#anyway. that’s something i’ve got going on. in the works

[mountttmase]

Don’t Get Caught

Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - smut

‘So it’s just a shed?’

‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’

‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.

‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’

You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.

‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.

‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’

‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.

‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’

‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’

‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.

‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’

‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.

Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.

Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.

‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’

‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’

‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’

‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.

‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’

‘Why don’t you turn it off?’

‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.

‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.

‘How?’

‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.

‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’

‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’

‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.

‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’

He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.

‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.

‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.

‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.

‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride

Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.

‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’

You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.

‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.

As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.

He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.

‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’

‘I’m a good girl for you’

‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’

‘Masey’

‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’

‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.

‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.

‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.

‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’

‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.

‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’

You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.

‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’

‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’

‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.

‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.

‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’

‘Masey, I’m so close’

‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’

‘Mase’

‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.

‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.

‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.

‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.

‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’

‘Really? You don’t mind?’

‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.

‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’

‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.

‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’

‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’

‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.

#Mason mount #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount drabble #mason mount blurb #mason mount smut #mason mount angst #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fan fic #mason mount story #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer imagines #footballer imagine #footballer fan fiction

[psiroller]

in which chilchuck tries to get some but ends up a sucker to his caretaker instinct once again

i just wanted to write something where chilchuck unironically indulges laios' hyperfixation, lol. im folding this into something larger but it kind of stands on its own for now, so here.

“Hey,” Chilchuck slurred. An arm crawled around Laios’ shoulder, stirring him from his reading. “What are you doing up? It’s my shift.”

“Just research,” Laios replied cheerily. His eyes were drawn back to the book and away from Chilchuck, something that elicited a soft huff of irritation. “I’ll still be good to take over for you. I’m kind of wound up, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” Chilchuck snickered, his hand brushing across Laios’ chest with just a bit too much pressure to be purely friendly. “I’ve been wound up, too.”

Laios met Chilchuck’s lascivious gaze with concern. “Are you starving yourself again? You wouldn’t have such bad insomnia if you ate well.”

“I got wine, there’s nutrients in that,” Chilchuck giggled, giving Laios’ tit a fond pat. Laios smelled the drink on his breath and the hair on his neck stood on end.

“On an empty stomach? Chil…” “What you getting worked up for? I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Laios’ brows furrowed. Chil stared up at him, waiting for him to back down, and the smug smirk only widened when he didn’t.

“You gonna force-feed me or something? I didn’t take you as into that kind of thing.” “Knowing how depraved you are, you’d enjoy it if I did.” Chilchuck scoffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re one to talk—”

Laios closed his book. “You’re being reckless,” he declared, in that know-it-all leader tone. Rarely used—Laios hated using it—but terse enough for Chilchuck to tilt his head and shut his mouth for a minute. Not long enough.

“Being a little tipsy doesn’t mean my eyes and ears don’t work,” Chilchuck groaned, pulling away and slumping onto the next step up from the one he was perched on.  “It’s not my job to fight them anyway. All I gotta do is throw the bottle at your head and I’ve done my part.” “I’m not talking about the party, Chil.”

Chilchuck shrunk away from Laios and crossed his arms.

“When did you become such a nag?” Chilchuck groaned. “I’m older than you. I know my limits.”

Laios turned from his seat on the floor, rising on his knees, invading Chilchuck’s space. He braced his arms on either side of Chilchuck’s lap.

“Do I have to say why?” Laios rumbled. “If you don’t want me to care, stop making passes at me.”

Chilchuck clucked his tongue. “Didn’t have to hit on you to get you to take a few quills to the back for my bony ass.” “So much for never talking about that again.”

Chilchuck grinned. Laios’ eye twitched, knowing that Chil knew he’d taken the bait. Chilchuck reached up to cup Laios’ face; Laios let him, unfortunately.

“You can relax, big guy,” Chilchuck said, and the softness in his voice made Laios deflate all at once. “I got by just fine until you hired me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to believe you,” Laios murmured. Chilchuck could feel the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke, the weight of his heavy tallman skull in his palms. “I do. But you don’t know—" “I’m fine,” Chilchuck asserted. “What’s got you so…?”

He stopped, bit his tongue. Laios looked up at him with those insufferable, upturned puppy dog eyes, deep amber in the low firelight, and he remembered. Chilchuck let out a long-suffering sigh, stroked up his cheek into Laios’ hair and scratched his scalp.

“We got this,” Chilchuck said. “It’ll be alright.” Laios slumped forward into Chilchuck’s lap, thick jaw slamming down onto his legs like a harpsichord lid, and Chilchuck squawked. Laios turned his face into the loose-fitting, threadbare slacks Chilchuck normally wore to bed, sucking in a long breath that made his back rise and then letting it all out through his nose. It reminded Chilchuck of Leed’s wargs after a good dinner, resting their big, wrinkly heads on any friendly knee and whining for attention.

Chilchuck scratched at his sideburns. He knew propositioning Laios would be risky in the dungeon, but this wasn’t the kind of disaster he’d envisioned if it went wrong. His hand came to rest on Laios’ back, and he rubbed it along the length of Laios’ spine. Laios’ broad body sunk that much further into his lap. Chilchuck’s calves were going numb, but he held deathly stll, as if he’d scare Laios off. As if he didn’t want to scare Laios off and get out of this mess.

“We’ll find Falin,” Chilchuck said. “We did it before, and we’ll do it again.” Neither of them believed it, really, but it was a nice thought. Maybe if they chanted it enough a spell would be cast. No mana sickness yet; they’d have to keep at it.

“I’m pretty confident about that,” said Laios, muffled in Chilchuck’s legs. His breath puffed warm on his thighs in short, controlled breaths. “But if we do and we don’t get her, if the Mad Mage takes care of us, then—it’s not just Falin, anymore.”

Chilchuck’s breath caught. His fingers curled in Laios’ shirt and tugged fitfully. Laios didn’t budge.

“She used to be all I had, you know.” Laios hugged Chilchuck’s pins-and-needles calves, which further trapped him but also returned some level of blood flow. Small blessings. Chilchuck wished he were dead. “That was fine. It was—better that way. Less to worry about. Then I found a nice girl, and I proposed—"

“Wait, what?”

“—she was so cute, so nice to me, but when my father said Falin would have to leave, I couldn’t just leave my little sister to rot somewhere, so—I broke it off. It didn’t matter, if I could earn enough money and Falin would be okay—”

Try faking a heart attack. You have the plausible deniability. “He… sent Falin away?” He was dimly aware of Marcille and Falin having met at magic school. “You were supporting her?”

“—but I didn’t even—need to. She was happy where she was. And I still—I still dragged her here, let her get eaten, let the Mad Mage take her. What kind of brother—”

Chilchuck gripped the back of Laios’ skull and pulled at his hair, not enough to move him, but enough to shut him up. He let go and ruffled it instead, soothing out the tension in his scalp. Laios melted, limbs melting to the stone tunnel floor.

“I see why you’ve been so wound up,” Chilchuck said. “You’ve just been sitting here and spiraling. Are you even reading that book?”

Laios squeezed Chilchuck’s legs to his chest. “Not really. I’m looking at the words but I’m not… retaining anything.”

That’s bad. “Let me see it.” Laios looked up at Chilchuck with confusion, then distrust. “Please?” That only confused Laios further, but he lifted the worn old tome from the floor for Chilchuck to take.

“Dragons of the Eastern Archipelago,” Chilchuck read out. “Another cookbook, eh?”

The jocular tone whiffed right past Laios’ ears. “It’s… not really research,” he admitted. Chilchuck thumbed through the pages—there were many detailed technical sketches of long-bodied, short-limbed dragons with horsehair and deer antlers, strange boggling eyes and stretched lips. More impressionistic doodles filled the margins, with scrawled-circle eyes and jagged teeth, little flared scratches of the broad side of a pencil representative of dragon fire. Their fat snake bodies had wobbly, uneven sides and sloppily looping scales—but some were a little more distinguishable as a dragon than others.

“Ah.” Chilchuck cleared his throat. “Nothing wrong with a little light reading, I guess.” He tried on a smile. “The, uh, pictures are nice.” “I kept telling Falin that long don’t breathe fire,” Laios said, voice tight, “but she kept saying it would be cooler if they did.” “That’s what they’re called? Longs? Seems kind of on-the-nose.”

That managed to get a laugh out of Laios, but it sounded more exasperated than anything. “It’s just one of the native words used for them, but it’s not Shuro’s language, apparently. The word he uses is ryu.”

“I haven’t seen anydragons other than red and green. Maybe it’s just the dungeons I’ve been to.” Chilchuck said. He winced, realizing he’d just stumbled over a lecture topic, but Laios stayed folded across his lap, seemingly having gotten comfortable there, and stayed quiet. The silence made Chilchuck’s hair bristle. Chilchuck nudged him, knuckles against Laios’ temple.

“C’mon, man, I set you up. Go on.” “Now you’re just making fun of me.” “Seriously, Laios. I really want to know this time, and you’re gonna sulk about it?”

Laios turned up from his lap to read Chilchuck’s face, though he never seemed to be able to get it right all the other times he’d attempted it. Chilchuck heaved a melodramatic sigh and patted Laios’ head, an action that lowered his hackles. It really shouldn’t have worked that easily, but Laios closed his eyes and hummed.

“There are… so many kinds,” Laios said dreamily. Dread began to creep in on Chilchuck’s charitable mood, but he’d talked himself into a corner. “They’re super adaptable. Pretty much anywhere you have a dungeon or an ecosystem robust enough to support one, you can find a dragon.”

“I’ve, uh, heard about white dragons. Furry ones, kind of like these guys, but with wings and the stocky body type. Never seen one, though, so it could have been bullshit.” “Oh, they’re real. Pretty common up north.” “Do they really breathe ice? How does that work?”

“Basically, yeah. It’s super-cooled air. They have huge lungs and a fuel organ like a red dragon, but instead of burning the waste matter inside, it liquefies it into a kind of slurry—” Chilchuck grimaced, but Laios was already talking with his hands and not measuring Chilchuck’s enthusiasm. “—that undergoes a rapid chemical reaction when exposed to the air the dragon exhales.”

“Huh.” Chilchuck absently stroked the back of Laios’ neck. Laios squirmed, but didn’t complain. He slipped out of his kneeling position to sit flatter against the wall, head still flopped over Chilchuck’s lap but looking outward toward the fire. The angle looked uncomfortable, so Chilchuck dropped a step lower, letting Laios slide over just a bit more, lay more solidly in Chilchuck’s lap. Laios’ ears had turned red. “Y’know, I always just figured magic did it. I never knew any of the biology until I met you.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking that way,” Laios half-shrugged. “They wouldn’t exist without some kind of mana source, so they’re still a product of magic. But to sustain the kind of huge, complex bodies dragons have on mana alone would starve the ecosystem, so they have to develop organs and bones to keep them upright and moving to serve their purpose.”

“To destroy whatever enters their lair?”

“To survive.”

“Same as the rest of us, then.”

Laios hummed. Chilchuck’s wrists had begun to hurt from holding the book, so he propped it up on the crown of Laios’ skull. He didn’t seem to mind.

“So what’s this big pearl they keep drawing the long dragon with?” Chilchuck asked, even though the answer was right beneath it, indicated helpfully in a list of figures.

“Oh, that’s an egg, believe it or not.”

“No kidding.”

“Dragon clutches start out pretty big, but because of how demanding the hatchlings are, most of them don’t survive to adulthood. Some species of dragon choose a ‘favorite’ out of their eggs to focus on and raise instead…”

Chilchuck smiled into the palm of his hand as Laios rambled, flipping through the book to keep his eyes open as Laios talked, listening as the spaces between words grew and his tangents unspooled, dissolving into dreamlike nonsense. The weight of Laios’ head got heavier in Chilchuck’s lap until the static crept back in, but Chilchuck had no intention of moving him anymore. It was well past the scheduled watch shift change by the time Laios began to softly snore, but Chilchuck didn’t rouse him.

#chilaios #dungeon meshi #ficroller #if you recognize the dragon egg factoid i know what you are

[in1-nutshell]

Bot Buddy being Rodimus's older sister and having a crush on Swerve

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted Romance, Cybertronain reader

Buddy is a near carbon copy of Rodimus.

Key word ‘almost’.

Instead of sporting the red and oranges being her main color on her frame, Buddy has more blue tones with some yellow around.

That is where all similarities end.

Buddy being related to Ultra Magnus makes more sense than her being related to Rodimus.

“Hey Buddy! Watch this!”--Rodimus

Rodimus on the top of a tall shelf.

“Rodimus No!”—Buddy and Magnus

Buddy and Magnus look at each other in surprise.

“… I hate when you two do that.”--Rodimus

“Don’t care, get down here before you break something or hurt yourself.”--Buddy

“But—”--Rodimus

“Rodimus.”--Magnus

“…”--Rodimus

She was in fact close to him though.

Being a part of the Elite Guard for most of the war can do that.

The other part was stationed around communications and message relay for the Guard or the Wreckers.

That was where she first met Swerve.

It was purely by accident.

Swerve had been given the wrong number and connected her instead.

“Hello? How may I help you?”--Buddy

“You’re not Blurr. Who are you?”--Swerve

“You have the help line for the Wrecker’s and Elite Guard, do you require any assistance?”--Buddy

“Oh, no not really. I thought I had Blurr’s number. You know Blurr?”--Swerve

“Yes, I am familiar with the racer.”--Buddy

“Isn’t he the best! We were going to hatch a plan to build and run a bar when the war ended.”--Swerve

“Really? Blurr agreed to that?”--Buddy

“Absolutely! He even gave me his number, but I must have punched in the wrong digits and contacted you instead. Not that you haven’t been nice and all!”--Swerve

Buddy laughing a little bit.

“Its all right… umm… what is your designation?”--Buddy

“The names Swerve! And who might I be speaking with if you don’t mind?”--Swerve

“I’m Buddy—”--Buddy

“You’re THE Buddy!? Wow! This is just my day! I’ve heard so much about you and your work with the Elite Guard, The Wrecker’s…”--Swerve

Buddy gets a bit more comfortable on her end ready to continue this pleasant conversation with Swerve.

It was a slow day anyways… it felt nice.

That started a slow friendship between the two.

The chats had to happen on scheduled days since Swerve had a habit of talking too much and Buddy didn’t like to stop him.

Buddy refused to talk to Hot Rod about this.

Swerve was her friend.

Finally, someone that hadn’t been friends with Hot Rod before knowing her.

She was going to protect her friend’s identity as long as she could.

But of course, Hot Rod had a feeling his sister was hiding something from him and was going to get to the bottom of it.

Hot Rod dramatically draping his frame on Buddy’s berth.

“Why won’t you tell me!”—Hot Rod

Buddy rolling her optics.

“I’m not telling you squat Roddy.”--Buddy

Hot Rod suddenly sitting up.

“What if its… someone?”—Hot Rod

Buddy frame stiffens a bit.

“It is someone!”—Hot Rod

Hot Rod flopping on her back and starts popping her side annoyingly.

“Who’s the lucky bot who’s got my stuck up of a sister like this?”—Hot Rod

Buddy grabs his digit and slightly bends it backwards.

“Hey! OWW!”-Hot Rod

“Keep it up and I’ll bend more than your digit Hot Rod. Got that?”--Buddy

Buddy lets go of his digit and crosses her arms glaring at him.

“Fine, fine, I wont start talking about your secret—”—Hot Rod

Buddy judo flips her brother to the floor.

Hot Rod was over the moon hearing that there might be someone out there for his stuck-up sis.

Maybe it would help loosen her up.

Primus knows she needs to stop stressing so much.

Buddy just wishes that Hot Rod would drop the subject… but is secretly pleased to hear that he is happy that she found someone she likes.

…then came Rodimus Prime.

Buddy felt their sibling bond significantly weakened thanks to the matrix bonding.

Rodimus didn’t seem to notice but Buddy did.

But she refused to acknowledge it to him.

He was a Prime now, he had other things to worry about than her.

Just pushing through trying to get her work done.

Timeskip to the Lost Light…

Buddy was not aware that Swerve was on the ship until she got wind of the bar.

She walked in and zeroed in on the minibot.

Buddy walking over to the bar where Swerve had his back to her.

“Welcome to Swerve’s you see anything you like?”--Swerve

Buddy smiles a bit.

“Hmm… I don’t know you recommend anything Swerve?”--Buddy

Swerve stops cleaning the glass in his servo and turns around, wide eyed.

Buddy smiles a bit more seeing Swerve’s own face light up.

“Buddy!”--Swerve

Swerve reaches over the bar to hug his friend.

Several bots at the bar stop seeing the small bartender hugging one of the most strict bots on bourd.

“… 20 shanix that Buddy tells Swerve off.”--Skids

“Deal.”--Chromedome

“Domey--”--Rewind

“Wrong. 50 and she throws him out.”--Whirl

“She wouldn’t do that… right?”--Tailgate

Buddy hugs Swerve back while silent chaos ensues behind them.

So many bots thought that Swerve was going to die that day.

Rodimus had so many com pings within that hour.

He brushes the pings off like a rumor.

Especially when he hears about something potentially happening between Buddy and Swerve.

… That changes when Rodimus starts to notice Buddy hanging out more and more at Swerve’s.

This was the first flag to be raised.

Buddy doesn’t ‘do’ crowded bars.

But he brushes it off as Buddy finally letting loose.

Rodimus is talking with Drift when he notices Buddy at the bar.

“Isn’t it nice seeing Buddy happy?”--Drift

“Hmm? Yeah… but it’s a bit weird seeing her out here.”--Rodimus

Drift raises an optic.

“She doesn’t like big, crowded places, it’s ‘Too loud and too much engex being spilled all over’.”--Rodimus

Drift looking at Buddy happily talking with Swerve at the counter.

“Maybe she’s here for someone?”--Drift

Rodimus downing the rest of his drink laughing at the end.

“Ha! That’ll be the day.”--Rodimus

One time a rather rude bot had come to the bar and demanded to know why he was cut off from the drinks.

All while he was slowly tipping to the side.

Buddy tried to de-escalate the situation.

“Listen, we are all civilized bots here. Lets just get you back to your habsuite or the med bay if—”--Buddy

The bot looks at Buddy and spits in their face.

“Can it! Your nothing more of a has been-washout-guards-bot who is only good for a pretty paperweight!”—Random Bot

Buddy wipes the spit infused engex from her optics, glares at the bot harshly, about to unleash the Pits when she gets interrupted.

“HEY!”--Swerve

Swerve stands on the bar counter gaining some height, his servos shaking at his sides.

“Don’t you EVER talk to her like that! Now. Get. Out. Of. MY! BAR!”—Swerve

Buddy feels her spark skip a pulse looking at the mini bartender.

The bot tries to take a swing at him, but Buddy grabs the fist in her’s.

Buddy’s optics blazing in fury.

“You heard the minibot.”--Buddy

Buddy kicks the bot in the back of the knee and throws the frame across her shoulder.

Marching outside and kicking the bot several feet away from the entrance.

“Get. Out.”—Buddy

“… She gonna be my Amica.”--Whirl

“Whirl, not the time.”--Cyclonus

“Well, I can’t be her Conjunx. Swerve has that covered; this is the next best thing.”--Whirl

“Swerve does not—”--Tailgate

Whirl points at Swerve still standing on the counter with a lovesick smile on his face.

“…Maybe your right.”--Tailgate

“Tailgate, Whirl no.”--Cyclonus

“Hold on Cyclonus, they might have a point.”--Rewind

“Rewind—”--Chromedome

Cylcnous puts a servo on Chromedome’s shoulder shaking his helm.

Chromedome sighs giving in as Whirl, Tailgate, and Rewind scheming in silence.

Buddy managed to cuff the bot and send him to Magnus.

The bot never came back to Swerve’s.

Swerve has heart shaped optics behind his visor.

You’d have to be blind not to see his clear ‘admiration’ for the former member of the Elite Guard.

But he is convinced that all of this will pass.

It’s not like Buddy would actually have feelings for him.

Meanwhile Buddy has started creating Swerve/Love playlists in secret.

A secret that she is taking with her until she goes offline.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #idw mtmte #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte rodimus #mtmte swerve

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader

word count: 9.7k

contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague

cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y

notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3

When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs. 

“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils. 

Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.

“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”

“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”

The most unbelievable thing of all?

“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”

Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.

“Have you ever heard of omens?”

Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear. 

“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.

You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.

You hate that you still have the dream.

You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face. 

“Suguru?”

His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen. 

Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.

You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.

He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found. 

Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.

“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”

Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community. 

He wouldn’t allow it.

“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.  

“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”

The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.

“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?

Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.

“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”

He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5. 

“How do you know about that?”

The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”

How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.

As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.

"Look at me."

He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.

"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"

A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."

The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.

"How?"

Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.

"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.

"There are more of you?"

"A couple dozen, yeah."

Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?

"How can you help me?" 

The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You hate her.

Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.

“Geto-sama!”

She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups. 

“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.

Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago. 

They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.

“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”

Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.

Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.

“About ready?” 

The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”

A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea. 

“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”

Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.

“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.

“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.

“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most. 

“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”

Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”

Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands. 

You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.

“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap. 

Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty. 

You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up. 

Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs. 

“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.

“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”

Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless. 

“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. 

“Yes sir.”

“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.” 

He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”

You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Geto-sama?”

The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”

Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.

“Why am I here?”

If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon. 

“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”

Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh. 

You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”

Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.

“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”

Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next. 

Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.

“Please be honest with me.”

Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?

Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.

“Do I mean anything to you?”

Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.

“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”

His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”

You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.

The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.

“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”

He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.

“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak. 

“So long, Suguru.”

He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.

“Can I touch you too?”

Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.

“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”

Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further. 

“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.

"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."

His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.

Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better. 

“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”

Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth. 

“I knew it was you from the moment we met.” 

He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.

Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.

“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”

Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority. 

Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag. 

“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.

“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live. 

Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”

The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.

“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”

You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.

Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.

Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.

He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.

He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.

Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone? 

Does it matter?

Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.

When’s the last time you felt like yourself?

Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him. 

He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown. 

“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”

The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.

Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”

It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?

Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.

“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”

Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“May I train with you today?”

Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder. 

“Why?”

The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.

“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”

Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you. 

Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.

Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.

“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression. 

“I already have. For everything.”

There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly. 

Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?” 

The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod. 

“I love you.”

I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.

“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”

“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”

And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.

“Do you trust me?”

This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.

“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm. 

“Do you love me?”

You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs. 

“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”

You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit. 

“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.

Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.

“Now, apologize like you mean it.”

Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.

“War is on the horizon.”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love. 

You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.

Just the way you like it.

“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”

For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.

“Do I sense disagreement?”

Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.

You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.

You certainly have.

“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does. 

“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”

The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.

“Look at me.”

Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.

“What do you think I should do with him?”

Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.

“Kill him, Suguru.” 

Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back. 

Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.

Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.

“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”

A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.

You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #kendall writes

[kelcemenow]

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 8.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1391

Warnings Some angsty vibes here, but it's going to get better, I swear!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

"Are you sure you're okay?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Travis, I'm fine. I'm just tired."

He stared at you as thoroughly as he could through his phone screen. Faint wrinkles between his eyes deepened as his eyes narrowed. He hummed quietly before laying further back on his bed, his elbows elevating his torso, "Your Dad seemed pretty happy tonight."

You forced a smile, your chest still panging with hurt, "Yeah, thank you for doing all of this, he had a blast."

"And you?"

You paused, a little longer than you should've, "Yeah, it was great."

Luckily, Travis had rolled across the bed to grab the charger for his phone and didn't pick up on your disheartened expression, "I'm still pissed you wouldn't let the team doctor check you over."

"Travis, I really appreciate that you're concerned for me, I am. But honestly, it wasn't necessary."

He sucked his teeth and shook his head, "It's crazy though, there's gotta be a reason you passed out."

You avoided his gaze, adjusting the folds of your bedsheet.

"Anyway baby, I'm tired. I think I'm going to hit the hay, okay?"

Nodding your head gently, you could feel your body yearning to yawn, "Yeah, me too."

"But I'll call you in the morning?"

"Sure."

You watched as his eyes creased into a sweet smile, "G'night, babygirl."

Your stomach fluttered as his left eye quickly closed into a charming wink. It seemed travis had a talent for making you melt, no matter the situation.

"Goodnight, Travis."

The phone display returned to your home screen, a black and white photo of you and your Dad when you were younger. You must have been around 9 or 10 years old and were wearing one of his work t-shirts, splotches of grease and oil covering most of the fabric. He was leaning over the hood of his car and you were stood on a stool in front of him, holding a large tool in your tiny hand. You recognised his battered baseball cap adorning his head as one of your own now, something he gave you when you took on part of his business. 'A good luck charm', he said. Your chest swelled with love before melancholy set in. The opinions of other people had never bothered you in the past, especially the opinions of complete strangers. You had always been confident in yourself and you valued hard work and kindness over appearances. But now here you were, overthinking and distracted by the online comments of people you didn't know.

You laid back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling, shadows forming swirled patterns across the white paint. Taking a few deep breaths, you glanced across to the digital clock on your nightstand before feeling your eyelids droop lower and lower with each breath.

______________________________________________________________

Music blasted from the small radio you had perched on top of the exposed engine. Your head was buried under the hood, fingers tinkering at greased bolts and pipes as the sounds of the garage were overpowered by Whitney Houston.

"Y/N!" A deep voice yelled out from behind you.

Your body jerked as the noise disturbed your focus. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Jordan standing 20 yards or so away from you, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Yes?" You said impatiently, without changing your stance, a clear sign that you weren't interested in a lengthy conversation with him.

"I don't know if you're busy or..."

"Yeah, I am."

"Right." Jordan turned away for a second before spinning around and taking a few steps closer to you, "You know, it's just that it's obvious that other people think the same as I do."

You stood up straight, your shoulders tightening, "Excuse me?"

"I just don't think that you and Travis are a good match for each other." His feet were planted on the floor but his knees were twitching, his hands nervously fidgeting in his washed out denim jeans, "And I know I shouldn't have behaved the way I did the other night, but I was just in shock to see him there, you know? He's a pretty big deal, and you...you're just a-"

"Is this supposed to be an apology?"

Jordan sighed, his hands moving up to his temples, "I just think you would be better suited with someone else."

You laid down the spanner that you had been firmly gripping, the clang ringing out through the garage and capturing everyone's attention, "Someone else? Someone else like you, you mean?"

"Y/N, that's not what I'm saying-"

"What are you saying, then?

Jordan's gaze drifted to the floor, "I...I don't really know."

You took a step towards him, "Exactly. You don't know what you're saying. So, let me give you a clue. Who I date is none of your business, Jordan. It is actually none of yours, or anyone else's business."

You could see heads turning in your peripheral, but all that you could feel was the heat quickly rising in your chest and adrenaline speeding through your veins. Jordan stood with his mouth open, as if he was about to speak but even if he wanted to, you were reluctant to give him the chance.

"So, just...stay out of it, okay?" You waved your hand before rushing over to the bathroom, the wooden door slamming shut behind you.

Your shaking hands reached for the white basin, fingers gripping the smooth, cool, porcelain as you looked up into the mirror. You gritted your teeth as you attempted to hold your composure for a few seconds before you crumbled, tears travelling down your cheeks quickly. The clangs of the garage were muffled in the distance behind your occasional sobs, but you ran the tap just in case anyone could hear you.

Your reflection stared back at you, the skin under your eyes shiny from tears. As your breathing slowed and you took back control of your emotions, you grabbed your hair behind your head and tied it back with a small scrunchie that was snug on your wrist. Wiping your face, you inhaled deeply before a gentle knock on the bathroom door made you jump slightly.

"Uhh, there's someone in here." Your emotionally charged voice gurgled.

"It's Dad."

You looked around the small restroom, for nothing in particular, before flushing the toilet, "I'll just...I'll just be a minute." You called out, grabbing a hand towel and desperately dabbing your face.

There was a short moment of silence on the other side of the door as your Dad waited for the sound of rushing water to cease.

"He's gotten under your skin, hasn't he?"

"Jordan? I couldn't care less about what Jordan thinks." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and brushed down your overalls, "I don't-"

"I meant Travis."

You turned towards the door, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Forgive me for saying this, and I know I don't really know much about your dating life-" He let out a chuckle, "-but I've seen a change in you. A good change."

You reached for the door handle, "Really?"

"You seem happier." You could hear a smile in your Dad's voice, "Today aside, of course."

As you gently turned the handle and opened the door, his face came into view, his cheek pressed to the door frame, desperate to comfort you. You exhaled a smile as his eyes scanned your face, "I am happy."

"So, what's this?" He gestured to your eyes.

You shook your head, "It's stupid, really. I saw some comments on a picture of me and Travis online and then Jordan just-"

"And since when did you care what people thought?"

You blinked, "I don't."

Your Dad pushed the door open further and placed his hands on both of your shoulders, "So, what's the problem?"

You giggled, "I don't know."

"I think I know." He winked with a grin.

You lowered your brows again, your lips tightening into a coy smile.

"You like the guy!" He shook you gently, "And I don't blame you. But I have to be honest here, he's the lucky one to have you, sport."

You looked down at your feet, your cheeks flushing with red.

"So, fuck what everybody else thinks!"

"Daddy!" Your head snapped up, your eyes wide at your Dad's uncharacteristic cursing, which was something exclusively reserved for watching football games.

"Go get him."

______________________________________________________________

I think I've got my groove back!

This series will be finishing soonish and then I'll get onto the one-shot requests list that I have sitting in my notes app...which is quite a few!

Anyway, I hope you like this next chapter, it's not too dramatic but it's setting up the finale! If you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!

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#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic #kelcemenow requests

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

#marauders era #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fic

[arokel]

Catfooted

Fandom: The Boys in the Boat Pairing: Don Hume/Bobby Moch Words: 804 Rating: G Notes: Bobby really was on the UW fencing team! I took one three-week fencing unit in middle school PE so I am of course an expert in the sport as you can see from this fic.

Don knows he sticks out like a sore thumb in this crowd. He’s clearly not a fencer - he’s got the wrong proportions, for starters, and the UW fencing club is small enough that he’d stand out as a new face anyway - and he’s even more clearly not a fencer’s girlfriend.

Not that all or even many of the women dotted among the seats in the fencing courts have boyfriends among the team, unless fencers have a much more bohemian understanding of relationships than rowers do. But most of them seem to have at least inclinings that way, if the way their eyes track the lithe bodies of the fencers as they shake out their wrists and push their sweaty hair off their foreheads is any indication.

Don only has eyes for one of them.

He’s always known Bobby is athletic - Bobby keeps up with the rest of them on their training runs when his lungs allow, and what meat there is on his slender limbs is mostly muscle. But he’s never seen Bobby move like this. Graceful, predatory, catlike in the way his feet barely touch the ground before he’s bounding away with a delighted laugh, challenging his opponent to give chase. The wire helmet obscures his expression, but Don can see it perfectly in his mind’s eye: bright grin flashing, cheeks flushed in triumph and exertion, eyes alight with the thrill of the game. It’s beautiful.

Bobby’s opponent does something complicated with his foil and the girls beside Don murmur in appreciation, but Don’s attention is fixed on the way Bobby twists easily out of reach and parries with a direct, no-nonsense block. It’s so very much like Bobby that Don can’t help but laugh quietly to himself, even if it makes the girls glare at him. Let them think he’s amused by their sighing and pining; they can’t know that he’s just as besotted.

He and Bobby aren’t dating, per se. Don doesn’t know how that would even work, given how dangerous it would be for them to be seen in public that way, or to spend any more time sequestered in Bobby’s room with the door locked than they already do. But they’re doing everything else. So even though he’s only attending Bobby’s match as a friend, he feels a kinship with those girls in the stands who do have a sweetheart in the running.

Except that unlike them - Don can only assume - Don has felt that wiry body under his hands, has seen just how far those flexible hips can bend and twist and writhe atop Don’s. Bobby’s sweat-soaked hair and flushed face is familiar to Don for far more intimate reasons than fencing. Watching him now with that knowledge is mouth-watering.

Bobby looks like a wet dream come to life when he bounds off the court, shaking his hair out of his eyes and pushing the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows. His gaze seeks out Don in the stands and he grins as he makes his way over. He, too, has no eyes for anyone else.

Don wants to tell him congratulations, or even a simple hi, but his mouth is suddenly too numb to form words. Up close, he’s almost too beautiful to look at.

“Cat got your tongue?” Bobby says, coming to a stop at Don’s feet. His chin is tipped up in teasing challenge, his lips chapped from breathing so hard, and Don can do nothing but nod. Bobby smirks. “Well, tell her to give it back. I’m kind of fond of it.”

“You were,” Don manages, face flaming. “You were. Out there. Very…”

Bobby’s laugh is delighted. “Why, thank you. I’ll take that as the compliment I assume it was meant to be?”

“Very much. Thank you for letting me come,” Don says. He feels on firmer footing with pleasantries rather than the veiled but very public flirting Bobby started them out with.

Bobby’s grin softens and his eyes dart down to his feet for a moment, shy, before he looks back up.

“Thank you. It was - I’m glad you could make it. I’ve got no girl to cheer me on, so…” He clears his throat. “But who needs a girl when I’ve got you, right?”

It should sound like a consolation, and it does hurt a little to hear. But Don also hears in it the truth of what Bobby really means: Bobby would date Don too, if they could. He’s fond of just a bit more than Don’s tongue.

"Yeah. You've got me."

Bobby beams. Then, alerted by some noise, he looks back over his shoulder and sighs. “I have to go change; I’ll see you back at the house. Find that cat in the meantime, maybe?”

Don watches him go, smiling like a fool. He knows the girls can see it, but he doesn’t much care.

#the boys in the boat #don hume #bobby moch #don hume/bobby moch

[katnissgirlsmakedo]

did i ever tell y’all about my little cousin who i’m very patiently waiting for her to turn 12 or 13 so i can get her to read city of bones as a long term comedic revenge plot against her father

#she’s only like 8 i think there’s still a ways to go #and thank god for that because i hardly ever see her rn so i still need time to build it up #idek how much of a reader she is at this stage but her parents read so i imagine she’s gonna be a reader too #she’s not an ipad baby like her cousins i have high hopes for her #basically the backstory is that her dad (guy who married my older first cousin when i was 10. he’s basically been around forever tho) #he used to make fun of me for my ya fantasy books (jokingly he was never actually Mean) and when they had a daughter i realized there was a #perfect way to enact some hilarious revenge… #his kids love me i could maybe even pull it off twice with their son #but that’s maybe bordering on evil so i won’t plan that far in advance #he’s five he might not remember he loves me by the next time i see him anyway #the daughter though is at an age where she does remember me and we’re buddies. but she’s too young to read ya fantasy still #anyway. that’s something i’ve got going on. in the works #oh if i ever mentioned the two 5 year old cousins who’s nails i painted at my family reunion last summer. that kid was one of them #just to tie the narrative together for you <3

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

#in some ways it IS the move to go to grad school right out of undergrad #because your body can still sort of operate like a college kid #i’m on about 3ish hours of sleep rn and this morning it felt SO over but now i’ve eaten something and we’re so back #i also don’t really do caffeine. except sometimes i’ll go get one of those panera death lemonades #i might be able to snag a short nap before work #but anyway about seventeen year old emilie. i was thinking abt how she was in that movie solitude and adrien said she was seventeen #WAIT. NO. HE SAID SHE WAS SEVENTEEN IN THAT PHOTO ON HIS DESKTOP NOT IN THE MOVIE #well. okay whatever i’m gonna tell you what i was thinking about anyway #OKAY i’m back i just checked the wikipedia page and then i watched the end of gorizilla. to make sure i’m not lying. because i’m normal. #anyway i was thinking about the solitude film and how it’s super rare and old and obscure and whatever. and how apparently #emilie wrote it herself and andre produced it #and i’m thinking about how gabe was discovered by audrey and that’s how he got his start in the fashion industry #so now i’m like?? did gabe and emilie first meet on the set of solitude? because gabe was designing costumes or whatever? #and that’s how audrey found him? have people already thought about this?? #also i just checked and it doesn’t say emilie’s last name in the credits and also it’s ‘graham films’ with the twin rings logo m #so i’m assuming she’s still emilie graham de vanily at that point #anyway it comes back to seventeen year old emilie because i started imagining seventeen year old runaway emilie having her new life in pari #after escaping her british nobility life #and the first thing she does is write and star in an original movie. of course. #and she meets this repressed bisexual punk upstart costume designer who is so the opposite of everyone she’s ever known #and he’s immediately so unhealthily obsessed with her. which she appreciates. #and then they proceed to have the most toxic doomed evil relationship of all time #also she gets cheated because once gabe gets money he represses himself SO hard that he is now exactly like all the people emilie grew up w #but at least he’s still obsessed with her #this is what i was thinking about during class today. i don’t know how i get anything done either. #ml #anna rambles #asks

[apolunatic]

Something that I really hope the (potential) next Master Detective Archives game delves into more are the paranormal dispositions and Forensic Fortes.

When they’re talking about Fortes at the start of Chapter One, Halara states that fortes are the result of people’s natural “paranormal dispositions” being honed into Forensic Fortes over at least two years of training.

When I first read this, I was convinced that at least one of the villains would have some sort of special ability— especially Yomi.

(Putting a readmore due to post length and images. May contain spoilers.)

I still wonder if Yomi has something unnatural going on, considering he has a few moments where his eyes literally go black, but this could also very well just be an artistic choice/dramatic effect?

Something else that’s interesting is how Halara’s Postcognition is really the only ability that can strictly be used for investigation.

Fubuki’s Time Leap and Vivia’s Spectral Projection can be used in all sorts of situations— even Desuhiko’s Disguice and Melami’s Spiritism have multiple applications.

However, there’s a clear bias towards people with special powers in this world:

Anyone with a innate ability can become a Master Detective, even if they’re not exactly great at their job (yet will still be greatly respected for their power), while powerless people have to work a lot harder:

But, as Halara says, it’d be great to have both.

It’s really interesting, and shows how there’s a lot more to being a detective than just having a special power.

The MDA universe has a lot of world building potential, and I really hope that this series is continued. Rain Code set a great foundation.

#master detective archives: rain code #mdarc #sorry if this is weirdly written #i haven’t done an analysis like this in Ages #some of my information could be wrong because i only played rain code one and that was when it first came out #but i’ve been working on replaying it again and it really got me thinking #anyways yomi babygirl you have something MUCH more sinister going on #master detective archives #rain code #yuma kokohead #halara nightmare #yakou furio #desuhiko thunderbolt #fubuki clockford #vivia twilight

[sweetest-honeybee]

Ooooh the fact your manager hasn't gotten fired yet tells me that she's fucking someone higher up, back when I was a hostess we had a guy that was always no call no show, got into shouting matches with the cooks, etc. Only reason he never got fired? We all soon found out he was fucking our manager

LMAO I’d agree if she wasn’t literally ancient 😂

#suggestive #she’s got OCD or sumn apparently so she expects people to be as much of a perfectionist as she is and higher ups like that apparently #so she’ll literally freak out in the worst way possible when something’s Not Right #that’s my theory anyways #it’s not justification by any means but it explains a LOT #that and I’m like 99% sure she’s a fuckin sociopath #I don’t know why she’s in a position to work with people bc she literally cannot work with people #bc again she will freak tf out if soemthing doesn’t go exactly the way she needs it to #and she’ll do it herself anyways #side note she’s also just kinda weird with customers in general #like I’ve seen her man a register a couple times and like… #she’s weirdly forceful about the whole transaction #like she’s trying to hurry them out of the store #get it done and over with

[vveakfish]

dont think im ever going to be over this page

#young justice (‘19) #conner kent #superboy #𓆟 #fish food #was going back through my camera roll trying to compile all the panels i’ve screenshotted into the folder i have for those #(​that i kept forgetting to update) #and got all the way back to the point where i actually started reading comics #again at least #there was a point jr(?) year of college where i binge read the young avengers books #but other than that i’ve just been reading manga #ANYWAYS #the first time i saw this i literally gasped #like there was just something about kons arc in this book that really got to me #people working against you @ every turn — trying to ruin your life in anyway they can #but eventually he learns he doesnt have to do it alone #hes got ppl in his corner #oughhh im sad abt it again #kon.pdf

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing

#weird addendum but pls don’t reblog my vent posts??? why would you even want to???? #everything has been So Much lately and I wasn’t gonna vent but then I remembered this is my blog and I can do what I want #one of my best friends left the country last week and he’ll be gone for like two years and I’m so sad without him around #I mean he’s been messaging me every day since he left but it’s still hard not having him here yknow? #and I’m moving into his place but it requires a lot of work before I can so I’m always exhausted #and my joints have all but given out on me completely so I’m always covered in KT tape and braces #which doesn’t gel very well with moving furniture and heavy boxes #and I have no money so I need to be job searching but I can’t do that until I move. BUT I NEED MONEY TO MOVE #on top of that my grandpa died and there’s so much family drama involving that it’s unreal #and weirdly the thing I’ve recently felt bad about is I’ve been neglecting my self imposed Fandom Duties #maybe not fandom specifically but like. creative duties #I want to write fic. I want to draw. I want to read and comment on other people’s stuff #I also really want to do more of my non fandom writing because I want to get something published this year. but i got no good idea aaack #or early next year #and I’ve just had like. no time at all to do any of it and the time I have had I’ve been too drained to do it #ughghghghghghggh #I think today I will drink and try to write something. as a treat. #after I go on a reblog spree to bury this because emotions are very embarrassing #anyway how are you?

[inkykeiji]

me vs letting a piece of writing be ‘good enough’ but not perfect

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ grrrrrrrrrr

#i’m going to tear my haiiiir out #you know what it is????? aside from suffering from debilitating ocpd ofc #it’s because it’s dabi #it’s because it’s dabi’s birthday gift #and i just want it to be the very best most perfect it can be #also it’s at 9.7k now sigh #anyway every time i’m tryna rush against the clock to get something out before 11:59pm i always feel like im back in uni LMAOOOO #but anyway!!!!! sorry everyone;; sorry dabi;;;; it’s just Too Big (hahahaHAHAHAHAHA) #no but in all seriousness i’ve been editing since i got home from the doctors and im only on page 7 oUT OF 25 sooooooooo #it’ll be a day late <3 #this has been clari with the updates #my therapist says i have to talk nicer to myself but goddamn it’s so hard when i’m just like !!!!!!!! LEAVE IT!!!!!! it’s fine!!!!!!! #and ocpd goes iTS NOT IT MUST BE PERFECT EVERY LINE MUST BE PERFECT NOW OBSESSIVELY GO OVER IT >:( #i’m working on resisting that voice no matter how much anxiety and terror it causes me #aaaaah

[trenchcoatsbi]

Happy five months to the Trenchcoat!!

psstt check out the stuff under the cut there’s more art and it’s pretty cool stuff if i do say so myself

Hi so I’ve been meaning to draw anons, like for fun and my enrichment (<- i really like drawing things for people i like) and uh that sketching session I had like three days did net me a lot of terrible awful rough sketches I could work off of, so i kinda just bit the bullet and started doing shit. so uh yeah that’s why there’s bonus drawings this go around for the blogiversary! There’s 2 more bonus drawings on the way btw!! I just did not have the spoons (or the ability to keep my joints normal enough) to be drawing long enough everyday to finish four full drawings from scratch with multiple characters in each, so the other two will be posted in the next few daysish hopefully…

sorry to anyone not included in one of these/in the other two I did try my best to remember as many of our frequent askers as possible but a lot of the anons who haven’t been chatting recently kinda just got buried by the qsmp folks lol…. speaking of the qsmp yall are pretty much the reason there’s group drawings and not just all silly doodles like the one with me and Vale (<- which i technically drew last month and could’ve posted at literally anytime but shh that doesn’t matter). I mean group drawings are not easy either but fucking hell you guys are three drawings all on your own…

I had to try so hard not to ask you guys what you looked like since I wanted this to be a surprise and since I just made up designs for the most parts here's who's in the bonuses!

Bonus 1:

Vale (🌾🪶 anon)

Bonus 2:

official-big-q

llulah anon (twice technically lol)

wilbur (ethercollective)

bad & foolish (itty-bitty-ferns)

q!pac anon

Bonus 3 (I might repost this drawing later with edited shading. it's too dark looking at it on my computer screen ugh i hate how colors look different on different screens):

💙🐏 anon

🦁⛰️ anon

Voidling anon

#phil posts #guys i’ve been going insane keeping this to myself btw I was so close to going to the discord and jsut posting the bonuses early over there #luckily my terrible sleep schedule knocked me out enough to keep me from doing that #i literally finished bonus 3 uh like at 2 am this mornign? something like that idk it kept me up cause my ipad kept crashing #like its not the most layers I've used for a drawing but I sure did put a lot of overlays on for the shading... #should i tag the anons here? probably. will i? no. god no sorry guys i don't wanna tag yall rn #anyway working on bonus 4 now let's goooo #i fucking forgot ot post this it was literally why i got on my computer fucking helll

[gatheryepens]

Okay mini life update since I’m about halfway through my gap year….

#so I don’t really know where to start #anyway for the past like 3ish months I’ve been very radio silence :| #mainly because of work #but also I’ve been busy doing uni interviews/prepping for them #I’m very much a person who likes to dedicate their time on something #and give it my undivided attention #so that’s why I’ve been slacking on giving updates and why my drafts keep on building up 💀 #anyway i digress #exciting news I’m going to uni!!!! #and I’m going to do vet med with a foundation year :))) #it’s going to be a long six years #but I’m so excited to start my course #I found out like last week but it took so long #since I did the interview in mid feb and they said I would find out mid March #so when it got past mid march I was loosing hope 😭😭😭 #anyway I’m so relieved that the uni process is over and I can’t wait for september to come #it’s going to be a really big adjustment going from my small city to a pretty big city but I’m sure I’ll cope #some other updates #work still sucks but it’s only for a couple months #then I see if I can talk to my manger about working when I’m on holidays #some other exciting news I’m going travelling in about 3 weeks so I’m very excited about that #and after this I might do one more trip maybe … #gatherrambles #gathertalks #thegapyeardiaries