Only he was not Dazai. He was the demon prodigy who the media and the people spoke of. He stood in front of a man? At least you think it was a man, he was chained to the wall and he was alive? Hopefully because the condition he was in looked like he a corpse. Dazai held pliers in his hands, and the man let out an agonizing scream as your Dazai ripped one of his nails out with a sadistic smile. "So now, who do you work for? " He asked in a voice that was devoid of emotion.

Your breath got stuck in your thought as you felt paralyzed unable to move. He noticed the presence of someone else behind him as he looked behind to meet his gaze with you only you searched for him in his eyes but he wasn't there. All he said was a simple "get out" And you left the room. Your thoughts were getting louder and louder, as you thought of the scene you had just witnessed, you should've known what you'd be getting yourself into when he told you about his job, and when you agreed to stay with him despite that, but still what you witnessed took a huge toll on you and you couldn't get the picture of that man off your mind. You ran into his office trying to grab your stuff but your hands trembled and your legs wobbled, you plopped down on the couch immediately trying to calm your nerves.

In the meantime as you were trying to your face in your arms hidden in your legs as you tried to collect your thoughts you felt the cushion beside you dip down. You snapped your head up to see non other than Dazai himself tho he no longer had that look in his eyes. "You weren't supposed to see me like that" Was all he said as he avoided your gaze. You looked at him as your breathing regulated and your trembling hands became stable. After a moment of silence you cupped his face in one of your hands to bring him to look at you, you looked in his eyes, they were different than before, they were the same adoring eyes he would always look at you with. You sighed and before you could day anything he spoke "I'm sorry, if you want to leave you can, I won't stop you, I am unworthy of anyones love especially yours, you should live a normal life and not get involved with someone like me".

Why was he saying this, of course you knew about his struggles with love but deep down he really needed it, but all those boundaries that you with so much efforts broke down were starting to build up again and you couldn't have that. "They could never make me hate you Zai" You said softly assuring him "I was just... Taken aback with the scene unfolding infront of me, I was the one who agreed to stay by your side even after you constantly told me not to, I can't just throw that away not can I? " You said and with all your strength you smiled, the same smiled which he melted seeing. He didn't do it but you could tell by the look on his eyes he wanted to hug you, to assure himself that you were right there with him and you didn't disappear like everyone did. So you wrapped your arms around him carefully and for a minute he just stayed like that until his tense shoulders dropped and he hugged you back tightly afraid of letting go.

"Just remember... No matter what you become or what you have to do, I will always adore you" You said assuring him, knowing he how conflicted he was feeling inside. And Dazai himself would never admit it but for the first time a genuine soft smile came on his face as he spoke "im so glad to have met you... My precious miracle"

[harrywavycurly]

I love the banter with Niall and reader! Could we see how they talk on the phone or something? 😇

Hiii babes!! So happy you like their banter 😂 I will happily give you some random phone/facetime convos between the two of them! I hope you enjoy 💖

-find all things boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

“Why do you even read that trash?” “It’s not trash Niall it’s how I keep up to date on my celebrity gossip…oh god…why do they always use the most unflattering photos of me in these things?” “No such thing as an unflattering photo of you babe…definition of beauty you are…broke the mold they did when they made you…no one even comes-” “that’s enough thank you…oh guess what I just found out.” “Uh Harry has six nipples and an eleventh toe?” “No…but apparently we’ve been secretly married for two years.” “Huh and here I was thinking that I’d always remember my wedding day…” “oh and you’ll love this…I haven’t been seen drinking in a few weeks so that means I’m pregnant.” “Come again?” “I’m pregnant.” “You’re what?” “Oh god no…no like I’m just reading you what they are saying in the teen magazines Niall I’m not-” “you’re fucking pregnant and you’re telling me on FaceTime? What the-” “breathe Niall! In and out…deep breaths okay? I’m not pregnant…I’m just telling you that the world thinks I am because I haven’t been drinking-” “I can’t feel my legs…I’m gonna pass out.” “Jesus you’re so dramatic…” “I’m dramatic? You’re the one who cried and stomped your feet in the middle of a pub because they didn’t have anymore fucking chips.” “I was drunk and upset okay?” “Yeah well my secret wife just told me she was secretly pregnant so I’m also upset okay?” “That brings me to the question apparently everyone wants to know the answer to…why do you hide me so much Niall? Are you embarrassed of me?” “Oh right I hide you so much that I bring you everywhere with me and even talk about you in interviews and post you on my instagram…but yeah you’re my little secret…” “I love you…wanna hear about Brad Pitt’s newest love interest?” “I love you too…still not over him and Angelina splitting…that shit was messy.”

“These are your options lover and if you don’t see one you like too fucking bad I’m not going to another shop.” “You talk so sweet to be Niall…oh is that a magnum bar?” “Uh…yes…yes it is…that the winner?” “Yes that’s the winner…oh is that cookies and cream?” “Nope…your eyes are messing with you babe.” “Did you just lie to me Niall James Horan?” “No….yes?…but only because I know you’re gonna make me pick one for you and I’m gonna end up picking the wrong one and you’re gonna be annoyed and…I just say go with the first one you saw and…and you know what? fuck it I’ll get both…I’m good for it.” “Yeah…you’re good for it.” “I’ve got a few spare dollars for the love of my life’s ice cream addiction…”

“Oh hello there my darling girl…I just got your little to do list thingy and I have questions.” “Okay lover of mine…what questions do you have?” “Number one…why the bloody fuck is this list called my lover’s list of things to try when all it has on it are errands you need me to run and like…chores and shit? That title would make one think this list is full of…other…things like…for the bedroom.” “Because you haven’t ever done anything on that list so therefore you’re going to be trying it…hence the name my lover’s list of things to try.” “I beg your fucking pardon? I have mowed the bloody lawn before thank you very much.” “Oh have you?…really? Wanna tell me when?” “Uh..when…I lived in that house in uhm L.A by myself…” “You’re so full of shit…you got half way down one side of your lawn and gave up because you didn’t have the blade dropped properly.” “Oh I love it when you talk lawn care to me baby…it’s so sexy.” “Did you see what was last on the list my little handy man?” “Uh no let me take a gander….Jesus fuck you can’t go writing things like that on a list I’m meant to take out in public.” “Sorry next time I’ll send it to you via email then is that better?” “You really want me to try that on you….again? It didn’t go very well last time…” “that’s because you have no patience and tried to rush it.” “Okay that’s….yeah I did do that but you can’t fucking blame me I was just excited.” “Do you have any other questions Niall or can I get back to work?” “Yeah uh…is this list in any sort of order or can I do them as I want?” “Do them in the order they are written please…and thank you.” “At this rate I’m not gonna get to the last one till bloody Christmas.” “It’s six things Niall…don’t be such a ninny.” “God I love it when you’re mean to me…just does something to me.” “You’re so annoying…I have to go now okay? I love you and I’ll see you when I get home.” “I love you too…have a good rest of your day my little pet.”

“Hello? Baby? Are you okay?” “Uh yeah I’m fine why?” “Uhm well I’m on hole six and you normally don’t call me while I’m golfing unless you’ve run out of snacks or you’re hor-” “as if I’m the one who calls you when I’m in the mood you’re the one who calls me Mr. Small Talk…” “Baby…please don’t be offended but…do you need something?” “Oh shit I’m sorry no…I was just on my way home from target and you know how I like to talk on the phone while I drive.” “Target huh? How much did you blow on pointless shit?” “That’s none of your business….but sorry I’ll let you get back to your little uh…game?…round?…session?…thing…” “it’s amazing how little you know about a sport I’m so involved in…” “awe you think I’m amazing? You’re so sweet Niall.” “How far from the house are you?” “Why?” “I can spare a few minutes to keep you company till you get home.” “I am pulling into our neighborhood…who’s winning?” “Why do you ask such rude questions like that?” “Ah…it’s Harry isn’t it?” “No…not by much anyway…I still have time to come back and kick his lanky ass.” “That’s my man! Kick that Styles ass.” “If I win what do I get?” “Uh you get to rub it in his face and add a tally to your side of the scoreboard in the game room?” “How about if I win I get a proper blo-” “oh look at that I just got home…have a good rest of your game…love you! Bye!”

[aerixfixoff]

Einen verloren X

Chapter 10.5: the note.

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Mingi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Yandere, Horror, Slight Humor, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, implied violence, kidnapping, and controlling behavior.

Word Count: 989

Author’s Note: her note.

———————————————————————

To my Dearest P1Harmony,

It has been a long while since I last spoke with most of you. The silence between us has stretched like time itself, vast and unyielding. And yet, not a day has passed when I did not think of you all—of your faces, your voices, your laughter. You have grown. You have become men molded by the fires of the world we chose to live in. Strong, graceful, wise. And I have watched you, from a distance, with a heart full of longing and pride.

You moved on from that day—the day it all fell apart—and you kept walking, even with ashes at your feet. I never deserved the kind of love you gave me after everything that happened with Mingi and I. And yet, even after the betrayal, you stayed. You stood beside me when the world should have turned its back. I see that now. I see it all too clearly.

For that, I shall forever be in your debt.

I do not expect your forgiveness. Nor do I ask for it. But I do wish—before I leave this world, if such is my fate—to give you my heart one last time. Not for redemption, but remembrance. I was not kind to you. I took the purity of your trust and let it rust in my hands. Especially you, Soul and Intak… my two radiant stars.

Oh, Soul. There was a silence in you I never understood until now. A depth I mistook for coldness. But in truth, you were simply bearing the weight for all of us. You were our wall—unmoving, unbreakable. And Intak… your fire was the only warmth I truly felt in that cold world. You gave me joy when I could no longer recognize my own reflection. I loved you more than the fruit that hangs heavy on trees in spring, more than the sun that sets gently upon its land. My love for you both was so vast, not even the gods could comprehend it. If they could, perhaps they would have spared me.

I was greedy. I see that now. I was selfish. I wanted riches, power, influence… I wanted to carve my name into the stone walls of this cruel empire. I reached for a throne, not knowing that I was stepping on the very people who had always held me up. I abandoned love, not realizing how sacred it truly was—especially in a life like ours. Where the line between living and dying is thinner than a whisper. In the end, I would trade every ounce of gold for one more moment with you.

We should have fled when we had the chance. When the city slept and the world was quiet, we could have disappeared. I dreamt of it sometimes—running into the unknown, hand in hand with you boys, leaving this cursed path behind. But dreams, I suppose, are for people who still believe they deserve them.

And to my other three stars—Jongseob, Jiung, and Theo. My three handsome boys who bore the brunt of my bitterness, yet never turned their faces away from me.

Jongseob… you were the youngest, but always the bravest. A lion with a boy’s heart, too precious for the battlefield we forced you into. I was meant to shield you, not scar you. Jiung, your eyes always saw deeper than the rest. You knew when I was lying even when I couldn’t admit the truth to myself. You were the soul of our little family, and I wounded you the worst. And Theo, my gentle compass, you steadied me when I was a storm. You offered me a stillness I never knew I needed. I see it now. I see it all now.

Please… help me. Not because I deserve it, but because she does.

Keeho—my brother in every way that mattered. I always knew you never truly forgot about Y/N. Even as a boy, you carried her name in your bones. It was only a matter of time before fate weaved your paths together once more. I watched the way you softened when she was near. The way your voice grew quieter, more careful, as if afraid to shatter something too sacred. I knew then that your heart was never truly mine to hurt—it belonged to her long before she ever walked back into your life.

You trusted me with those five stars. You trusted me to protect them, to lead them when you could not. And I betrayed that trust. I broke them. I broke us. I broke you.

But Keeho… this is not about me anymore.

You know what Mingi is capable of. You know what kind of hell he will unleash if that shipment goes through. You know that if Y/N is caught in his grip, she will never walk free again. You know it. I know it. That is not what we wanted for her. That is not what any of us wanted—not for her, not for you, not for me.

I do not believe I will make it out alive. The odds have never been in my favor, and I have made far too many enemies to expect mercy now. I’ve accepted that. Death is no longer something I fear—it is simply the end of a song I never finished writing. But before I fall, I beg you: save her. Help her. Relocate her. Wipe her clean of all of this. Let her live the life we never could.

You are the only person I could think of who still has the strength to do this. The only one who can carry what I no longer can.

And as for the others…

Tell them I love them.

Tell them I never stopped.

Tell them that even in the end, even when my name fades from every record, my love will remain—with them.

Always.

From | Natty

of the Kiss of Life Clan

Chapter 11

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