#you have power and with it comes responsibility

[remiratboi]

Filled

Arranged Marriage Trope ~ 2.8K Words

Wolf-Hybrid!HusbandXHuman!GNFatReader

CW: Arranged marriage, distant relationship, mild bdsm, mild dom/sub vibes, dominant personality more than anything else, masturbation, knotting, size kink, breeding. Honestly it’s pretty tame compared to a lot of my stuff.

It was an arranged marriage. Two powerful families, a long time feud, and a wedding to forge the peace. It wasn’t unique, but it was uniquely awful for you.

Your new husband was a large, stoic wolf hybrid. He was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that. He was well over 6 feet, and his tight black dress shirts did little to hide the muscles he touted. His fur was dark grey, like a misty mountain range. Sometimes you imagined touching it.

You felt dwarfed, which wasn’t something your chubby ass had experienced much. So that was nice.

But that’s where the positives ended. Yes, you looked great on his arm, a slinky black gown to match his silky black slacks and shirt, but you had no connection.

He seemed uninterested or unwilling to get to know you. You figured, if you were going to have to spend your lives together, you could at least develop a friendship. It wasn’t the love filled marriage you’d dreamed of, but it could still be a partnership, nonetheless.

You tried everything you could think of to seduce the absolute brick of a man. You flirted with him during every interaction you could. You brought him little treats you had baked while he worked. You rubbed his shoulders after a long day. Nothing seemed to make him warm to you.

He seemed comfortable having you around, but also seemed to have no interest in interacting with you, unless you initiated it. It was starting to drive you mad.

You’d noticed little things about him that were more subtle. Things you didn’t realize he’d do. He always protected you when he was around. You were… clumsy to say the least, and the amount of times he’d caught your dumb ass as you were about to fall was kind of comical. It got to the point he always had a hand hovering around you. At your lower back, your hip, your thigh. It was almost like he gravitated around you.

Then there was his eyes. He didn’t express much on his face, in his dangerous line of work, he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop his eyes. You’d learned to read him from watching his eyes. You’d be in meetings together, and without fail you could guess his response. The subtle ways his brows furrowed when he was interested, and listening intently. Or the fire that flashed when he got annoyed.

You noticed his eyes when he looked at you as well. You couldn’t tell what it was, but there was a distinct, unique look in his eyes when he looked at you. And a faint blush to his cheeks when you caught him staring.

You’d started thinking maybe something would come of you two after all, but despite your ever boldening efforts, nothing happened.

Finally, after nearly a year of this new life, you were pent up, and frustrated. You shared a bed, which made any sort of self pleasure extremely difficult. Normally you could time things for when he was busy, or showering. But one night, much later than you would have liked to be asleep, your cunt throbbed.

You squirmed lightly in the large king size bed. He lay mere inches from you, soft snores rising from his chest. His face was serene, calm. You didn’t get to see him at peace very often. You’d begun to cherish seeing him like this.

You couldn’t focus long enough to go to sleep. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal. You wanted to be fucked. It had been so long. Prior to the wedding, you’d been told he’d expect you to fulfil certain… duties. But he’d never touched you in that way aside from a chaste kiss at your wedding.

You’d spent years of your life before meeting him, fearing the tyrant man you’d likely marry, and sometimes, dreaming about the handsome man you’d marry. But you were met with him, something you’d never expected or imagined. Uninterested.

You whined softly to yourself. You were desperate. He was asleep… right? You listened to his breathing. It sounded even. His soft snores solidified your decision.

You turned to lay on your back, a hand snaked down to gently rub your aching clit. You almost moaned out loud, your other hand whipping to your mouth to cover it. He was so close. He was so beautiful. You wanted him. It surprised you how confident you were in that asseratation. You spun your fingers in circles on your small bud while gazing at his face.

You imagined his hands on your body. Those huge, strong hands. What things had he done with those hands? The idea of such violence colliding with your soft, pliable body, had you stifling another moan.

You dipped lower and sunk two fingers into your cunt. You couldn’t help a whimper slipping through. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You wanted him to fill you, you wanted him to take you. Why couldn’t he just want you back?!

You groaned in frustration, your fingers desperately pushing in and out of you. You were starting to think you wouldn’t be able to cum while staring at his face, wanting him so badly.

“Please…” you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

His eyes snapped open. You yelped and scrambled to pull your fingers out of your body, your positioning clear.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He demanded, his voice dark, an edge you couldn’t place to it. He turned to look at you, his eyes raking down the thin sheet that covered you. Your pj shorts were pulled to your knees, your tank pulled up and over your chest. All that stopped him from seeing you on full display was that barely there sheet. You felt your nipples harden and his eyes flashed down from yours to stare.

“Answer.” He gave no room for argument. His eyes didn’t leave your chest.

“I, uh, I must have been having a bad dream. Sorry I wo-” he didn’t let you finish. He ripped the sheet off of your body and before you could even react, he climbed on top of you, pinning you down underneath him. He held your hands above your head in one thick fist, his knees in between your legs, holding them open. His other hand lightly caressed your round, soft tummy.

“Do not lie to me.” He whispered into your ear, leaning down so his face was next to yours. “You have one more chance to explain why you are almost naked, moaning out my name like a slut.”

Your cheeks burned. You turned your head and squeezed your eyes hoping maybe that would make it all go away.

His warm breath on your face told you it wouldn’t.

“I… I… I was just…” you didn’t know what to say. I was just fingering myself while desperately thinking about you fucking me?! Yeah… no.

He stared at your face. You peeked up at him, surprised by the slight smirk you could see playing in his lips. You had thought he was furious? But maybe…

“I was touching myself.” You spoke softly. Embarrassed still. Even with your soaking cunt spread open for him.

“What were you imagining?” He replied, not missing a beat.

“You.” You practically whispered. He groaned above you.

“Show me what you were doing.” He leaned back and let go of your wrists. He sat back on his calves, kneeled in between your thighs still. You looked up at him, eyes wide with uncertainty. He nodded curtly towards your exposed pussy. He brought his hands up to massage idly at your thick thighs. His thumbs ran along stretch marks and dimples near your hips.

You squirmed, hesitant to perform such a vulnerable action in front of another person. He turned his face from the flesh of your thighs he was handling, up to yours and caught your gaze. “This is your final warning. Do not push me, love.” His tone, deadly. You found your cheeks burning even hotter at the casual term of affection he’d used.

You couldn’t pull your eyes from his, but slowly lowered your hand down to your clit. You rubbed yourself unenthusiastically.

Your husband who had never seemed as wolf-like as he did now, tsked at you. “I don’t think pathetic movements like those were what made you moan my name.” He reminded you again of your embarrassment.

You whimpered and a shudder ran through him. You reached your fingers further, and pressed two shallowly into your cunt. You were surprised by how much more wet you had become. The fear, the uncertainty of his next move, had you on edge like never before.

“Now, tell me, no don’t stop moving.” He interrupted himself when you paused. “That’s right, now tell me, why were you imagining me while fingering yourself? Why were you staring at my face while trying to make yourself cum?” You thought your cheeks couldn’t have gotten more red and hot until he had said that.

“I, please, just let this go, and we can pretend nothing happened.” You begged him, pleading eyes gazing up at his unimpressed ones. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t listen very well, do you?” His tone was threatening. He flipped you over in the blink of an eye, and pressed your soft, round body into the bed. You felt his rock hard cock press into your ass from behind through his pyjamas. Your eyes flew open at the realisation of how turned on he was.

“Does that make you less self conscious, love?” He asked, patronisingly, grinding his hips against you. “You might even get a reward if you’re a good slut for me.” You felt yourself get even wetter, if that was possible.

“I was thinking about you fucking me, because I think I might be in love with you, and you never even give me the time of day, and we are just laying in this bed every night, so close and yet so far and I hate it and I don’t know what to do!” You shouted in a chaotic, blubbering stream. You gasped a breath after the words had finished tumbling from your mouth. You hadn’t really meant to say quite that many words…

For a long moment, your wolf hybrid husband was motionless above you. Your face was pressed into the mattress. Tears began to prick the edges of your eyes with each second that dragged on.

“But… I’m a monster?” He asked quietly. “I thought maybe you were just horny and wanted a quick fuck with a warm body.” He flipped you around, your face inches from his. He stared at you with large, round eyes. The stern, controlling man who held you seconds ago was gone, replaced by a shy puppy. “You love me?” He asked. You could see uncertainty flash through his eyes.

“You’re my husband.” You replied, the doubt clear even as you said the words.

The handsome man looking down at you scoffed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You didn’t choose me. You didn’t get to have a say. I didn’t want to take advantage of our situation. I know…” he trailed off. “I know there are unfair expectations for physical relations in arranged marriages, but I swore I’d never be that kind of man, I’d never push you to do anything. I promised myself I’d never let you know how desperately I wanted you.” His eyes widened as he seemed to realise what he said as he said it.

“You’re my mate, I think.” You spoke softly, uncertain of yourself as well. You reached up and pressed your hand against his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into your touch.

When he opened his eyes again, they were solid black. “Those are dangerous words, love.” He smelled your arousal on the hand that cupped his face. You hadn’t registered it was the hand previously fingering your cunt.

“I like danger.” You said despite its cheesiness. It worked. Your mate chuckled.

“You like monsters too?” He asked again. A smirk had replaced his wide eyed surprise. His hard cock pressing against your soft tummy reminded him of your current predicament. You nodded enthusiastically at his question.

“Who would have thought, my precious, little human mate would be a desperate slut for wolves.” You dipped your head at his words but he pulled your chin back up, dragging your eyes to meet his.

“I love you too, I have for a very long time.” He kissed you, long and hard. The first real kiss you’d ever shared. You felt yourself gripping him everywhere, both of your hands touching the others bodies. He squeezed your hips, fingers and claws digging into your flesh.

He nipped down your neck, not breaking the skin, but enough to leave a trail of marks. You felt his hand go to his waistband, and he groaned as he released his cock. You had known it would be big, but big didn’t even begin to describe the behemoth in front of you. You felt your face pale.

The wolf above you licked his lips. “I know you can take it. One of the reasons I like my partners to be a bit thicker, better to manhandle, eh?” He teased you.

You looked between his face and cock, and his apparent disregard of your concern just made you wetter.

“I can smell you, slut.” He looked down at you with smug eyes. “Yeah, you’ll take me alright. Even if it have to make you.” A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes, and you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You second guessed yourself. You started trying to protest, but he covered your mouth with one large hand. “Now now, none of that. As you said, you’re my mate. You’ll love it.”

He slowly worked his head into you, and it was already breathtaking. You felt fuller than you’d ever felt, but anxiety at his size rose even further. Before you had a chance to protest, he started pushing deeper.

He wasn’t rough, but he definitely wasn’t gentle. He fucked into you with shallow thrusts, each pushing deeper than the last, until you could feel his knot battering at your entrance. The stretch was overwhelming, but you could feel the shadow of pleasure behind it.

Once he was at his full length, minus the knot, he started fucking you in earnest. He bent your legs up and over his shoulders, and practically folded you in half. It felt amazing to be so easily manoeuvred. Any stress you’d carried about being too big for him, melted away with each desperate caress he gave you. It was like he couldn’t touch enough of you at once.

The pain from his size kept fading, but the pleasure only built. Soon you were loudly crying out with each thrust. He grunted above you. He spoke of filling you with his seed, breeding you.

You could feel your orgasm growing as his thrusts got rougher. His hand snaked up to your neck, and you watched a wicked smile cross his face. He pressed into your neck, squeezing your throat. Your hands raised to his arm, trying to pull him away. It was almost comical, your tiny fingers prying at his thick muscular arm.

You started seeing spots and panic filled you. Your husband stared directly into your eyes as you struggled beneath him.

“Good pet, you can do it, don’t worry.” His comforting words sounded like they were too far away. You felt his knot pushing against your cunt. You tried to scream, but no sound could move past his fist on your neck.

Everything collided at once. Your vision was fading and your orgasm rising in front of you when he slammed his knot deep into your pussy. You screamed, even though no sounds came out. You both came, hard. He released your throat, and peppered you with kisses while you rode out to spasms.

Hot cum poured into your battered cunt as his thrusts turned erratic and staggered. He couldn’t move much due to his knot, but he did what he could. You felt the huge pressure drag up and down the entrance of your pussy. He came for so long, longer than your entire orgasm. You were coming down while he was still filling you up. You gripped each other's bodies, sweat and saliva mixing.

He collapsed to the side, pulling you up and on top of him, his cock still wedged deep inside you. You moaned involuntarily at the movement.

“Hmmm, I hope that was better than your fingers.” He hummed, amused. You grinned down at him.

“Marginally.” You teased. He looked up at you with offence and you winked, leaning down to kiss him again. You didn’t think the excitement of that was going to wear off any time soon.

[casuallyanidiot]

I actually need a part two to Yandere sugar daddy or I will die

Yandere sugar daddy who loves to spoil his baby.

MDNI!

Tw. Yandere, power imbalance, isolation, captivity, NSFW themes

What do you want honey? A new pair of pretty shoes? A designer bag? A car that costs more than your left leg? He'll give it to you with a snap of his fingers.

Yandere sugar daddy who loves becoming your main source of income. You shouldn't have to trouble yourself with anything hard like boring paperwork or stupid board meetings. That's for him to worry about. No, the only thing you should be concerned about is spreading your legs and murmuring understanding words when he comes home from a stressful day at work.

And sure, you've been kind of whiny and bratty ever since he started to limit the time you spent outside, but can you blame him? Yandere sugar daddy hates even thinking about you wandering through the big scary world without him there to guide and protect you. You're supposed to be his responsibility, so don't go thinking you can just run around without his explicit permission.

Yandere sugar daddy who likes to hide little gifts for you around the penthouse. It's like a little game. He likes sending you messages randomly throughout the day. Go check the third drawer in the study. It's a good way to make sure you haven't snuck out on him, but he also just loves it when he finds you with a new pretty gem settled on the column of your throat.

Yandere Sugar daddy who takes you on crazy, all expenses paid for vacations to tropical islands, different cities, and dream destinations. You'll have the best hotels, best views, best wardrobe as long as you sit pretty and snuggled up to him while you're flying first class.

Yandere Sugar daddy who shuts down any kind of arguments you might have about silly things like 'Why can't I see my friends' or 'Where is my passport and my credit card?' He just hands you stacks of cash or his own cards and tells you to go wild. Don't worry about all of that. Just go to the shopping outlet with the security guards he hired to keep an eye on you and have lot's and lot's of fun spending his money.

Yandere Sugar daddy who finds a way to blacklist you from the industry you used to work in. No one in their right mind will give you a job even if you wanted one (Not that he intends to even let you think about living life away from him). He's never, ever going to let you have even the slightest chance of being independent.

Though, he's sure that he'll feel much better when he can finally slip a ring on your finger and make this little arrangement more official.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

UNQUALIFIED

rio vidal x reader x agatha harkness

you question death's favoritism. waking up in bed with them, kissing but not particularly NSFW, i wanted to write a smut fic but my asexuality stopped it at fluffy kissing and generally poetic vibes. 809 words.

You are no witch. You walk at the edge of death not by your own force but by the grace gifted to you – it is not within your power to protect, or to divine, or to guide to the soil those souls that have grown beyond this world and are ready for the next. You are, in every sense, helpless to the favors of life and death. 

Yet as you walk with death, as you share a bed with her night by night, you are not stricken with fear at the prospect of what awaits you in the beyond. You know she will protect you, death will guide you into her home with the same generosity that you have led her into yours. 

Over the centuries you have asked death why she has kept from taking you for so long – in those moments she would grow pensive, avoiding your gaze, not offering a response until you asked her again. 

Always, Rio would respond in the same way. “You’re not ready for death.” 

In illness, you would ask more eagerly. You would question her on if it was finally time for you, and again she would deny you – though there were times when she would falter, when she did not seem so sure of her own jurisdiction. “You have more to do here.” 

Now as you lay in the light of a new morning, golden light leaking in through the gaps in the curtains of the cottage you have bought in the woods for the three of you, death awakens at your side. You feel the depth of her breath change as she does, you are wrapped in her arms with your head resting in the crook of her neck and an arm thrown over her abdomen. 

Mindlessly, one of Rio’s hands finds your hair, running through its morning tangles. You feel yourself sinking into her – into death, yet instead of finding rest in a bed of soil you are wrapped in silk and sunlight. You have come to understand that through and through you reside in her favor, yet one thing you do not understand. 

“If I died, you would still have access to me,” you whisper so as not to wake Agatha, who rests on your other side. “You cut through worlds, you are able to go in and out.” 

Rio sighs. You don’t have to see her face to imagine her exhaustion at your persistent questioning, the closing of her eyes for a moment as she considers a response. “It’s early. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.” 

“About my fortuitous immortality?” 

Rio shakes her head. She takes care this time to formulate a satisfactory answer. “If you were to die, I would still have access to you, but I would never be able to hold you. You are unqualified for death.” 

“Unqualified?” 

She shifts to straddle you, looking down at you with a crooked grin. One of her hands trails down your neck to your collarbones as she speaks. “If you were dead I would have your soul. I would keep it.” 

She leans down to kiss you, and before she does: “I wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

The kiss is gentle, both of you still subdued by your exhaustion. You are hardly awake, but still you are able to feel the love in her touch, given to you in the growing hunger of her kiss and her wandering touch. She parts from you to kiss down your bare neck and chest – though abruptly she is shoved off of you, pushed away to lay at your side. 

You hadn’t realized Agatha was awake, had not noticed her stirring beside you, but now as she takes Rio’s place you feel a new craving coming alive within you. She is more rough as she touches you, hands falling immediately to grab at your chest and the kiss she pulls you into putting you at risk of gentle nips and the dominance of her tongue against yours. 

“Rio breaks the rules,” Agatha says, pulling back for a moment and sparing a glance at Rio beside you. “We are her favorites, she just doesn’t like to put it that way. She’s too just.”

Rio rolls her eyes, as if she were far from just, though you know it to be true. Through the years she has educated you on the balance she keeps, the fine working of souls. 

Straddling you as Rio had been, Agatha reaches out for Rio to kiss her. Death tilts her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Careful, kissing death doesn’t always work out for covenless witches.” 

Agatha takes no care to follow her warning. Eagerly she pulls Rio to kiss her, the same desire burning between them that has lasted centuries, that you have witnessed from the beginning and will witness until the end. 

[wilcze-kudly]

Hey, hi, hello! I wasn't going to interact with this post after my first reblog, in which I did agree with you that I did not like the direction Toph's character was taken, since you seem to have made it clear that you're not interested in engaging in a discussion! But since you saw fit to engage and interact with my rather tongue and cheek tags, I thought it would be beneficial to clarify my opinion on the matter, as I believe it has been a bit misinterpreted, be it on purpose or not.

Before I do so, I want to reiterate: I do not enjoy cop Toph, nor do I like the lenient portrayal of the police force in tlok. I just think that people are much to willing to jump on a bandwagon of blindly crossing out this development, despite the interesting storyline it could provide.

You claim that I reduce Toph to 'a wealthy girl who likes violence'. Now, barring the fact that my original tags were more jokey, because I didn't expect a response, I would like to note taht you left out the arguably more important part of Toph having a constant need to prove herself, which I believe is arguably more important to her becoming a cop.

I've already alluded to this in my post about Toph's story being a tragedy but I think a lot of people handily discard Toph's need to prove her worth. This is probably due to the bravado she puts up, which, in my opinion, is used to cover up her fear of dependence and weakness.

Toph was not just seen as weak as a child, she was purposefully kept 'weak' by her parents, particularly Lao. Keeping her hidden from the world, not allowing her to socialise with her peers, not allowing her to move past basic earthbending forms, not giving her a shred of independence. I don't think I have to elaborate on how harmful this will be to a child.

We see how hard Toph wants to prove that she can be independent in literally the wpisode after she joins the Gaang, in the chase. This is literally the primary reason for her and Katara's conflict.

Toph: Katara, I'm fine. I can carry my own weight. I don't need a fire, I've already collected my own food and look, [Earthbends a rock tent over her.] my tent's all set up. Katara : Well, that's great for you, but we still need to finish - Toph: I don't understand what's the problem here!

This isn't Toph being a brat, or difficult, this is her trying to establish that she's able to handle herself, so the Gaang don't treat her like her parents did. This is a fear and suspicion that follows Toph constantly, and this is where her struggle with authority figures comes from.

And yet, she craves her father's approval. So much of her arc is trying to show her father the value of her true self, the powerful fighter and force of nature she is. Achieving greater and greater feats, just to prove to herself and perhaps her parents that she has more value as the person she truly is, not the person her parents tried to mould her into.

We see Toph enjoying new challenges and searching them out. She's competitive, but bot due to a sense of ego, I believe, but due to a a constant need to prove herself. Why wouldn't she search out a vocation that would allow her to, at least in theory, test herself and assert independence?

Her metalbending school does not give her that, she clearly loves challenges too much.

Furthermore, your argument that Toph's reduction to a 'rich girl who likes violence' being the reason 'so many' people are fine with her being a cop doesn't hold up. Most people flatten Toph to 'aggressive gremlin who hates rules' and actively use that to go against Toph being a cop. People hating Toph being a cop is the majority of the fandom, I would argue.

'This is what the fandom reduces Toph to.' Would you find someone agreeing with you and calling Toph a 'law breaker', 'insurance fraid', 'petty criminal', as they do in the reblogs and replies of this post, flattening a complex character to one aspect of her character? No, becauae they're agreeing with you. I personally find the idea that Toph is constantly stripped of her depth and reduced to "criminal chaos causer" upsetting for how much of a deep character she actually is.

And yes, Toph's wealth is important to the discussion, and so is her being accustomed to solving issues with violence.

Remember, Toph was sheltered as hell as a child. Even when she hung out in Earth Rumble 6, she didn't stick around to socialise. So we have a young woman who grew up in very particular enviornments. And while spending time with the Gaang, she widened her horizons, a gagle of teens and preteens wandering the world aiming to take out a monarch isn't the most 'preparing you for real life' situation out there. This leaves us with a girl who has extremely limited experience of the world, and is very accustomed to violence as a form of life.

People also tend to ignore that Toph is actually an incredibly pragmatic person, who will often prioritise efficiency over things like morality, ideologies and even personal grudges. This doesn't make her a bad person, I love that about her. She's not only able to see clearer than the Gaang that they need Zuko to teach Aang firebending and she is able to forgive him for accidentally burning her.

We would be remiss to see that she is willing to surrender her own ideals for the bigger picture. Like as she did with the case of Liling, advising Aang to remove her bending. I don't believe this is a decision Toph made lightly, especially with how important her own bending is to her. She knows more than anyone the pain and fear removal of bending can cause. But she offers this anyway because it's how she believes a dangerous criminal will be stopped.

We also ignore that Toph has a love and fascination for progress. She's drawn to the future that the refinery and Cranefish Town represent, and she's willing to defend them. So her remaining in Cranefish Town while it becomes Republic City and becomes a hotspot of both economical and technological growth is in character, as is her wanting to defend it from the apparently many crimes that happen there.

And sure, there are many ways to do that, and I honestly wish it weren't by being a cop. But we can also remember that Lao Beifong was on the council of the city from its beginning and may have wanted Toph to be less of a vigilante and help train benders to defend the town. Because, cool as Toph is, she can't be two places at once.

And we've already seen how much Toph cares for her dad's approval and she's also very protective of him.

So is it really that improbable that Toph would start a police force in Cranefish Town, where her father whom she wants to impress resides? The girl who wanted to spread her influence across the world via spreading her teachings? The girl who loves progress and challenges?

And honestly, Toph didn't even seem to be having that much fun on the police force anyway. I think a very likely progression of events for Toph in the police force is that she created it and later became disillusioned with it a she realised that she had become what she hated most. A controlling authority figure.

Hell, the way she acts when we actually meet her in tlok lends credence to this theory. Toph is clearly bitter and disillusioned about her time in the police force.

Toph: Listen, when I was Chief of Police in Republic City, I worked my butt off busting criminals. But did that make crime disappear? Nope. If there's one thing I learned on the beat, it's that the names change, but the street stays the same.

It's a tragic story and it makes me sad, but I can't deny that it is an enjoyable storyline to follow. It feela like more of a critique of the

Now, do I think Bryke intended for this to be the true meaning Toph's story? Hard to say but I'm leaning more to no. I think they made Toph a cop because they're two liberal white cishet men who were creating fictional New York in a East Asian skin. Although B1 did try to lay a critique of police brutality and police states it falls flat due to Lin and how the storyline absolves her of a lot of her flaws.

I don't like cop Toph. I'd much rather she do anything else!

But I do still maintain that this storyline isn't a character assassination or the 'worst caharacter progression ever' or impossible, as a lot of people claim. And my opinion doesn't come from a reduction of Toph's character to a caricature of herself, but from a very careful consideration of her multifaceted nature.

People are free to dislike cop Toph, hell, I dislike cop Toph. But it's not as bad as everyone claims. But we sadly see a lot of this in fandom culture. A fandom reduces a character to their most basic traits and creates their own little doll of them based on said traits. And when writers and creators want to do something new and interesting with a character they created, they are faced with extremely harsh backlash because fandom has begun to see their version of the character of not only the 'correct' version, but also as their property.

So as much as I dislike the direction they took Toph, I dislike the fandom culture that caused so many people see this as some sort of destruction of Toph's character even more.

Reblog if you also think Toph shouldn’t have been a cop.

I want to see how “unpopular” this opinion really is outside cop-worshipping Reddit.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Make a Deal

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: desperate times bring you to desperate measures.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Is it self-pity or self-loathing that has your skin crawling? You can’t quite discern between the emotions rotting in your stomach. All you know, is you can’t stand yourself. 

You’re here and you’re not turning back now. You might not have a choice but it’s still a choice. This is what you’ve resorted to. You shudder as you stand at the door of the townhouse. You stare at the doorbell above the little speaker box and every doubt rattles in your head. 

‘Seeking companionship. Women without prior experience preferred’. 

You always laughed at the desperate, if not trollish, postings. How ridiculous. You always just scrolled on by, assuming them to be no more than a pathetic attempt at phishing. And if they were real, well, that’s even more pathetic. 

Even standing there, you can’t be sure it isn’t some scheme. Yeah, you emailed the man behind the ad. You even spoke on the phone. Several times. Trying to be sure but you’re still not. 

No one else knows you’re there. You’re too embarrassed for that. It’s foolish too. You could be murdered and no one would know. You’re trying not to think of that. You focus instead on what you stand to gain. 

You reach and press the button before common sense gets the best of you. As you wait, you look down at yourself. It’s just what he wanted. ‘Wear a red dress. That way I know it’s really you’. You grit back another wave of disgust. 

The door opens and you’re not ready. How can you be? It’s the first time you’re seeing him but not the first time he’s seen you. You can’t even hope that he’ll be repulsed. 

You’re silent. Both of you. You gape at him and he stares back. It turns to a leer as his throat bobs and he pushes his shoulders back. He’s bigger than you expect. At least he isn’t the slobbish, greasy man you expected. Not on the outside at least.  

“Hi, sweetie,” it’s the same voice from the call. His name is Steve. “You look...” his eyes skim up and down your figure, “well, I can’t really see. You got this coat on.” 

You force a smile. Your cheeks feel tight. You can’t speak. 

“No need to be nervous,” he grips the door as he holds it open, “hey, why don’t you come inside? You must be freezing out there?” 

You nod and step through the door as he stands back. The warmth feels even more stolid as heat roils within you. You look around the entryway. The subtle ripple of the dark hardwood paneling and the old-style banisters. You feel smaller standing inside. 

“Let me take your coat,” he tugs on the sleeve.  

You don’t stop him. You shrug it off as he strips it away. He turns to hang it in the closet behind the front door and you hug yourself as you take it all in. Not just your surroundings, but your situation. He is a stranger but you’re going to do what you have to do. 

“I like that dress,” he startles you as he comes up next to you. “It’s cute.” 

You glance down. It’s the only red dress you have. It’s not even yours, actually. You borrowed it from a friend and never wore it. 

“Thanks,” you finally find your voice. 

“Mm, you sound sweet,” he rests his hand lightly on your back and you feel like melting as heat radiates off of him. “Let me show you around.” 

You can only nod. Once more, all sound has evaporated from you. You let him lead you into the next room. A living room just as nice as the front hallway. There’s a fireplace and antique fixtures and the furniture is a cozy shade of cream. There’s exposed brick above the mantel as fire burns behind and iron grate. 

You rub your arms, shivering despite the stuffy air. He takes you into the dining room, open to a kitchen with dusty blue counters and deep oak finishes. This place is nice. Big. Much better than the loft you’ve been curled up in for the last two weeks. 

“We can check out upstairs later if you just wanna get settled,” he offers. 

You look at him, cheeks pinching as your throat constricts. He’s tall. His hair is blond but his beard is dark. His shoulders are broad, even beneath his brown jacket, and his grey tee is stretched across his thick chest. You’re entirely outmatched, more than physically. 

“It must be tough. Too bad about the job.” He says. 

You draw away, turning your face down as you crumple in shame. Fired, almost homeless, this is your one way out. He’s nice enough. The place is clean. He is too. But it’s just too much. It can’t be real. 

You did everything right. You graduated high school. Got your degree. All on time. You worked your butt off through both of those yet you could never break through to more than temp work. Now it’s all dried up, just like your contract. They promised you full-time but it never came. 

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about that,” he says. 

You shuffle around and go to the mantle. You stare at the flames. You don’t think they’re hot enough to thaw the ice creeping over your heart. This isn’t fair. 

He might be polite, he might be generous, but he’s still some guy looking for a ‘situationship’ on the internet. And you answered. 

You hear him behind you. The floor groans with his weight. You lift your chin and admire the wooden clock on the ledge. You suppose having money can’t help the loneliness. Silence wraps around you, building a shell. 

“Come here,” he says, shaking you from your trance. 

You blink and turn to him slowly. You drop your arms. You push away the chagrin needling your forehead and face him completely. He sits on the couch, legs wide, arm across the back. 

You’re jarred at the sight of him. His chin is down and his eyes are pinpointed on you. You hesitate, fingers fluttering, and make yourself move. One foot, the other, then the first again. 

The glean in his blue eyes chills you. His gaze follows you like an animal. You stop only an inch away. 

“It’s a nice house,” you say. “I don’t mean to be quiet--” 

“I get it. You’re nervous,” he reaches to grab your hand then sits back, tugging you closer. “But you don’t need to play shy.” 

He moves you towards him. He brings his arm off the couch and shifts your hip around as he leads you between his legs. He pushes until you fold, sitting on his leg, teetering on it uneasily. He lets out a gritty hum and urges you to lean against him. 

He curls his arm around your back to keep you in place and brings his other hand up to stroke your cheek. His eyes bore into you. He presses his knuckles to your cheek and brushes his thumb along your lower lip. 

“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he rasps. 

“Thank you,” you utter, lip trembling against his thumb. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he toys with your mouth, tracing it as his fingers dig into your hip. “I can take care of you. You like the place, right? You’ll be comfortable here.” 

“Sure,” you gulp. 

He purrs and pushes his thumb through your lips. You flinch in surprise. He prods at your tongue at he turns his hand to grip your chin, keeping his finger hook in your mouth. 

Your gaze meets his. His eyes search your face as they darken. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer. He shudders in excitement. 

“I always wanted someone like you, sweetie,” he drags his thumb out of your mouth and wipes the moisture down your chin. He tickles along our throat as you shiver. “So pretty, so pure.” He plays with the collar of your dress, trailing along the vee as he gives a hum. “Are you nervous for your first time?” 

You hold back a whimper. Him saying it out loud makes it real. Coming here, walking through this house, sitting on his lap, those should be enough but those worse are more vivid than anything. You blink and nod. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” his hand travels down the front of your dress. “I’ll be gentle... until you can take all of me.” 

[rqbossman]

What are your honest opinions on the fact that a dream I had fully revolved around a voice in the sky, of which was both Jonathan Sims and you, where you both somehow turned my grandmother into a blood-thirsty vampire who tried to attack me, and tore my family apart, causing us to move all the way to a different country?

Pray I don't become a voice in the sky. I don't think I should be trusted with that kind of power.

Turning people into vampires again feels out of character. I'd be more likely to encourage them to come out of the closet but maybe I was having a bad day?

I don't think I can be held responsible for the actions of your murderous dream nana. It sounds like I just paved the way, she's the one who drove down the road.

I mean, depending where you live, moving to a different country might be a good idea right now. Just ask someone who is into their 20th century history.

[revelboo]

The scavengers?! YEEEESSS!!1! my precious darlings :D They deserve this <3 can't wait to see more :) Thank you for writing this, i really needed something positive right now.

No worries :) I just really wanted to write these five goobers struggling

A Lifeless Ordinary

IDW Scavengers x Reader

• “You realize that thing is sentient, right?” Fulcrum asks, leaning to watch Spinister trying to coax their new pet into saying his name. So far the only response has been for it to lift both hands, middle fingers extended in what he suspects isn’t a friendly gesture.

• Looking up, Krok vents as Crankcase hesitantly mimics the gesture at the alien and it starts laughing like a Cybertronian would. Everything about it, that it’s bipedal, its little face, its hands and legs, is uncannily like a Cybertronian in form aside from being organic. “Of course, I do,” he finally says, servos flitting over the controls to check everything is ready to go even though he’s already checked three times while they wait on Misfire. Knows he’ll check more times, but unable to stop since the repetitive gesture keeps him focused. And from overthinking exactly how much damage Misfire can do running a simple errand unsupervised.

• “Honestly, I’m surprised Spinister’s not forgotten it’s his and shot it yet.” Fulcrum winces in sympathy when the hulking purple medic seizes you and roughly runs a servo over your head while you try to smack him, chattering angrily before giving up and slumping in his hand. “Any luck with that language?”

• Krok hesitates as Misfire comes running into the ship, a tiny container in his servos. “We should probably go,” he says right as the natives start firing on the ship.

• “Did you steal that?” Fulcrum growls, as Krok powers up the ship. Not even sure why Fulcrum’s asking, because of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have?

• Indignities upon indignities. Dangling from the biggest one’s hand, you finally give up as his big servos pet your hair and he rumbles nonsense at you. As far as you can tell, you’re a pet. Not exactly flattering, but since they’re not hurting you and they’ve kept you trapped on their ship since finding you, there’s not much you can do about it. You’d made attempts to try and play charades with the big one and after hours of it you’d decided either you’re just awful at charades or he’s an idiot. But at least his hands are warm even if his touch is a bit rough as he tries to cuddle you against his neck.

• “In my defense, they refused to sell to Cybertronians. Something about us being warmongering abominations destroying the galaxy,” Misfire says, prying open the container and immediate leaning away from the stink. “Organic food for the organic.”

• Grumbling slightly, Spinister lowers you near the box and they wait as you look inside then back at them questioningly. “You think it knows what it can and can’t eat?” Crankcase mutters as Misfire huffs. But that is something Krok hadn’t considered. Surely you do know. Right?

• Whatever they brought you looks like blue noodles and smells like dirty socks. And they’re just staring down at you talking amongst themselves, because they can’t understand you. What even is this? It’s when the one with a chunk missing from his head bends and mimes eating that it sinks in. Surely they don’t think you’re going to eat this garbage? Apparently they do as the calmest of the five gently nudges you closer to the box. And inhaling to gather yourself, you gingerly pick up a slick noodle in your fingers and bite into it. By some miracle it does actually taste good despite having the texture of a raw potato. You suppose they’re trying to take care of you and that’s something.

• Listening to the miserable sounds that aren’t even marginally better than the tantrum Spinister had thrown threatening to shoot Misfire over the whole mess, Krok reaches out a servo and rubs between your shoulders as you keep dry heaving, because apparently you don’t know what you can and can’t eat as difficult as it is for him to grasp. The rest of the Scavengers had retreated a safe distance when you’d started noisily purging the food, so now it’s just the two of you.

• They probably weren’t trying to poison you. Maybe. Shaking and dehydrated, you slump over and the calm one carefully wraps his servos around you and cradles you to his chassis, murmuring softly as you press your palms against your eyes, head pounding and throat raw. His touch is at least gentle compared to the other’s as he runs a big servo along your spine over and over. When you’re less miserable, you need to try charades with him since he seems to be the leader. Maybe you can get it through his head that you’re not a pet. Right now, you just want to soak in the warmth of him and rest.

Previous

[chronicsyd]

ok I KNOW I'm spam posting at this point and I don't mean to but can we talk about the Ingeniousness of the "Appointing a General" scene and how Ambessa essentially cornered Caitlyn into this role?

Because despite what people are saying, Caitlyn did not skip up there like "Ohh power! Awesome! Gimme!", this is a decision that she was Forced to make (unlike if the role was given to say, Salo, because he was already starting to lift himself up, ready for Ambessa to give him his glory. He Wants power, he Craves it).

And you can see it from the Moment Ambessa calls out her name. The first emotion to appear is shock, clearly she wasn't expecting her name to be brought up. Wide eyed, she can see these families that Have Influence (because that's who Ambessa Specifically told Salo to bring) start to nod in approval, because like Salo said, the Kiramman name bewitches people, that's All it takes to get them to agree. She's taking rapid breaths as Ambessa and the Noxian soldiers start to pound their chests, her eyes are shaking, almost like she's about to have an anxiety attack with having the spotlight thrust upon her in such a way. She looks down, almost as if trying to ground herself.

But then she notices Maddie on her right, pounding her chest as well, smiling up at her. Which in turn, causes her fellow Enforcers to nod and start pounding their chests as well. Everyone Else in the room (with the exception of Salo) Wants this from her, they Expect her to "make the right choice", and it's at that point where saying "no" is no longer an option for her, not with the crisis they're dealing with, But more importantly, not with the Status of her Name. And she looks back up at Ambessa, making eye contact again. That's when she tells Caitlyn to "come, child."

In the way you watch Caitlyn walk up to her, her face is completely numb. she's not walking up there with a smile, her face shows almost no emotion at all. and when Ambessa leans in to swear her mother justice, she simply wears a blank stare, there's no look of anger or determination or anything, I'd say it looks like she's disassociating. what's also interesting is after Ambessa's done speaking and Caitlyn turns back around, there's no sound. the Enforcers and Noxian soldier's are still pounding their chests, you can see it, but you can't hear it, which as someone who disassociates a lot from anxiety is exactly what happens when you’re that overwhelmed. It remains silent as Caitlyn raises out her hand, Ambessa watching in anticipation, before the final sound is Caitlyn hitting her own chest, the wind whistling quietly behind her. but one thing to also bring up is specifically When she turns around, because her face does change, and that's apart of her looking like she's holding herself together that we've seen from her throughout the Entirety of this act. looking like she isn't bothered by this, that she's willing to accept this new responsibility placed on her shoulders. compare that to the look she was Just wearing, that face says more "resigned to my fate", she isn't being given a choice here, not really.

This entire thing is an internal struggle for her. Because yes, she still craves revenge against Jinx, but is THIS really the way she wants to go about it? Because despite what Caitlyn's done herself, she hasn't been thrown an Army and been Expected to lead a War against Zaun, this is entirely new territory that she's walking into. And now, she's no longer allowed to back down.

Ambessa using peer presser to get Caitlyn to do what she wants, what a Genius. and what an ASSHOLE (yes I’m pissed at Ambessa and can’t Wait for Caitlyn to rain hellfire down on her once she realizes what she’s pulled).

[cambionkami]

Arcane Season 2 Spoilers you've been warned!

I love the team's attention to detail shown in Arcane. Especially this scene here:

Here we have Caitlyn. Her face shows her trying to be strong and push aside her grief to do "what needs to be done." Her back is straight, and her head is held high. She is aware of the horrors that Jinx can do. Back in season 1 episode 4, she was the sole survivor of one of Jinx's attacks on Piltover, then again at the end of season 1, she was kidnapped and watched the very attack that killed her mother.

Caitlyn is aware of her role and the power she's both been given and earned, making her believe she is responsible for taking out Jinx. This is reinforced by her saying to her father in the first episode of season 2 "I had the shot". She holds onto that grief of knowing she was in the position to prevent what Jinx did, maybe if she had taken the shot her mother would've survived. Leading her to take charge and create a strike force to assassinate Jinx, both in duty to the people who died due to the many attacks and revenge for her mother.

Then you have Vi, who follows behind Caitlyn, to show both support for her and her actions. She wears the enforcer uniform and the gauntlets and is standing side by side with other enforcers to take down the threat. But her body language speaks the opposite, her eyes are adverted and darting downward, frowning with a slouch, the whole time she's shown here her head is down. Sure she feels awful for what Caitlyn's been through but is also facing the responsibility of what her sister, Jinx, has become.

Vi carries the weight of her sister's actions and believes it is her responsibility to stop Jinx from hurting anyone else, she's seen the damage her sister can do firsthand and is fully aware that it can get worse if no action is taken. Sure, she doesn't want to kill or bring harm to her sister, nobody does, she spent all of season 1 tracking her sister down to be with her family again. Up until meeting Caitlyn, Vi has been all alone, without her family, her parents are dead, her adoptive family is dead, and her sister is still out there.

These two characters are the two faces of the same coin. They've both lost family and stability in their lives and feel the responsibility of correcting the terrors Jinx has caused is theirs to face and neutralize. But a lot of their direction in how to go about dealing with the issue are the same thing these characters accuse Jinx of being.

Vi clings to hope, hope that Powder is still inside of Jinx, any reasoning to see her sister as the way she remembers her being. A mindset that is slowly breaking her as she witnesses the horrors "Powder" is unleashing on the innocent, affecting men, women and children alike. She wants to cling to the idea of her sister being there, but she slowly starts echoing the people around her. Ekko mentions how Powder is no longer there, how she "changed", this is also reinforced by Jinx herself, "Powder fell down a well".

Vi is adjusting to these new changes, learning about Jinx alongside with the audience. Her face, voice and body language are soft when she addresses her sister when she views her as "Powder". She wants to view her sister as what they were long ago, two kids, sisters, and family. Vi struggles with seeing the anger that is Jinx bubbling to the surface in her sister and when it comes to the confrontation in Season 2 Episode 3, she is fully aware she is unable to do the job of killing her sister. Looking for someone else to do the job for her or any excuse to avoid the task.

We see in the same episode that she turns her back to allow Caitlyn to take the shot for her, apologising as she closes her eyes. She knows there's no undo button for what Jinx has done and knows the only resolution to the battle is her sister's head. There is no more reasoning, no more bargaining, and no more begging, what's done is done. Vi is in complete turmoil over her sister knowing that even though she's just gotten her back that she will soon have to say goodbye to her.

So we jump to later that same conflict, she's pinned down Jinx, and vi has won in securing the threat to neutralize for the greater good. But when Isha runs up, with a gun in hand, blocking Vi from stopping Jinx, she freezes in place. There is nothing really stopping Vi from disarming Isha and/or removing Isha from Jinx to secure a better shot. Even extending this excuse to Caitlyn, jumping in front of the shot to interfere with the 'shot'.

Vi grew up being the role model for her 3 younger siblings, a major influence in guiding people down the correct or incorrect path. She grew up with people following her lead and is now blocking Caitlyn from completing their mission. Vi only wants to help Caitlyn do what's right but also wants to protect what's left of her remaining family unintentionally.

Sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Caitlyn on the other hand is in complete turmoil over the grief of her mother's death, knowing she could've prevented it had she gone down and taken a different path. She grows distant and isolated in her grief as if disconnecting from her reality to best hide the pain she is suffering from as we see in season 2 episode 1. In season 1, she echoes a similar belief that her mother held, "the people of the underground deserve to breathe", this line can be taken both literally and metaphorically for the story and its symbolism. But with the death of her mother, this idea also dies in Caitlyn, voicing her views on them as "animals" with a bite to her words. In the very scene she says this, she bares her teeth, much like an animal would. Voicing her growing rage.

She believes she's at fault, and with the fact that she had the shot back at the end of season 1, she could've ended the madness Jinx unleashes. This drives Caitlyn through her grief in an attempt to 'fix' what has been broken and correct the wrongs that have been brought into her world. She knows Jinx will only take more lives if her abuse is left unchecked, many men, women and children count on Caitlyn to take the next shot as quickly and swiftly as possible. This leads to her conflict with Vi and Isha in episode 3.

She wants to take the shot, to neutralize Jinx, to secure the threat and eliminate it for good. In her mind, it would prevent any more terrors and stop the growing threat of war.

When Isha jumps onto Jinx and holds her close, Caitlyn attempts to take the shot, she is narrowed in on securing the death of Jinx, and she doesn't care that there might be the risk of hitting Isha or Vi. After all, the death of a few here in this fight might prevent the deaths of thousands. She wants to protect what's left of her family and destroy everything that is Jinx.

When Caitlyn is unsuccessful in assassinating Jinx yet again, it explains easier why Ambessa was easily able to single out and recruit Cait to lead in Marshal Law over Piltover and ride into Zaun to the drums of war. Caitlyn needs Jinx dead, she will not stop unless something breaks her current driving force, which is grief. She wants peace after all, which is what will aid her in justifying her actions and doing what she believes is the right thing to do.

Caitlyn is becoming the very threat she accuses the Zaunites and Jinx of being, as in war there will always be the innocent that are caught in the cross fire.

[decentwritings]

Prologue

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

next part

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the dock. Waves lapped lazily against the wooden beams, the scent of salt and summer thick in the air. You lean against the railing, watching a group chatter and laugh in the distance. You often tell yourself to be more present, more focused, but your mind keeps drifting back to the stack of bills waiting at home, the weight of your father's memory heavy on your shoulders.

A ripple of laughter draws your attention back to the group, and your eyes settling on a short girl, bangs close to covering her eyes. From where you're standing, you can see the freckles on her cheeks, around her eyes. The sun is doing a great job of shining on them. The group comes to a stop at the edge of the deck, and she sets her bag down on the railing, carefully, flipping her hair back as she leans into the conversation. The way the light caught her face, the easy smile on her lips—something about her made your pulse quicken.

You just wanted to know her name. That's all you can ask for. She seems...magnetic, a bright spot in a world that has felt too dark for too long.

You lean against the deck's railing, clenching your jaw to have some self control. You have bigger things to think about than some girl. You can't go on and fall for the first cute girl who catches your eye, not with everything else hanging over you. The stack of bills at home, the weight of responsibility, and the promises you made to your family all tugged at the back of your mind, reminding you to stay focused.

But then you hear a clatter. The girl's bag—teetering on the edge of the railing—slips, toppling into the water below. The guy standing beside her grimaces, looking over the railing, watching the bag hit the surface of the water.

"Charlie!" she gasps, reaching out too late as her bag falls. She looks helpless, staring after it as if willing it to float back to her.

You watch for a moment as this Charlie apologizes profusely, staring as the bag sinks little by little. He doesn't move and you assume he doesn't have a plan on how to retrieve the bag.

You don't think, the plan in your head is quick and simple. You kick your shoes off and tug your shirt off, having prepared for a swim today anyway. The wetsuit hugs your body nicely, both comfortable and efficient. You're glad the military introduced you to it. You grip the railing and push yourself over it, sucking in a breath in time for you to hit the surface.

Just before you enter the water, you had heard someone shout; "Holy shit, she jumped!"

The water stings your eyes as you look around, but soon you find the bag sinking further and further down. You swim towards it, grateful for your years of training, every stroke powered by determination and urgency. The water surrounds you, a good mixture of cool and warmth, pushing you to move faster. You reach out, your fingers grazing the bag just as it begins to settle on the sandy bottom.

With a final push, you dive deeper, grasping the bag tightly. As you pull it back toward the surface, the weight of it pulls you down slightly, but you kick hard, breaking through the surface and gasping for air. The sunlight glimmers on the water around you as you make your way back to the dock, heart racing from both the swim and the thrill of doing something reckless.

You spit water out of your mouth as you surface, blinking back the drips of water from entering your eyes. On shore, you catch a glimpse of this Charlie guy kicking his shoes off and beginning to unbutton his shorts to enter the water.

You swim to shore, trying your best to avoid the bag from getting in the water anymore. When you reach land, you walk out and wipe the water from your face, shaking your head to get the water out of your ears.

"I was..." Charlie begins as you walk towards him, "gonna get it," he mumbles as you walk past him.

Mabel is down from the pier, friends behind right her; they all come to most likely watch the interaction. You exhale a breath, one you struggle to catch, at first because of the swim, but now, with Mabel up close, her presence makes it even harder to breathe.

You clear your throat and extend her soaked bag to her. She takes it with a laugh, squeezing the water out of it as best as she can.

"Thanks," she mumbles, eyeing her bag for a moment. "I'll see if I can save anything in here later. Mabel," she extends her hand towards you.

You take her hand, shaking it gently. "Y/N." 

There's a moment of just you two holding hands, and you don't think much of it, given that she doesn't really react either. It isn't until Charlie clears his throat when you notice.

You blink out of your stupor, taking a tentative step back. "Anyway, um, steer clear of the deck. Those railings are definitely not sturdy," you point up at the pier, the deck's wooden railings chipping away little by little. "It was nice meeting you, Mabel...Charles–"

"Charlie," he corrects. Mabel's laugh can be heard underneath it.

"And others," you ignore him as you wave at the rest of the group. "Have a good night," you turn on your heels and make your way back up to grab your things.

"Hey, wait up," you hear as you bend down to grab your shoes. You glance over your shoulder and see Mabel jogging toward you. "We're heading to grab a bite to eat, you're welcome to come–as a proper thank you."

You weigh your options. On the one hand, you are very tempted to join them just to see more of her. There's something about Mabel that pulls you in, makes the heaviness of your day-to-day fade, even if only for a little while. But on the other hand, you know you have to keep your distance. You've got things to take care of, and getting too close to people, especially someone like her, could complicate everything.

You sigh, running a hand through your damp hair. "I appreciate the offer, really," you start, standing up and slinging your shirt over your shoulder. "But I've got some stuff to handle tonight." You lie.

Today was just a free day for you. You slept in, made yourself some brunch then came here to walk the beach twice. Now the sun is setting and you have to head home to cook yourself dinner. You may just order out though.

Mabel's expression falters for a second, but she quickly recovers, her smile never quite fading. "No worries, I get it. Maybe another time?"

You hesitate, glancing at the group waiting for her, then back to her expectant eyes. There's something hopeful in the way she looks at you, and for a moment, you almost change your mind.

"Yeah," you nod. "Maybe another time."

She grins, a small, genuine smile that lingers even as she turns to rejoin her friends. You watch her go, the sound of their laughter mixing with the crash of waves against the pier, and you can't help but feel like you've missed out on something. Something good.

Then, you think, you could save yourself some money by joining them. You turn and sigh, hurrying after them. You can't believe just the sound of this girl's laugh made you change your mind.

"Umm," you clear your throat, halting their movements. "I changed my mind. If you don't mind..." you wait for their response–her response.

Mabel nods. "Come on. It's not a far walk," she says with a smile. You smile back and follow, walking beside her and a conversation easily begins between the two of you.

Charlie raises an eyebrow but says nothing as Mabel leads the way. The group starts walking toward the nearby food spot, one you know of since you were a kid. The owner is a friend of the family since your dad made friends with everyone and their mother. You call him uncle.

Once you all enter, the familiar smell of grilled food and old wooden booths hits you, immediately bringing back memories of your father. You try to push them aside as you follow Mabel and the group to a large booth near the back of the restaurant. You hear the sizzling of the burgers and your stomach growls.

Focus on your hunger, not the memories, you think as you slide into the booth.

You settle in beside Mabel, and as the group chats around you, you can't help but feel a strange sense of belonging in this place. Even though you hadn't planned on it, this night is turning out to be more than just another routine evening. You hadn't been here since you came to visit that one time a few years back.

You were on leave and your dad insisted to come because it's practically tradition. It also helped that Rudy, the owner, gave you all free food when you came by. Veteran special, he said.

"So," Mabel turns to you, "you've been here before?"

You nod, glancing around. "Yeah, my dad used to bring me here when I was a kid. The owner, Rudy, is an old family friend." You tell her, taking the menu she offers you. You pretend to look, but you already know what you're going to order.

Hell, the waitress you see coming by knows what your order will be.

"Well, if it isn't our sergeant," Jodie, the waitress, who is also Rudy's wife, greets you. Your cheeks burn as you feel questioning glares on you. "With your own platoon this time–hi, how are you? I'm practically this little vet's Tia." She pinches your cheeks.

You chuckle nervously as Jodie pinches your cheeks, glancing around the table to see Mabel and the rest of the group watching the interaction with amused curiosity. "Hey, Tia Jodie," you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "Just, uh, grabbing a bite with some new friends."

Jodie beams at you, her eyes twinkling as she shifts her attention to Mabel. "Well, isn't that sweet! It's nice to see you making friends. Been worried you'd become a hermit with how often you're here solo."

All you can do is hum in response.

"I know your order," Jodie says then looks at the rest of them. "How about you guys? Need more time or are you ready to order?"

They all tell her they need more time, so she excuses herself to take care of the other customers. She sends you a knowing look, one you understand well.

While your family wasn't all that prideful about your military background, Rudy and Jodie were.

Rudy and Jodie had always been like an extra set of parents, beaming with pride over your accomplishments when your own family barely mentioned them. They were the ones who celebrated your milestones, threw you small parties when you came back from deployments, and made you feel seen in ways that sometimes your own parents and sister didn't.

You catch Jodie's knowing look as she walks away, and you can't help but feel a small pang of guilt. She's always looking out for you, and though she means well, the attention sometimes feels heavy. Especially now.

You wish your parents, especially your dad, at least acknowledged your accomplishments. You'd tell them about only in the presence of Rudy and Jodie, simply because you didn't like the awkward silences after you said it.

"So," Charlie speaks up, setting his menu down and looking directly at you. "You're military? I noticed the tattoo—didn't think it was for your dog tag."

You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeve, the damp fabric resisting. "Yeah," you clear your throat, feeling the weight of his gaze. "But this tattoo is actually for my grandfather. He was the one who inspired me to enlist." You shrug, fingers tracing the ink, the colors still vibrant.

"What branch?" Nunes—one of Mabel's friends, as you recently learned—asks, leaning forward with interest.

"Army. Rangers," you reply, instinctively touching the necklace around your neck. The pendant was given to you after finishing training, a rare token of honor from your unit—a reminder of the brotherhood you forged during those years.

"Semper fi," Nunes says, raising a fist in solidarity.

You hum, a slight smile breaking through. "That's the Marines, but I appreciate the spirit."

The whole table bursts into laughter as Nunes frowns, realizing his mistake.

"Impressive," Costa, another friend of Mabel's, nods with newfound respect in his eyes. "Not many can say they've gone through that."

"I would've signed up for the military if I knew they handed out free jewelry," Charlie jokes, his tone oblivious to the weight in the air.

Anne-Marie, Costa's wife, from her husband's side, looks at him. "Have some sense, Char," she shakes her head. "She trained with the Rangers. She could kill you with one hand tied behind her back."

"That's for sure," your aunt returns, smiling at the chuckle that escapes your lips. You don't miss the grimace that crosses Charlie's face, amusing you more. Jodie looks between you all. "So, ready?"

You all place your orders before she disappears, but not before once again, sending you a knowing look. You offer her a smile in return, a little shy. She walks off to put in your orders, leaving you alone with the group.

The group returns to conversation, a different topic at hand now, which you're grateful for. You keep quiet, as always; by nature, and training, to just listen and observe.

You smile to yourself, finding comfort in their banter. There's something refreshing about being in a group where laughter flows so freely. It reminds you of the times you spent with your own friends, sharing dumb stories and letting the world slip away.

As you sit back, you catch Mabel glancing at you every so often, her expression lighting up whenever your eyes meet. There's a warmth in her smile that makes your chest tighten just a bit, a quiet flutter of anticipation stirring in you each time. It's subtle but unmistakable, like the start of something you're not sure you're ready for—but can't seem to ignore either.

The group dives into their meals with gusto, devouring their plates like they haven't eaten in days. You, on the other hand, take your time, savoring each bite like it might be your last. It's not just the food, though. There's something comforting about the familiar atmosphere of Rudy's place, the faint hum of conversation, the smell of the sea in the distance. It all feels like a moment you don't want to rush.

Jodie eventually returns, sliding the bill discreetly in front of you. You don't even need to open it to know what it says. When you do, the words "All covered" are scribbled at the bottom, the price conveniently blacked out. Typical.

You glance up just in time to catch Jodie winking at you before she heads off to tend to another table, and you can't help but roll your eyes with a smile. One of these days, you're going to get her to let you pay for a meal, but tonight is clearly not that night.

As you lean back in your chair, Mabel watches you, curiosity and something else dancing in her gaze. Maybe she senses there's more to you than you let on, or maybe she's just trying to figure you out, but either way, you can feel her drawing closer. And somehow, you don't mind.

You explain to them of the bill situation, and they argue that they should pay something. You tell them to leave a tip, and to hope she accepts it. Jodie can be stubborn.

You watch from a distance as they all sum up some cash to leave for Jodie. As the group pools together cash for the tip, you catch glimpses of their conversation, the light banter as they tease one another over how much to leave. Mabel's laughter rings out above the rest, and you can't help but smile to yourself. It's easy to see why people are drawn to her—there's a natural warmth and kindness that comes with her presence, something that makes you feel welcome, even when you don't expect it.

You stand in the corner, eyeing the frames on the wall; pictures of people with fishes or with wide smiles after a long day at sea. Rudy's place is filled with memories, the kind that tell stories of good days, hard work, and community. You've always admired that about this spot—how it feels like more than just a restaurant. It's a place where people come together, no matter the time or the situation.

Your eyes stop on a particular frame. It's one of your father with your mother, pregnant with you while your older sister is in his arms. It was clear it was after a week of being at sea, your sister's disgusted look on her face says it all. Your mother's eyes crinkle as she laughs while your father pouts.

You stare at the photo for a moment, lost in the nostalgia of a simpler time. It's a rare shot of your father looking carefree, something you don't see often in your memories. Back then, everything felt different. Simpler, maybe. Your sister's scrunched-up face, your mother's laugh—those are the small moments you didn't realize you'd cherish until they became memories.

Mabel's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Is that your family?" She's standing beside you now, her eyes following your gaze to the picture.

You nod. "Yeah. My dad used to take us all out after his fishing trips. That's my mom, and my sister when she was little."

Mabel tilts her head, taking in the scene. "You look a lot like your mom."

You glance at the picture again, and for the first time in a while, you can see the resemblance. "Yeah, I guess I do," you say quietly.

"Faro!"

You turn; the voice is instantly recognizable. Mabel follows your gaze to see an older man with a dirty apron around his neck, arms outstretched.

"Faro?" she asks quietly. You exhale, shaking your head a bit.

"Childhood nickname," you reply simply.

"Is it short for anything?" Mabel asks, curious. From the corner of your eye, you see Charlie, his curiosity even more apparent than hers.

"No, just Faro." You shrug, rubbing the back of your neck, suddenly nervous. Charlie blinks, and with his lack of reaction, you feel the need to explain. "It means 'lighthouse' in Spanish. My dad used to call me that..." Your voice fades as you remember your father saying you always helped him find his way home.

"Were you leaving without saying goodbye?"

A part of you didn’t want to see Rudy, partly because of that nickname he insists on using. To you, it's a reminder of what you’ve lost. But he says it like he doesn’t know what you’ve been up to, like he’s unaware of how far you've fallen from the person your father once saw in you. It’s why you’ve avoided the diner these past few months. You know he knows. You just can’t handle a speech—a reprimand for your choices.

"Hey, Tio," you say, then give Mabel an apologetic look. You realize you haven't had the time to really talk to her. But you excuse yourself anyway, hoping to have this inevitable talk in private.

Mabel watches you go, her curiosity about you only increasing, but she doesn't follow. She wonders how you grew up here, yet she's never seen or heard of you before. In a town like this, everyone tends to know everyone. Secrets rarely stay hidden, and stories travel fast. Hell, everyone got word of Weeks death the second it happened. Her acceptance to college also spread like wildfire, her mother trying to feed off her before she went off to college.

But you? You're an enigma, someone who seems to have roots in the community but remains on the outskirts, just out of reach.

As she listens to the light banter from the rest of the group, Mabel's mind drifts back to the way Rudy greeted you—the familiarity, the warmth, and the concern. There's clearly a deeper connection there, something important that ties you to this place.

Instead, she nods and turns back to join the group, giving you space to handle the situation with Rudy.

You walk over to him, feeling the weight of his gaze as you approach. His arms are still outstretched, but there's a seriousness in his eyes, one that tells you this conversation won't be easy. Rudy wraps you in a tight hug, his apron still smelling faintly of seafood and the sea breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it.

He hugs you tightly, patting your back twice before gently pulling back to look at you. You hope he doesn't see it. The faint outline of a bruise that is healing on your left cheek. A trained eye can see it; and Rudy had a very well trained eye.

If he does see it, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he smiles and pats your shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here," he says, then glances over your shoulder. "With friends. I always said you needed friends who weren't military," he chuckles.

You glance back, eyes finding Mabel the instant you do. She meets your eyes for a second before you turn back, feeling caught. "I just ran into them. They invited me to join them," you shrug, not making a big deal of it.

Rudy nods, though his smile falters for a brief second, sensing there's more you're not saying. He's always been good at reading between the lines. His hand stays on your shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "Well, I'm still glad you're here," he repeats, his tone softening. "This place... it misses you, you know?"

You look away, avoiding his gaze. "I've been busy, trying to make ends meet," you tell him.

"Right. Busy getting yourself into trouble, huh?" Rudy's voice remains light, but the weight of his words settles between you. He may not say it outright, but he knows more than you want to admit.

You've been back in town for a year and a half now, and he knows of your back and forth of wanting to be with family while helping them pay bills. Your father's death took a toll on you in a way you hadn't expected–his added debt didn't help matters, either. You didn't take time to grieve, you went straight to getting jobs to pay off your father's stupid debts.

You try to laugh it off, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Just trying to stay afloat."

Rudy raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your attempt to downplay it. "Staying afloat shouldn't mean drowning yourself in other people's problems," he says, his voice still kind but firm. "You've got your own life to live, Faro. Don't forget that."

You look down, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle back on your shoulders. "I can't just ignore it, though. I have to help," you instinctively reach for your necklace, a habit you picked up. "It gets back to my mom–I won't be able to live with myself."

A look of understanding crosses his face. "Okay," he places his hand on your shoulder again, pointing a stern finger at you now. "You come to me if things get bad, entendiste?"

You nod, grateful as always for his support. It feels heavy, but it's nice to know you have it. "Understood," you say, smiling as best as you can.

"Go on," Rudy tells you, nodding. "That girl you've been eyeing sucks at hiding her staring."

You can't help but let out a soft chuckle at Rudy's remark, glancing back toward where Mabel is still with the others. She quickly looks away, pretending to be focused on the conversation, but you catch the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"She's not staring," you say, trying to sound casual, but Rudy just gives you a knowing look.

"Right," he chuckles himself, then crosses his arms. "You always liked competition, so I think you should know the short haired one hasn't stopped staring at her either."

You sigh, the weight of Rudy's words settling in. Charlie's interest in Mabel was obvious, and while Rudy might joke about it being a competition, you didn't see it that way. You weren't interested in chasing after someone like she was a trophy to be won.

Your father's lesson echoed in your mind—a woman is never a prize. He always made sure you and your sister understood that respect came first, especially when it came to relationships. To him, love wasn't about winning; it was about mutual respect, honesty, and a real connection.

"I'm not here to compete, Tio," you say, shaking your head. "If she's interested in him, that's her choice."

Rudy nods, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "You're right, of course. But sometimes, it's not about competing. Sometimes it's just about letting her see who you really are."

You take in his words as you glance back at Mabel, her laughter ringing out as Charlie says something to the group. She catches your eye once more, and this time, there's no pretending not to notice. Maybe Rudy's right—maybe it's just about being yourself and seeing what happens next.

You shake your head. You are not looking for a relationship. It's the last thing you need right now. You decide not to comment on his words and simply tell him thanks again. He pulls you in for a longer hug than before than orders you to make friends.

You're unable to find words to say back to that so you walk off with a head shake, smiling despite yourself. The group, surprisingly, was waiting on you to leave. You thank them, smiling as you follow behind them.

The question of what's next hovers on the tip of your tongue, but Nunes seems to have the same thought.

"Where we going?" he asks, his eyebrows drawn together as he walks a step ahead while you linger behind.

You’re grateful Nunes voiced it before you had to. The last thing you want is to be pulled into a conversation with Mabel while your mind is still racing with Rudy's words. You already see Charlie making his move, staying close to her, clearly angling to steer the conversation in his favor. The idea of stepping into that dynamic feels uneasy.

"So, what’s the Army Rangers’ motto again?" Nunes asks, catching you off guard as he suddenly appears by your side. He shrugs sheepishly. "Just so I don’t put my foot in my mouth next time."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Rangers lead the way,” you say, feeling a sense of pride in the words that goes deeper than you expected.

Nunes nods, repeating it under his breath like he’s committing it to memory. “Got it. Rangers lead the way.” He picks up his speed and shouts at the others. "Hey, guys! I figured it out!"

You let out another chuckle, staying a few steps behind, keeping your distance, hoping to avoid any potential awkwardness. Mabel glances over her shoulder at you, as if she can sense the space you're putting between yourself and the rest of the group. There's a flicker of something in her eyes but she doesn't press you, turning her attention back to Charlie.

Costa turns around, noticing your lingering pace. "You coming, or you planning to walk the whole way back like a ghost?" he jokes, smirking.

You let out a short laugh, shaking off the tension. "Just taking in the scenery, man," you reply, speeding up just enough to not seem distant but still giving yourself enough space.

Truth is, you're not entirely sure what's next. You weren't even supposed to be part of this group in the first place, but here you are, tagging along, wondering where this road will lead you—literally and figuratively.

The scenery is nothing new, one you see everyday on your morning walk to the beach and back. You can't help it, old habits die hard. Your dad got a house walking distance from the piers mostly to avoid driving to work but also because he didn't want to be far if anything were to happen.

It also made it easy for him to just walk home, shower then sleep in his own bed.

What is new, is Mabel. The sound of her laugh, her smile and the way her presence draws you in without even trying. She's unlike anyone you've come across in a long time—bright, carefree, but with a depth you can sense just beneath the surface. She has this...you can't really explain it, but you want to find it what "this" is. You've caught glimpses of it in the way she listens to the people around her, in how her eyes soften when someone mentions something meaningful. She's got a story, just like everyone else and you want to know it.

In a town like this, everyone knows everyone's story. Everyone's background. Yet, the distance you created with this town the moment you discovered your father's dark truth, you stopped listening to the constant chatter and rumors this small town discusses.

You've learned to tune out the noise, the way people gossip and speculate about each other's lives. Especially with the rumors of your father's truths. The once kind and gentle girl-dad now a turned drug runner to pay off his gambling debt? Yeah, you stopped listening the moment you found out the rumors you may hear are more than often true. It's how you've survived, by keeping a low profile and focusing on your own problems. Your father did everything to keep your family's business low profile too. Until he made a deal with the wrong person.

But now, with Mabel, you find yourself wanting to listen again. To understand her story, not because of what others might say, but because you genuinely want to hear it from her.

The mystery surrounding her is different, not the kind that spreads through whispers but the kind that makes you curious—curious about what she's been through, what makes her laugh the way she does, and what's hiding behind those moments when her smile falters, even if only for a second. Her friendships. Her family.

But you remind yourself, as you walk along the familiar streets, that this isn't the time to get wrapped up in someone else. You've got enough on your plate—debts, responsibilities, and the pressure of trying to stay afloat. Still, there's something about her that makes it hard to shake the thought.

As the group continues walking, Charlie makes a joke that has everyone laughing, including Mabel. You think, she's an innocent, kind and beautiful soul. And this is just from a few hours with her.

What will trying to be just her friend do to that innocence, to that kindness and beauty of her soul?

You'll ruin it. Just like your father did with your family. So, you remember your training, and do what you do best.

When Mabel glances over her shoulder to look for you, you're gone. So is the smile she had all night just by simply being in your presence.

~~~~

Note: bear with me, I had a clear picture as to how I wanted this story to end but it changed like three times already. my brain is coming up with a new idea every time I proofread the chapters I have done so updates will be very slow.

[robolvrr]

Hi! I’m 19 just to clarify in case of anything.

Can I request HCS for TFA Optimus and Megatron with a childish human female reader, that basically yaps a lot and is energetic asf?

I was also wondering if you could make a NSFW version too? Tysm☺️🙏💕

hey non! gladly. 🤖

nsfw under the cut.

all charged up! ⊰⁠⊹ฺ⚡

tfa! optimus & megatron headcanons for a childish/energetic reader (fem! human)

"no, don't touch that. wh -- no, don't touch that either! oh, by the allspark, hellooo!"

optimus prime

remember when i said optimus stressed out protecting humanity?

yeah, this was primarily the source of why.

he's always got tons of responsibility placed on his shoulders.

his team, for one, is always managing to get themselves into trouble and while he cares for them deeply, he's gonna start gaining faceplate dents like ratchet.

so when you get fumbled in the crew? he thinks that maybe karma is out to get him from some past transgression.

"can i touch that?"

"no."

"how about.. this!"

"wh-- no. are you trying to lose one of those things?"

"fingers?"

"not the point. it's an axe, not a toy."

he chides you just like everyone else out of love.

if he didn't care (which just isn't in his circuits, is there a rusted piston anywhere in that heroic frame?) he'd let you go wild.

when the threat of death isn't looming though?

finds your characteristics to be rather charming. he is after all familiar with bee and the twins and sari.

you have a strange way of encouraging him to relax, believe it or not. remind him life isn't just work and balancing the universe in his servos.

when he isn't in a mood, he likes to listen to you ramble.

you have a unique perspective. like how you talk to him for hours about how you thought ghosts were real and ask silly questions about his culture like "do you guys eat rocks?"

he goes to you the most to consult about earth.

hyperfixations? he may not understand a lick of yours or just what "my little pony was and how it changed the internet for years to come", but he lets you animatedly describe every thought on every inch of your brain.

let's you sit on his shoulders.

similar to your planet, you've gotten him warmed up to you.

"just how much longer do you plan on prattling, little one?"

megatron

he's mean.

i mean, what do you expect from an galactic warlord?

not to say he doesn't find amusement in the behavior. his lackeys frequently argue and get into ridiculous situations and arguments on a cycles basis.

however, he doesn't like organics. given his predicament, fiending without the power of a frame to push his narratives for so long builds resentment.

at first he finds you an absolute nuisance. you were really a comment away from having shockwave get a hold of you instead.

he's kidnapped you from the autobots because similar to that meddlesome doctors offspring, they clearly hold high regards for you.

you just didn't stop talking.

yes, you got the large glass jar treatment.

yes, he did rattle it once when you asked him if "decepticons sounded like band name."

when he's feeling boredom, he'll demand you try to say anything interesting.

he holds little regard to your feelings. though he does find the need, almost craving, for you to constantly be restless.... somewhat entertaining.

think of how one looks at a mangy mutt. (isn't he a gentlemech?!)

nsfw.

optimus prime

"hahhh.. hff. just h-how long can you keep up this pace, haha!?"

you have the libido of a bunny.

optimus learns the hard way, when you first start to get intimate.

you're eager -- you both are -- but he finds your wandering hands to be almost overwhelming as you just can't keep still.

you ask him lots and lots of questions. how big is he? can you lick his valve? are those fluids toxic? do you need to get protection?

his helm is hot to the touch. he ends up putting his digit in your mouth as a distraction.

interfacing with you is never slow. it's why he has to concentrate every control filter to not slamming into you when you claw at his array and whine at him to stop being a bully.

he's about to correct you but of course, you're talking. his audials are close to setting on fire.

you shove yourself on his spike and he bites his dermas hard, because you're just so eager and he's way too big. just the tip is enough to create a bulge at your mound and suddenly, his intake feels very, very dry.

you're so talkative. too talkative.

"ha... mmn! your spike is so, so good! i-i can't believe i'm doing this! sex with a giant. ahn! robot!!! this is the best day of my life!"

his optics are burning and bright. your excitement drips down his shaft.

when the compliments get to be too much, he ends up grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind you, bouncing your body against his hips.

he silences you a lot with kisses. not out of annoyance (though sometimes you do get too loud and he's not trying to risk waking up the entire base), but because you fluster him so damn bad.

when he overloads and you're squealing, he lifts you up just to see the sticky transfluid roll down your ankles.

".... another round?"

"another!?"

megatron

"not so chatty now, are you little one?"

megatron's cruelty does not stop at the berthroom.

his way of dealing with your nonstop buzzing? is to simply frag it out of you.

it's painfully indulgent. you're the size of nothing compared to him, a behemoth of a being outside your comprehension. he treats you like a sleeve.

you ask the stupid notion if maybe he needed to get his frustration out in a more "fun" way.

then maybe he wouldn't be so gloomy all the time!

the look he gives is terrifying. that smile isn't helping either....

all that energy and innocent glee? he plans on putting to good use.

now, he finds your cherub nature enchanting. how you whine and chirp out silly protests, huffing how he's just a "big, bad meanie" and you were gonna "make him regret it, so help it!"

"yesss, yesss. cry harder, little human."

takes you from behind so he can stick a single digit in the pocket of your cheek. you loll your tongue out in a way he finds appealing and stupid.

when you go on rambles amidst his planning, primarily when you are bored and lonely, don't be surprised if he opens his panels at your chin and pops it in between your lips.

"am... i... ffff.. a-am i gonna get pregnant with your little ro--"

"don't finish that imbecilic question unless you want this to be the last time, girl."

megatron's human concubine. there's a first time in history for everything, after all.

deep down? he doesn't want you to change a bit. he rather likes breaking you down.

[stuckyslut8]

Gimme gimme

(this is just a glimpse of my new series.)

Warning: dom Bucky, sub reader, bratty reader, chubby Bucky. Chubby Bucky. Absolute filth. Bucky's Rules Riding Bucky. Baker reader. Not proofread.

Summary: future congressman Bucky being an absolute hottie and dominating man in bed.

A/N : I just found out about Bucky being a congressman, and it made me an absolute whore. Also idk all of this congressman shit it detail so ignore all the plotholes .18+Minors DNI.

You were currently laying in bed with Bucky after your passionate love making session, Bucky was on his back, you were cuddled next to him wrapping an arm around his torse, over his chubby belly that you loved so much. "Hmm Bucky?"

"yeah babygirl" he said , still recovering from his release.

"so you're really gonna be a congressman?" You ask rubbing his belly, hands slowly trailing towards his cock, stroking it teasingly. Bucky tried to ignore your actions, as he was clearly used to your shenanigans at this point, he wouldn't be surprised if you got down on your knees while he was delivering a public speech,just to show your bratiness.

"yes doll, given everything i think i really wanna do it -" he stopped mid sentence due to your very unholy actions, but continued "i think it my help get my mind off things and focus on...making amends" he continued.

"hmm i think you'd make one hot congressman baby." You say stroking him faster ,you knew he was about to cum. Just then he stopped you, looking at you sternly, "come on doll you know the rules don't be a brat" he said as he neared his release.

"hmm"

"go on say it, you know the rules".

"rule number 1, you can't do anything illegal." You said cheekily

"not that...those are my rules what are the rules for you?" He said groaning, on the edge of his release you knew he wanted to cum so badly but he still wasn't willing to let go of his power.

"hmm...never let your cum go to waste Sargent " you said pouting.

"right ,I'm not gonna fucking cum over the sheets and waste it, where do you want it?" He asked ,trying to sound calm about it .

"in my pussy sarge obviously." You said as a matter of fact.

He smirked at your response," hmm good girl, now come on ride me." You get on top of him and sink your still wet cunt, that already had three rounds of his load onto his cock, you had certainly gotten better at taking him from this angle, which had been a struggle for you in the beginning of the relationship, but Bucky trained you well, "good girl " he said as you started bouncing on his cock, soon after he came filling you up again with his hot spurts of cum, Bucky was hazy from the release but that hadn't stopped you from riding him , you Rode him through his high until he came again, and so did you this time.

"good girl" he said patting your thigh.

"mmph you're gonna look so hot giving commands like this at the Congress baby, i'd get myself off watching you on tv." You said still on top of him , cock deep in your pussy.

"you say the filthiest things sweet girl..." he said pulling you in for a kiss.

"Never would have expected this from the sweet baker i met in Brooklyn." He said clearly admiring your view on top of him.

"hmm well if clearly didn't expect this from the sweet boy i met at my bakery,either the one who was scared to even ask my name., you're quite horny for an old man." I joked.

"hmm maybe the first thing i'd do as a congressman would be to pass a bill to stop your bratiness sweetheart." He said, tracing a finger down your thigh.

"mmph you love it." Bucky can't deny that , he clearly loved how bratty and shameless you are when you're around him.

"or maybe pass a bill that would make it illegal for you to wear any panties around the house ." He said with a smirk.

"hmm I can always find a loophole sarge ." I challenged him

"hmm loophole? Sounds like a creative way to get punished again bratty girl." He said.

"hmm maybe I'll get out of my punishment by getting on my knees sarge, how does that sound." I said biting his lower lip.

"hmm no way, bad girls always get punished." He added before he flipped you both, while he was still in you, and put you on your back, placing your legs over his shoulder, with a grin on his face, "ready for round four doll?"

[in-death-sacrifice]

Stolen moments

Lucanis Dellamorte x AFAB! (Crow) Rook

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Light voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex,

You stayed near Viago exchanging pleasantries with anyone that approached the two of you. Word had spread all over Thedas about what you had achieved. How not one but two members of the Crows had fought to protect the world from the gods. So of course the Talons were going to proudly display them both. "You don't have to look so bored you know?" Viago joked from beside you, his eyes lighting up in amusement as he caught you scanning the room for the 3rd time that night. "Perhaps you should be a better company then" you retorted sarcastically causing the man beside you to laugh. "You're just angry I'm keeping you by my side and not letting you go to a certain someone" he teased, grinning as you turned your head trying to hide the giddish smile and blushing cheeks.

Between the aftermath of the battle and all the Contracts Viago had assigned you on due to your rise in popularity; you barely got to meet the newly appointed first talon. The time away wasn't doing either of you and good. His lack of sleep had begun to catch up, running off the last long sleep he had with you weeks ago. Your bodies craved each other, the tension with the eye contact you had managed to do during the evening was enough to begin causing the whirlpool of need in your lower stomach- no doubt having the same effect on him.

Viago chuckled when you finally saw him again, the swaying on your feet had come to a stop, your eyes widened in adoration. He was almost tempted to keep you at his side forbid you from going over there just because it was funny seeing you so desperate for someone. But you had both been through enough - held your responsibilities professionally making sure not to ruin either house's reputation. He was honestly surprised Lucanis hadn't begged him to let you go to House Dellamorte. "Go..I'll find Teia or something" he chuckled, a smirk grew on his lips as he watched your head whip round. Smiling wide at him. You didn't even thank him, just ran off weaving through the crowd in hopes to find the host of the evening.

He found you first, his hand grasping your wrist as he dragged you away from the evening. You wordlessly followed him down the endless corridors; enjoying the view from the back of your guide. The way his shoulders held such power and danger, his waist was just the perfect size. The muscles right under his shirt rippled as he walked, muscles you couldn't wait to dig your nails into the next time you got the chance. Perhaps Viago would be kind enough to let you stay the night, creating some excuse as to why you didn't leave the party with him to reduce chatter and gossip among the other crows. The door shut softly as he led you into a room, his eyes were soft as he gazed at you; that damn smile plastered on his face. The one that made you melt the first time finally admitted you felt, before you both faced impossible odds. "Rook."

You couldn't help the blush that decorated your cheeks from the sultry tone that left his lips as he called your name. You sighed as his hand touched your cheek. The feeling of his catolloused fingers was sorely missed, ones that had been shaped through years of killing much like your own. "I've missed you" he whispered as his arms enveloped your frame bringing you close. Lucanis was never one for a quick fuck, always wanting to make sure you both left the room completely satisfied or he would wait until he could do that. His hands had already begun slipping under the fabric of your top as he untucked it causing you to gasp when his cold hands made contact with the skin.

"I've missed you too, I think Viago got bored of hearing me complain about it" you chuckled. Lucanis smirked, his eyes darkening as he brought you in for another kiss. "I think we can make up for lost time no?" He grinned. You pulled back gazing at the man before you, his hair nicely trimmed along with his beard all for show to the houses that gathered tonight. "Isn't it rude for the host to slip away from their own party?" You teased as your fingers began to work on his clothing. A dark chuckle escaped his lips again before he pinned you against the door. "I'm sure people will be patient and distracted for a while"

His teeth nipped at your pulse point, saving the way it beat against his lips. He could hear Spite's satisfaction that you were well and truly alive and healthy. His fingers began to run down your sides, undoing the many layers of clothing that hid your body away from him. "Damn Viago for making you wear this many layers" he muttered against the marks he had left, claiming you. It would raise the gossip between everyone, all the houses will try and figure out who left the large purple mark for everyone to see but in this moment neither of you cared. After everything you had been through, why should either of you.

You stood bare against the door, the metal embellishments cold against the heat of your skin. You admired his build, somehow more toned than before. Your lips pressed feather like kisses over his heart earning sweet hums of contentment as he savoured the feeling. His hands found your thighs gripping them as he hoisted you against the door. You could feel his tip prod at the entrance, pre cum leaking eagerly against your folds. His hips moved slowly gathering the arousal that left your weeping entrance before he slowly slid himself in. The two of you are groaning at the feeling as your walls stretched to welcome the intrusion.

His pace was slow dragging the whole length out before he would bottom himself. Saving the way your walls clenched around him. His eyes shut as he attempted to steady himself, savour this feeling as neither of you know when you could get this chance again. His mouth twitched upwards into a smile as he hears your whines and whimpers, evidence that he was satisfying you perfectly. With new found confidence he increased his speed, the primal need to claim you began pulsing in his blood.

Your nails scratched down his back releasing deep groans from his lips. His hips started to sputter as he got closer to his release, your moans becoming breathy pants as your own shattered through you. You relaxed against the cool surface of the door, allowing him to continue to use you until he found his own release.

He buried himself deep as his cock finally twitched, his load spurting deep inside you filling you with warmth. His head rested on your shoulder breathing in your scent as he cooled down. Your fingers played with the strands of his hair grounding you. It was moments like this that you missed the most, the shared intimacy of the moment as you both relaxed. You loved how he became putty in your arms begging for the touch he never knew he needed.

You had both been through so much, your hands ran over the scars that littered his back some stories still untold but etched into his skin as haunted memories. Lucanis moved the two of you away from the door, unsheathing himself as he settled you on the chair. "I've missed you" he whispered embracing you. His missed the feeling of you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. "I've missed you too" you chuckled, relishing in the skin to skin contact you both craved. You both may be busy now but you know in your heart you'll always return. "Can't wait for the night to end and I can finally sleep in your arms again...I've needed it badly"

You smiled at him watching the way his eyes relaxed as you brushed your fingers through the strands of his hair. "Maybe we should go back and end the night quickly..and then I'll make sure to leave the door unlocked for someone to possibly enter" you whispered. Lucanis chuckled against your neck breathing your scent one last time before getting dressed again ready to face the rest of the event with few found goals for the end of the night.

[unfriendlies]

jesse was a bit shocked with mitsuki's response. he was so sure that the other would have found his words offensive, or taken them negatively, so that's why he had to backtrack a little bit. but even with the effort he put in to explain himself, jesse was convinced it would have upset mitsuki. "you've talked about me with her?" the surprises just kept coming. he felt a bit bad that he really couldn't talk about his love life with his parents, the only relative he could be open about that sort of thing with was his brother but even then, jesse felt like he was being judged. they both knew what their parents expected of them and his brother, a pushover, felt that the both of them just needed to give in to their parents' wishes even if it meant going against their heart. marrying a woman just wasn't something jesse could do. he'd never slept with a woman before and he had zero plans to do so. in turn, that meant he wouldn't be having children with whoever he married if he chose to marry a woman and that would go completely against his parents' desires. while jesse wanted to have the kind of friendships that mitsuki talked about, he didn't trust people enough to bring them home to meet his family. he knew that dramas were exactly just that, situations were emphasized for the drama they'd cause. but he still couldn't help but feel that if people knew who his parents were, how much power they held in their respective field, and their wealth, whoever was trying to further themselves into his life would only be doing so to tap into what his parents could provide. but then there was the fact that he was so sure he would never bring home a man to meet his parents so they wouldn't get to learn how important to society his parents actually were. that was something he was jealous of in regards to mitsuki. sure, he loved the life he had, he loved the bit of fame he made for himself and the money he's earned but what he really wanted was that closeness that mitsuki seemed to have with his parents. "i think i just need some time to prepare myself." that mostly meant he'd spent countless hours questioning mitsuki, learning about the other man's family from him rather than from a first encounter meeting with them. jesse followed mitsuki to the bathroom, though he did trail behind a bit so he didn't actually see the other undress completely. he simply walked to the opened door and seen mitsuki was completely bare, jesse stood there in the doorway to give himself a moment to admire his lover from behind. his hands reached for the button to his jeans, popping it open quickly before his fingers pulled down the zipper but he made no attempt to remove his jeans just yet. instead, he approached mitsuki from behind and wrapped his arms around the smaller man's torso. "you are so unbelievably considerate." he whispered before pressing his lips to the other's neck just behind his ear. what he really wanted to say was that he could honestly see himself making a good life with mitsuki, settling down and making a home with him. that was something he'd never felt with anybody else before. "you are so dangerous for me, you have no idea how hard it is for me to hold back."

"Oh no, I didn't expect you to meet them right away...but if you wanted to...we could keep our relationship secret and introduce you as my friend. I mean heck...we've been friends a while and I feel like it's unfair that my parents never got to meet the friend I was gushing over all the time. So how about you come over for dinner sometime. Just as my friend, okay?" he figured meeting the parents as his friend would be a good way to ease into things plus he felt bad his family never met his friend anyway. He looked up "My mother already knows a lot about you...nothing too personal I promise. She says she's excited to meet my tall friend...I think she refuses to remember your name...you will have to remind her often" he laughed then shook his head "Not knowing your friends' families is a choice, but if I am friends long enough I like to introduce my friends to my family because friends are like family too...at least to me" friendship was different for everyone and Mitsuki only got close with people he felt a proper connection with and since he was close with his family they were always asking about his friends, it seemed Jesse wasn't super close with his family so he had a different perspective on things. "Also you are a Korean celebrity....we are in Japan. My parents likely have no idea who you are...I hinted that you do some stuff...but I didn't say you were well known" he laughed "Just don't dress super fancy and they won't notice" he grabbed his hand "But if you are still unsure about meeting them I understand....I just...I just want them to know you...cause even if we ever stopped dating...you would continue to be my best friend. You are saving me from being homeless...I am honored to know you" he leaned up kissing his cheek "Now let's shut up and take a bath, I am freezing. Getting rained on is not idea" he stripped down, he was working on not being so shy around his boyfriend so he got naked and carefully hung the clothes to dry, he tossed his underwear in a dirty clothes hamper, he figured the clothes were still clean since he only wore them a short time. He headed to the bathroom and turned the tub on.

[emmkayy03]

Vedic Astro Observations

Hey fam!

I practice astrology and look at a lot of charts daily, and let me tell you—every chart is a whole vibe. 🌌 Over time, I’ve noticed some patterns and quirks with different placements and nakshatras that I just had to share. So here’s a little cosmic tea for y’all. ☕ Let me know if any of this hits home! 👇

💡 Sun in Rohini Nakshatra: A magnetic and creative presence! These individuals often excel in artistic or material pursuits. They're charming and naturally attract abundance but need to guard against possessiveness. This stems from Rohini's connection to beauty and luxury as ruled by the Moon.

🌿 Moon in Anuradha Nakshatra: Deeply loyal and intuitive souls who value meaningful connections. They often have a mysterious aura and are drawn to occult sciences or mysticism, thanks to Anuradha's Saturn-Mars influence, teaching lessons of devotion and resilience.

🔥 Mars in Dhanishta Nakshatra: Born leaders with a rhythm for success. They often thrive in competitive fields and have a natural talent for music, athletics, or strategy. Ruled by Mars and the drum (Dhanishta's symbol), this placement drives them to lead and stay in sync with their goals.

🎨 Mercury in Swati Nakshatra: These natives are adaptable and diplomatic, with a gift for languages and negotiation. Their minds are like the wind—always curious and searching for new ideas. Swati, ruled by Rahu, inspires freedom, curiosity, and the desire to learn.

💎 Venus in Revati Nakshatra: Dreamy romantics who love to immerse themselves in art, poetry, or spiritual practices. They often look for soul-level connections and are deeply compassionate. Revati’s Jupiter influence amplifies their idealism and love for beauty.

🛠 Saturn in Uttara Phalguni Nakshatra: Hard-working perfectionists who build success through persistence. Their sense of duty is strong, and they often rise as pillars of their communities or families. The Sun’s energy in Uttara Phalguni motivates them to take responsibility seriously.

🌀 Rahu in Ardra Nakshatra: Intense seekers of truth and change. They might face early-life challenges but emerge as powerful forces of transformation, often excelling in tech or innovation. Ardra’s connection to Rudra, the storm deity, brings upheavals that drive personal growth.

🌾 Ketu in Shravana Nakshatra: Wise and introspective. These individuals are drawn to philosophy, spiritual teachings, and ancient knowledge. They may experience a detachment from worldly pursuits, reflecting Shravana's connection to listening and learning under the Moon's nurturing yet reflective nature.

🎭 Random Vibes Based on Specific Placements:

Venus in Pushya Nakshatra: These natives are nurturers in love. They often find joy in creating a warm, comfortable home environment. This comes from Pushya’s connection to nurturing energy (ruled by Brihaspati) and Venus’s desire for harmony.

Jupiter in Purva Ashadha Nakshatra: These people are natural motivators, with strong ideals and a competitive spirit. They have a knack for inspiring others, as Purva Ashadha’s Venusian influence brings charisma and the urge to uplift others.

Sun in Bharani Nakshatra: Passionate and fearless, but they often undergo life-altering transformations. Bharani's connection to Yama, the god of death, teaches them to embrace cycles of creation and destruction, fostering their intensity.

Moon in Shatabhisha Nakshatra: Lone wolves with a healer's touch. They have an affinity for alternative medicine or astrology and are deeply private. Shatabhisha, ruled by Rahu, emphasizes introspection and seeking hidden truths, shaping their solitary nature.

Mars in Mula Nakshatra: Rooted warriors who are unafraid to dive into the depths of truth. They have a fiery determination to rebuild from scratch if needed. Mula, ruled by Ketu and symbolized by roots, inspires a desire to break illusions and uncover the essence of life.

[bookwormjust]

Burning the Midnight Sun (established relationship with Helion)

The library is quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning and your quill scratching furiously across parchment. It’s early morning, and the golden light filtering through the tall windows does little to ease your exhaustion. You’ve been working since dawn, your mind focused on one thing: finding a solution. The epidemic spreading through one of the other courts demands an urgent response, and the healers are relying on your research to develop a medication. You can’t afford to stop, even though your body protests with every passing minute.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you write, the combination of fatigue and hunger gnawing at the edges of your focus. You haven’t eaten today—again. The thought of food barely crosses your mind when there’s so much at stake, and the weight of responsibility presses down on you like an anvil. Your hair, a cascade of rich brown, falls in loose strands around your face, but you don’t bother to push it back. Your eyes, dark and intense, flicker over the ancient texts piled around you, searching for something—anything—that might offer a breakthrough.

You can feel the energy of the sun outside, the source of your mate’s power, warming the world beyond the library, but here, in the cool, quiet space of the archives, you’re locked in your own world of words and alchemical symbols.

Helion’s presence comes to you long before you hear him. His power is like the sun itself, radiant and golden, and you’ve always felt it before he arrives—like a soft warmth that spreads over your skin. But today, you’re too deep in your work to notice, too lost in the formulas and calculations scattered before you. 

A soft knock sounds at the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of it opening. You don’t look up, even as you hear Helion’s familiar footsteps approach. He knows better than to interrupt you when you’re this focused, but that doesn’t stop him from checking on you. He always does.

"Sunshine," his voice is smooth, rich like melted gold, but laced with concern. You hear the amusement in his tone, but also the underlying worry. "Still at it, I see."

You glance up briefly, offering him a tired smile. "There’s still so much to do. The healers need this information *yesterday*, Helion. I’m close—I just need a little more time."

He steps closer, his golden robes rustling softly as he moves. His eyes, bright and warm as the sun at noon, study you with a mixture of affection and concern. You feel his gaze sweep over you, taking in the dark circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, the way your hands tremble slightly from exhaustion. 

"You haven’t eaten today, have you?" he asks, his voice softer now, more serious. He reaches out and gently brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin. "You’re running yourself ragged, sunshine."

You open your mouth to protest, but the growl of your stomach betrays you. You haven’t eaten since yesterday, and the thought of stopping now feels like surrender. There’s too much at stake, too many people depending on you. 

"I’m fine," you murmur, turning back to the parchment in front of you. "I just need a little more time."

But Helion is not so easily dismissed. He moves to your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch is grounding, a stark contrast to the cold logic and clinical focus that’s been consuming you for hours.

"You know I love how dedicated you are," he says, his tone teasing but still filled with that same worry. "But even the sun needs to rest."

You lean into his touch, letting out a small sigh. You’re too tired to argue, too worn down by the relentless hours of research. "I just… I need to finish this. People are dying, Helion. I can’t stop."

He kneels down beside your chair, his face level with yours now, his golden eyes softening as he gazes up at you. "And you’ll save them," he says, his voice low and soothing. "But you won’t save anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

His words cut through the fog of your focus, and you feel the weight of your own fatigue settling into your bones. He’s right, of course. He usually is, when it comes to taking care of yourself. 

"Just take a break," Helion insists, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. "Let me take care of you, just for a little while. You’ve done more than enough today."

You hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the notes scattered across the table, but the warmth of his hand, the gentle hum of his power soothing your frayed nerves, makes it hard to resist. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and you know it. 

Finally, you nod, the tension in your body easing slightly. Helion’s smile is soft, filled with that familiar warmth you’ve come to rely on. He rises to his feet and gently pulls you up with him. You’re unsteady at first, your legs weak from sitting for so long, but Helion’s hands are there, steady and reassuring.

"Come on, sunshine," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Let’s get you some food. Then you can get back to saving the world."

You let him lead you away from the desk, your body leaning into his warmth, grateful for his presence. Helion always knows when to step in, when to remind you that even the brightest lights need rest. And as tired as you are, you know that with him by your side, you’ll find the strength to finish what you started.