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#[ T - T thank you SO MUCH for sticking with my writing for that long omg ]
despairforme · 3 months
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hi toby! ive been a fan of your writing for a long time and the threads you had with your now deactivated partner, lexie, and i was wondering on why does nnoitra keep constantly thinking about grimmjow when nnoitra, himself, cheated on him and thinks that hes that deserving of having any form of relationship when he's a bad person. isn't he supposed to be this masculine guy that doesn't let stupid stuff get to him? wouldn't he just move on when grimmjow wants nothing to do with him? curious.
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Ah, FUCK. He sure as shit didn't want to talk ( or think ) about this.
Isn't he supposed to be this masculine guy that doesn't let stupid stuff get to him?
Damn, he sure as hell wished things were that easy. If he could choose to NOT let stuff bother him, he'd have the best life ever. Unfortunately, he wasn't like that. He wasn't sure whether or not that had anything to do with his masculinity though. It wasn't like he was whining about his old relationship. He did think about Grimmjow quite a lot though, that was true. Was he not allowed to even think about him? His relationship with Grimmjow hadn't been some fling. It had been a deep, committed relationship. A connection that had lasted for many years. And Nnoitra had never loved ANYONE like he'd loved ( and, in a way, still loved ) Grimmjow.
First things first - the cheating.
Yeah, he'd cheated on Grimmjow, but that was not the full story. People usually said there was no excuse for cheating, and Nnoitra would agree. However, there was an explanation.
His relationship with Grimmjow had been falling apart. Not through arguments, but through a growing distance. Grimmjow had simply stopped giving him attention. Going without sex had been one thing ( Nnoitra had a huge sex drive, he needed to get laid ), but going without affection had been worse. Living with a person who didn't give him any attention what-so-ever. Feeling Grimmjow's love for him dwindle. Fade away. Nnoitra had ALWAYS feared that deep down, Grimmjow couldn't forgive him for what he'd done, and that that would eventually lead him to fall out of love with him. Having this fear unfold before him had been the worst. Nnoitra had never felt more unlovable than during those months. Yet, he'd held on. Hoping. That maybe Grimmjow would come back to him. Would look at him again. Touch him. Tell him: Sorry, I was going through something, but it's not your fault, I still love you. Of course, that didn't happen. It was just a fucking fantasy. OF COURSE Grimmjow would fall out of love with him. If he ever even loved him in the first place. Maybe their whole relationship was just built on Grimmjow trying to somehow cope with the trauma Nnoitra had caused him. Like a fucked up sort of Stockholm syndrome.
When Nnoitra had gotten a text from his ex, Kyota, asking to meet up, Nnoitra had hesitated. Even meeting up with Kyota while he was dating Grimmjow had felt wrong, but - in the end, he'd just NEEDED to see a friendly face. When he'd met up with Kyota at the bar, he hadn't had any plans of going to bed with him. Cheating on Grimmjow with Kyota hadn't been the plan.
But, when faced with Kyota's kindness, and the straight-forward invitation for a good fuck? Nnoitra hadn't resisted. He'd known he was throwing everything he had with Grimmjow away, and he'd chosen that. Just to feel close to someone. Just to feel good, for the first time in months.
He'd never told Grimmjow about the cheating, but maybe the other had figured it out somehow. In any case, one night Nnoitra had come home from work - Grimmjow had been gone. No goodbye. Nothing.
Why did his relationships always end with people leaving him without a word? Nnoitra had asked himself that many times. He wondered if the answer was that his partners were afraid of him. Maybe they were afraid he'd hurt them. Grimmjow had every reason to believe that, so Nnoitra couldn't blame him. Kyota too had left him like that. Without a word, even though Nnoitra had never hurt him. Perhaps he'd been able to see it anyway. See what kind of person Nnoitra was.
That was the story of how he'd cheated on Grimmjow. It wasn't like he'd excuse his behavior. However, he knew that if his relationship with Grimmjow had been good, he never would've done it.
Then, next - it was the matter of him thinking he was DESERVING of a relationship. This was simply not true. Nnoitra DIDN'T think he deserved to be loved. He knew he was a bad person. The worst kind of person, and there was no way he could ever hide that from anyone ( not that he even tried ). If someone managed to fall in love with him ( it could happen, since it had happened before ), they'd fall out of love with him when they saw his true self. There was only so long someone could lie to themselves about what Nnoitra was.
He didn't understand why this stranger thought he thought that he deserved a relationship. He WANTED one, sure. But that didn't mean he thought it was what he deserved. People usually didn't get what they deserved. They just got whatever random shit the universe decided for them. He'd pay for his sins when he died and ended up in hell. In the meantime... He sure would like to at least feel loved again. If only for a little bit.
Why was he so HUNG UP on Grimmjow? Why didn't he "just move on"? That sounded like some shit advice from someone who didn't understand. It was a cliche to say that, he supposed. He just didn't think that how things had turned out with Grimmjow could be classified as "stupid stuff". Stupid stuff was... When you dropped your phone, or someone gave you the wrong drink, or the bus didn't drop you off at your stop.
Having your fear of not being lovable confirmed by the person you loved the most in the entire world - that was not "stupid stuff". Moving past it wasn't that easy. ESPECIALLY when he hadn't gotten ANY sort of closure. It would've been easier if Grimmjow had broken up with him. Had told him everything straight out. Nnoitra would've preferred to hear him say: I DON'T LOVE YOU. Somehow, being left without a word was an even worse type of rejection.
It was unfair to say that he wasn't moving on at all, because - he was. He WAS looking ( though halfheartedly ) for a new partner. Be it a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Sure, he thought about Grimmjow from time to time, but not nearly as much as he had done a year ago. What was he supposed to do? Forget all about him? That wasn't happening. He'd known him since they were fifteen. How do you forget a person like that? He didn't even WANT to forget. He did want to move on though - or, to keep moving on. It was a process. It wasn't like stubbing your toe and "deciding to walk it off".
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️
Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.
My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!
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It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.
But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.
You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.
Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.
You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.
You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.
You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.
“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.
When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.
On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.
You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.
–X–
It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.
You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.
But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.
It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.
The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.
Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.
–X–
It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.
Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.
You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.
You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.
Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.
You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.
“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.
You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.
“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.
“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.
“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.
–X–
It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.
It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.
Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.
“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.
He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.
It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.
“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”
“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.
“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.
“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”
“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.
“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”
–X–
For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.
You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.
You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.
“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.
“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”
“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.
“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.
“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.
“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.
“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.
“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.
The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.
Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.
“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.
And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.
He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.
“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.
“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.
“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.
“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.
“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.
“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.
“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.
“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”
“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.
“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.
“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.
“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”
“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”
You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.
“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.
“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.
“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.
“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.
He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.
It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.
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stevethehairington · 1 year
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for the writing prompt, can I request numbers 37 & 64? It sounded so cute in my head 🥺
hiiii! thank you for the prompts!! double action hell yeah!! these two go soooo well together too omg.
you did not say any specific pairing, so i went ahead and wrote steddie because they are my default <3
37. "can i kiss you" + 64. "it's two sugars, right?"
Eddie wakes up in his bed feeling more peaceful than he has in a long time.
He lets consciousness return to him slowly, basking in the soft sunlight that seeps through the blinds, the cozy warmth of the bedsheets, and the delicious ache of his body as he stretches out.
The memories of last night trickle back to the forefront of his brain, and a syrupy smile spreads across his face.
Eddie hums contentedly and nuzzles into the pillow. Lazily, he wonders if his luck has stuck around long enough for a round two (or round three, really) in his near future.
But when he sweeps his arm out from under himself and towards the other side of the bed — towards the body that’s supposed to be there, all it catches is air. There’s a lingering warmth against the sheets, but it’s the only sign that anyone was there at all.
Eddie blinks his eyes open properly and sits up. Disappointment wells up as his sight confirms what his touch had told him:
Steve is gone.
Oh.
It… it stings. Eddie can’t say that it doesn’t. Maybe it was naive of him to think that last night had meant as much to Steve as it did to him, but he had. Thought that.
The idea that this whole thing was just… just a one night stand? It hurts. Eddie doesn’t want it to be a one night stand. Steve had been so sweet, too. So attentive. It didn’t feel like a one night stand for him either. But what did Eddie know? Maybe that’s just how Steve is with all of his bed partners. Maybe he just makes them all feel that special.
Or, shit. Maybe Steve isn’t even into guys. Maybe he’d thought that he was and last night just proved that no, actually, he’s not. Except — no, no. That can’t be true. The sounds he was making last night were way too real to be fake. That was enjoyment, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. 
So then maybe Steve just isn’t into Eddie. And instead of being honest with him, instead of telling him straight up, he slipped out before Eddie could wake up. He didn’t have the guts to break Eddie’s heart, so he just… left. Disappeared. It’s a dick move, but… sometimes old habits die hard, right? Maybe his heart wasn’t so gold that the assholery couldn’t slip back through the cracks.
But Eddie can’t believe that either. Not with the way Steve’s been looking at him. Smiling at him. All of the excuses he’d make to be around Eddie; and the constant touches to his shoulder, his arm, his back, and the way they lingered; the way he’d laugh at everything Eddie had to say, even if it wasn’t funny. There’s no way Eddie read the signs wrong. Steve was interested. In Eddie.
Before Eddie can spiral any further, though, a creak sounds off from somewhere outside of his bedroom and he freezes in place. Wayne isn’t home yet, he’d taken a double shift at the plant today, and won’t be home until the evening. Which means, unless Eddie’s home is being robbed, there’s only one other person that could be snooping through the kitchen cupboards like that…
His heart starts to jump rope in his chest as he ambles out of his bedroom, down the short hall, and into the kitchen. And, just as he thought— just as he hoped, he finds Steve standing at the counter. 
He’s still sleepsoft, in nothing but his boxers (or maybe those are Eddie’s, actually) and one of Eddie’s worn old t-shirts. His hair is flat, rumpled in the front and sticking up in the back, like he’d slept on it funny. There are still pillow creases in his cheek. He is beautiful.
He’s also speaking to the ancient coffee maker in a mild-mannered tone, whispering gentle encouragements and positive affirmations to it, like those will coax it into finally working right.
Fat chance.
“Come on, baby, come on. You can do it! You can make a cup of coffee, I know you can! Come on, work with me here,” Steve pleads.
When the coffee machine continues to do nothing, Steve curses under his breath and smacks his palm against the side.
Eddie can’t help himself as he snorts at the Jekyll and Hyde change of heart, and Steve startles at the sound, spinning around.
“Oh, hey,” he says, shoulders relaxing when he realizes it’s just Eddie. 
“Hey,” Eddie replies, and his cheeks warm for no good reason. “I see you’ve met Leonard.”
Steve’s nose scrunches up. “Who the fuck is Leonard?”
Eddie jerks his chin towards the coffee maker. “Leonard,” he introduces. “He’s a crotchety old fucker. Only does what you want when he wants to. Kind of like Wayne.”
Steve laughs. “You just gotta treat him right then. That’s all. A little sweet talking is all it takes.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah — Harrington charm hasn’t failed me yet. Just you watch.”
Steve pets the side of the coffee machine, caresses it, more like. He leans in close and whispers, “Come on, big guy. I know you can do it. Just give me some of that sweet sweet lifeblood you’re so good at making, that’s all I want.”
The smooth tone and the flattery make Eddie think of last night again — the praise and the exaltation and the so good, baby, so good for me that Steve kept repeating like a prayer. 
None of this now is directed at him, but he still feels hot all over. (Is it reasonable to be jealous of a fucking coffee maker?)
But then, against all odds, Leonard sputters to life. First, a tiny little drip. Then another, and another, and another, until finally a full stream of hot, fresh coffee spills into the waiting carafe below.
Holy shit. Steve can talk anything over the edge, apparently. Harrington charm indeed.
Steve brightens and sends a triumphant grin Eddie’s way. It’s tinged with smugness too, and Eddie shakes his head at him. (Fondly, always fondly.)
“Hah, see? I still got it,” Steve boasts. He waggles his eyebrows and Eddie wants to kiss him again.
He doesn’t know if he can, though. He doesn’t know what this is, and he doesn’t want to make assumptions.
Instead, Eddie moves over to the table and drops himself into one of the chairs. “You makin’ breakfast?” He asks.
“Just coffee,” Steve responds, “but I can make something to eat if you want.”
A home cooked breakfast sounds so nice. All Eddie usually eats in the mornings is toast or cereal. Something hot off the stove would be a treat. But Eddie doesn’t want to rope Steve into cooking for him if he doesn’t want to. If he… has other plans. Like leaving. Eddie doesn’t know his morning after habits.
“No, it’s okay,” Eddie tells him.
He’s about to add on that maybe just a cup of coffee for himself would be nice, if that’s not too much trouble for Steve, but Steve is two steps ahead, as always.
He brushes up against Eddie’s side and sets a steaming mug right in front of him.
“It's two sugars, right?” He asks.
Eddie blinks up at him. “Yeah, I— how’d you know that?”
Steve smiles. “I pay attention.”
And it’s— it’s so fucking sweet. Steve’s never made Eddie a single cup of coffee in his life but— but he knows how Eddie takes it anyways. And he made it for him without even asking. Just thought of Eddie, like it was no big deal. Like he wanted to do something nice for him.
Steve turns to go back to Leonard and pour his own cup of coffee, but Eddie lunges forward to catch his wrist before he can go far.
“Can I kiss you?”
Steve wrinkles his nose, tilts his head. “You have to ask?”
Eddie purses his lips and ducks his head. It’s a little embarrassing that he does have to ask. It makes him feel a little bad, too. Like he’s doubting Steve or something.
But he’s never done this before. Any of it. He doesn’t want to assume. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 
“I wasn’t sure,” Eddie replies.
“Eddie,” Steve says, sliding into the seat across from him. “We did a lot more than just kiss last night,” he points out.
And, yeah, they sure did. Eddie fights a flush as the memories of last night flood back. Steve on his back, Steve between his legs, Steve with his mouth and his hands all over Eddie, making him feel so good. 
Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, but that was last night,” he says, curling in on himself a little. He hates that he feels so insecure about this. Hates that he has to even bring it up. “It’s morning now. It’s a new day. It’s— I’m not sure— I just don’t know if last night was, like, some one time thing for you or…” he trails off. Shrugs again. His fingers toy with the handle of the mug in front of him.
Steve reaches out across the table to take Eddie’s hands. His thumbs brush over the tops of his knuckles, and he waits for Eddie to meet his eyes before he smiles — soft and sweet and warm. 
“It’s not just a one time thing for me, it’s really really not. I’m, like, so into you it’s kind of crazy,” Steve admits, a little breathless as he says it. “I want… I want everything with you. I want as much as you’ll give me.”
Eddie’s heart somersaults beneath his ribs, backflips across his chest, puts on a whole god damn gymnastics routine.
“That’s— yeah. I want that too,” he confesses back, twisting his hands in Steve’s so that he can tangle their fingers together properly.
The smile that lights up Steve’ face is brighter than the sun. Prettier, too.
“Steve,” Eddie says.
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Steve laughs, and he nearly knocks over the chair in his haste to stand up and round the table. He pushes himself into the space between Eddie’s knees, and cups Eddie’s face between his hands, holds his head like it’s something precious. Like he’s something precious.
“Yes,” Steve says, “you can.”
So Eddie pulls him into his lap, and he kisses him.
100 ways to say i love you prompts
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yandere-daze · 1 year
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Waa congrats on 3k daze! i've been here since 1400 (or maybe even before that. I can't quite recall) and it's really heartwarming to see my favourite writer grow so much ♡ For the event, can i please ask for the tower, the hierophant & temperance from the tarot prompts for mika? :)
Whoa, it seems like you´ve been around for quite a long time then! A lot of time has passed since the 1.4k followers event so it´s kind of impressive to hear that someone has been reading my stuff for that long, thank you for sticking around!☺️ And your favorite writer? Omg you´re flattering me and it´s working😳
And of course I´m always happy to write for Mika <3 I guess you can consider this a late birthday gift? Since I haven´t actually written any of the other stuff I´ve been meaning to write about him yet silnfls
gn reader
tw yandere, obsession, delusion, violence, allusion to murder, possessiveness, stalking, taking pictures of the reader (mentioned), worshipping the reader, implied kidnapping as a throw-away line
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The Tower - If this yandere saw their darling in danger, how would they respond/react? 
Okay so if you somehow got put into a dangerous situation, there´s no way Mika is going to be unaware of it because he´s always by your side, whether that´s him just tagging along no matter where you go and being generally clingy, or him stalking you from a safe distance away to “make sure you´re safe”.
And well, either way, he´s very glad that he made that decision to stay close to you ( and totally not for his own interests) because his beloved darling actually is in danger now, right in front of him!
Of course, Mika´s first reaction is one of shock and panic but that quickly turns into a blind rage after he has fully assessed the situation.
You´re right in front of him, calling out for help while someone else is endangering you.
And Mika just can´t have that. No one is allowed to touch his darling and he sees it as his duty to save and protect you.
So how does he deal with this tense and difficult situation? Violence.
Charges in screaming, probably yelling death threats and demanding for you be let go while he jumps at the attacker´s throat, fully intent on just killing them if you weren´t there to ground him a bit.
He doesn´t want you to see him as a violent person because that wouldn´t make for a good romantic partner so Mika hesitantly refrains from actually killing this person right in front of you and instead just beats them into a bloody pulp until he´s sure that they´re never ever going to try and put you in danger again.
Immediately afterward makes sure that you´re safe and checks up on any wounds you may have suffered while offering you words of comfort ( and candy from one of his pockets). Don´t worry, he´s going to take great care of you while you recover from that horrifying situation, he´s going to serve you in any way he can!
Of course only after searching out your attacker once more on his own and actually finishing the job now. They didn´t think they could get away with putting his darling in danger, did they?
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The Hierophant - Could this yandere´s darling fool them easily? Or be manipulated by them? 
Oh, it´s almost too easy in fact! Mika is an obsessed and worshipping yandere that puts his darling onto the highest of pedestals, you´re basically a deity to him.
He´s absolutely hellbent on pleasing you in any way he can, so it´s very easy to get him to do things for you. Mika will bend over backward just to hear your praise.
On that note, yes, praising him will get you pretty far and it will keep him satisfied for quite some time before he starts demanding more attention and affection from you.
He sees himself absolutely beneath you and so anything you say goes. In his eyes, it´s all to show you what a good boyfriend he could be for you by doing things for you all the time.
There´s also the fact that Mika is a very delusional yandere so as long as what you say or do fits with his ideal fantasy of you being a loving couple destined to be with each other for all eternity, he´ll believe it.
He´ll believe almost anything you say with a smile on his face because you could never be wrong.
He also just sometimes.... outright ignores things that would go against the delusions he had built himself about your relationship. All the times you accidentally let a hateful comment toward him slip? Oh, he simply didn´t hear you correctly!
The only thing that might be your downfall is Mika´s rampant jealousy though. If he has even a hint of suspicion that you might like someone else more ( even if it´s completely unfounded), he´s going to be quite a bit warier when you try to manipulate him.
The same counts for when you´ve done it too many times or have, in his eyes, “betrayed his trust”. Like trying to escape from him by making him take off your shackles.
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Temperance - What made this person yandere for their darling? 
Most of all, I feel the cause of Mika turning into a yandere is a combination of his childhood and his linked self-esteem issues.
As we know, Mika was given up by his birth parents into an orphanage and he had wondered for many years if they simply found him hideous. Always wondering about why they didn´t want him.
Mika is also very touch-starved and has said that he just craves love, it doesn´t matter how much it hurts him, how painful it is.
So when he meets you, someone that is so kind to him and willing to give him the attention and love he never really got? Well, he´s smitten and quickly starts to idolize you.
Mika is experiencing a feeling he has never felt for anyone else before and he soon grows obsessed with it, wanting to keep feeling all warm and fuzzy when you look his way or give him a compliment. Wanting to finally feel alive.
And while their relationship has grown and gotten a lot healthier in recent times, Shu´s past treatment of Mika also probably had an impact on him turning out this way.
He tries to accept that he´s no longer a doll, he´s a human with his own thoughts and feelings.
And yet. And yet he still wants to be controlled by you, he wants to have a purpose by serving you and making sure that you´ll always be happy ( with him at your side of course!)
Watching you every single day and taking photos of you when you aren´t looking just makes him even more enamored with you.
Mika is convinced you´re the most wonderful and divine person that has ever walked this earth, your beauty and benevolence second to none.
And he almost thinks he doesn´t deserve you.
But maybe just this once, he wants to be selfish too
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bon-is-gone · 2 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/bon-is-gone/748757237890170880/fluttershy-so-yeah-i-made-mlp-infection-au?source=share
*perks up* found this trend a while ago and I loved seeing mlp infection aus...idk why but I think mlp horrors are the best horrors! Like human horrors make me feel uncomfortable but replace the humans with colorful ponies and I wanna see it! (My random guess is, not knowing if I'm right or not, because I'm scared of it being transmitted to humans?) Anyway, now I'm curious about it!
What are the stages? How did it begin? You planning to make a bunch of art for it? Write a story via comic or written or as I've seen some do...videos? Or just draw a bunch of ponies infected? Sorry if I'm pushy or nosey...just fluttershy went from 0-100 so fast in your pics of her and looked so good...she looked so cute before infection and terrifying after! You have a great artstyle! I just had to learn if this was a one hit-thing or if it will bloom into a story or something!
AGDHAGDHSGDHAGSHGA I STILL CANT GET USED TO THE FACT THAT PEOPLE LIKE MY STUFF AND IVE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR NOW HDGAJGXISHDJ THANKYOUTHANKYOYTAHNKYOUTHANKYOU-
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Ah yes, my favorite subject
Dying ponies with rabies 😌
Imma try and answer all the questions amigo, however I'm writing this in 2 in the morning with a sh*t ton of adrenaline from the fact that you asked (I'm gonna have a heart attack oh lord) so do forgive me if I missed one-
Oh ehem-
Stages
So the sickness which I took for this au is Rabies! Which I think a lot if you might know what it is. Ofcourse, this is a more messed up type of rabbies. There's only 3 stages since the person transforms quickly(in a 1 day). 1st stage: after the pony gets bit by a subject with rabbies they start feeling weak, tired and nauseous. They also all of a sudden get scared of water 2nd stage: the ponies body starts to hurt, usually specific body parts feel the most pain (for example with fluttershy its her front hooves), which then start to get longer, stretching. 3rd stage the ponies body becomes disfigured, they become extremely aggressive and blood-thirsty, foam will start pouring out of their mouth and completely forget who they were before.
How did it begin?
Some chemist pony probably tried to find a cure for different types of sickness in the mlp world but instead made a potion for the missed up rabbies. He tested on some animals and one of them escaped. The animal got to fluttershy(because she's always with animals so she shall be the first victim) and bit her. The infection would continue on with twilight who wanted to go check up on her but instead got attacked.
You planning to make a bunch of art for it?
Oh buddy. OH BUDDY- I already nade some sketches of how twilight and Pinkie pie are before and after getting infected. I do want to draw some background ponies with those meters (you know those ones with like "hunger: 50%" or something) specifically this guy
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SILVER ZOOM 😎 I found him whilst browsing the mlp wiki for background ponies and omg I LOVE HIS DESIGN AJGDHSHDHWHDHDH
Also this fella
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Crystal earth gives me "I FELL INLOVE WITH AN EMO GIRL" vibes and I'm DIGGING IT
Write or make a story/comic/video? Or just draw a bunch of ponies infected?
I'm not a writer so hard pass on the story. Comic would LOVE to do that, however I'm not used to drawing ponies like, at all, So it takes me a really long time to get the look right(especially with all the different angles of the head, yikes). Now, the video? Hell f*cking yeah. I planned on making a video 100% doing it like people do on tiktok (or in my case youtube because I am not going to that wretched place, no offense to anyone who goes there) but never made it since I got sidetracked with other stuff lmao. So currently I will stick to just solely making art, but I will make a video about it no doubt. Complete story? Probably not.
Again thank you so much for asking! It makes me super happy when people ask me about my stuff or just opinions on anything. (I did not get held enough as a child God damn-) and no worries about being pushy! (You weren't honestly)
This was Bon, signing out
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the-pale-goddess · 10 months
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I'm new to the fandom and have been enjoying your work. I wanted to know what is your hc for Ethan and his mother? Did he forgive her or cut her off for good? If you have any fics on it, can you let me know? Thank you. 🙂
Omg, hi! It’s so wonderful to see a new member joining our little OH circus! Welcome to the fandom, dear, hope you’ll like it here ❤️ I’m beyond honored that you’re enjoying my fictional corner, especially since I’m not too active anymore. Thank you for giving my writing a chance and sending this amazing ask 🥰 
I don’t think that I have ever discussed Louise and her role in my canonverse before 👀 So I don’t have any fics to share, sorry! It could be due to the fact that the HC changed a few times along the way 😅
Before I settled on the canon endgame for E&T, I had a couple of different ideas that were messier (just like life itself) and less conventional. But I decided to go for the scenario that comforted me the most: our past and the mistakes of our parents don’t define us and even the most damaged individuals are capable of breaking the pattern. I picked this direction because I wanted to give Ethan and Tiffany the kind of love and warmth they didn’t have growing up. I’m embracing hope through Ted Lasso’s idea of rom-communism ksbskbsk However, it’s important to acknowledge that healing takes different forms and there are many ways to approach it! 
Now, let me elaborate on my take on Ethan and Louise…Or do not let me, I can never shut up lol
Ethan was very conflicted. On the one hand, he despised her and what she did to him and Alan, he didn’t see the point of their reconciliation. He didn’t want to reopen old wounds and was afraid that his father might get hurt again. That he might get hurt again, inevitably dragging Tiffany down and breaking her heart. On the other, though Louise was a complete stranger to him, she was still his mother, someone he used to care about more than anything in the world, and deep inside his long-drawn-out rage and pain there was some basic human compassion. Eventually, he realized that her decision to leave was actually the best gift she could offer given her issues, the necessary evil so to speak.
As a doctor, he obviously recognizes addiction as a chronic condition that needs to be managed and resolved through a highly personalized medical treatment. He was willing to ensure her medical assistance, but would it be possible with zero involvement? Was he ready to open the door and accept her apology? 
Ethan relied on Tiffany’s generous support and advice. Her insight was particularly important to him—her mother-daughter relationship has always been a sort of psychological Cold War, so she could certainly relate to the complexity of the situation. She encouraged him to embrace the emotions swirling inside and focus on what’s best for him. Even if Louise didn’t deserve forgiveness, it was essential to his own healing: he could finally truly move on and allow himself to be free of the burden he carried for years. She reminded him that he deserves a peace of mind and no one will find it for him—he’s not a helpless child anymore and he’s in charge of his own life. With Tiffany’s limitless patience and love guiding him through the mess in his head, Ethan gathered his strength and faced the emotional challenge. 
After serious consideration, Ethan chose to forgive his mother. Even though he had every reason to cut her off for good, every right to be selfish and unforgiving, he picked the more difficult road of sympathy, proving that he’s actually nothing like Louise—they may share a few personality traits, but he’s so much more than a bitter conclusion to a broken past.
But of course, just like he said in the playthrough, it didn’t mean that things were suddenly okay between them—quite the contrary. I don’t think that they would ever come close to forming any kind of deeper bond. Still, they keep in touch and check on each other every few weeks. As long as Louise sticks to her recovery journey, Ethan makes an effort and allows her to be a part of his life to a small extent he’s comfortable with. Not for long though: I imagine that she’s going to die rather young, soon after E&T’s middle child Letty is born.
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tunglo · 1 year
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TAG GAME
Thanking @barmadumet​ for the tag! (omg I love these pointless tag games, reminds me of Myspace or something...)
What book are you currently reading?
Robert Anderson’s 1910 memoirs, The Lighter Side of My Official Life.
What's your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?
I was just talking about this yesterday - time was I’d roll up at the Multiplex and have already seen every single film showing... Now I take my kid like once a year. The last film we went to was either Encanto or Addams Family 2, whichever one of those is newer.
What do you usually wear?
Oversized t-shirts, rockabilly circle skirts, and my beloved creepers usually.
How tall are you?
5'5"
What's your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?
Leo. I was born the same day as Princess Beatrice, as my nan never fails to comment on each year.
Do you go by your name or a nickname?
My own name, and then whatever my current penname is for fandom.
Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?
I wanted to write children’s stories. Then to be a teacher. In secondary school I thought about maybe working in translation. I ended up in local politics for a decade instead and doing lots of very sensible stuff. Now I make dollhouse miniatures and am writing a book on UFO sightings. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?
Yup, married about five years now. (my partner is very much the romantic date remembering one in our relationship!)
What's something you're good at vs. something you're bad at?
I’m far too good at focusing on the bad, unfortunately. And I’m bad at being organised and sticking with things long term. :(
Dogs or cats?
Dogs. I would like a cat one day though...
If you draw/write, or create in any way, what's your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?
My fave fic is pretty much always whichever one I’ve just finished writing - at least until I start writing the next one! In crafting terms I’m pleased with the (albeit slow...) progress of a few projects:
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What's something you'd like to create content for?
There are so many fandoms I’d like to write for at some point. I always return to tinker with the Superman/Jimmy Olsen longfic I’ve had in drafts for years, but I seriously doubt it’ll ever end up getting posted.
What's something you're currently obsessed with?
I’m deep in a Star Wars fandom phase at the moment. :) Just, Anakin destroying everything he’s ever held dear with his own greed. I love it.
What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?
Tory party collapsing? They keep hanging on for grim death.
What's a hidden talent of yours?
Speed reading. One of the few things I learned at university that stuck.
Are you religious?
No.
What's something you wish to have at this moment?
Tea. It’s getting to the point where I might have to put the kettle on myself...
Open tags to everyone who wants to! <3
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sparklingpax · 1 year
Text
In Relativity
A/n:
-I could not, for the life of me, figure out a better title. You get that. Not even sure if that's what I mean and I'm so sorry. But I am also not taking suggestions
-being absolutely serious, a good 90% of this was written during my health class and/or lunch periods in which I wasn't hungry.
-i am so sorry for typos and grammar stuff I probably fucked up, please please try ignore it if you see it, I'll fix it eventually 😳
-this is so incredibly long, I'm realizing. It's like 30+ pages...sorry--
-a few specific details I'd like to point out:
no, this is not 110% accurate to Masterforce canon, tho I tried my darndest. Part of the reason is lack of clear answers about certain questions I have or limited access to sources that would help me figure out details of their pasts more accurately. The other reason is that I'm also actively choosing not to adhere to some details because I was ultimately writing for fun and experimenting with tone and how I perceive these characters so...do not lecture me about something I screwed up, I am literally just vibing ok
This is still set in Masterforce canon, however. This has nothing (I repeat, nothing) to do with any of the marvel stuff/American comic stuff that involved these characters. It's my understanding that the versions of these characters in Masterforce are their own separate entity to the comic stuff, I am trying to stick only to the anime and stuff connected to that. so....yea
It is my headcanon that I will absolutely keep that the Pretenders have in their files/any technical stuff their "full names" (e.g: "Cloudburst"), but refer to each other with their nicknames (going back to that example, "Phoenix"). It's like, they use both names whenever and don't mind either way. Hence......that.
I wanted to write something about Landmine, literally that was it. I guess overall I'd call it semi-Landmine-centric....Idk but I enjoyed it, he's a cool dude 👀
this is in fact, where i finally reveal myself as a person who also Lowkey ships Lander/Diver and also the idea that they have this...very complicated relationship with each other, which is why they've never really gotten together....I hc that they actually do finally get together at some point during the events of Masterforce (which I also, really want to write). Yes, this is very similar to them in my AU except it's not as complicated as the one in canon. If that makes sense 😳 Also, before you come for my head, it is a healthy relationship in the sense that there has never been any malice between them, and no instances of causing the other serious pain in any way. They like each other a lot, but both don't really know...how to go about it. Idk y'all but ykw I know what I mean. 
I tried so hard with terminology here but my dumb ass doesn't know anything about tech or aircrafts or whatever so...deal with it but don't point it out I'll evaporate--
Upon much consideration, I decided to end it somewhere like, before events of masterforce. I'd say a couple years maybe?? Like 15?? (So tha puts us at 2005, which as I'm writing this omg that's my birth year oop--) So just. assume stuff happened and...following will be the other canon stuff....i guess o//o
So...yea, that should be everything I wanted to mention!
Enjoy (? Or don't? ;w;)....I wrote this for fun & I kinda liked it I guess, so here I am sharing it...lmk what you think if you want, please keep it positive, I get so extremely nervous sharing my writing sdjdsjsdj 😳
...um...so...t-thanks 🥰
That’s what Landmine had been told the first day of Cybertronian Military Academy. 
///
Above all else, a good spark stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right. 
It was a phrase taught and repeated every day without fail, quickly memorized well before the end of first semester in that first year.
And when he’d entered Autobot ranks within mere weeks of his graduation amidst the start of the war, it was a phrase shouted to his unit by their commanding officer, only slightly altered this time. 
“Above all else, a good Autobot stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right.”
Yes, that was it. Just a slight change. 
But he always wondered if it meant to subconsciously induce very particular thoughts.
‘And if we Autobots do good, then the ones who aren’t us must be doing evil.’ 
To name a few of the supposed many, that was the Decepticons, the rogues, and the subspecies of the planet who didn’t feel inclined to participate in such a “selfish conflict,” as one commentator had put it during a newscast. They were the evil ones, preached the drill sergeants and captains.
The logical conclusion, as it could be surmised. No one said anything about moral. 
As for Landmine himself, he had no problem with “standing for justice,” however vague that was. Considering the lack of any attention, it seemed he was in line with that value, not standing out from the rest and all. 
The case was the same with “protecting all life.” After all, that was a clearer command, and obviously, the noble thing to do. Landmine liked his friends, nature, animals. Of course he’d stand to protect them. 
But for the last one, in the in-betweens to his drills and assignments, throughout all the years of his schooling and the time spent in the trenches of battles, he often wondered what it meant. To “do what’s right.” 
What was a…‘good Autobot’ anyway? 
He could recall the answers he’d received. 
“It means you follow orders,” one older bot spat, laughing. He had then put the ratty cigar back in his mouth and turned away. Clearly, the conversation was over. 
“A good Autobot?” Echoed a solemn youth, shining his shotgun. “Well its in the words you’ve just said! A good Autobot stands for justice, and they protect all–” 
…you get the idea.
“There are none,” was all a small-framed purple bot croaked, taking another sip from his oil can. He’d died on the field, screaming in agony, about one week later. 
And there were more answers, and Landmine still couldn’t figure out his own. But there were more pressing matters in his mind. Firstly, the matter of leaving this dull, doomed unit. 
See, he was a bot who enjoyed adventure, thought himself particularly good in battle. He was known for good one-liners, for his looks, and his sharp shots. This wasn’t the place for him. At the risk of being prideful and conceited, he often thought to himself, that this was no place for him to die. 
It was ugly, style-less, depressing, cold, damp…boring. 
For years, he hoped for more, and finally one day, he got it. 
“Hey!” 
“Oh yeah? Well you can take your attitude, and shove it up your tailpipe, Xy.” 
“‘Hey’ yourself, you're not part of this, so butt out you aft–” 
“Aft? Excuse me? I’ve a good mind to report you for that kind of slander and harassment!”
“What?! I didn’t slander you!! I'm not even harassing you, I just insulted you, but--but that's subjective, a-and I didn’t say –”
“Shut up, you two! There’s someone knocking.”
Landmine lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard Klint shout for everyone to quiet down. 
As usual, it was another night in his section base–of the hot-head rookie Cinderflame being aggressive towards “two-word” Xy, and then somehow, getting into an argument with the self-important, self-declared “rulebook” of their subunit, Max. 
But the knocking at their door continued, louder this time. Cinderflame started to protest, and was quickly silenced a quick cuff to the back of his head by Max. 
Landmine closed his book very slowly and sat up in his bunk, watching as Klint quietly got up and headed to the door, activating his gun. Meanwhile, everyone else began to tense up, including Landmine. 
It wasn’t unheard of for mutinies to happen, for somebot to snap and go on a killing rampage, or for the enemy to have infiltrated and quietly taken command of a base. Any number of things could be behind the door, as it wasn’t normal to get a knock on the door at this hour of the night. 
But to their relief, the entity behind the door identified itself. 
“14-E, I order you–open up! Right now!”
Klint lowered his gun and sighed, more an annoyed sigh than a relieved one. They all knew who’s voice that was, and Landmine wanted–and was sure he had–no part in whatever was happening. 
‘Racker,’ mouthed Cinderflame in Xy’s direction, who rolled his optics and went back to organizing bullet shells. 
The other “rulebook” bot, except Racker was official, not self-declared. 
“I’ll mark you all for infractions!” He shouted in an attempt at an assertive tone, pounding unceasingly at the door. 
“I’ll mark you with my fist,” muttered Klint, trudging over. As he did so, Cinderflame snickered, then looked to Max, who was trying his best to keep a serious expression. Even he had no respect for the elected section head, but didn’t want to admit that. 
Well, I’m out, thought Landmine as he fell against his berth and opened his book again, hoping to get back to the story, detaching from the group.
He had no such luck, of course. 
The door opened at last with a high-pitched squeal of old metal, and the section head marched in, shouting for them to stand at attention. Below, Cinderflame gave the beginning of a groan, but it was cut short with the sound of someone elbowing him. 
 See, there was no such procedure in the rulebook, Landmine had discovered a while ago. But, there was also no point in raising that argument now. Begrudgingly, the group all followed the order and lined up at the door. 
Marching in stiffly, the grey-plated bot looked them up and down, a sharp look in his eyes. Then, he stated his business. 
Landmine was wanted in the unit Commander’s quarters.
For a moment, he considered it was some sort of elaborate prank, but that thought was quite fleeting. Jokes of that kind weren’t common around this sector, if at all. 
And if Racker was involved, well…
Doubt he knows what a joke is. 
“Well don’t stand there, move your metal hide!”
“Yes, sir!”
He felt side-eyed gazes of pity on him as he left the line. He felt them follow him as he walked out the door closely behind Racker, and into the barren, darkened clearing. But he was far more curious than worried. He could have easily run ahead to those quarters himself. 
Leaving Racker in the dust was quite easy, anyway. 
Racker, expression solemn and blank as ever, stopped at the white door and jerked his helm in the direction of the entrance, then folded his arms and turned forward, as if Landmine was no longer there. 
Go in. Alright. 
Landmine smirked to himself, then reached over and pushed the door open. 
Well. If I’m court-martialed or something, at least I’ll finally be put out of my misery. 
“Good evening, sir,” Landmine said, striding into the room. “You asked for me?” 
He’d never been in a commander’s quarters, and just taking one look at the state of it, he could infer why.
Something to do with the cleanliness of it, the quality of the tools in it…lower-ranking officers certainly had no place here, he could guess.
We belong in our cramped spaces, eating stale oil in our shared, low-rank misery. 
And finally, his optics had fallen on the commander himself, Swipecatch. 
Come to think of it, Landmine was sure he’d only seen the bot once. Or maybe he had a new paintjob? 
I’d like a new paintjob. 
He saluted and straightened his posture before the silver-blue-plated bot finally looked up from a manila-colored folder with messy scrawling and red stamps. It looked like it was important. 
It also looked like a processor-ache to decipher. 
“I did. You’re Landmine, right?” The commander spoke a medium tone, reaching for another paper on the side of the desk and picking up a slim, red pen.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re a Pretender, are you not?”
"Alright," he murmured, beginning to write something, before glancing back up at the younger bot. “At ease,” he finally added, and Landmine was glad for it.
His gaze was immediately back on the paper as he started to write something into the blank lines. Some more silence followed, broken only by the sound of the pen against the paper, and Landmine watched as he swiftly filled out every blank space, signed his name, then looked back up again. 
“I am told I have such capabilities, sir.” 
“And have you been to training for it?”
“Only at a minimum level, as per my curriculum at the academy, sir.”
“Have you yet attained your third form?”
“I have not been provided any such opportunity up to this point, sir.” 
“Uh-huh…”
Swipecatch nodded, seeming to come to some kind of internal conclusion and writing something in the corner of the paper, before stamping the paper and folding it in half. Landmine began to wonder if he was being disciplined. 
“Soldier, you have been requested to join a special dispatch team made only of three other Pretenders like yourself.” 
Or…this. 
“Now, I can’t imagine you love this place enough to do this, but you do have the option to decline and remain at your post here, as it will be a very dangerous, long-term assignment, far from Cybertron and even this very sector.
“You four will only be provided one ship and instructions to report to us when asked, as we are not able to provide further resources. You will be sent into space to track Decepticon ships anywhere deemed fit to assign your team.”
He eyed Landmine up and down, who stood motionless, staring unwaveringly at his commander as he waited for him to continue. So he did.  
“Your...commander will be a recent academy graduate, Metalhawk. I am not at liberty to share anything more about him than this.” 
He shifted back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table.
“Since I take your…silence…to be an acceptance of this offer…” he said slowly, holding out the folded paper and letting Landmine take it. “I am giving you this now, so that you may board the next transport ship that comes in tomorrow, at first light.”
Landmine unfolded the paper a bit, catching sight of the orders written in fine print above the uneven writing of his commander. 
Previous commander, actually. 
“This is not a promotion, merely a new assignment that my higher-ups feel you are equipped for. There will also be a training period with your peers starting the moment you are all gathered at your launch site. Do you understand?”
“Fully, sir!”
“Alright, then. Dismissed.” 
“Thank you, sir.”
 He vaguely wondered if the sound the commander made after that was a laugh or a scoff. 
 Landmine saluted again, and left the room, clutching the paper in his digits, which had begun to vibrate with excitement. 
Suddenly, all the years of stale oil and bleak death around him, putting up with various groupings that never seemed to work out–with this doomed unit–seemed worth it. They’d been part of some plan, something Landmine had to go through for a while before this, before…
 Destiny. It has finally called my name. 
“Mighty lucky, aren’t you?” Klint remarked, leaning against the wall and watching Landmine stacking a couple books. 
Landmine simply looked up and grinned.
 “Stay alive,” Xy mumbled from his bunk, not even shifting position to look at the team as they gathered in the center of the space. 
 His inspirational capacities truly sway the spark. 
“Thank you, Xy. I’ll do my best.”
The mech raised a thumbs-up, making no further comment. 
“This is favoritism!”
“It is not. It’s the will of our higher command.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s unfair?”
“Shut your trap!” Max made a fist and took a step towards Cinderflame. “Questioning high command could be treason!”
“Oh shove off, you annoying glitch.”
"I beg your pardon?!"
"Yeah, I said it!" 
Klint groaned, facepalming slowly. Xy, in his bunk, put on some headphones and inched closer to the wall.
As usual, not even an hour after wakeup calls, and the two were at it again. But while Landmine conceded he wouldn't miss the unwarranted noise, he knew he would miss being able to laugh internally at their stupidity. 
Cinderflame kicked at the ground and glared at Landmine, who was closing his bag and picking it up. 
“We have to stay in the scrap," he muttered, "but he gets to be special! He gets to–”  
Knocking at the door quieted the room. 
In the brief silence, Landmine wondered how pompous he'd sound telling Cinderflame that he was, in fact, a special bot. 
He decided it wasn't worth the breath.
"It's time to go!" Came the voice from behind the steel.
Landmine stood tall, strapping the bag to his back and heading outside, without a second look to his scrappy unit, who no doubt would forget his existence quite soon. 
“Landmine?” The gruff, unfamiliar mech asked, looking at the Pretender. 
“That’s me.” Landmine then noticed the markings on the sides of his Autobot insignia, certifying him as a higher-ranking officer. “That’s me, sir,” he revised evenly.  
The officer narrowed his yellow-green optics, almost skeptically. Then he spoke again. “We’re driving a while, two hours at longest. You fueled yet?”
Landmine nodded, feeling his excitement start to build. 
Naturally, the place where any transports or supply ships landed would be miles and miles from any camp, for security reasons. Only superior officers would know supply drop-off locations. One could imagine such things were carefully coordinated long before a ship's arrival.
It was then that Landmine recalled he’d never once been on a supply run.
And, he guessed, he'd never find out what it was like. But he was cool with that.
“Right. Let’s move out, then. And stay close to me.”
That won’t be a problem, sir, Landmine thought, excited for the opportunity to spin his wheels. 
He also thought himself quite proficient in the art of speeding in style.
They both transformed, then sped to the entrance of the barracks. The drive took about an hour, quickly clearing miles of dry, uneven land, until at last, coming upon a ridge, the tip of a large, grey mass could be seen.
He could feel the vibrations of anticipation–of excitement!–growing as the mass became more and more like the shape of a transport ship–his ticket out of this forsaken place. 
Briefly, he began to wonder what the new team was like, what the ship and its resources provided would be, where they'd be assigned first…
Will I see my new commander’s face more than once or twice, whoever it is? 
And at last, they rolled down the sandy-brown rocks and onto the clearing, below the massive overhang of the ship. Landmine could hardly contain himself, and transformed as soon as his wheels came to a smooth halt. 
His superior officer also transformed, drawing up next to him, folding his arms again.
"Well. Off you go." 
He offered a brisk pat on the shoulder pad before trudging off to the left and calling out to one of the smaller mechs in the distance. Landmine reached into the bag strapped to him and fished out the paper before marching up the boarding plate. 
Landmine made it through the security check easily, papers identified, baggage approved, and he found the area in the cargo hold where he was to remain for the duration of the ride. 
“You will not leave this area until we have reached the designated location. We will use force if you cause any trouble. Is that understood?” 
“Yes, sir.”
A cargo hold… 
Well…it was a free ship ride during a war.
Landmine waited for the guard to leave, then walked over and sat down against the wall, well within the space he’d been told to occupy. He held his bag close to his chestplates, wondered if a full power-off would be a good idea, or if the ride would be too short for that. 
It seemed they weren’t going to allow him that information, either. 
 Ah, well, they’ll just have to wake me, then. Who knows if I’ll get a moment’s rest where we’re going anyway? 
 And with a quiet whirring, his systems slowed and he leaned his helm against the wall, slipping into a peaceful powerdown. 
It seemed the guard wouldn’t have to come and wake Landmine after all, as the ship came to a halt at its destination with a large thump that shook the ship down to the nails in the wallplates. 
Landmine was instantly ripped from his powerdown, jolted awake as he was thrown forward and then smacked back against the wall again when the vehicle finally halted. Rubbing his helm rather drowsily, he gave a small pout. 
Whoever’s driving should have their piloting license revoked. 
But he immediately recalled where he was and what he was doing, and the excitement returned, grasping his entire body in its hold. Quickly, he grabbed his bag and scrambled to his feet, waiting for someone to come and let him out. 
Be cool, be calm, you’re acting like a giddy sparkling. 
 Right. Steady motions, smooth words. Just as usual. 
And finally, someone did come. Actually, Landmine realized upon listening closer, there were…two sets of footfalls. He wondered if they were maintenance bots, or maybe a pair of workers come to unload the cargo hold, not permit Landmine to leave yet. 
But he remained still, listening to the footsteps, coming closer and closer until–
“He’s in here. You’re…assuming responsibility before he reaches the camp, sir?” 
It was the same guard from before. But then, the other bot with him spoke. 
 “Of course. You know higher-ups don’t give information about assignments, leading to accidents and the like.”
Odd. Was it one of his new teammates? 
He must be higher-ranking than me to have that guard call him “sir.” Or maybe I’m being moved up a few–no, wait. Swipecatch said this isn’t a promotion. But then, why–
Suddenly, the door opened with a weighty hissing noise, and the yellow light from the halls fell upon Landmine, who’d been getting used to the blue shadows of this cargo area. He immediately turned and saluted, watching as the guard walked in first, looked around, then stepped aside. 
In walked a yellow-plated bot, who took one look around, then put a servo on the shoulder pad of the guard. 
“You can go if you like. I gather you’ve more important things to get to, and I know the way off the ship.”
With a small smile and a salute, the guard turned and headed out the door. 
Landmine watched, somewhat amused, as the yellow mech leaned his head out the doorway, calling a thanks to the guard before turning back to Landmine with an awkward kind of smile. 
He actually thanked that guard. How interesting. 
Landmine returned the smile, a little more confidently. 
“Right. Um,” the bot took a deep breath and walked up to Landmine, offering his servo for a handshake. 
“My name is Metalhawk. I will be your new commander. Your other teammates are already aboard the ship.”
 Optics flitting from the outstretched servo to the earnest, blue optics staring back at him, Landmine was beginning to realize something. 
“I understand any previous commanders you’ve served under might have made a point on formalities, but I’m more interested in forming a good team than being addressed as ‘sir’ and the like. So, if you don’t mind, I hope we’ll get to know one another better with time.”
And that realization, was that this had been the right decision indeed, accepting this mission.
To be fair, anything would have been better than staying to fight in the scrapheap of a place he’d previously been.
With that…team of characters to live or die beside.
But Metalhawk seemed to be normal, perhaps even kind.
Plus, if his intuition wasn’t off, most captains, generals, and commanders were on the older side, but this bot…
He must be good to be a commander this young. 
Landmine took his servo and shook it firmly. 
“Glad to be serving with you, Hawk. I’m Landmine.” 
 At the nickname, Metalhawk gave a little grin, seeming to like it. 
 “Alright then, follow me.”
With a friendly chuckle, he headed for the door and immediately started to describe the other two bots Landmine was soon to meet. As they headed down the halls and out of the ship, he quickly learned that an he'd be in the company of two fliers–including his commander–and one sea-faring bot.
An interesting and even balance of alt-modes.
 “...and this is our ship.”
They stopped, and Landmine found himself before a huge mass of shining, silver and white metal. The daylight bounced off it gorgeously, edging the ship in glittery light. The green-blue windows looked as jewels, without a weathering mark or scratch in sight. 
The softer-toned blue highlights on the side plating of the vessel led his eye to the elegantly-painted Autobot symbol on the front hood. 
They might have been given the one ship only, but by Primus, was it a beauty.
Perhaps those old generals weren't all so selfish. 
It could have been some old prison ship with extra canons strapped to it, after all. 
This guy's lucky to be commander and score a ship like this. Something tells me Swipecatch wouldn't know what this is like, and he's been in the game longer.
He almost chuckled aloud before remembering where he was. 
A platform began to lower from the ship’s underside, which hung a little higher than their helms. Standing on it was a familiar face, and Landmine couldn’t help but perk up and exclaim–
“Diver!” 
“Lander!!” 
He felt a warmth surge through him. At last, he was seeing a familiar face again.
Someone he'd really thought, he'd never see again.
“‘Lander’?” Metalhawk echoed, taking a step up to the platform. 
The machinery gave a smooth whirring noise and the platform began to rise off the ground and back into the ship. Landmine could only laugh, letting Waverider answer for him. 
“We were arguing once,” the dark-plated mech said, leaning closer to Landmine. He spoke as if telling a weighty secret. “So I started calling him ‘Lander,’ like for his land-based vehicle mode. He retaliated, calling me ‘Diver.’”
“Because you have a water-based alt.”
“Exactly!”
“‘Diver’ is infinitely more creative, you have to give me that,” Landmine cut in.
“But ‘Lander’ is more direct!” Waverider protested. 
“It’s the most obvious kind of name!”
The three of them shared a laugh. 
That was most of the story, anyway. 
As the three headed down the dimly-lit hallway, Waverider kept talking. He started to tell their commander about their shared academy days, about the classes they took, the things they trained for. 
After a point, he couldn’t quite hear what the mech was talking about, as his mind began to wander.
Landmine recalled in flashes of memory, the moments he'd left out of the story...the days following that ‘argument,’ when they’d made up, and both their ‘insult names’ became somewhat like…pet names.
Calling in the hallways, covertly shifting places during inspections or exercises to stand with one another, sneaking into each other’s dorms, speaking in hushed tones as heat rushed through their systems, as if finally realizing all these feelings which had been for so long already there…
His spark skipped a beat as he gazed at the back of Waverider’s helm.
You never apologized for the way you left.
He tried to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to stir that up. 
But it never matters what the mind wants, the heart will always have its way. Guilt, too. Such a persistent thing, guilt–bent on collection of time spent contemplating the past. 
Sharp like a knife, hidden in shadows of daily happenings, its steely glint appearing every now and then, its blade cutting deep into a wound time has slowly tried to mend. 
Tried to mend. 
But I tried…
Landmine began to wonder again about the truest meaning of “do what’s right” was. If it meant for the other bot or for oneself. If being a “good autobot” carried over into matters of the mind and spark, hidden from the public eye, intimate and…
This is not the time. 
Right. Not the time. 
Rounding the bend, Landmine was surprised to find how quickly they’d made their way to the command center. Considering the direction they’d been going, he guessed it was somewhere near the center of the ship.
Landmine watched as Metalhawk stepped in front of Waverider and reached out to a smooth, blue panel next to the door. 
“In addition to the defaults being set up–which I need to fix–I’m the only one scanned for access right now,” Hawk said with a little smile. The door hissed and started to open. “But by tonight you’ll be scanned to the system as well.”
“And the door will open in seconds, not hours!” 
“Yes, Waverider, it will,” Hawk said, rolling his optics.
Landmine watched as the door finally slid to the side, revealing a polished room with pristine, white floors and walls. Along the sides were blocks of machinery he could only guess was what higher-ups meant when they referred to something as ‘state-of-the-art.’
Except this stuff is state-of-the-art. 
The front of the room had grooves that shaped a large window, wrapping around about half the side walls. Landmine guessed they were retractable for direct visibility during flight. 
We don’t even need the windows open to fly the ship. Magnificent. 
“During your pre-mission training together, you’ll be introduced on a basic level to all the machinery aboard this ship, and I will designate you to certain roles when the need arises.”
Everything sparkled in its modern, symmetrical beauty. It was all new, untouched, and would ideally provide the team with advantages in conflicts to come. At least, far greater than the shabby resources given to camps like the one from which Landmine had just departed. 
Far less could die…
“Yo!” 
Three helms turned as a red-plated mech rose from behind one of the monitor stations near the back of the room. He clapped his servos together to dust them off and stepped out from the station, waving. 
“That was quick,” Metalhawk commented, looking the walls up and down. It was hard to tell what was manually modified and what had been unchanged, but Landmine decided it was best to simply trust that all the devices in the room would preform well when they were needed.
“Well...this is Cloudburst,” he said, gesturing at the mech. 
Cloudburst gave a big grin. 
“He’s just fixed our door problem, and most of the settings on the ship’s machinery,” the commander continued, looking somewhat pleased. 
"He did!!" Waverider called from the open door. He'd immediately run back to test it out.
A mechanic of sorts, Landmine surmised.
And, after a few minutes of talking passed, he found his hypothesis correct. 
Cloudburst had gone to university for a bit, before the war, but it was cut short. He was lucky enough to be selected for a special team of machinery developers, but then, unfortunate to have been placed in a camp that was quickly overpowered by Decepticon forces.
“And I made my escape before my section was done in,” he said. “In the days following, I made my way to…”
As he was talking, Waverider leaned over to Landmine. 
“Phoenix,” he whispered behind a servo.  
Immediately, he caught on, smirking. 
“Flier?” 
He watched with some satisfaction through his peripheral as Waverider nodded. 
“Well, I guess it isn’t that exciting, but…that’s about it from me!” Cloudburst finished with a huff and another smile. “So what about you?” 
Landmine felt put on the spot for a moment, then he shrugged. 
“It’s not much compared to your novel of a tale,” he remarked. The others gave a chuckle. He looked to Metalhawk. 
“But first…any chance we have drinks aboard?”
Landmine was incredibly amused to discover the lack of tolerance to high-grade his commander had. 
Of course, he’d never been drinking with a commander before, but he’d expected himself to get drunk first. 
Or…am I drunk, too? 
Truth be told, he was feeling a bit sleepy…and warm. 
Music played faintly from a speaker near the ceiling. Some song from a couple centuries back, the tune registering itself in subconscious memory. He knew the tune, but didn’t know the song. 
As it was, with many things. 
Yawning, Landmine tilted his helm, which was resting in the palm of his hand, and looked to his holopad. It was laid at the edge of the table, screen open with a striking, blue light.  
The sudden blue glow against the dim, pinkish lighting of the room hurt his optics a bit, so he looked away again. 
 Drunk or sober, I think I’m gonna fall over. 
 “Commander?” He gently poked the yellow mech. Metalhawk had his head down at the flat, white tabletop. 
Landmine guessed he was asleep. He took another sip of his drink, then put it down, giggling. 
Perhaps this’ll rouse him…
 “Hawk! Report status, soldier!” He deepened his voice to resemble the barking of a drill sergeant, tapping the yellow-plated mech as he spoke. 
Metalhawk gave a short jolt. 
“Whaz’t?” He slurred, raising his helm sharply, looking around a bit. He seemed to realize Landmine was talking to him and turned his gaze to him, squinting. 
“Hawk, I was wondering–”
“Comman’er here,” he murmured suddenly, yet still quietly, cutting Landmine off. He gave what looked like the very definition of an ‘improper salute’ as he spoke. 
“Yes, soldier?” He deepened his voice again, smirking. Hawk seemed partially unaware it was Landmine speaking to him, as if he was only half-awake.
“I report…I’m reporting for…my absence reports…I’ll go to class t’morrow, sir!!” 
Oh jeez. He’s so out of it– 
Landmine tightened his jaw, trying not to burst into laughter.
He promptly failed after a couple seconds more, but Metalhawk didn’t seem to really notice. And of course, this just made it funnier.
He watched as Metalhawk shook his head, looking rather drowsily at the empty cup sitting in front of him, then back at Landmine. Was he aware enough to want another drink? 
Perhaps he’d suddenly have some of that energy from a couple hours ago if he had that other drink.
The image of his Commander stumbling around and laughing in a mildly uncharacteristic manner returned to his thoughts. Landmine waited in anticipation as Hawk continued to stare at the cup. 
But then, he gave a long exhale and put his head back down, mumbling something else. 
 Landmine concluded with a small chuckle to himself that, Hawk was probably down for the night–for good this time. 
 “We come bearing–”
“Shush! He’ll know we’re here!!”
“He already does, you nut–” 
 He looked to the door as made a hissing noise and opened to reveal Cloudburst and Waverider, having a mild argument. 
 “Oh, you’re back,” He said, raising his glass with a small grin. Waverider set the crate down. “I definitely didn’t hear you coming down the hall.” 
He watched Waverider snap around and issue a light whack to Cloudburst. It was likely in place of a triumphant ‘I told you so.’  
This time, Landmine didn’t let himself laugh out loud. He did allow a quiet chuckle. 
Cloudburst walked over and grabbed a bottle, popping it open and taking a drink.
“You and the boss’re still around, I see!” 
Landmine nodded, moving to take another sip, but he found his cup empty. 
“I’d stay, but I’m so drunk right now, I can’t stand up straight,” he said, taking another swig. Landmine nodded again, reaching over and sliding a bottle of his own out of its slot. 
“Oh you’re drunk,” Waverider agreed shoving him playfully. 
And so are you, Landmine thought. So am I, probably. 
Pouring the bottle’s contents into his cup, he found his gaze fixating on the liquid as it sparkled mid-air. He liked the small sound it made as it refilled the cup. 
He did not wish to heed how many drinks he’d already had, or was giving himself. 
 “Well then, begone with you,” Waverider said. With a smirk, he suddenly reached over and swiped the open bottle from Cloudburst and took a sip. The mech didn’t seem to mind, just watching him with an amused grin.
“See you, Phoenix,” Landmine said, taking his eyes off his glass for a moment. He set his now-half-empty bottle next to Metalhawk’s sleeping figure. 
That was definitely too many drinks, considering the size of his cup.
  “I’ll be here for a while, I think.”
 Cloudburst nodded acknowledgement and made what Landmine classified as: an improper salute: exhibit B. 
“Then–until the morning shines!” He said, almost a little too loudly. “Cloudburst, signing off my duty–I mean–for my duty! I will bring you–”
“Shut up, you lugnut!” Waverider shoved him out of the room, laughing so hard he lost his footing a bit. The two toppled over, landing outside of the room. 
Landmine just watched, sipping at his cup. The door hissed shut on the sight of the two drunken mechs trying to unentangle themselves and stand up again, amidst their giddy, tipsy laughter. 
“Until the morning shines,” he echoed to himself absentmindedly, shifting his cup from side to side. 
The bubbly feeling he’d been harboring the whole evening was, inevitably and suddenly, starting to fade.
There was something starting to well up inside. Something another couple glasses wouldn’t fix, even though he had as much left in the bottle he’d just taken. 
Something rather cold and dark. 
To think I was among the dying in some forsaken frontlines camp. Now, here I am, drunk, with drunken fools. Look at me, one of them. 
He wasn’t feeling so warm anymore. 
Excitement awaits, or is it crueler death? 
Another sip, and he felt a twinge of unease. Or was it nausea? His fuel tanks remained in slight discomfort, but not enough that he’d be inclined to obey its silent will. 
So, he tilted his helm upwards to finish off the glass. Now he was ready to go.
Landmine rose unsteadily, swaying a bit, gripped the tableside. He felt his fuel tanks lurch with the movement, and took a second to breathe slowly.
He glanced at Hawk, still sleeping in his spot. He wondered when Waverider had planned to come back in, looking to the door. But everything had gone quiet. 
Probably went back to his quarters with Phoenix. 
Ah, well. It was about time he stopped drinking for the night, anyway. With a huff, he hauled himself upright and started towards the door. 
Don’t know where mine is…
He figured he’d just go back to the command center. Perhaps no one would mind if he passed out there. 
Three weeks later, the team was almost through with their pre-mission training requirements, with only days to go before they were certified to move out. 
It hadn’t been easy, but Landmine found himself feeling more confident in the mission to come, and in his Pretender abilities, which had until this point, meant next to nothing to him. 
 It was funny to think how the higher-ups had tried to convince every bot that their only purpose was a soldier, who should hold their gun and shoot–the only exception being if they were elite by caste or class, or simply higher-ranked. 
Day after day of military academy–especially after the war really got started–Landmine knew he was no elite. He was trained in how to use his gun, how to survive without proper resources for periods of time, to be a strategist–with the all the smarts a bot might need but would forget when a blade shoved itself against their throat. 
Yet still, only twice had he ever been spoken to about being a Pretender. About fighting as a Pretender and not as simply another Autobot soldier.
Perhaps it was trivial in the bigger picture–after all, dead is dead. 
 4-edge, 3-edge, length sticks, no not those…
Landmine’s optics flicked to the different boxes lined up in the shelf. Some of them had labels, some of those labels had faded to white. 
He’d gone to fetch some repair supplies for Cloudburst. And as usual, the silence invited the chatter of his own thoughts. 
How many were there like himself, with unacknowledged potential–who would likely die in battle, the intricate stories of their lives forced shut in an anticlimactic conclusion. No adventure, no life lived before their time? 
And how odd, he remarked internally, to still have the fortunate and the unfortunate, in the midst of a war–one being fought namely for the end of the class divide in Cybertronian society. 
Will we accomplish anything when we end this, other than the destruction of cities and lives? Be it violent tyranny and oppression, or the will of corrupt and almighty governmental bodies–who below them would come away with anything other than what has always been? 
Head down, staring at the contents of the open box, Landmine felt a familiar ache, a sinking feeling of dread and despair. 
Our lives lie in the hands of others. If we like it or not, if we wage a war for it or not. How fair is that? 
“Lander! Where are you, buddy? We’re doing another simulation soon, but Hawk wants us in the main hall first!” 
Waverider. 
He looked up, staring at the wall outside the open door. He felt guilty as silence followed, likely for his own lack of response. But he couldn’t say anything back right now. He gripped the box more tightly and started down the hall. 
Memories began to awaken. Things he wanted to remember that made his chest hurt, reminding him why he also…didn’t want to remember. 
I'm just as bad a spark, aren't I?
He wondered…how fair it was to break someone’s heart, and then, act like nothing had happened at all. 
On the day for liftoff–when training was complete and all certifications to move out had been met–Landmine found himself exiting powerdown before daylight had emerged in the sky. He was not a late-riser by any means, but not usually quite so early either. 
He stared at the faint rays of daylight, reaching through his window and lighting the edge of his room walls.
He thought about the vacuum of space ahead. Something like a smile played at the corners of his mouth. 
I’ll remember this for a while, won’t I? 
The mech paced his room a couple times, rolling his shoulder joints and stretching a little. He'd found many benefits to morning exercises.
Optics ticking to an empty glass bottle lying near the window, his mind drifted back to the evening before. 
To the impromptu speech Metalhawk had made last night over some drinks in the bar room. 
The dimly-lit room carried a quiet murmuring, a laugh here and there. Landmine had come a bit late, taking his seat while Waverider waved a hello and handed him a glass. Cloudburst was, of course, talking. 
After a little while, Landmine glanced over the table and saw that Metalhawk had a distant sort of smile on his faceplate. 
He ran a finger against his rounded glass, gently. Then, as if deciding something, he flicked the edge softly. 
The soft cling caught the attention of their group, quieting them. And, without moving his optics from the sight of the rippling liquid in his cup, he’d begun to speak. 
“As we prepare to liftoff tomorrow, I wanted to…say a few things.” 
He looked now, to each one of them. 
“I…cannot guarantee we will make it back to Cybertron, that we will always have what we need, or that we will…survive this. I don’t know if we’ll succeed or fail in our mission, end up as prisoners of war on some Decepticon ship or not, or die as just a handful more nameless, faceless faction of the Autobot army. But, there is one thing of which, I do ask you to be certain.” 
He smiled a smile that no longer seemed distant, but very much real. Present. 
A look shimmered in his optics that Landmine knew well, yet not of his own experience. 
It was a look that belonged only to those who had somehow, not been tainted at their very core–who had somehow learned to love all things as they were, and to always love. 
Someone, he mused the thought, who had perhaps, not yet learned to hate from the pits of his being. Or maybe…
Made a choice, he'd thought.
“I am your commander in name only. More importantly, however, know I am your teammate, and I will not abandon you at any cost. Our destinies are uncertain–I only hope for many good centuries together. Not as mere soldiers of the Autobot faction, but instead as warriors of Cybertron, and of justice. Though imperfect as all beings are, we have, and always will have, a duty to protect life, and to strive to do good. And that mission, above all others, I do believe we can accomplish.”
Landmine gave a shout of approval and raised his glass high in the air. Nodding, the others raised theirs. They gazed back at Metalhawk, who gave a small chuckle, then raised his own glass. 
“For peace!” He offered the toast. Clinking of glass and overlapping shouts followed.
“For Cybertron!!”
“Let’s get ‘em!!”
“YEAA!!!”
Landmine blinked again, realizing he’d begun to stare at that bottle a little too long. 
The memory left him in the silence of his room in the early hours of day. 
Today’s the day. 
He slipped his new blaster to its holster and cast one more look at his room, then headed down to the main room to start course-planning, as a favor for the others on the ship, of course. 
Many years had passed since the Pretenders’ liftoff. Missions had been carried out, ships tracked and ambushed, prisoners transported to warships that arrived quickly after battles. The three weeks of training hadn’t done much to show them what they’d learn firsthand on every mission. 
Many hours were spent behind piles of mission reports and other writeups for record-keeping. No one had been seriously wounded up till this point, just some scratches here and there. 
When it was time to close in on their target, there’d be tense silence in the command room, darkened save for the computer display of what lay outside their ship’s windows. It was the unspoken group decision that pursuing targets would mean windows were closed, for maximum stealth effect in addition to the cloaking technology their ship possessed.
The panel walls were littered with an array of maps and charts (digital or tacked on rather hastily) that either had to do with their ship or the one the team was chasing. All optics and servos were locked to their task, relaying commands and requests between stations, ready for almost anything. 
 And at present, that was kind of the team’s situation…with one slight change. 
 “Phoenix, give me the numbers on our bottom left central thruster. Will it hold?”
 Having tracked their target to a very distant quadrant, the computer didn’t have much information about the area or its conditions. 
 “Ah…we’re at 42% power and dropping. The damage report indicates the shielding was torn off and it’s leaking fuel. The secondary power source cables are damaged as well, so once all the power’s gone, that’s it.” 
“Are the damage control systems online?”
“Negative. We have to go manual,” He pulled up the video feed of their rear camera to show the damage. “We are traveling at full speed in space, so manual repairs are not doable–”
“–without the cost of a life, alright. And if we continue pursuit as we are?” 
“Without repair? The…system says about 20 minutes until it starts sucking power from the other ones, and then we’ll enter float stage, pre-free-fall.”
 So…they were trapped. 
Landmine watched as he ducked his head, dealing a restrained punch to the wall next to him before returning to his command station and furiously typing away at the controls. He cast his eyes back to his own task, repeating to himself that he must stay focused.
“I’m going to try to reroute the power from the damaged thruster to the functional ones and shut off its power. We need to land now, or we’ll be forced to land,” he said quickly, not looking up. 
The tremor in his voice was audible, ambiguously a tone of either urgency or fear. 
 Landmine looked up from his station, where he had been managing their travel course since no one was piloting manually. 
 “Should I analyze the properties of our current sector and any stable landforms?” He offered, already pulling up another screen. 
“Yes, make sure–”
 Suddenly, the vessel jolted downwards and shook with such force that everyone was knocked to their feet. A blaring alarm sounded as the ship shook again, an automated voice announcing in smooth Cybertronian that their back two thrusters were out of power. 
The lights shut off for a second, while the ship swayed unevenly before a loud whirring started up and it moved back up again. 
When it returned to a somewhat stable position, the lights remained flickering, and everyone remained gripping their stations tightly so as to not fall over. 
 Metalhawk straightened and immediately dashed to the front of the ship, smacking a panel on the front computer and grabbing the steering wheel. As he twisted it, he turned back around for a moment. 
 “Lander–something within the current firing range of this ship–we need a landing place now!!”
“We’re abandoning target pursuit?” 
 He felt a small spark of hope as Metalhawk, gave a silent nod in response. He had the feeling most other commanders would have sacrificed themselves and their ship, preaching the nobility of dying for this cause without abandoning the mission.
 “With any luck, one of our last stray shots hit their ship too–which was already on its last leg from the looks of it,” Waverider piped up. “So they won’t be too far ahead, I’ll bet.” 
 “Okay, then,” Landmine switched off his station’s input to the course control and focused his efforts on scanning the nearby planets. “I’ll get something.” 
The ship was vibrating now, but not with its usual even-toned hum. 
It was the kind of uneven vibrating a machine made before it finally gave out and powered down for good.
Meanwhile, all the planets in their current sector weren’t looking too appealing. 
Not many with life or long-term livable conditions…Hm…
“Balance function is starting to–”
As if on cue, the ship began to tilt downwards again, the metallic whirring noise growing louder and louder. A small explosion could be heard before the lights shut off for good and the alarm system abruptly stopped. Everyone was tossed violently to the ground. 
The automated voice struggled to tell the room–
“We lost the third one!!” Cloudburst called over the halting monotone speech from the ship’s speakers. He shook his head picked himself off the ground, then rushed for the door. 
“I’ll shut off the power transfer so it doesn’t fry the rest of the ship and us in it!” The door hissed open and he disappeared down the hall. 
 Then, the sound of…something blowing out, sounded in the room. 
“Oh, sweet fraggin–” Waverider muttered the beginnings of a swear before whipping his gaze to the side to watch as the left half of the ship went completely dark, the computer panels clearly destroyed past functioning point. 
He slammed his station with a balled first. 
“We’re blind on the left side!”
Metalhawk made a noise of frustration and worry, just barely audible above the roaring engine as it struggled to stay active. He was grappling with the somewhat functional manual steering system, trying to keep the ship at a steady angle. 
 “Can we open the–ngh!!” 
He was cut off as the ship as the ship lost control again, throwing him off the wheel and slamming him against the wall and then the floor. As he stumbled to his feet and back to the steering wheel, he gasped as he saw the other side of the ship’s display panels begin to flicker ominously. 
Landmine swallowed, doing his best to quickly surf through all the information presented. 
“We’re almost out of power–we can’t deactivate the panels!”
It was now or never, they needed a place to–
'Sol System Entry 7625 - Life: detected.’ 
Landmine blinked twice at the screen in front of him. He scrolled back to the planet that had read the one positive result among the sea of negative ones. 
It that…?
With a quick tap, the image of a blue orb with wispy, white clouds tracing its edge, floating gently in its place, appeared on his display screen. His optics flicked to the planetary report, intrigued to find that this place had even been previously logged into Autobot travel records. 
‘Atmospheric makeup: Non-toxic. Resource profile: Varied, Non-toxic. Cycle End Date: Undetected. Motion Cycle: Rotation.’ 
He checking one last thing, anticipation building–
Landing conditions: Optimal; follow procedure 41F-52.’
That was it.
“We need to prepare the ship to enter foreign atmosphere!!”
Waverider and Metalhawk snapped their gazes in his direction.
“Yes, I found us a landing spot, you can thank me later. The profiles of the surrounding planets are virtually uninhabitable–this is our only option right now!” 
Waverider exchanged looks with their commander, who gave him a sharp nod. Then, he ran over to Landmine’s screen. After a moment, he chuckled a little. 
When he turned to look at Landmine, a smile had cracked onto his face through the solemn, controlled panic that had been previously. The soft, turquoise light from the only control panels still working in the room bounced off the curves of his face, shimmering off his blue visor. 
 And even though there was such a high chance they’d die in the next few minutes, Landmine found himself frozen, simply staring back.
 No. We can’t die today. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. 
“Hey! Um, a little help here–did we find something?!”
Landmine let out a little laugh and slid back into his seat as Waverider seemed to snap back to seriousness and leaned over to speak for him.
“Hawk, it also checks out as habitable to carbon-based life forms!” He called, gripping the his station as the ship jerked to the side again. “We’ll be fine as long as we land safely!” 
Just then, Cloudburst came rushing into the room. 
“The core engine isn’t looking good, guys! We need to get the ship out of full thrust mode or we’ll overheat, and our power sources will mix and explode!!” 
Oh. Wonderful. 
So, the options had been expanded beyond: 1.) drifting aimlessly, trapped inside a non-functioning ship until energon-depletion or some other cause killed them, or 2.) losing power completely and burning up upon entry to the nearest atmosphere.
Now, they had a third option: sitting and waiting for their ship to simply overheat and explode. 
The reddish mech ran up next to Metalhawk and started pushing buttons on the control panel. 
“Someone needs to prepare the stasis pods and program them to ejection mode, I’ll set an altitude point!” 
“Got it!” Waverider called, jumping up and sprinting out of the room. Landmine started inputting the coordinates of destination to the navigation system–one of the only undamaged things thus far–and deprogramming the space travel controls. 
A couple minutes of silence passed before he flashed a thumb-up in the air.
“We’re ready for atmospheric entry in approximately 40 seconds and counting!” 
“Brace for a drop, everyone!” Metalhawk shouted, planting his feet and gripping the wheel with all the force he could give. 
“Stasis pods are ready to go!” Waverider reentered the room, sliding back into his station.
“Engines to 15%!”
“Roger!”
“Everyone get down!!”
There was a loud noise from the engine, then an abrupt silence as it cut down to about 15% power, and then the ship dipped so far downwards that Landmine felt himself grimace. 
Part of him even wondered if this was really procedure, and that they weren’t all about to die now. 
As if we weren’t before, he scoffed at himself. 
He dug his digits into the side of his seat and shut his optics as the ship began to pick up speed. 
The eerie silence endured for what felt like an eternity before the ship moved again, this time to right itself and return to a normal angle. At least, normal enough that Landmine opened his eyes to look around and see that the others were slowly standing up. 
 Metalhawk let out a shuddering breath and pressed a couple buttons with shaking digits before stepping back and regarding his crew. He’d probably switched the ship back to autopilot, so that they could all–
“Everyone to the stasis pods,” he ordered solemnly, quietly. 
No one else spoke a word, ducking their helms and filing out of the room and into the hall. 
Landmine walked out last. 
He cast one last look at the nearly pitch-black command room, catching sight of the last couple working display panels struggling to function before the door hissed shut behind him. 
He felt a twinge of sadness at the idea that they were saying goodbye to this ship so soon. Admittedly, it had been one nice vessel, with a gorgeous design and plenty of capabilities.
Then, there was the stark realization that once they entered stasis, they might not make it back out alive. 
We can’t die today. We won’t.
Since the ship was barely working, the lighting in the halls was…nonexistent. However, they knew exactly where they were going, and walked quietly in the darkness until they reached their destination. 
With a quiet whirring noise, the door slid open. The darkness was abruptly luminated with a soft, greenish glow, emanating from the center of each stasis pod lying in its place. 
There were six of them, more than enough for every member on this team. 
Landmine had been there to help Cloudburst put in the other three.
He walked in and watched as Metalhawk entered his verification to the panel on the wall, deactivating the locks on each one so they hissed and snapped open simultaneously. The greenish glow faded to a blue, as if softening, to invite them in. 
“Whatever the outcome, remember what I said to you all on our liftoff day,” Metalhawk said as evenly as he could, turning and regarding each mech slowly, kindly. He had that smile on his face again, which seemed to ease the tension in the room. 
“If we make it out alive or if this is the day on which Primus welcomes us home, I am honored to have had such a good team of friends. I am honored to die, not for this cause, but surrounded by you.”
"And we're honored to remain with you in this moment, sir."
"It was an honor indeed."
"Frag yeah."
Their commander nodded, then swiveled to gaze down at the stasis pods.
“Then…until we meet again,” he said, soft enough that he almost wasn't audible.
He then walked to the back of the room and took a step into the pod. Cloudburst followed, taking the one next to him.
Landmine stepped towards his pod, then stopped, frozen in place again. 
It wasn’t quite hesitation or fear, but something was stopping him from going forward. He could feel the quaking beneath him, as the ship was no doubt somewhat falling apart, reaching closer and closer to the ground. 
He heard the doors to the other pods seal themselves shut, administering the stasis lock. 
But something was…
“Hey.” 
He looked to his side and found himself millimeters away from Waverider. His spark skipped a beat. But, he wasn’t afraid. 
He found himself reaching out and gripping Waverider’s servos, firmly, yet gently. He traced his thumb along the palm of his hand, smiling with a deep emotion he couldn’t quite place. 
Waverider’s visor glittered, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. He let his helm fall against Landmine’s.
He spoke so softly, so gently, in his easy-going way that almost made it seem like he didn't even fear death itself. 
“I want to see you again.”
“Me too.”
“Then see me again!” 
“Alright, I will,” Landmine chuckled, letting go of one hand and bringing it up to caress Waverider’s face for a moment. “I won’t leave you again.” 
“Oh, Lander…”
“I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry for the things I said back in Academy, I'm sorry for never contacting you, I’m sorry for–”
“Shh…” 
 The black-plated mech drew away, his hand sliding slowly out of Landmine’s grip. He gave a soft smile and climbed into his pod, still watching him.
Landmine found himself to be shaking, unable to speak as he watched Waverider lean back and close his optics. He didn’t know how to describe this feeling, that seemed to break his facade, to suddenly force him to realize of the gravity of everything happening in this moment. 
The possibility of the unwanted outcome, which no one would mourn, and no one would remember, until long after the war was over. Or perhaps, not even then.  
He watched, motionless, as the glass panel slid over his body, the blue shining off it in wavy lines.
He mouthed something just before the glass fogged over and he could no longer be seen. 
Until we meet again. 
He could still felt the touch on his hand, the weight against his forehead, heard the softly-whispered utterances ringing in the recesses of his mind as he finally forced himself to move. 
Stepping into his own pod, he felt a strange relief wash over him. Perhaps it was closer to sudden resignation, but he wanted to believe it was relief.
A sheet of clear glass moved over his body, another, thicker one sliding over from the side.
It was a very small space, this container. 
He found himself smiling.
Maybe now he could finally say he’d been a good Autobot. 
Had the past been fixed? Had he done anything right or...just? Had he truly strove for the protection of all life, as Hawk had put it? 
Perhaps. Or not. But maybe I did my best. And maybe…that’s good enough. 
And then, the nothingness of stasis wrapped its grip around him, and everything went dark. 
“No, you need a new tie–where’s your sense of style?!” Landmine took a long drink from his glass before shaking his head. “Oh, wait I forgot–you don’t have one.”
“Says the guy in the ugliest jacket I have ever laid eyes on–”
“That's my favorite one, shut up!” 
“You!!”
“You!!!”
But the both of them were laughing.
Though tipsy, they hadn’t thought to call it a night yet, especially not on their drinks. So they remained, sitting near the window of a high-rise, fancy restaurant in the middle Manhattan.
It had so happened, Waverider was in the city for a bit, so Landmine decided to take him to one of his favorite restaurants.
It was times like this he was happy to be not just a human, but one with a very decent salary.
The lights of the city twinkled like a sea of stars tied to the ground, canceling out the vast number of stars that both of them knew hung high in the sky…out in space…
“It’s been too long for you, hasn’t it?” 
 Landmine jolted a bit a he heard Waverider’s voice, gaze snapping back to him and away from the city below. He watched him reach out and pick up his glass, tracing the edge of it with a finger. 
“Me too, Lander,” Waverider said, so quietly it could have been to himself, “Me too.” 
Yes, he agreed, internally, looking back out the window.  
It’d been quite literally ages since they’d been able to resume their missions, flying around the galaxy…they’d been in human bodies for so many years, it almost felt like a distant memory–the war, or that they belonged to a whole other world. 
Considering how long they'd been forced to remain on earth so far–as their superiors felt it best to just station the team on earth rather than provide or allow them a means to come back to Cybertron–he was fairly open to that notion. Perhaps it was better it all remained a vague memory, put behind him for good.
Life on earth wasn't perfect, but it had a lot of its own good moments. In some ways, it was better than Cybertron, he'd concluded.
And despite what he knew many of his kind would think, he didn't feel guilty at all for feeling that way.
He remembered the day their stasis pods reactivated, opening his optics to a bright light floating in a crystal blue sky, and realizing he was unharmed, and still alive. 
The flood of hope like no other, that had caused him to remain motionless for quite a while before he finally left his pod. 
But what had felt like such a distant memory wasn’t just the war itself. 
 “Hey,” he said taking another sip of the sparkling white liquid in his glass. “I’ve missed talking to you like this. Just sitting together...”
He watched Waverider lean back to down the rest of his glass before responding. 
“You said it.”
“We should…get together more often,” he found himself saying. The music playing faintly on the speakers stopped for a moment as he spoke. 
He watched Waverider smile, but felt his heart tighten as it registered what kind of smile it was. This was familiar. Quite familiar. 
Another song started to play overhead. Something about romance. 
“I’d…be open to that,” he said at last, looking out the window. Even amidst the medium-level noise of the restaurant, his sudden silence seemed to shout at Landmine. 
Should I not have...?
Landmine sighed and reached out a hand, letting his fingers rest on his friend’s. 
The warm, semi-dim lighting of the restaurant painted the strangers at the tables behind them in orange shadows. The yellow of the overhead lighting shimmered faintly in the depths of Waverider's soft blue eyes. 
He looked out the window again, too, eyes caught by the sight of a skyscraper flashing a bright yellow light in some practiced sequence. 
He found it wonderful and intriguing that even after all these years watching civilization build itself into the modern day, there were still some things he’d never know about daily life. 
Or it might be a broken light. 
Another memory suddenly greeted him. 
The one where he went to check Waverider’s pod first, instinctively, and moment he realized how afraid he’d been when Waverider finally opened his eyes, the glass sliding away immediately, letting him sit up.
 “We’re up first! How wild is that?” He’d said, dropping down to a kneeling position to be eye-level with him. Waverider blinked once, twice, then chuckled. 
“Pretty wild.” He leaned forward and touched foreheads with Landmine. “So, hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m seeing you again. I told you we’d see each other soon…”
“I know…”
Suddenly, the hand beneath his shifted to grip back, pulling him from his memory and into the present again. The smile that he saw across the table was different again, looking happier than before. 
I just don’t know how to tell you...
 “Can I come to your office tomorrow, then?” 
 Landmine smirked, feeling his own playful nature return in full. 
 “Only if you let me pick out your outfit–and you throw out that awful tie!” 
“By the Primes, Lander–”
“No, I'll even buy the stuff for you. It’ll be my treat,” He insisted, starting to laugh. “The people at my office will kick you out if you walk in with that uncoordinated kind of style!” 
“Oh, then you must have experience in that field,” Waverider joked back, motioning at Landmine’s signature burgundy jacket. 
He had the most smug grin on his face.
“My good sir, I’ll have you know that–” 
But he didn’t finish his sentence.
He’d broken off abruptly, just staring at Waverider for a moment. The clamor of people around them seemed to fade out.
Unsure as to whether it was the wine he'd been drinking or something else entirely, he felt like something was...pulling at him, and he found himself leaning closer and closer until…
Another memory flashed through his mind’s eye. It was of his first experience with a kiss. 
Landmine was sitting in his office, typing away at his laptop. He'd been working at a paper company while he looked for a better job, having set his sights on moving to New York.
He was filling out his application for a position as head of sales at an automotive dealer when he felt a tap on the shoulder.
In the reflection of his computer screen, he could see Waverider's figure before he felt him lean over and rest his head on his shoulder.
"Hey," he murmured, grinning. "Shouldn't you be in a meeting?"
His partner didn't respond, instead leaning over and pressing his lips gently against Landmine's cheek. The blonde froze, obviously startled by the gesture.
Then at last, he cleared his throat, looking up at Waverider, who still had a large smile on his face. He was sure he was flushed, but tried to play it cool.
"And you did that…why?”
“It’s a human custom,” Waverider explained, laughing. “Its called kissing. Saw someone in my office do it with their partner, and I've seen it hundreds of times before that, but didn't know what it was."
"And that is?" He watched Waverider draw back a bit, tapping his chin in thought.
"How do I say...well, it's like...it means affection, or that you care for someone.”
"Alright..." Landmine was still confused, however. “But, I mean...is it platonic or romantic?”
Waverider shrugged. Then, leaned over to kiss Landmine's cheek again.
"That's...up to us, I guess..."
Whatever you wanted it to be, a kiss was. 
Well, he didn't know what this kiss was, but...he knew it felt right. It was better than any word he could speak, or gesture he could make.
And after a moment, he and Waverider leaned back, sat back down, quiet again. But, not an uncomfortable silence. 
He watched his companion smile, start to blush. The dimples in his face showed themselves as he smiled back at him. He ruffled his brownish-blonde hair with one hand, starting to giggle a little. 
Landmine knew it wasn’t going to be long before Waverider would have to return to his job, leaving New York again. They’d be lonely again, even if they called and messaged…
But maybe what they had...didn't need some kind of label, or name. A commitment or a friendship or...something deeper than that...whatever this was.
This still felt alright. As it always had. Something told him Waverider felt that, too. 
He and Waverider had since had many long talks about their academy days. Everything had been laid out, brought up, acknowledged and forgiven.
They had come to understand one another so deeply in all their years since coming to Earth, but especially now, as humans in this current time of peace. 
“No matter what you do, or who you’re with," Waverider murmured, beaming, "I’ll always be here for you. I know I've said that before, but...eh, it's worth saying again.” 
"I know."
"I'm glad!" He laughed again.
He was certainly a little drunk, sure but, he was always like this, Landmine thought.
Waverider had always been a relaxed and fun-loving soul.
“Connected sparks...always find their way back together no matter what, don’t they?” Landmine remarked, flicking a fingertip against his plate.
He felt warm, all the way inside himself, not from the meal or the heater, but...from something else.
Waverider blinked in some surprise for a moment, seeming to take in the words, processing them, before the smile returned to his features.
“Yeah...they really do.”
And, suddenly Landmine took notice of the speaker overhead, as it had started playing something else while they spoke. 
It was a song about humanity–something he and the other Pretenders had learned slowly but surely, was quite relative to what they’d known all their lives.
The truth of existence, which Landmine had found and continued to find with every passing day. 
That it's alright, to be as one is–imperfect, yet persevering.
Bringing what one can to the table of life, giving, speaking, loving and experiencing it all. 
That in that imperfection, life itself was good–contrary of course, to what he’d learned in the Cybertronian Military Academy, which had been wrong about many other things as well. 
Life in many forms, which seeks friendships and connections between others, in its funny, social nature.
Nothing quite in idealistic purity, and often happy in that manner of existing.
That, which altogether, made it truly beautiful to be alive, especially on this Earth.
///
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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year
Note
omg u have to write something about yesterday plz im on my knees and im begging 😭
It’s the ultimate wedding serenade… like Jay will be singing this to his wife at their wedding … there’s no other way … not today though 😈
p.s. trigger warning: towards the end I’m using the R word … twice 🫢🫣
____________________________________________
You were 5 when you saw Park Jaebum for the first time. He played with his friends at the playground, his knees all scraped up but in that moment he was the most fascinating person to you. 2 years later, he kissed your cheek at school. 10 years after that you shared your first real kiss. He became your first boyfriend, but your first love didn't last long.
"I’m going to Korea!" He proudly announced one day. "I'm going to become a singer!"
You were happy for him, although your heart broke into a million pieces when you heard the news.
Trying to forget him was harder than you expected, especially when you saw him perform on tv. Several years had passed but he still occupied a big portion of your thoughts. And heart.
Only one year later he returned to Seattle. At first you weren't aware, but when you found out you looked for him. He was still the same, yet had changed so much. You wanted to be by his side again, but he pushed you away.
"I'm not going anywhere!" You called after him.
When he decided to return to Korea once more, you didn't hesitate. "I'm coming with you!"
He shook his head, told you you wouldn't like it, you'd be incredibly homesick and for a second you thought if that was how he had felt.
"I don't care. I'm not leaving you!"
"Ever?" He questioned.
You nodded.
"Promise."
"I promise!"
Luckily, you adjusted to life in Seoul pretty fast. Jay was busy recording songs and promoting, but he always brought you with him, proudly showing you off.
Luck was on his side and soon he was able to establish his own record label. The further up he climbed the ladder of success, the more you struggled to keep up with him.
Doubts started forming in your head, maybe you were holding him back.
You became Jay's shadow, always by his side but always hidden in the background as well. You didn't want to interfere with his business and never complained when he casted beautiful models to be in his videos. To you Jay Park and Park Jaebum were two different people.
You believed Jay appreciated you for that, but every now and then you questioned yourself if he took you for granted. You had become part of his team, his entourage, his inner circle, but you didn't feel as if you were his girlfriend anymore.
Afraid to approach the subject, you told yourself that he was too busy caring about important things and you shouldn't bother him with such trivial issues.
"Are you okay?" One day he asked you.
"갑자기?"
At that point you had known him for almost 20 years, and had been living with him in Korea for 10 years.
"How about I take the week off and we go somewhere nice?"
"Sounds good!"
While laying cuddled up on a lounge chair, overlooking the sea, you heard Jay sigh deeply.
"What is it?" You mumbled half-asleep.
"I just realized that I never thanked you. For sticking by me."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"The last ten years were crazy, right? But you were always there by my side, walking with me."
"Of course, babe!"
He placed a dainty kiss on your cheek and pulled out his phone.
"I started working on a song last night, when you were sleeping. Here!" He handed you his phone where he wrote down a few lines in his Notes app.
Lost in thought, you read them out loud.
Whether I'm up or down Or I wear no crown Love me the same way the same way U did as yesterday Whether I'm rich or poor Just call me yours Love me the same way the same way U did as yesterday
"Did you write this for me?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, to me it is. Because I've been knowing you all my life."
"Through it all, the ups and downs, you were the one person always sticking by me. I wouldn't be able to be where I am right now without you. I hope you know that! With you by my side I'm not scared to retire because I know you will still love me just as much."
"If not more. But where is this coming from? Retirement?"
"I'm just thinking a lot about the future these days."
"Oh, yeah? What does the future look like?"
"You and I living in a house on the countryside, with a garden and a hairy dog."
"Tell me more."
"We would run around, chasing after our three kids while we ..."
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oopsimbug · 10 months
Note
Fic challenge girl here: just wanted to elaborate. Like, maybe participate in other creators fic challenges or maybe challenge yourself to make a little imagine under a certain word count so that u don’t feel pressured to write a lot? Or maybe repost one of those anon prompt challenges u know?
ahhhh omg im so dumb that makes so much sense!!! like those account celebration fic challenges!!! yes ahh i should totally write for some!!!
also are you literally in my brain because YOU PSYCHOANALYSED ME TO A T!! i am always hard on myself to write really long fics, and am always looking at the word count!! but yes- maybe i should just try to at least post something!!!
and yes omg!! i always see prompt challenges and think about what i would do so yes totally i just need to put it out there!!!
thank you so much for your advice anon- you really helped me out there!! i really hope you stick along for the ride on my blog!! <3333
xoxo
- bug
0 notes
mosstliest · 3 years
Text
fallen stars always plague the cold
requested?  yes  /   no
r e q u e s t :
Omg hi!!! Ur writing is literally *chefs kiss*
ne ways I'd love to request a c!techno x reader with the frostbitten lips kissing cuz like yk they live in the frozen tundra and im a simp also I'd love to be 🩰 anon if ur opening an anon list!!!
- 🩰 anon
prompt! - 27, kiss with frostbitten lips
pronouns used: they / them
c!technoblade x reader
fluff, angst? (past partners to rivals to lovers speedrun)
cw! mentions of frostbit . swearing  . eye talk bc I’m a sucker for eyes . mentions of past war
1318 words
Tumblr media
Coming from L’manberg, where the most drastic climate event were the ever appropriate thunderstorms, it’s safe to say you did not take kindly to the everlasting cold of Snowchester and it’s freezing surroundings. Life in the arctic biome had quickly proven to be unsympathetic, but you’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.
It was on a particularly hostile evening that you found yourself walking alongside none other than Technoblade.
He’d found you in the rather compromising position of almost being killed by an enderman while trying to obtain the means to pearl atop the mountain and offered to walk you home under the argument of “I can’t be associated with someone who died in such an embarrassing way”.
You’d met him before --reluctantly considering him an acquaintance when he first allied with Pogtopia and slowly, between training sessions and long hours of potato farming, you had dared to call him a friend, after weeks of preparing for war, perhaps something more.  neither of you ever risked suggesting a title, but you’d proudly worn his enchanted armor to combat and stood beside him as the tyranny of Schlatt ended on an underwhelming note, the taste of victory still weaved with the bitterness of betrayal as you ended up battling his withers. You’d learnt your lesson and were not willing to forget it.
The two of you had been walking for a good thirty minutes and the silhouette of your cottage was still nowhere to be seen, a month had passed since you relocated to the vicinal hills of Snowchester and you still hadn’t learnt that the customary fur lined attire was never enough to keep you warm but instead of walking faster or rubbing your arms to scare off the cold, you decided to provoke the pigman. No better antidote for frostbite than a bit of entertainment, right?
“So, still on the business of betraying your friends Techno?”
The attractive clean-cut features of the pigman and his eternally stern expression never ceased to stun you, he glanced back at you with snowflakes sticking to his braided hair and no trace of a reaction in his face.
“Still letting everyone push you around y/n?”
Monotone, cold. Maybe the arctic had been the place for him all along
You could have quipped back, but there were so many things left unsaid between you, and there was still a long way to go
“I don’t let anyone push me around, I never have”
“aha”
Hot fury started rising up your throat, he was so unbothered by everything it was exasperating
“We trusted you, Tommy and Tubbo and Wil… we needed you Techno, I needed you! You were my friend and you betrayed me-”
The word friend felt foreign when spoken to him, but this was no time for introspection
“And you still haven’t learnt a thing! Be it Tubbo or Schlatt or even Wilbur, they’re the problem! The gov-”
You flinched at the mention of your dead friend and interrupted the man
“It never had anything to do with the fucking government Techno! We trusted you and you didn’t give a shit”
You blinked away angry tears and turned to face him, the frozen trail forgotten as you both laid raw statements on a creaking table built of long buried feelings
“Y’know, I always considered you the smartest of the bunch, guess you’ve proven me wrong”
“You are the one who hasn’t learnt! I’ve grown Techno, I have changed. You left our country a burning mess and you ran for the fucking hills! You never cared, you never...”
He opened his mouth to answer and closed it as you drifted off mid sentence
“That’s what you think? That I abandoned you because I didn’t care? They called me a war criminal! I’m a damn public enemy now y/n”
Furious tears ran down your cheeks leaving a frozen trail of bitterness
“I had no choice and I- well I wasn’t going to drag you with me! but I cared, I still do I think… about you at least”
A wolf howling in the distance was the only sound breaking the stillness
“You look cold, let’s… let’s just get you home”
“I am not cold, I-”
A particularly inhospitable breeze cut you off and Technoblade couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at how you wrapped your arms around your midsection in a futile attempt to battle the snow, the usual threatening demeanor that had always intrigued the anarchist shattered and the softness underneath it nothing short of endearing. He could have stared at you forever, delicate and fragile under the northern sky, but your lips were turning blue and Technoblade wasn’t about to let all the effort of finishing off the enderman and walking up a mountain for god knows how long go to waste. Without uttering a word, he slipped off his red cape and draped it around your shoulders.
The red material was worn and soft and you let out a sigh of relief as the cloak started warming your body.
“Thanks”
Your voice came out a resigned whisper and if it weren’t for the eternal silence of the landscape around you, Techno wouldn't have been able to hear it.
You hadn’t been looking for closure, you had wanted to provoke him, fishing for a reaction, a quip or an insult. In some twisted way, you had missed him.
Everything stayed quiet for a second. his normally virtuous hand still stuck in mid air, barely missing a grasp on the fur lining his cloak. You’d never paid much thought to The Blade’s height, but now, as he towered over you, close enough that you could hear him breathe, you wished you’d taken Eret up on that platform boots shopping trip invitation years ago.
Technoblade was much less preoccupied with your height difference and more concerned with the fact that you were possibly the most enchanting person he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if he’d noticed before --while you rotted away together on the dimly lit cavern they had insisted on calling a nation--, how your eyes were prettier than the moon; brighter and fuller and bewitching in every sense of the word.
He wondered if a million multicolored polar lights would ever be as hypnotic as the coat of frozen dew that laced your eyelashes and made them shine like stars under the rays of the dusk. In a reckless motion, Technoblade reached his hand and wiped a stray shortleaf that had landed on your cheekbone, he watched in awe as you leaned against his touch.
Neither of you spoke, neither moved an inch, too scared of shattering the fragile tension outstretched between you.
Later, when trying to recall this moment, neither of you could decide on who leaned in first, but when your frostbitten lips met for the first time the world seemed to blur, or, perhaps, you finally started to see clearly.
Techno’s right hand cradled your cheek and his left traveled shy and trembling to your neck, carefully deepening the kiss. you melted onto his embrace with a small gasp, both hands pressed firmly against his chest treasuring the feeling of his beating heart against your skin.
His lips were ice and tasted like the night and his mouth was burning hot and desperate and his breath was shaky and the snow was falling heavier than before but it was fine, any trace of cold had long banished and the rhythmic melody of synchronized heartbeats melted the snow before it reached the ground.
You kissed for what could have been hours of long minutes or short fused seconds with no one but the stars and the moon and the ice as witnesses.
When you opened your eyes and looked up at Techno, his cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and he was blinking fast, all pink shadows and golden angles against the white. Lean and powerful as he’d always been and suddenly; forgiving him appeared to be a rather tempting option.
ANIME TECHNO GO BRRR
I feel like this came off a bit rushed but I really loved this request and wanted to finish it up as quick as posible.
Masterlist should be up soon and I am opening an anon list if you're interested :^)
have a lovely morning/day/evening/night <3
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allthingsarmin · 3 years
Note
fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3
I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩
If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.
MINORS DNI!
Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader
TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.
ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”
ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.
ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~
__________________________
Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3
204 notes · View notes
kazuhasbunny · 3 years
Note
okay to the people posting about chongyuns yang energy going f king insane and just ajxnsxjjs ya. This is such a big head canon to me like I totally think that after a while he would get comfortable with you and you’d have seen him act up a few times but it never happened when he was horny so : allow me ;
Your body dripped slightly as the water finished cascading over you. You and Chongyun had rented a room that day since you two were in the middle of travel and started to get tired of sleeping in tents.
As you step out you can hear Chongyun pacing in an annoyed manner around your room so you simply wrap your towel around yourself and step out a moment “Yunnie? Do you need something cool to eat?” Little did you know your sultry voice and the sight of you in just a towel, body dripping wet all for him was all he needed to send him flying. His jaw dropped momentarily at the sight of you. “Yunnie”. You call to him again giggling a bit as he stares at your body, he makes his way over to you and presses into you “y/n... I don’t know how much longer I can hold back it all... I’m already struggling..” he grits his teeth almost as if physically grating against his energy. “Then don’t hold back... if this is what you need then-“
“Don’t hold back?” He whispers in your ear “Well you’re in for a *long* night then”
Without warning he casts you over his shoulder making the towel fall and brings you
Over to the bed, biting his lip as he sees you splayed out for him. He can’t help but immediately start touching you and as the temperature rises the crazier he gets, you’re already a mess underneath him. The way he’s being has you so turned on as his tongue drags over your sensitive nipples and his hand darts down to your slit. He loves the noises this elicits out of you and suddenly whispers in a deepend voice “I need to mark you.. you’re mine” his words were spoken with an uneven and husky tone as he leaned into your neck and began to leave hickies and marks that progressively got darker and deeper the more excited he became. You too, were now becoming eager as well as your hand travelled down to his pants attempting to pull them down. He grabs your wrist “Such an eager little slut for me.. does it feel that good baby~” he whispers against your ear causing you to let out quite the moan in response. “Hm? I can’t hear you. How good does it feel..” he suddenly slides a finger inside you making you whine and moan. His suddenness causing you to pant “Y-yes Yunnie it feels so good”. You could feel him get hotter against you as his shirt came flying off and his bare chest was revealed. Something about this was different , so feral and passionate. “Good girl..~” He slips another finger inside and with his other hand slides his pants and briefs down as well, his cock standing at full and leaking from how excited you had him. As he watches your body shiver while you reach closer he pulls his fingers out causing you to whine “Be a good girl for me and take my cock hm..?” You nod, so eager at this point just to reach release. He thrusts inside you , not wasting a second as a glazed look comes over his eyes. A fervour need to just pump you full comes over him as he picks up your hips slightly off the bed, causing you to arch your back and begins thrusting inside you. You were so tight and ready for him and as soon as he started thrusting you turned to a moaning mess, he huffed and growled as he bucked into you and a pace that rapidly got faster. He was seeing red, he was getting so hot he couldn’t stop. “Who owns you” he chuffs into your ear “Y-you”. Your words exit all jumbled and stuttered with moans always following them as he fucks into you “Hmm.. that’s right. I own you and no one else” his hand snakes softly around your neck, gently squeezing but not enough to hurt you, it was clear even as feral as he was being he doing his best not to hurt you. That said you certainly didn’t mind the spanking and when he would occassionally call you dirty names. “Good little.. slut” he grunted out as he started to throb inside of you taking him so well “Nh.. F-fuck Chongyun i - I’m gonna cum..” you practically beg to him however instead of depriving you of your orgasm he begins bucking into you hard and deep. Holding your hips as his fingers dig into them , that was definitely gonna leave bruises. His hand came down from brushing over your lips and starts rubbing your clit with fervour. Making you moan loud as your legs start to shake
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” He huffs out , obviously finding it a bit difficult to speak as he too begins to reach his orgasm. You can’t even think straight now, your tongue sticking out half way and simply just moaning your little heart out as suddenly you see starts and your hand reaches to grab his arm for support as the knot in your stomach comes undone and you tighten up around him and let out a trail of sultry sounds. He groans as his hips continue to thrust as deep as possible inside you to help ride out your high until the combination of the heightend pleasure and he’s yang energy become too much and he slams into you, filling you up as he groans and moans and cums inside you. As you both come down from your high he seems to relax a bit and his yang energy seems to wear off slightly as he falls into you while you catch your breath. “T-thank you, I hope it was good...” he stutters out . “I really... liked that honestly yunnie..” he stares up at you and smiles softly “I’m glad” he twists a tendril of your hair into his fingers gently as he sits up “You we’re so good even though I was so rough, I hope I didn’t hurt you. ” you giggle softly as he tilts your chin, still inside you and plants a soft kiss on your lips, you both slightly groan as you grind against each other causing you to hum and he chuckles. “Round two?” You tease him however he leans down to your ear “it’s gonna be a long night for you, my love~”
(OMG I DIDNT KNOW I WAS CAPABLE OF THIS slndwkdnwkdnisd akdnkad also I had to cut it now cause ask limit but I hope you liked this . I turned m notifications on for you cause ily your stuff and your asks. Pls enjoy this thirst)
i .... omg ..... your writing is so good hnwwnwmh?.?.,,, heheyy *bites lip* yhis is..nemwb ,,, horn....... kn .. ee.......................... chongyun nbmhmjmmmmm......
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spenciegoob · 3 years
Text
Who Needs Luck?
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A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)
Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff!
Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.4K
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I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.
But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.
The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.
I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.
“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”
I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.
“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”
“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.
“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.
At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.
“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.
While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”
She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.
“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?
“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.
“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.
“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-
Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”
“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!
“Roadtrip!”
That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.
“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.
That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.
“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”
“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.
“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.
“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.
“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.
“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.
“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”
***
“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.
“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”
To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.
“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”
We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.
“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.
The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.
“You said you took this train when you were little?”
“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”
“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.
***
“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”
She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.
“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.
“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.
“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.
“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.
“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.
“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.
“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.
“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”
“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”
“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.
***
“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”
I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.
“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.
“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.
***
Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty. 
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.
“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”
___
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aliyahsomerhalder · 3 years
Note
Hello ☺️. Can you write a Kate Schmidt x reader where the reader saves Kate and they kiss thanks❤️
i love you | k.s
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a/n: ok sorry it took so long i have had zero motivation to right again, but i had to find a way to make this angsty so have fun reading this
summary: in which the reader loves kate more than a friend, but it’s too late
warnings: me turning fluff into angst, death, crying, poor writing, not proofread
pairing: kate schmidt x gn!reader
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‘all i have to do it stick to the plan and everything will be alright’ you repeated in your head for the millionth time that night. you have some how let your best friend, kate convince help a girl named sam. you had been friends with deena, simon, and kate your whole life but you had never met sam before and now you might die for her. to say it stresses you out would be an understatement.
you were currently standing in the middle of an isle trying to get your nerves in check, you had no clue how to handle this situation, which was very unlike you. you were about to continue down the isle when you smacked into a body “shit!” you cursed out, you look up to see kate smiling at you, “hey, you ok?” kate says straightening your crumpled up shirt, you were always like this around her. you always got flustered around her, you cared so much about her. more than any of your other friends.
“oh, uh, i’m just wandering.. i don’t know, you?” i say fumbling with my hands. she grabs my hands and places them in hers, “god, i really didn’t want to have spend my night like this.” she says with a light chuckle, i roll my eyes. “trust me, neither did i. right now we’d be cuddling on the couch and watching new episodes of friends.” i say looking down, at our intertwined fingers, reality finally setting in. “hey, don’t worry. you’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.” shes says pulling you in for a hug, “alright, we have to go out separate ways now.” she say pulling away for the hug and walking away. i sigh continuing down the isle.
i had walked through isles five through eight and no sign of ruby, skullmask, or nightwing. ‘at this point i might go home and watch the reruns of the friends episodes i missed’ i think to myself with an eye roll. i was halfway through isle nine, i heard- the sound of struggling. i followed the sound quickly and quietly, but not before grabbing a frying pan. i followed the sounds until i was lead into the bread section. “kate?!” i tell out before my brain could register what is as seeing. kate was trying to fight off skullmask, but was no where close.
“y/n!? you can’t be here, you have to go now!” kate screams letting her guard down giving skullmask the upper hand. i panicked, not really knowing what i should do until i remember i had a frying pan. i snuck up behind skull mask as quickly as possibly and hit him as hard as i could, knocking him out. “are you okay? omg, i’m sorry i didn’t get here earlier-” i start to rant but i was cut off by the feeling of lips against mine, kate was kissing me. oh my goodness. i pull away reluctantly so i could get air. “that was-” i start to say until i saw the look on her face, “y/n! look out!” kate says panicked, i turn around to see skull mask was up an furious. i felt a shooting pain fill my body.
“run! kate go!” i shout rushing her away, she hesitantly turned and ran towards deena and sam. i grabbed a cupcake pan and used it to dodge his attempts to stab me again, during the commotion i nudge the bread slicer on. i tried to get away from him knowing i was too weak for me to fight him any longer. i stumbled over the frying pan that i had dropped, ‘damn it! i knew i shouldn’t have grabbed that pan.’ i think to myself catching myself before i fell. skull mask took that opportunity to grab me and throw me onto the bread slicer platform. “no! don’t do this, please don’t!” i cried out, trying to fight him off of me. tears streamed down my face, i knew this was it for me.
instead of feeling scared like i thought i’d be, i was at peace. i had finally got the girl, and that’s all i needed to be happy. and i was. because i love kate schmidt and she loves me.
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fangirlovestuff · 3 years
Note
Okay! I had this idea brewing in my mind (but that’s the most my mind is capable of I’ll leave the writing to the professionals). So Carly or Shana (you can decide) are planning on going away for a vacation with their partner but they’re sceptical of leaving the children alone. So they ask Chris if him and reader (who is Chris’ girlfriend and super close to his family) to babysit the kids over the weekend and they accept. Since Chris is busy with ASP reader mostly entertains the kids, helps them with homework and stuff and Chris sees the way she is with them and imagines their future! Please make it fluffy 🥺❤️❤️
A Tale Of Nephews And Princesses - Chris Evans x reader
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a/n - @tonystankschild surprise! i got my ask back somehow so i can properly post this!! thank you so much for this lovely ask, I had so much fun writing it! I chose Carly pretty randomly. her children’s names are online, so that was mostly why lol. in my head i imagined it so Miles is the firstborn, then Stella then Ethan but it doesn’t really matter. they’re all pretty small in the fic so like, the oldest is 10 years old? idk, i didn’t really wana do research because i wanted to respect their privacy lol, so i took creative liberty over most of it. also you calling me a professional?🥺 pls omg i am so far from it but tysm!! I hope you enjoy it!!<3
Word Count: 3k (!!! y’all are getting fed hehe)
Warnings: none! just fluffy fluff :)
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"Hey babe?" Chris asked, coming into the living room. His hand was on the telephone, so whoever's on the other side was still on the call.
"Yeah?" you replied from your place on the couch.
"Is it okay if Carly's kids come sleep at ours next weekend? It's Carly's anniversary so they wanna go on a weekend away."
"Yeah, sure," you smiled, "watching them is gonna be no problem. Tell her I said congrats!"
"I will," he smiled. "And well, I have some stuff for A Starting Point I gotta do that weekend. I told you about the interview and –"
"It's okay, I don't mind watching them," you smiled and cut him off. "I'll have someone to keep ne company while you're busy."
"You're the best," he blew you a kiss and you smiled as he got back on the phone with his sister.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're sure it's okay?" Carly asked, ushering her kids through the door of your and Chris' house.
"Yes, we're sure," you smiled at her. "It's no problem at all."
"Besides, even if we weren't, I don't think you'd have any other options right now," Chris smiled at his sister as well. "Go, have fun, we'll all be here when you come back. If anything, you should worry about them not wanting to leave," he smirked.
"Sure," she drawled out with a smile. "Well, if you need anything at all just call me," she told the both of you.
"It's gonna be fine," you laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "I could understand why you'd be worried if you left them with this five-year-old," you nudged Chris with your elbow and he rolled his eyes, "but I'm here and I assure you we're gonna have a lot of fun, isn't that right kids?" you smiled at Chris' nephews and niece, who were still standing there with their bags, waiting to say goodbye to their mom.
"Alright," she laughed. "Well, have fun kids! Bye!" she hugged each one of them and went back to her car, where her husband was waiting to go on a weekend away. It was their anniversary, so you and Chris volunteered to watch Miles, Stella and Ethan while they were away for a couple of days.
Before you managed to say anything, you and Chris were bombarded with questions – "Uncle Chris, can we play Mario Kart?" "No! Can we have a princess tea party?" "Can you read me a story?" "Can we eat cookies?" "Where's Dodger?" "Can we play with the cap shield?"
Chris looked at you and you return his amused look with one of your own. "Okay," you said, effectively silencing them as they looked up at you with wide eyes. "We can do all of these things later, but for now we should put your bags up. Dodger's hiding, so maybe after we find him, we can play with him, alright? But bags first," you smiled at them as they immediately sprinted upstairs with their bags, as best as they could carry them.
"Be careful!" you yelled after them and laughed.
"Is Dodger hiding?" Chris frowned at you.
"Of course not. I got him out in the yard before they arrived so he wouldn't tackle them to the ground," you grinned.
"What would I do without you?" he smiled, wrapping his arms around you.
"My guess? Have more sweaters," you chuckled. "But hey, that's why I'm here!" you showed off the sweater you were currently wearing, which was indeed his, making him laugh.
"C'mon, let's go make sure they're not breaking anything," you pecked his lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris was the first one to go outside and play with them and Dodger, while you hung back for a while, cutting up some fruit and getting some juice boxes before stepping outside as well.
"You guys hungry?" you smiled at them when you got out, Dodger immediately running to you and the kids right behind him.
"Yes!" they yelled in unison as you put the plate down on the table before sitting down next to them and Chris.
"Oh, by the way it's 4:15, so you should probably go get ready," you told him. He had an interview for ASP in about 20 minutes, and as much as you'd love for him to stay outside with you, you knew he had to go back inside to his home office.
"Thanks honey," he smiled softly before patting Miles' head and scratching Dodger's ear. "Alright kids, be good while I'm working," he winked at them before disappearing inside.
"Princess auntie?" Stella asked once she finished eating. Your heart melted in your chest at the sound of it, not the princess part of course, since Stella was currently obsessed with Disney and had the habit of calling everyone princes and princesses. No, it was the auntie that tugged at your heartstrings.
You weren't officially a part of the Evans family, well, not yet, you hoped. But their tendency to embrace you as one of their own never failed to make you smile, because there's nothing you'd want to be more.
"Yes, princess Stella?" you smiled at her.
"Can we have a tea party now?"
You chuckled at her request. "Well, I think there's nothing better for a tea party than…" you paused for suspense, "cookies!" at the sound of that all three of them cheered and you laughed. "But you all have to come and help me make them!"
The happy bunch followed you to the kitchen and you let Dodger into the living room on your way so he could rest a little.
"Okay, first of all we all need to wash our hands," you instructed. After a few minutes and some stray drops of water later, you were ready to go.
"Okay, Miles, you can help me measure everything, and Stella can pour it in, and Ethan's gonna stir, sounds good?"
Surprisingly, the kids went with your suggestion without any argument, and you started making the batter.
"Ethan, mix slower, will you?" you contained your laughter once a bit of batter flew out of the bowl and onto Miles' face. "Are you okay Miles?"
You turned to the kid in question to wipe the batter from his face, but you found he already took it on his finger and tasted it. "It's really good," he nodded, and you and you couldn't contain your giggle now.
"I'm glad, but let's try not to eat the cookies until they're ready," you raised your eyebrows at him and he nodded in understanding, although a grin was still on his face so you weren't sure how much he was going to stick to that.
The rest went pretty smoothly, and just as you were dividing your batter and putting the cookies in the baking pan Chris walked in, having just finished his interview.
"Ooooo, what are you guys making?" he smiled.
"Cookies!" Ethan yelled.
"For the tea party!" Stella added.
"But I don't wike tea parties," Miles sulked.
"You don’t have to be in the tea party to eat the cookies," you calmed him down before they'd start fighting.
"Now come on, let's finish up these cookies and then we can go play."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You spent the rest of the afternoon playing board games, the smell of the cookies filling the air as the kids got more and more impatient to have them. Eventually, it was time to take them out, and you tried to slip away unnoticed but unfortunately they noticed and followed you to the kitchen.
"I'm taking out the cookies, but just remember they're very hot and we can't eat them yet, okay?"
You heard a chorus of okays before you opened the oven, the pleasant smell and warmth coming at you in a wave. You grinned and took the cookies out of the oven, warning the kids to stay away from it while you put them on the counter and went to shut off the oven.
After a few minutes you touched the cookies tentatively, and found they were cool enough to give to the kids to taste. They all took a bite and immediately smiled.
"Well? Did we succeed?" you asked with a smile, taking a cookie yourself.
"Yeah!" they all nodded, and ran to the living room, where Chris was still sitting. "Uncle Chris, you have to taste our cookies!" you heard Stella say and smiled, knowing they'd all walk in here in a couple of seconds.
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You all ate dinner together, cookies for dessert obviously, and before long it was bedtime. Chris needed to get some more work done, so you were the one to put them to bed. The boys were sleeping in the same room and Stella in another one, but all four of you were currently snuggled together in the boys' room, as you read them all a story.
Stella was on one side of you, her eyelids slightly drooping already. Miles and Ethan were on the other side, and you were half sure Ethan was already asleep. Dodger was at the foot of the bed, seemingly listening as well. You were just reading the last page when Chris walked in, a grin stretching on his face at the sight in front of him.
You smiled back and softly finished the rest of the story, closing the book and putting it down on the bedside table. Carefully getting up, you kissed Miles and Ethan's foreheads goodnight before taking a sleepy Stella into your arms, smiling at Chris on your way out of the room as you carried her to her bed, laying her down and tucking her blanket around her.
"Goodnight princess auntie," she mumbled.
"Goodnight princess Stella," you whispered back and smiled, gently tucking her hair away from her face before getting up. Seeing Chris waiting for you at the doorway, you put your finger to your mouth signaling him to be quiet until you softly shut the door nearly all the way behind you, leaving a small crack so it wouldn't be completely dark and so you could hear her if she needed anything.
"Did you get your work done?" you whispered as you wrapped your arms around Chris' neck.
"Yeah," he whispered back. "You're really good with them, you know that?" he smiled, affection dancing in his eyes.
"They're great kids," you smiled back, pecking his lips softly before drawing away. "C'mon, let's go to bed."
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The next morning you awoke to the sound of whispers and padding of feet coming from the hallway. You smiled to yourself before getting away from Chris, whose arms were wrapped tightly around your torso. He stirred when you sat up, mumbling a low "Where are you going?"
"They're awake, but try and get some more sleep, you have a long day today," you whispered back, kissing his cheek before getting out of bed and out of the room, shutting the door behind you.
When they noticed you got up they stopped talking and you smiled at them. "C'mon, let's go downstairs so we won't wake uncle Chris," you whispered.
When you were down you asked them in a low voice, "did you brush your teeth? What do you want for breakfast?"
After they all brushed their teeth, and so did you, you all gathered in the kitchen to make breakfast. You made them some chocolate milk and they drank it while you made something to eat, laying it out of the table and sitting down to eat with them, but not before you put some food aside for Chris.
"What do you wanna do today, huh?" you asked, taking a sip from your mug.
"I have homework," Miles admitted shyly. "Mommy said I was supposed to do them yesterday, but I forgot."
"That's alright, you can do them right now," you ruffled his hair affectionately.
After you were done with breakfast, Miles sat down to do his homework and Stella and Ethan helped you with the dishes. Well, they just handed you the dishes, which you then washed and put in their place, but it kept them occupied long enough.
You were nearly done with the dishes when you felt a tug on the hem of your shirt. "Can you help me?" Miles looked up at you.
"Of course," you smiled. "Stella and Ethan, wait a sec alright? And be careful!"
You walked back to the kitchen table with him, where he showed you the exercise he was struggling with. Just as you were helping him solve it, Chris walked into the kitchen. Thankfully, fully dressed in his everyday clothes, you eye rolled inwardly at your boyfriend's sleeping garments, or lack thereof.
"Hey guys! Did you have breakfast already?" he asked, going to hug Stella and Ethan.
"I left you some," you gestured at the plate on the counter with a smile.
"Thank you," he picked it up and started eating. "What'cha doing there bud?" he asked Miles.
"My homework," he said with a shy grin. "But I'm almost done!"
"Yeah," you smiled. You explained it for him, all the while ignoring Chris' eyes on you. You felt his gaze and smiled, not giving it any attention and helping Miles solve the problem.
"All done!" you high fived him and he cheered.
"Good job!" Chris smiled at the both of you. "I have to do some work, but after I'm done we can go play some more with Dodge, how about that?"
"Yay!" they cheered. He hugged them all and retreated into his office once more. You knew how much he hated not being able to be with them all day while they're here, but he cared about this project a lot, so you were going to make sure everyone had a great time regardless.
"Okay, how about…" you paused to think, "we build a blanket fort! As a surprise for uncle Chris," you smiled at their excited reaction. "But shhh! We have to be very quiet so he won't hear us, because it's a surprise!" knowing Chris needed his focus, you were glad when they nodded their heads. Ethan out a finger to his lips and shushed his siblings, which you giggled at.
"After you," you gestured for them to start walking towards the living room. "The blanket fort isn't going to build itself!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were quiet, whispering to each other as you draped the blankets you had brought from their bedrooms. The only loud sounds were their laughs, which you really couldn't bring yourself to get mad about.
After nearly an hour, the blanket fort was complete. You all cuddled inside, the kids bringing their dolls as well.
"Can we watch a princess movie?" Stella asked once you had suggested they watch a movie.
"No! I don't wike it!" Miles immediately objected.
"Yeah, no princess!" Ethan joined his brother.
"Okay, how about… Peter Pan?" you asked them. Then, you leaned closer to Stella and whispered in her ear, "Tinkerbell's a fairy! That's almost as good as a princess, right?"
She contemplated it for a moment before nodding her head. You kissed the top of her head and put on the movie. You all settle down, and you cuddled Stella close to you, smiling as Ethan and Miles soon joined.
That was how Chris found you, about an hour later, and his heart swelled in his chest at the sight. His niece and nephews all cuddled up with you, watching a Disney movie. He thought about the ring, safely stowed away deep in his bedside drawer, and smiled softly.
With any luck, soon these might be your own kids you'll cuddle with. The thought filled him with giddiness, but also nerves. He didn't really think you'd say no, but hell – you can never know with these things. All he knew was that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, and he was going to ask you if you wanted the same. Soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The end of the day finally arrived, and Carly and her husband were coming to pick up the kids.
"You got everything?" you asked them. They all nodded their heads. "Great! Well, your mom's gonna be here in a few, so how about –"
"But I don't wanna go!" Miles complained.
"Yeah, I wanna stay here!" Ethan exclaimed.
"Princess auntie, pretty please can we stay?" Stella looked up at you.
"I'm sorry guys," you smiled, "But you have school tomorrow. Besides, your mom missed you very much, and I'm sure you missed her too. Don't you miss mommy and daddy?"
"Yes," they admitted.
"C'mon, don't be sad," you grinned at them, "you can always come visit us."
At that moment Dodger decided it was a good time to greet them goodbye, jumping up and trying to lick them. They giggled, and you and Chris exchanged a fond glance over their heads. You heard the car pulling up outside, so you caught onto Dodger and made him stop before Chris opened your door, knowing Carly would be coming to get them.
"Mommy!" they all yelled.
"Hey babies!" she greeted them and pulled them all into a big hug.
Dodger tried to escape your hold and join them, but you caught him before he could tackle them. "Don't be jealous," you playfully chastised him and scratched him behind his ear.
"Hello Dodger," Carly smiled and came to pet him as well. "Okay kids, say goodbye, daddy's waiting for us in the car."
"Bye bye!" said and hugged both you and Chris tightly.
"Bye!" you waved at them once they got out, closing the door gently behind them.
Chris came to wrap his arms around you. "You're amazing."
"So are you," you smiled into his neck.
"No, I'm serious. You were amazing with them," he smiled timidly. "And well, in the future, I…" he trailed off.
"Awwww, you were totally thinking about what if they were our kids, weren't you?" you grinned. "That's so cute!" you teased him.
"Whatever," his cheeks tinted slightly. "I guess you don't wanna hear what I think."
"No, I do!" you objected with a smile.
"I think," he started, "that you're gonna be the best mom ever someday. And I am so lucky to have you."
"And you're gonna be the best dad," you smiled before leaning it to kiss him.
When you broke apart, you smiled. You knew how true your words were, and you couldn't wait until that turned into a reality.
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