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t-a-a-1 · 7 months ago

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The Darkest Hour

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

"So, one dot and a line is 'A' and a line and three dots is 'B'."

You had spent some time with Bumblebee to realize he was speaking in Morse code. You weren't fluent but you thought that studying and learning it should help you become more proficient.

The base is quieter than usual. Everyone but Ratchet was out on a mission to gather Energon. He is always working, you haven't seen him take a break from his enormous computer or what you assumed to be one. That's what you called it because you couldn't find a better word to describe it. Probably a Cybertronian data screen was a better option.

"So, have you found out the function of the ancient relic?"

You walk towards him on the platform. He didn't spare you a single second and kept typing.

"No, but I believe is part of something bigger," Ratchet says as he seems to be reading a scan. "A map may be."

"Interesting," you try to peak on his screen although you know that you won't understand any of it.

"When I was looking over the codes, it didn't say anything about a map. Although I haven't checked the rest of the documents for more information."

"How was a human like you able to decipher ancient codes that led to Cybertronian relics?

You didn't like the sound of the voice, as it belittled you. Thinking about it for two seconds, you decided to give it a pass. You didn't know if he asked out of genuine curiosity or because he was trying to satisfy his superiority complex.

"I don't read Cybertronian but there were some pictures I was able to figure out. After that, it wasn't that difficult really," you remember seeing a few paintings and historical places on the documents provided to you by your government insider. All of them have an inner message related to space.

"But it's understandable if a Cybertronian can't figure it out. The codes are centered on Earth's nearby celestial bodies. You know, like stars, constellations, comets, meteors, planets."

"That's ... interesting," his tone simulates yours. "If these are Cybertronian relics then why made the codes for something only humans can understand?"

"Well, maybe what we are looking for is not meant to be found by the transformers."

"Maybe, but we should find all the relics before jumping to conclusions," he finally, turns to look at you. A sign to tell you that what he is saying is important. "And find them quickly before the Decepticons find out what we are doing."

"Then we should head out soon."

"This would be easier if the ground bridge was working," Ratchet turns to look at his side. You follow, noticing an arc made of metal. It didn't look like much but according to the doctor bot, it allows travel through the entire Earth in seconds.

"But I've been having trouble trying to fix it."

"At this point, I'll just have to fly myself out there."

"Wait, you can fly?"

He asks with such more genuineness that you find it adorable.

"I mean as taking an airplane."

Ratchet vents heavily, he was disappointed at your answer.

"Well, meanwhile I try to work on the ground bridge. Maybe you can head out with the rest to the second closet location from here."

On the data-screen, a location appears. A relic seems to be inside the Big Bend National Park in Texas. It will take roughly a day to get to oil land.

"Just let me know so I can ask for a few days off work. Although I wish I could help more."

You were never one to stay still in one place. Especially when you see Ratchet working so relentlessly and everyone is out there probably fighting the bad guys.

"If you want to be more efficient, why don't you quit your job and stay here?"

How easy would that be? To just give up and live a life full of excitement and adventures with the Autobots. But you had a rare sense of justice. Within you, it was your duty to tell the truth to the people. They were the lie and you had to expose them. And of course ... getting a little praise on the way.

"Because I need money to buy food. I'll die if I don't eat."

This was also true. It would be hard for him to believe you if you weren't being fully honest.

"If your kind needs 'food' to survive ... Why do you need to work to gain it? Shouldn't it be easily accessible? Free perhaps?"

"Yes, but our civilization is not as advanced with such concepts," you loved changing topics and also seeing the perspective of humans in another species' eyes ... or better say optics.

"How barbaric," Ratchet intonates his voice, it was rather comical to you.

"Agreed."

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of car engines approaching. You look at where the sound is coming from and certainly, the Autobots started showing up.

They transform back to their normal form, standing tall and well beyond 30 feet. You see them more often now but you are still fascinated by them.

Everyone gives you a look, acknowledging your presence.

"How was it?" Ratchet asks. He sees them coming in empty-handed and has already expected an answer. But he asked for more details than results.

"We couldn't find anything," Bulkhead's voice is tired. You didn't even know how that was possible, supposing the machines don't get tired. But you have to remind yourself that they are living creatures. Not things.

"We are running out of Energon reserves."

"What about you? Please tell us some good news," Arcee asks as she looks over to Ratchet.

"Tragically, I have none," Ratchet says, taking the time to step aside from his work to talk to the group. "The groundbringe still needs to be worked on."

Everyone waited for Optimus' orders. After a few moments, he speaks.

"Due that we are low on Energon reserves, (Y/N) and I will search for the next relic. Everyone else shall stay here and continue on the search for Energon."

"The closest relic is one day away," Ratchet looks at his data-screen where a blue dot stands out on the map. "So we better find some Energon by the time you come back."

"I am counting on you."

The Autobots don't say a word. They never needed to in order to understand each other. They can't fail.

You type furiously on your computer as Optimus keeps driving. The are a few bumps on the road, the movement makes your screen shake. It made writing and reading difficult. Your head is starting to hurt for staring too long at the screen but you can't stop.

"You seem distracted."

Optimus voice interrupts your process but you don't take off your eyes from the screen.

"I asked four days off work to come. I've been missing a lot and the only way they would approve my PTO is if I finish two scripts and upload it by tonight."

The next relic should be found in Texas, which is around a day from Nevada without stopping. Yet, you are a bit worried about the bot. You don't know if Optimus gets tired and you wanted to suggest resting somewhere in the woods so he could rest ... or re-charge.

"If you so wished, you could have stayed at the base. You didn't have to come."

He is right. The coordinates of the relic had already been figured out.

"And become more useless than I already am?" you proofread your script. See a couple of mistakes and a few sentences that didn't sound right. You quickly click on the back-space, deleting your previous work. Who would have thought that writing about a grandma turning one hundred could be so difficult?

"Besides, trucks have stops and inspections. What will the transportation officers say when they see an 18-wheeler driving by itself?"

You were so engrossed that Optimus' silence went unnoticed. As you finished writing your script and clicking on the period key, you looked up and noticed the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. Then you turn to look to the co-pilot seat.

There, you find a young man around your age. Dark blue hair, ocean-eyes. Wearing a white shirt with a denim jacket. He doesn't smile but stares intensely at you.

You scream and throw your computer at him.

"PRIME THERE IS AN UGLY MAN INSIDE!"

The man caught the computer and looks at you with a confused face.

"This is my human hologram form," Optimus says, putting a hand on his chest. You were so used to hearing his voice on his robot or car form that watching it coming from a human version feels strange. "This is the form I use in case I am stopped by the authorities."

You reach out a hand, thinking your hand would go through him. It was not the case as you touched his shoulder. Grasping it so tightly, the clothes felt real. He almost did. But he feels cold and doesn't breathe. His chest nor shoulders move up and down. And his posture is too straight to be that of a human.

This once again reminded you that Cybertronian technology was millions ahead compared to Earth's which was primitive. To them, this was a simple 'hologram' because there wasn't a better word for your species to understand it. To you, this kind of technology was just beyond comprehension.

"If you have this hologram then why keep using cars as a disguise? Wouldn't this be a better way to blend in with our civilization?"

You reach out to take your laptop and take it from the grasp of the hologram quickly. Somehow you trusted Optimus' robotic version more than this hologram man.

"We can only use these holograms within 100 meters of our actual being," Optimus says. "Or if we have someone or something with a transmitter being kept at a close distance."

"I see," you give the hologram a stinky eye and Optimus wonders the reason behind your cold demeanor towards him. "Can you put him back? I like you much more as you actually are."

In the blink of an eye, the hologram disappears and you feel relieved. You didn't notice it but you feel the air of the vents touch your cheeks more strongly.

You were about to go back to work when you heard your stomach make embarrassing sounds. You were hungry, you hadn't eaten all day.

"Hey, Prime, can we make a stop?"

The gas station wasn't the nicest. It smells like piss. But there were burritos and against your lack of better judgment and hunger, you decide to buy one with egg filling. You looked around the store and bought some car stuff just in case Optimus was hungry. He couldn't possibly just drink Energon ... right?

You walk with a plastic bag and a burrito in hand. Opening the door to get inside Optimus' vehicle form. You close the door so no one can hear you talking to 'yourself.'

"Did you find everything you needed?" Optimus asks, anxious to get back on the road.

"Yes, and I also brought you some stuff."

Carelessly, you move the plastic bag upside down, the items falling down on the co-pilot seat.

"I got you oil from all kinds of brands." You also bought a lemon car air freshener. You stood up from your seat and put it in Optimus' rear mirror. "Pick your poison."

You sit back down while taking a big bite of your burrito.

"My apologies but if I were to drink oil, it would impair my ability to drive."

"How? I thought oil was good for cars," you chew into the food, tasting the egg and something else. Another ingredient you didn't ask for.

"Oil is good for maintenance but if we drink large quantities of it, our processor can become disoriented and there can be certain impairment in some functions-"

As Optimus continues talking, you spit the food in your mouth into your hand. On it, you could see scrambled eggs and pieces of steak. Steak that was still too pink for your liking and could still taste the blood on your tongue.

You open Optimus' door and run to the nearest trashcan. Vomiting what you just had and the entire of yesterday's dinner. It wasn't just that the food disgusted you, but the memories that were brought back were still too present. The smell of burned skin. It's as if you've gone back there. The screams, the death, the blood ... The blood in your hands was still too real for it not to affect you.

All the while, the Autobot leader watched, concerned for your safety and most importantly curious about what could make someone like you falter in such ways.

Optimus didn't want to stop, he tried to hide his disappointment but you just knew he was.

He stopped somewhere in the middle of the woods. There was enough space for him to mass-shift back into his regular size. You saw him stretch and move around, it must feel nice to rest after a whole day of driving.

He watched you as you meticulously built up a small bonfire for you. Pulling a 'camping bed roll' and laying it on the grass. You could feel his optics on you. He doesn't even try to hide it. Staring was rude on Earth but you doubted the same thing applied on Cybertron.

"If you want to say something, say it already."

You finished smoking a cigarette and threw the rest of the butt into the bonfire. Sitting on your camping bed, you had also bought a few crackers, chocolate and marshmallows to make s'mores.

"I do not wish for my words to cause you discomfort."

Prime sits a few meters away from you. His back rested against a large trunk tree.

"It causes me discomfort that you keep looking at me," you also didn't want to talk about what happened but you knew Optimus would always think about it every time he saw you. The thought annoyed you, you didn't want him to see you as weak. "You may be a bot but I can tell by your ... Optics that you want to ask something."

Your eyes lay on him. There is a stern expression. Of concern? Curiosity? Pity? All of them three? You couldn't tell and it bothered you.

"Let me guess, it's about me throwing up the burrito right?" you inwardly laugh. Now that you look back, it was so stupid.

"You must be thinking, what kind of person vomits because of a gas station burrito?"

"But it's more common than you think!" you already had a lie planned out. You weren't stupid enough to tell the truth. You didn't trust him. "It just tasted really bad and I don't eat meat. Made me lose my appetite."

To have PTSD because of a steak burrito was not on your to-do list for today. It was ridiculous and stupid. You can usually stand it when you see raw meat but having a taste of it is completely different. You feel pathetic for letting Optimus see you that way.

"I thought most humans enjoyed meat and other types of protein," he wasn't going to let go of the subject too easily. "Why are you different from them?"

"... Personal reasons?"

You didn't think he would care enough to ask any further.

"Personal ... reasons?" he asks, there is confusion in his tone.

"Yes."

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, it's kinda like," you look around and from your marshmallow bag, you take out two marshmallows. "Let's say you are dating someone and then you break up with them."

You move the marshmallows, pretending that they are people. Giving them life by creating a story of them. You put them together and then pull them apart, make them walk and fall.

"Then, I ask why you broke up the relationship and you say personal reasons"

You look up at the metal titan in front of you, he seems more amused by the marshmallows than what you are saying.

"That's like a cue for me to not ask any further questions because you are not ready or you don't want to talk about it," you throw one marshmallow into your mouth, enjoying the softness of it, "It's like a human social cue."

"What is dating?"

Questions and more questions. You would be annoyed but Optimus seems so genuinely curious that you couldn't deny him.

"Well, like," you try to look for the right words but explaining the concept of dating to an alien life was more complicated than you thought. "It's kinda like the time you spend with someone before deciding if you want to spend the rest of your life with them."

Optimus takes a few seconds to process your words.

"I see. Humans and Cybertronians differ on mating rituals."

You didn't like the word 'mating' since it was a term mostly used on animals. But now that you think about it, a robotic alien from a species that had evolved for millions of years may see you as an animal. Either that or he couldn't find a better word.

Nonetheless, the words made you question something. You look up and down at Optimus. Everything seems mechanical to you. Nothing 'natural' about him. But even so, you knew he was a biological begin.

"I hope I am not crossing the line but how exactly do Cybertronians ... reproduce?"

"Reproduce?"

You try to think of another word. From what you can see, Cybertronians don't have any reproductive organs, at least none you can see from the outside. The word 'reproduce' may be foreign to Optimus for that reason.

"As in create a new life?"

He takes a few seconds as if he were thinking of a simple way to explain things to you. You didn't feel offended, on the contrary, you could sympathize. It was difficult to explain to another species how humans work.

"On Cybertron, Sparkmates can build a Sparkling if they so wish. It is a very arduous process but after the construction is done, Primus may bestow a small part of the AllSpark into the transformer and so they come online."

A lot of those terms you didn't understand. But what you could conclude is that the process may be religious, more of a ritual than a natural phenomenon.

"It sounds complicated."

"It is a very hazardous, challenging and exhausting activity," Optimus says as he looks at you and then at the night sky. "But there's also beauty in it."

You take the freedom to look at him. He didn't have eyes as you know but his optics are expressive. Maybe it's the thing you liked the most about him. His optics never lied, it was easy to read and there is some logging in them that almost made you ...

"What about humans?" he looks back at you, unaware of your strange thoughts. "How do humans come to life?"

You look back at your ingredients. Picking up a marshmallow and a stick, you decided these two would be the characters of your story.

"Well, when a man and a woman really ... really love each other," you feel like you are explaining this to a kid but you try to make it as simple as possible.

"They become intimate," you put the stick inside the marshmallow. You take it out and put it in again, in a back-and-forth movement. After a few seconds, you look at Optimus who seems confused. You stop. Maybe you need to be more blunt with him, after all, he was a million-years-old alien robot. Embarrassment may not even be a concept to him.

"And nine months later a baby ... umm a very small human comes out of the woman's belly."

Optimus left the comfort of his seat to move closer to you. His faceplate was so close that you hear his vents and engines move. His optics showed such amusement that you would have allowed him to explore more of you just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Humans have the ability to create life?" Optimus looks at you with awe, his voice softer than usual. "You can give life to a sentient being, with emotions, dreams and hopes? Whenever you wish?"

"Well, I would need a partner first but yes."

After finally taking a deep look at you, he steps back and lays his back on the grass. Laying flat on the ground and having a front view of the night sky with its stars and moon.

"What a great power. Your gods must have certainly loved you to have given you such virtue."

Being able to reproduce another living being was a normal concept for humans. You never consider how difficult must it be for other alien species to conceive life. Especially for those that live millions of years. Humans have a short lifespan compared to that of a Cybertronian. There is no need for them to constantly be having children ... Or Sparklings as they say. Evolution had played them dirty, especially now. That's if they ever plan to repopulate their home planet.

"I wonder ... Since your kind has the ability to create life," Optimus speaks out loud although he seems to be talking to himself more than to you.

"If a Cybertronian and a human were to be intimate as you put it, would a new type of life be born?"

"I think it's more complicated than that-"

"How do your species become intimate?"

The marshmallow and stick explanation didn't work. You open your mouth just to close it again. It's not like it bothered you talking about sex but it wasn't like you were about to open up Pornhub and show Optimus a video. You just find it difficult to explain. It's not like you could say 'penis goes inside vagina' because Optimus would ask 'What is a penis? What is a vagina?'

Maybe it will be easier to explain it in his terms or in a way he can relate. You decide to ignore his question first in hopes that you can answer it later after he responds to you.

"How do Cybertronians become 'Sparkmates'?"

"Sparkmates are extremely rare. In my years I've only met five. There should be more but the war has lasted many eons and there are few of us now," the more Optimus talks, the more you realize that he isn't the quiet type at all. The right questions always make him talk.

"From what I've heard and read, Sparkmates could recognize one another and immediately Sparkbond as a sign of affection."

"Sparkbond?"

"A sacred ritual only reserved for Sparkmates. It is taboo for Cybertronians who weren't Sparkmates to Sparkbond," he continues to talk. You wonder if he is talking because he enjoys it or because he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up.

"But myths say that it is ... an indescribable experience. Even if I wanted to share this information with you, I am unable to ."

"Interesting," you are relieved to know that you weren't the only one having trouble explaining relationships.

"Humans are not like that. We can become intimate whenever we want. Even if we don't love or have feelings for the person we are intimate with."

"Cybertronians also enjoy other means of intimacy," he says as you finally rest on your camp bed, laying flat, looking at the same night sky as Optimus and a belly full of smores. "Most enjoy it with a recreational means."

This sparks your curiosity.

"So ... What other ways can Cybertronians be intimate?

You don't look at him but wait for an answer that never comes.

"I am not certain if that's a proper subject to speak with a lady."

"Oh, come on!" you decide to share some human information, maybe that would encourage Optimus to speak more. "Humans really ... really enjoy intimacy. It gives us pleasure. We actually need to feel a lot of pleasure in order to conceive life. Is it the same for you guys?"

"We do possess the software and right circuits that allow us to process touch and pleasure."

By the way he doesn't dare to look at you, you can tell he is flustered. You are happy to know that Cybertronians can feel embarrassed. Maybe you two aren't so different after all.

"All Cybertronians have different tension points and if caressed properly then ..."

Optimus stops speaking for a few seconds. You don't know if its the archivist in him, with so much knowledge that it's begging to be shared. Or if it is the reporter in you that wants to know more than you somehow find a way to get the answers you need.

"Then?"

The leader of the Autobots stays silent, debating whether or not to proceed.

"I wish to not speak of this further."

"Please, Prime, continue! You were just getting to the good part!"

"Please respect my wishes."

"Fine, fine," you say, quickly thinking of a better question. "But tell me, have you ever been engaged in this type of recreational intimacy?

You pay attention to his faceplate and although he has no clear expression, you notice his cheeks become slightly blue.

"OH, YOU HAVE!" you didn't need an answer anymore, you knew. "Tell me, how was it?! Was she beautiful?"

"I wish to recharge now."

He doesn't deny it and this further proves your conclusion.

"Tell me, please! I am so curious now about alien sex."

"Sex?" his voice is genuinely curious. "What is that?"

"You know what, I suddenly became sleepy too," you put a small blanket over your body, no longer wanting to explain the whole act of human reproduction anymore.

"Let's call it a night shall we?"

"But I wish for you to tell me more about this sex you speak of."

You close your eyes, ignoring his request.

"Goodnight, Prime."

Big Bend National Park in Texas probably has one of the best views of the Milky Way in the USA.

Ever since arriving on Earth, Optimus hasn't had the time to do any exploring as he would like. Free time is never really on his schedule but he finds himself enjoying this time with you.

You had expressed to him the desire to stay a couple more days. Deep down, he also wished he could relax and drive into the distance. He almost wanted to say yes but you had quickly interrupted him, saying that you had work and couldn't afford to lose any more days.

The two of you had to walk on top of a mountain. Mostly, he walked a couple of steps up while carrying you on his right servo.

Optimus looked around the area and then at the sky. He looked up while you looked down. He knows he should be paying more attention, especially when you insist on being the one to scratch the ground with a shovel. He had offered to do it but according to you, he was too brusque and might break the delicate artifact.

He wasn't so sure of that. But he assumed that you felt more inclined to offer your help because you didn't want to feel useless and he wasn't one to want to diminish your efforts.

"There is an ancient story about how the Milky Way formed."

Optimus was so concentrated on looking at the stars that he didn't notice that you had started shoveling.

"A very long time ago, a heavenly god had a beautiful daughter, a princess. She fell in love with a farmer. The farmer also loved the princess."

You continued to talk while shoveling, your voice was agitated and Optimus felt the need to do the job himself. But the last thing he wants is to make you feel unneeded.

"But the heavenly god did not approve of it so he cut off the sky in half. The farmer stayed on one side and the princess stayed on the other. They could never see each other again."

Still, your voice sounds excited. Is excavating that much fun to you? Or was it the story you were telling? Either way, he couldn't tell. But he enjoyed watching you do both.

"The princess would do nothing but cry. Seeing her sorrow, the heavenly god came to a conclusion."

Then, you had come to a stop. He seems some awkwardness in your face. Confusion and uneasiness. Something that is not very familiar to you. But you were pretending not to be.

"I am sorry, I am talking too much. This must be boring-"

He can't believe that he has been paying more attention to you than the story you were sharing with him. A sense of guilt and shame felt heavy on his spark. Was it the stars? Your strange body that he was so unknown to? Otherwise, Optimus can't understand why he would be so fascinated with the scene unfolding in front of him.

"No," he says, walking closer to you. He kneels to listen more closely. "Please, continue."

Seeing his interest, you continued with the last part of the story.

"He will allow his daughter to meet with the farmer once a year. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, a flock of magpies forms a bridge, allowing the lovers to reunite for a single day."

He waits for you to continue and then realizes that you have finished your story. With an ending he did not like.

"That god is cruel. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"It's not a real story," you stop shoveling for a second to look at him. Although the night is cold by human standards, you still manage to sweat. A condition that is extremely foreign to him but he finds it fascinating. The fact that you are able to produce a water-like substance out of your skin is astonishing.

"It's fiction. It gives us an explanation of how the Milky Way was created and it's about the message."

"It's a tragic tale with a tragic ending," he says abruptly, showing his clear distaste for the conclusion. "I do not understand the kind of morale this story is trying to convey."

You stand in front of him. His optics allowed him to study you. Your chest moves up and down. You blink constantly. Your hair moves with the wind and your face wrinkles when you talk. There's not a single part of your body that it's not expressive.

Little by little, Optimus understood why the human poets and artists were so enchanted by the beauty of the human body.

"I think it means that to love is to suffer and suffering can be beautiful."

By Primus, he could have sworn he felt a glitch in his spark. A feeling that lasted less than a millisecond but one he will crave for all of eternity.

"It's a part of life. You can't feel happy unless you experience sadness first," you go back to shoveling, the ground around you has become deeper. Optimus wonders how much longer you will last until you give up and finally ask him for help. He needs to help you.

"And besides the star-crossed lovers can still meet."

"Soon?"

You stop again to look at the watch in your hand. Then you go back to work.

"Right now actually."

Instinctively, Optimus looks up at the dark sky to see falling stars and comets. The milkway splits the black mantle of the night.

"I do not see any birds."

He hears a sound. Like a soft and strange melody, delicate but sweet. It's the first time he hears you laugh.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"Don't mind me. I am just indulging," you say, still giggling a little bit. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I see why you would be popular with the ladies."

"I- Umm-"

He wants to say something, to say more of him. To share things that will make him look more ... capacitated.

"Prime! I think I found it! The relic!"

You use your hands to get rid of the dust of the white pot. Taking a step aside, Optimus is glad to finally help you.Using two of his digits, he pulls the white pot from the ground, easily. It's not big but rather heavy for you. He is surprised that something made for Cybertronians could be this small.

"Mission accomplished," he says. "Let's get back to base."

The last thing you expected to see when you came back to base was to see three kids.

Well, two teenagers and one kid to be specific.

The Autobots had embarrassed looks on their face. Optimus was as unreadable as always. That made the situation even more uncomfortable.

"I departed for three days and returned to find ... small humans," Optimus observes the bots and the three other humans who look a bit scared. "Should I be concerned?"

Arcee steps in, knowing that she is the best to explain the situation.

"We were on a mission to retrieve Energon when we accidentally stumble upon the humans and they got tangled in our affairs with the Decepticons," Arcee says. "Agent Fowler was called and he gave us the order to guard these humans in the meantime."

Optimus stays silent.

"And the energon?"

"We now have enough stored for a couple of months."

He vents heavily and nods slightly.

"Very well then. I approve of Agent Fowler's decision."

Arcee then takes a step back and looks at the kids. She raises a servo, fully open. Not pointing but rather softly signaling.

"Jack, Raf, Miko," Arcee points to each of them for Optimus to learn their names, so do you. "Meet Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots."

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Hey."

Optimus kneels in front of the kids, taking a closer look at them. Memorizing their faces and names. Their appearances gave him a little hint of what their personalities would be like. He liked that, he wouldn't struggle too much to read them as compared to you.

"We have as well completed our mission smoothly," Optimus stands up and moves aside, leaving you exposed to the rest as you were kinda hiding behind his pedes. Next to you the relic that was safely stored inside the white pot.

"Old friend," now Optimus re-directs his attention to Ratchet. "Have you made any advances in discovering information about the relics?"

"No, tragically," Ratchet steps aside from his workstation to show the group the data he has collected so far about the first collected relic. "Good news is that Raf helped me fix the ground bridge so now we can collect the other relics across the globe."

"Very well then, the more pieces we have of this puzzle, the more we are closer to the truth-"

"Wait, is that (y/n) from Jasper TV News?"

Raf interrupts Optimus although there wasn't any malice from it. More curious than anything and excited.

You wave, still not liking the attention but you are not going to be mean about it.

"My mom is a fan of yours! She loves watching the news," Raf says as he gets closer to you. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I have my own shenanigans," you didn't want to tell the entire story, not wanting to divulge your bad behavior. "Long story short, I was in the wrong place, wrong time. Prime came to save me."

"So is Optimus like your robot guardian?"

"Guardian? Please, it's me the one who takes care of him."

You turn to look up at him, trying to tease him and get his approval.

"She does."

You weren't expecting him to answer but you are happy he played along.

"But I won't be here for a couple of days so maybe you three can take of him for me."

This time you look at the other two teens behind Raf who smile to greet you.

"Where will you be going?"

"Work," you say, your voice showing your clear disappointment. "Someone has to report the news and I haven't been attending to it lately."

You turn to face the Autobots.

"Now if it's not too much to ask ... can I get a ride back home?"

"I can take you home if so you wish," Optimus offers but you didn't want to bother him any longer.

"You've driven so much already, I think it's better if you rest."

Then, you hear beeping sounds. It was Bumblebee who had transformed into his vehicle form, opening the door for you to get in. You walk towards him, a bit excited to ride a nice-looking car.

"If you guys really need me, you can text me," you stand in front of the door, ready to hop in. "But besides that, I'll be drowning in work so please don't look for me."

There was some truth to that but you actually wanted some private time so you could write in your journal everything you learned on this trip. From the relic to Cybertronian reproduction. Everything was worth reporting.

"Goodbye, everyone!"

You raised your right hand, giving everyone a clear view of your palm. Waving your hand side to side. Bulkhead and the kids wave back to you while Arcee gives you an acknowledging look. Ratchet doesn't even bother, too indulged in his work and Optimus doesn't say a word.

You hop into Bumblebee as he closes the door.

Everyone watches as you and Bee head into the tunnel to leave the base.

Bulkhead and Arcee walked around the base and showed it to the kids. While Ratchet kept on with his work and Optimus just stared into the distance.

Although Ratchet was too focused on the screen in front of him, he could sense Optimus' presence still in the same room.

It was quiet and to Ratchet this was a bit strange. He looks at the back and finds Optimus still staring into the tunnel. His optics are heavy on him, that look on his friend's faceplate is not unknown to him but it's been eons ago since he saw it.

Optimus walks past the white pot uncarefully, making it spin, almost fall and break. He didn't seem to notice but Ratchet did.

"Did you see that?"

Ratchet asks pointing at the pot that thankfully did not shatter.

"Yes," Optimus says. "Her hands were damaged. Probably due to the excavation she did with the shovel. I should've had helped."

Optimus didn't see it before but your palms were swollen, pink and with a flew blisters and scratches. For a human with a soft skin like yours it must be painful to have.

"No, Optimus," Ratchet is now concerned. "The relic. Be careful."

Optimus looks at his side where the clay pot is extremely close to his pede. He took a few steps back, showing his clear confusion.

"My apologies, I'll be more careful."

Ratchet continues to look at the Autobot leader, wondering how or why he seems distracted. It's unaccustomed for a Prime to act in such ways but Ratchet couldn't completely be mad at him. He sometimes tends to forget that Optimus used to be more than a Prime and it was moments like this when he could see who Orion Pax used to be.

Every day is harder for you to get out of bed but you remind yourself that you need to go work. Tragically, you are not rich nor have anything to your name just a car you were able to pay off. A reporter's salary isn't great but it's not bad either. Maybe if you worked hard enough you will be able to afford to buy a house. A very small one.

You got out of the house, make-up and outfit ready. You weren't one to wear make-up in the office but today you were going to be live on television, reporting an increase in illegal car racing. Not something you were particularly interested in but you would take that any day over-reporting insignificant lifestyle.

You get into your car, put the tote bag in the co-pilot seat and close the door. You take your bag again, making sure everything is in there. Laptop, make-up bag, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

Your phone is missing.

You sigh heavily and take off the seat belt, trying to open the door only to realize you can't.

"Don't worry darling, whatever you need, you won't need it where we are heading."

And that's when you realize that this isn't your car.

Once again, you will be missing work.

A/N: Slowburn who? I don't think Reader and Optimus have feelings for each other yet but rather is a fascination for each other species. I think both Reader and Optimus are curious by nature and I think that's why they get along well so far.

If I am completely honest, I am not sure how this story will continue. I just know how I want to end it but it's a matter to get there. Of course, I want to implement some ideas I've had for a while into the story but I want to make it as smoothly as possible without things feeling rushed or making it seem like things happened out of nowhere.

Although I feel like things have strangely improved between Reader and Optimus and it's just the third chapter. So I don't know, I'll see how this story progresses. I've written really long slowburn fanfics before but for some reason I only see this story being around 50k-60k words in total. Which for me, that's a rather short fic.

I definitely want to explore more of Optimus character and mostly importantly, I want him to be able to feel. He may never act upon his feelings but he still feels. Some emotions maybe unknown to him so he may lash or act in certain ways.

I still don't know if I want reader to fall in love first just for Optimus to reject her and through the story we see her moving on and improving as a person (cause reader still has a skewed way look at the world and she is lying to the autobots) and as she moves on and dates other people, Optimus realizes he loves her and he gets angry and annoyed because he starts to have ill feelings like jealousy, rage, confusion, uneasiness and he feels all of that because of you. And of course one day he can't control it anymore and he angrily confesses your love for you under the rain? ( ok I might be making this part up haha)

But anyways, I think y'all get my point.

In the next chapter, I would also like to talk more about the reader and her past. I think she's rather interesting. Not bad but not good either. Her views about life changed and from being someone full of hope she became kinda pessimistic ... maybe Optimus can help her see the good side of life again.

Thank you again to anyone who took the time to read this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes but I don't really proofread since I don't have time. I wrote this while at work actually, haha.

Thank you and see you on the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425691778203648/the-darkest-hour?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/770605391385133056/the-darkest-hour?source=share

#optimus prime #optimus x oc #optimus prime x reader #transformers #optimus x reader #transformers fanart #transformers fanfiction #transformers optimus #transformers oc #transformer x human #transformer x reader #orion pax x reader #orion pax #tfp x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp fanfic #tfp #transformers prime

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boneapplet · 3 months ago

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Love in the Dark

Relationship: Konrad Curze x oc/trans!reader Warnings: Night Lord creepiness, Curze, hinted identity issues Word Count: 1076 Masterlist

Thunder crackling overhead, breaking the eerie silence that encompasses The Fortress of the Night. Striking the pavement with a hissing sound, sizzling upon contact. A small figure weaving through the scarce cover offered in the courtyard. The air is thick with a pungent, metallic scent, stinging the nostrils and making it difficult to breathe without a protective mask.

Gallius pushes open the grand doors of the fortress, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Keeping his gaze ahead and ignoring the chill that goes down his spine from the gazes of the Night Lords that lurk in the shadows. The only Night Lord he wished to catch sight of was the Night Haunter himself, Konrad Curze, Primarch of the Night Lords, whose mind was a labyrinth of contradictions—part savior, part executioner.

While Gallius was no Night Lord nor even an astartes, his bond with the Night Lords' Primarch ran deeper than any title or loyalty. He was a soldier of the Imperium, a member of the Astra Militarum—one whose battle had not just been for survival, but for the right to live authentically. He had fought for the right to be seen as he was, to have his existence acknowledged, and in the face of Konrad Curze's endless torment, he saw the same fight reflected in the Primarch's tortured eyes.

Their connection had begun on distant battlefields, where Gallius had stood against the relentless forces of chaos at the Primarch’s side, a soldier not bound by the darkness of Nostramo, but by his own desperate need for meaning. Now, he stood in the shadow of the dark, twisted fortress where Curze had built his empire of fear and justice. And here, in this place where shadows ruled, their relationship was not just forged in the fires of war—it was formed in the spaces between words and the quiet moments when neither of them felt the need to hide their truths.

Nearing the imposing dark metallic door with twisted engravings adorning it, he catches sight of the lurking shadowy figures of Kyr Vhalen near the door and that of Jago Sevatarion perched on the rafters. Giving Vhalen a respectful bow as the marine departs, passing through the grand doors, Gallius enters the Primarch’s private quarters.

Curze stands before the large window, looking out across the darkened world of Nostramo, his expression unreadable. Gallius moves to stand behind him, watching the Primarch’s back. Both standing there for what may have well been hours. He had long learned that it was the silence that spoke the loudest.

"You know," Gallius says quietly, "sometimes I think about how many years I’ve spent running from my own reflection. I fought to be seen for who I truly was, but in the end, I wonder if I ever truly found myself."

He allowed the silence to stretch before continuing "Maybe I’ll never know."

Konrad’s voice low, barely more than a whisper "You think I still remember who I am? You think I’ve ever truly found myself?"

He glances back at Gallius, his piercing eyes filled with a mix of pain and weariness "I was created in blood and darkness, molded into something the universe could never understand. And yet… I still question if I’m the monster they tell me I am. Or if I’m just a man, haunted by a past I can’t escape."

Gallius steps closer, feeling the gravity of Curze’s words. He could never fully know the weight the Primarch carried, but he understands more than most.

"You’re not a monster, Konrad," his voice firm yet tender "I’ve seen the man underneath the terror. I’ve seen the man you try to hide."

For a moment, Curze seems to flinch at the words, and the stillness between them grows heavy, laden with unsaid things. Finally, he turns to face Gallius fully, his expression a mix of vulnerability and dread.

"I don’t know how to do this," Curze admits, his gaze faltering.

"I don’t know how to be anything other than the thing they made me to be. The terror. The judge. The executioner. All I feel is rage. And emptiness."

Gallius’s heart tightens in his chest. He has never heard Curze speak with such raw honesty and vulnerability, making the words that follow hit even harder.

"I... I think I’m in love with you," Curze confesses, his voice unsteady "And I’m terrified."

The confession hits Gallius like a jolt of lightning. For a long moment, he says nothing, processing the weight of what has just been laid bare before him. It wasn’t the fear of rejection that shook him, it was the vulnerability, the terrifying openness that Konrad Curze has allowed himself to show.

Taking a steady breath, trying to soothe his racing heart. He steps to stand before Curze, their gazes never leave the others.

"I’m not going to leave you," his voice soft yet unwavering in its coviction "You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again. I promise."

Konrad's eyes search his face as though looking for any sign of doubt. The silence stretches between them, thick with unspoken fears, but Gallius stands firm, his hand slowly reaching out to rest on Curze’s arm.

Curze doesn’t pull away.

For a long moment, the two of them stand there—no longer the dark demi-god and the soldier, but two broken souls bound by their shared pain and the fragile thread of connection that neither had expected. The weight of what they had just shared was almost unbearable, but there was something else there too: hope.

"I don’t know what comes next," Konrad mutters after a while, his voice rough but earnest "But with you... I think I want to find out."

Gallius smiles, though it was a subtle smile, filled with the weight of understanding.

"Then we’ll take it one step at a time," he says, the words a promise as much as they were a reassurance.

And at that moment, surrounded by the oppressive shadows of Nostramo, the Primarch of the Night Lords and the soldier of the Imperium found a rare moment of peace. Not in their pasts, not in their titles, nor in their duties, but in the simple, fragile promise of not having to fight alone anymore.

The darkness may never fully leave them, but for once, it doesn’t seem so all-consuming. Not with the weight of their shared burden. Not with the warmth of a hand to hold.

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screams-in-writing · 11 months ago

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Hehehehehehehe :)

This got longer than expected, but hey, more to read, right? A little background explanation, then there’ll be that preview of what I’ll eventually get to in the fic with mc/reader and Mr. Puzzles.

Keep in mind the fics tags/warnings of the fic since this isn’t on ao3 yet (I’ll tag some things for the post)

Also- note that what’s written here may be subject to some change once the chapters prior to it are posted (and that more edits may be done).

Context-this would be once reader and Mr puzzles are on better terms and have actually spent time together-like some of the other snippets I did where mr puzzles shows himself to be very in others space and touch starved. Like, there is interest in MC/reader yet not acted on, both trying to figure where the other stands on an unspoken friendship of around a month and a half (or two) whether it’s mixed with more since it seems a bit too fast for what little Mr. Puzzles has offered up of where he came from.

But teasing? Teasing and verbal sparring seems to be safe until it leads to a hug in the following future chapter. which would be fine for friends, but the whole hugging your friend while they’re shirtless while also checking them out a bit too closely and experiencing emotions is maybe a little past being just friends? Reverse strip tease I think? Hmu if this needs more tags. I think this is toeing the T rating even if I cut some things out.

Ok enough of me yammering. Short Mr puzzles pov, and then the mc/reader’s.

I didn’t anticipate for you to visit me at the edge of town in my pitiful, sparse home I’d claimed the first day I’d arrived.

It was a welcome distraction, however. Though, spending time with you was becoming less a distraction and more surprisingly welcome company. The only problem was that it was not good timing on your part until I belatedly recall that you’d agreed to meet me here today.

I’d even given you get a set of keys to the place after you convinced me to set locks into the small, dilapidated house if I really wanted to stay there. I highly doubted this would have been able to be done in a large city, without paying for the place. For some reason, there appeared to be pity for me here on town, and that allowed me to somehow stay here in this building for as long as I needed to.

There is a knock on the door to the chosen ‘bedroom’ but instead of reacting, I found myself frozen in place as I realized my current predicament. I had just been doing some routine maintenance with the tools this world was able to provide for me, until I heard otherwise from SMG4.

But this meant that I was not currently dressed for company. I was also so very exposed and it was nerve wracking to think of anyone seeing the upper half of my body without clothing covering it. All that was there was a black towel that I’d loosely wrapped around my neck to help me not stare at the mess my neck had become. What with all the wires underneath skin supporting my spine, and the way bits of wire and metal poked in and out of my skin without the protective layer of fabric I kept around the wires.

I completely missed the sound of a key on a lock, signaling that you’d opened the front door and locked it. With rising trepidation, I realized I’d foolishly left my door half-open right before you knocked on it. Swiftly, I crossed my arms over my chest and abdomen Thank goodness I’d finished the internal inspection a half hour prior to this moment, while I attempted to work up the nerve to do see to my his back. But that would require me to take my head off, place it behind myself on a table and contort my arms to perform the inspection, though it would be difficult without the tools I needed Smg4 to agree to get to me.

“Puzzles?” It is you. “Are you in there?”

“Yes.” I stuttered. Goodness, I was not well-prepared to be around anyone. “Do give me one moment to get myself presentable-“ My screen flashed to worry upon hearing a soft intake of breath. My shoulders hunched up as I pressed my arms tightly over my front. “I am hideous at present, my dear.” I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice, refraining from smacking the side of my head to reset it forcibly. “Just…just let me find where I put my dress shirt. I’ll cover up and-“

“You’re not hideous, Puzzles.” You tell me patiently, entering the room with slow footsteps.

I don’t quite believe it, but I feel there is sincerity in your voice. It made me relax somewhat. I even perked up when I heard curiosity next.

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like without your dress shirt on all the time.” You commented, before adding. “More so different clothing styles, but also how the heck your body is shaped that way.”

“Oh? You’ve wanted to see me without my clothes? How scandalous.” I teased, slipping more comfortably into a showman attitude to hide the very real fear of the rejection that lurked in my mind that if you saw me without a persona and the confidence as well as the unsightliness of my exposed body, you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore. That you wouldn’t want to get closer to me more than you already were, despite how desperately I wanted to spend more time with you.

“I can wait outside the room, if you’re uncomfortable with me seeing you like this. I thought you might be resting, after yesterday. Plus, you know, we’re supposed to hang out today and temporarily forget about work? Relax?”

“Relax.” I repeated dubiously, before sighing theatrically without moving my arms from their crossed position. “I do recall that being the plan now, my dear.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked again, not having taken another step toward me.

I hesitate, considering.

Usually, I never let anyone see me so vulnerable, and yet.

And yet you and I have had some rather interesting heart to heart conversations over these past few months. It wouldn’t be too bad if I let you see some of me like this? Slowly, I lower my left arm, and held it out to the side, palm up and held rather steadily, I must admit. Then, scrounging up the courage before I changed my mind, I spoke softly as a contemplative expression settled over my face. “You may…come closer, but do not look at my front, please.” I pressed my right arm across my chest nervously.

(There will be a transition of maybe a few more sentences before it switches to readers pov-so it would be technically a new chapter)

You wondered if you should insist that Mr. Puzzles didn’t have to do anything that made him this uncomfortable; hunched shoulders, leaning forward a touch, antenna poking up out of the hat twitching in what you could only presume was nerves.

And yet, he held a hand up, clearly seeking comfort because you didn’t need to hold Mr. Puzzles hand to inspect his exposed back. But this also gave you an earlier opportunity than later on to try something you’d been wanting to for at least a week. You weren’t entirely sure how he’d react, and perhaps being without clothing on his upper half might make your half-baked plan coming over here more difficult.

There was only one way to find out.

You stepped forward, watching Mr. Puzzles carefully for any other signs of discomfort, but he remained stiffly in place at the edge of the stool he was seated on. Reaching out with your own left hand, you set it on his, but after grasping it in what felt a reassuring way, he let go of you and went back to planting both arms across his chest from the way his fingertips dug into either shoulder lightly, on either side of a black bath towel wrapped around his neck.

“It’s all right.” Mr Puzzles whispered.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. You’ moved to stand behind Mr. Puzzles after he let go of your hand, momentarily marveling that even seated on a stool the top of the TV set he called a head came to the top of your shoulders while you were standing.

“You’re ridiculously tall.” You commented, dropping your gaze to beneath the towel around his neck as a low chuckle emitted from Mr. Puzzles.

“Better to oversee everyone in the cafe, no?” Amusement, and nervousness.

“Sure, and for keeping a lookout for me?” You asked casually as you inspected the way his sleek robotic arms were attached to what was left of Mr. Puzzles’ human shoulder. It didn’t look sore around the attachment area but you weren’t certain if it was normal for where he came from for skin to be colored as it was. Slightly gray from where the robotic limbs were as the color went up what was left of the shoulder and spiraled across over his left and right shoulder blades.

“I have noticed you, at times.” Mr. Puzzles said eventually, in a causal way. “Though ordinarily when you attempted to sneak up to that podcast area of yours before you so kindly invited me up to visit.”

“Like we didn’t notice you trying to eavesdrop a few times?”

“You could never prove it.” Mr. Puzzles hummed.

“Probably not. You move pretty quick for being so tall as well.”

“One of my many charms.” Mr. Puzzles said proudly.

“Running away?” You teased, thinking about the time Mr. Puzzles fled through the back door of the cafe and was gone before anyone could figure out what had happened was that his apron had been tugged at and he thought it was one of your roommates come back to get him for flirting with you.

You think it was flirting, anyway.

“Staying hidden.” Quiet. Contemplative.

That…didn’t sound like a good thing.

You stared at the back of Mr. Puzzle’s tv head, then continued roving your gaze over his back when he had nothing more to say.

Mr. Puzzles spine was…a distressingly visible bumpy line down his back all the way down to where it disappeared down his pants, the suspenders hanging off either side of the belt. There were no obvious robotic parts, just skin that was that graying color that trailed up past his waistline. Upon closer inspection, you could see what appeared to be a line of raised skin along the entire length of Mr. Puzzles spine. You glanced at the back of his head again, then stepped forward to lightly brushed a few fingers along the raised skin, drawing out an involuntarily shiver from Mr. Puzzles.

Scar tissue.

Really thick scar tissue, as if it had been repeatedly cut open and sewn shut.

“Hey, Puzzles?” You see the way his head tilts to the side, his fingers digging slightly harder into his shoulders. “Can I…give you a hug?”

A very long silence before a very slow exhale sounded.

“You may. As long as you don’t…”

“…look at your front?”

“Yes.” Quiet.

“Can I touch or-“

“I would presume so for a proper hug.”Attempted amusement poor hiding of the desperate need for touch.

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop?” You think you hear a muttered ‘would never be too much’ but couldn’t confirm as Mr. Puzzles merely straightened up and held ramrod still as if he were about to be hit instead of hugged.

That made you sad to think that he was nearly flinching as though expecting the worst despite your intentions being pretty clear with your words. Stepping forward, you lightly touch a shoulder blade, drawing forth a stronger shiver before mr puzzles practically leaned back into it. His skin was slightly cooler to the touch than when he was wearing clothes. Then, he seemed to be warmer, and you couldn’t help but wonder if whatever had been troubling him, especially this past month, might be the reason.

Mr. Puzzles uttered your name in a barely there whisper.

You take a final step and lean in, deciding first where to rest your head before carefully wrapping your arms around middle, just below where his arms crossed over his chest. It was always a surprise that you could practically touch your own sides if you wished while hugging me puzzles with how slight he was around the middle compared to his ridiculously wide set shoulders and broad chest. But you merely hold your hands over his middle and press your arms into his skin, drawing yet another shiver.

Was the temperature difference too much?

“That…feels nice.” Mr puzzles murmured appreciatively.

Ah.

He liked the sensation of you touching him, perhaps a little more than when you had grabbed his antenna and yanked them, only to, after a very long conversation, pet them at Mr puzzles request about two weeks ago. It had left him a happy puddle of static buzzing and a fast heart rate.

“This okay?”

“Mmhmm.” He sighed near dreamily.

You decided to unclasp your hands to trace your fingertips along Mr. Puzzles quivering lower abdomen. This caused him to let out a little whine of static, trembling in place as if not sure whether to press into your touch or lean against you.

When you note that Mr. Puzzles had begun to fidget you stopped, about to move your arms away when his own arms moved to clasp your hands with his own. Mr. Puzzles stayed motionless for a moment as he held your hands, before, with a little shake, settled them over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat.

And more crisscrossing of strategically placed lines of scars that reminded you too much of a cadaver in a horror game you’d played.

You focused on his heartbeat instead.

The two of you stayed in place like that for a moment before Mr. Puzzles eventually yet reluctantly relinquished his hold if your hands and dropped his own onto his lap.

He was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Where’s your shirt?” You think he might feel better if he could see you and reciprocate a hug, but for that, he would need something to put on.

A hand rose to point a digit to the left.

You step over to the dress shirt (this one gray instead of white) and walked back to drape it over his shoulders. You watched as he slipped the sleeves over his arms and just as he was about to button it up you had inspiration strike you. Stepping obviously up behind him you lean into mr puzzles back again and shooed his hands away as you began to button the dress shirt up instead.

Look at you go! All those dark morning fumbling with clothes with buttons on occasion paid off and it drew an interesting reaction from Mr. Puzzles.

“Not that I’m not flattered with this assistance but may I ask why?”

“Why not?” You respond, doing the last button right before you wrapped your arms around Mr. Puzzles again. “You look good in these clothes.”

“I do?” Uncertainty, then. “Well, of course, I do!”

You coax one of the suspended straps over Mr. Puzzles’ shoulder before he catches one of your arms.

“I do believe I am capable of dressing myself, my dear.”

“Yeah, you are, but I think you like me helping out?”

“And you deduced this how?”

“You’re letting me.” You point out as you let the other suspender strap snap over Mr. Puzzles other shoulder.

“I do suppose that is true.” Mr Puzzles began to do his freaky 180 head turn, only to stop with a full body grimace and hastily turn it back forward.

You take the opportunity to steal his bow tie that he was reaching for and step off to the side and out of ways reach of long gangly arms. You can’t help but let out a snort of amusement when Mr Puzzles gracefully spins the stool with a leg to face you. He studied you with an expression of amusement on his tv face. You wordlessly hold up the bow tie and wiggle it.

“I get up and you won’t get far.” Mr Puzzles said after a moment. The screen switched to a light smile and hooded eyes.

He was really bad at hiding his interests even if those interests were likely to scoop you up and hold you in his lap or something while he soaked up his ‘allotted cuddling’ for the day.

“Who said I was going to run?” You offer back.

Intrigue, then a slightly manic smile.

Oh, you definitely got him interested in whatever it was you had in mind.

Mr. Puzzles stood up, and slowly approached you, watching you closely as he retained eye contact. How he did that with a static expression, you weren’t sure, but it sure was impressive. In two long steps, Mr Puzzles stood before you and held out a hand with a flourish, as if expecting you to bestow upon him the bow tie.

You reach over for the step-stool nearby and make a show of climbing the two steps as though it was an arduous task, drawing an appreciative chuckle for the theatrics. You reached out with your hands, making it clear you intended to do the bowtie for him too.

Mr. Puzzles indulgently stooped while keeping his neck upright. This close to him you could hear the fuzz of the screen and the huff of laughter over you clearly struggling to get the bow tie in place.

“I guess it’s easier on the tutorial.” You eventually admit, jumping a little when Mr. Puzzles’ hands come up around yours.

“And most I assume are for one wearing the bow tie. Here.” He guided you through getting the bowtie into place, only to switch to a grin when it was done and you’d lowered your hands with his still around yours, as if Mr. Puzzles was reluctant to let go of you. He looked like he might try to pick you up despite his neck troubling him.

“Want to go to the other room?” You asked casually, as if Mr. Puzzles hadn’t just begun to pet the back of your hands with his ungloved ones while retaining a semblance of eye contact with you.

“How about a change of venue?” Mr. Puzzles asked, his tone a little deeper than before, rougher. “I think it might be more private in the dimension in my mind.”

Okay, giving him undivided attention appeared to bring out the possessiveness, so time for a diversion to defuse that, and a great time, you think, to push things a little farther to let Mr. Puzzles know you did have interest in him and were down for whatever, even if it as cuddling and handholding at this point, like he insinuated yesterday, as if it were scandalous for friends to do.

You don’t think it is, but whatever. If that was his current comfort zone you’d go with it and back off if your next words and actions went over poorly. “You have a ridiculously grabbable waist that allows a perfect angle to switch to grabbing your ass.”

“Oh?” Mr puzzles screen flicked through a series of expressions before landing on a curious eyed eke with a smirk. “How raunchy. You’re lucky we’re not on one of my sets where that’d be highly inappropriate.”

“And since we’re not on a set?” You asked with curiosity, only to nearly jump out of your skin as Mr Puzzles has managed to move in that freakishly fast way of his where he now had you up against a wall, hands on either side of your shoulders on said wall.

“I would say I’m very…interested, to see where this is going.” Mr. Puzzles carefully lowered his tv head to rest it over yours. That didn’t seem comfortable to press his screen into the wall but he wasn’t found so very hard.

You didn’t gove yourself time to think and reached out to grasp his hips.

Mr puzzles trembled in place.

“You want me to keep going?”

“wouldn’t have said I were interested if I didn’t mean you to.” Mr. Puzzles sounded oddly breathless.

“You going to be okay, big guy?” You asked. “Just touching your hips seems to have gotten you all hot and bothered.”

“Unoriginal. Use something other than ‘hot’ and ‘bothered.’ Too cliche.”

“I’ll give you cliche, ass.” And you promptly tugged him forward to grab said ass. His stupid, stupid backside that should not fit his lanky, weirdly built body.

Mr. Puzzles hands pressed harder into the wall.

“Any requests?” You asked, as if you weren’t just kneading him through his pants and making him shake.

“Perhaps it is a bit too much?” Mr. Puzzles gasped out. It sounded like his screen was flashing through a lot of pictures and faces.

You stop, only for him to let out a frustrated whine.

“I didn’t mean for you to actually stop.”

You frown up at Mr. Puzzles, take in the pointed not looking at you as he kept his screen pressed to the wall, and then glance down. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“We can stop.”

“No, please continue.”

“We’re going to have another talk okay? Like we did about your antenna.”

A hum of agreement and then a desperate, softly uttered ‘please’.

“This is okay, what we’re doing right now?” You asked again, wanting to make sure he wasn’t just stuck in the touch starved sensation where anything felt nice.

“Yes, yes it is.” A little snappish as the tv head leaned back for Mr. Puzzles to presumably eye you. “Do your worst. I am perfectly fine with where this is headed.”

“Okay, here goes.” You set one hand lightly on his hip while you followed the urge to give his ass a final slap through the pants that made Mr. Puzzles give a high-pitched yelp of surprise, as if not entirely expecting that.

He sank to the floor on his knees with a flushed expression flashing across his face. Mr. Puzzles buried his screen into his hands, but you catch a glimpse of the screen that showed off blushing, a small technicolor smile and a set of eyes set off to one side away from where you stood.

You decide to let Mr. Puzzles have some dignity while he gathered himself, but you can’t help leaning over pat his head, since it was easier to access when he was crouched or kneeling. The whisper of ‘good boy’ came out unbidden when you pet the side of his screen and an antenna, half-thinking he’d bat your hand away and scoff at you. You did not expect the noise Mr Puzzles made as he sank entirely to the floor, curling up and pressing his hands into his tv face harder as his expression burned bright, his facsimile eyes on you this time, like he was seeing you in a new light and was very, very curious.

Wow.

Okay.

You knew Mr. Puzzles liked praise with that ego of his, but this flustered demeanor was new compared to the awkwardness of trying to strike up conversation with you in the first week of being here in the world.

#smg4 mr puzzles x reader #reader x #mr puzzles smg4 #fic snippet #fic chapter really #teasing #suggestive content #body horrow cw #body image issues #Some hurt/comfort #Before the tone changes #touchy feely #mr puzzles likes the attention

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dynamightsfave · 6 months ago

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jude duarte—trust

the pinks and oranges of sunrise adorn the horizon’s sky as i make my way back. i’m still not used to seeing the day begin and end. back in faerie, in elfhame, i only ever saw sunrise, i was never much of an early riser, so sunset was a rare sight for me. even so, this sunrise is different to those back there. i cannot explain why though, it may very well be the fact that the people around me are getting ready for work rather than for bed, or the fact that it seems to be brighter, unhidden by the shadows of the mortal world, as this is the mortal world.

who would’ve told. young lady of one of the lower courts, used to the finer life at the palace, living like an ordinary mortal. one that has a night shift at the local seven eleven—a “restaurant”, where they serve some kind of “fast food”, which i have to admit, is far better than some of the things i’ve tried at banquets before—and goes grocery shopping and wears jeans and pays rent. no one to do things for me as i ask, no magic used between one thing and another, sweeping floors, like a servant.

it sounds worse than it is, really.

sometimes i wonder if i did the right thing leaving elfhame. i know my father doesn’t think so, i saw it in his face when i took the first step. but what does he care for me anyway, if in the end i wouldn’t have been able to secure him an actual position of power in the higher courts, the only thing he’s ever wanted me for. still, i don’t feel like a failure. for the first time in my whole life, i do not feel like i owe anybody anything, like i am being watched, having to keep an eye open for a predator. nobody expects anything from me in the mortal world, and it’s liberating.

i like it here, i’ve decided. maine is a good place to be in. until jude finds a way back to faerie anyway. and she will, no matter how done with the crown she tells me she is. she’s trying to convince herself of that, a pathetic little attempt if i do say so myself, but it keeps her going, and if we want to make ends meet, then she can attempt as many times as she likes.

vivi’s—or heather’s, more like—apartment comes into view, and i can already feel the poor wonderful bed that’s awaiting me. i want to sleep today off; tonight’s shift was full of idiots that really should not be allowed outside. and where i’m from people revel in their birthday suits.

however, i am met with a limping jude trying to get away, and before i can ask her what happened, a copy of her runs out from our entrance, gowns similar to the ones i once wore myself adorning her figure. taryn.

when i hear her ask jude about her condition, i’m not sure i want to laugh, ignore her and try for answers myself, or if i should outright step down from my piece of wood with wheels transport and slam it on her head.

jude ignores her, so i choose to meet her in the middle. she lets me hold her in place for a second, before she takes my hand and keeps going.

"i need your help," at that, i do laugh. taryn gives me a glare, one i return with pleasure.

"no," the other twin says.

we keep going, until she gets in our way, but i don’t hesitate to push her shoulder to let us through. fuck her and her stupid big ass gown.

"jude, just hear me out," before she can answer again, i growl.

"no. like absolute hell"

but she doesn’t look at me, she just stops her sister, eyes desperately looking for hers.

"locke is dead. i killed him"

"good," comes out of my mouth before i can stop myself.

"i am trying to talk to jude," she finally snaps, glare intensifying.

"and i am trying to hold my murderous desires towards you at bay, but it seems we’re both failing at our intents," i bark back. my free hand digs into her shoulder again, stepping into her space and covering jude with my body, "jude isn’t going to help you with whatever you need, you do not get that. you used her, twice. once because you were jealous and desperate enough to lower yourself for a piece of attention from someone you’ve now killed. pathetic," i spit, frown deepening in a way my mother would’ve chastised me for before, "and then you used her position to betray the kingdom you’d worked oh so very hard to fit into? you’re a two faced bitch that only thinks of herself, taryn. the fact that you had the audacity of coming here to ask favors proves just that. so no, jude will not help you, and she will not hear you out. she needs to get that injury checked," i decide our best bet is to go back to the apartment, and jude says nothing as i turn us around and drag her back inside and to the bathroom.

i help her undress, careful with the stained cloth stuck to her side. i don’t ask questions; i know her jobs can get odd, and just like in faerie, there’s danger in odd. her eyes are dozed off, a glazed look over them. i sigh.

"no, jude," i chastise, "she doesn’t deserve you to hear her out. so stop thinking about it. if she’s still here by the time we’re out, i’ll send her back to elfhame myself"

"she killed her husband," she tells me, voice merely a mutter, still not here.

"her husband was locke," i deadpan, "if anything, she just took the opportunity out of our hands," i try to humor. but she just hums.

i grab the organic soap vivi buys and rub it on her side, washing the dried blood away. then, i rinse it all and turn for her hair. we don’t say much. if i know her, and i do, she’ll hear taryn out, no matter what i say.

"she doesn’t deserve you," i say again, washing my hands in the water when i’m done. i let myself slump next to the tub, "and i’m glad locke is dead, one way or another. he was an asshole"

"yeah, but why would she do it?"

"who cares? she did it, about time. you’ll not help her with it"

"i’m not being fooled, if that’s what you’re worrying about," she grumbles.

"jude," i sigh once more, and stare at her face, even if she won’t look back at me, "i’m not worried about that. i just hate her being here, asking for help like she’s done nothing. she always gets what she wants. i know you like to act like you know who to trust, but you’re just like me, you trust easily. we’ve led with our emotions, and look where that’s gotten us"

"you didn’t have to follow me here," she rebuts.

"that’s not what i meant"

there’s a pause. her head falls forward, gaze losing down at the tub, playing with the water.

"i know. i’m sorry"

"we’ve trusted her twice before, you because she’s your sister and i because i trust you. she’s used you both those times," i stress, my voice low in an effort to seem calm, "she doesn’t get to appear out of nowhere and ask for help because she killed her husband. and need i remind you, we can’t return ho- to faerie"

jude ponders over my words. my slip is obvious, but i don’t try to hide it. we’ve been avoiding calling elfhame our home, it makes things easier. but when the king you once let yourself trust for a moment uses you, suddenly home doesn’t feel welcoming. and here we are now, a queen without a kingdom and a lady that refused to be reduced to a consort.

"why did you do it?" she asks this time. we’ve been avoiding that question as well. her gaze lifts up to me as mine lowers to my hands.

i let my fingers dance with each other for a few seconds, wondering what the best way to answer it might be. i’ve run through the list of them a thousand times, but how does one explain an unconscious action? the reflex to lose everything just so they don’t lose that one person. again.

"because against everything you’ve proved everyone else, i trust you with my life, jude duarte," i confess, "and i love you"

"you loved cardan too," she notes, "he seemed to love you as well"

"and yet he made you his queen"

it’s funny, how a person can fall in love with several and not be able to stop any of it. i never meant to fall for the high king, as i’m sure jude didn’t either, the same way i never mean to fall for his seneschal. i don’t know how or when it happened, all i know is that as resented as i am with the boy, i still ache for him just as much as i ache for the girl in front of me. and i know neither fell that way for me, too consumed in each other to notice anyone else.

"i’ll wait outside"

jude says nothing as i let myself out.

#jurdan #jurdan x reader #jude x cardan x reader #jude x reader #angst #cardan x reader #unrequited love #queen of nothing

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zinnialastia · 5 months ago

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Hello! This is my very first post in Tumblr as an artist! ^^ ☺️

Allow me to introduce myself a little to start off!

~~~~

Name: ZiendyEndy/Zinnia/(any nickname adjacant to it. Anything as long as not insulting pfft)

Age: 19 years old >:DD

Pronouns: She/Her (I'm a cis girlie lol)

Nationality: Filipino! 🇵🇭

Fandoms: (I'm in a LOT but will only list those I am the most active in as of now ^^ Fandom hopper moment lol) Identity V, Cookie Run, Resident Evil, Poppy Playtime, Little Nightmares, Five Nights at Freddy's, Demon Slayer and Genshin Impact (There is more but I forgor)

Likes: Sweet food, Color purple/pink/red/yellow/blue, Filipino Spaghetti/Adobo muehehe, Drawing, Singing, Reading, Writing, Nice/Casual/Open-minded/Understanding and kind people, OC x Canon, Canon x Canon, AMAZING ARTS HUAAA 🌺✨️🎀

Dislikes: Roaches, People that are mean for no reason or just for ulterior motives >:((, AI "ART" NUH-UH (If you proclaim yourself as an "artist" when you use AI to generate them, pls DNI!!🚫 This also goes for stealers and impersonators!), PROBLEMATIC shippers/people (yknow those CERTAIN types ;;), Unnecessary Drama (I like resolving things in a civil and mature manner. Most definitely in private and in a passive way too if should there be any conflict and wrongdoings needing addressing.)

~~~~

Additional Info:

-As a college student, I won't be ALWAYS online to frequently post due to lack of motivation and time. I am also adjacant in posting/sharing ⚠️Vents/Gore/Blood/Nudity/NSFW⚠️ art as well so please beware if you are a MINOR or SOMEONE UNCOMFY WITH NSFW! Don't worry, I will make sure to put warnings beforehand and would censor thumbnails (I'm still gonna figure out how Tumblr works right now since this my first time using the app fkwjdks) I'm mostly wholesome and just casually friendly so please do make my page a safe space if ya'll also wanna vent or share stuff pfft I'm comfy with anything as long as there is consent. ^^ I'm a chill gal.

⚠️➡️✨️ If comes a time I may have done something wrong may it be unintentionally/without my knowledge, please don't be scared to point it out to me/talk to me directly and I will GLADLY listen and talk it out with you in a civil and kind manner. :DD Just be kind and respectful about it and I will try to make a way to fix it for all parties involved. Thank you for your kind understanding! Please don't feel afraid to reach out to me with anything in general. 🫂❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

~~~~

That's all for now! Have this drawing of Zinnia Dragon Cookie! The Rosy Feathery Dragon of The Ornamental Hills! (And is Pitaya Dragon Cookie's Wife muehehehehehe yes Oc x Canon I'm obsessed with them sm sm sm ack— *dies*)💖💗💐🌷💓

I hope I give everyone a good first impression and build a good image and have fun with ya'll! Nice to meet you!! 🥰😊

#tumblr fyp #fypage #fyp #fypシ #fypツ #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #identity v #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #digital artist #small artist #oc artist #oc art #oc artwork

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lovepotionsandlust · 1 year ago

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Part 3:

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT, 18+ ONLY. MDNI

if you prefer not to read smut or are under 18, pt 4 will be posted directly after and the story can be read without this chapter. enjoy

He released a shaky breath as you reached down to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. Before he could say anything, you raised your hand to stop him. “this does not mean I am inviting you to crawl in bed with me, but I am inciting you to see where this can go. We have a few days before my family returns. You do not need to stay the entire time, but you are more than welcome to. If… if you leave right now.” A deep breath was needed to figure out exactly how to express what you were feeling. “if you leave right now, I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for ignoring every magnetic force I can feel pulling me to you.”

He brushed his thumb against yours simply nodding.

“Freddie, the only thing I want from you, is the opportunity to get to know you better.”

With this he kissed you again, only this time it was different. Slower and filled with more tenderness. His hands found your hips pulling them flush to his own. You gently sucked his bottom lip between your teeth pulling away slightly. A deep groan vibrated from his chest. Grabbing his hand you backed your way up the stairs. He followed eagerly maintaining eye contact until you backed into the door. Turning away only to unlock the door, pulling him in with you.

Kicking your shoes off, removing your jacket and your hat, your head was spinning. He followed you to the farthest back bedroom. Warm fair lights lit the room aglow. As an only child, you were gifted the largest room Freddie had ever seen. He took in his surroundings, how unbelievably you the space was. Pictures of you with your friends and family littered the top of your dresser. Letters from pen pals pinned to your walls. He stepped closer reading some of the lines, trying to decipher the different languages from far away family. Books lined the windowsill, clearly loved as the bindings looked worn. The entire room smelled like you, the plush carpeting felt like heaven beneath his feet.

You sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, watching him explore the space. After a few quiet moments you decided to break the silence.

“Finding anything interesting over there?” He nodded, turning to you. Smiling softly as he crossed the distance between you.

He quietly sat next to you, moving to lay his head in your lap. Running your fingers through his hair, you watched how his entire body seemed to relax. You could sense how badly he seemed to crave this. Flicking your wand toward the record player in the corner, the music filled the space softly. Allowing him time to adjust to his surroundings, you hummed along to yourself.

“Freddie?”

“Yes?”

“Are you ok down there?”

He smiled, nodding in your lap “never better.” He sighed, closing his eyes, furrowing his brow. “It’s just, everything has been so tense lately. I hate having to always defend myself at home. Umbridge was really hurting those first and second years. I could not just stand by and watch any more. George seems to be the only one who understands. We had to protect them.”

You brushed his hair back, listening intently. He then rolled on his back to look up at you.

“Percy even made the accusation that I did all of this to impress that group of girls.” He huffs. “Can you believe that? I would toss my academic career for girls? Or even popularity? Those kids needed us to do something.”

You let out a quick gasp, covering your mouth in shock. He raised an eyebrow looking at you confused.

“So, you are trying to tell me, that you did not do all of that just to impress me? I thought we had something special. I think you may have to leave.” Looking down at him seriously, concern flashing across his face. You couldn’t hold your composure anymore letting out a laugh.

“Well, it did get me into your bedroom now didn’t it? Me, Fred Weasley, in your bedroom.”

“Wait… you’re not George? Well, this is just Awkward…” you trailed off.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that one.” With one swift move he pulled you onto your back crawling above you, pinning your hands on either side of your head. “Take it back, I am warning you.”

“Really? Or what Weasley? What are you going to do? You don’t scare me.” You kept your eyes locked on his. Trying to not let him see how much you were enjoying this. His eyes searched your face, reading you easily.

“Are you enjoying this?” He smirked down at you. Wrapping your leg around his waist you pulled him in closer. His breath hitched, his hips involuntarily pushing forward to meet yours.

“Doesn’t look like I am the only one.” You smiled up at him, then leaning down closer to your face, he brushed his nose against yours. Leaning up to meet his lips he decided to pull back, prompting you to chase his lips.

“Patience darling, patience” he stated.

Brushing your hair to the side, he began leaving slow, wet kisses down the side of your neck. Only stopping when he felt your shudder. Biting down gently, he began sucking on the sensitive skin. Allowing a soft moan to leave your lips, egging him on, he then slid his tongue against your pulse point. You could feel the bruise forming, but you did not care.

He pulled back taking a moment to check his work, his eyes flashed up to yours. His pupils were nearly blown with desire. Quickly he kissed you, hard. Your tongue ran over his bottom lip awaiting access. Opening his mouth more you rolled your tongue against his. He finally released his hold on your wrists to interlock his fingers with his, keeping your hands pinned above your head.

He pushed his hips into you harder. You could feel his erection growing harder on your inner thigh. Your eyes rolled back at the heavy length, even through his jeans you could feel that you were in for a challenge. Griding your hips upwards to meet his, he pulled away from the kiss.

“look at you darling.” He released one of your hands, tracing his fingertips lightly over your newly formed mark. “all mine for the taking, weak beneath my touch, awaiting my every move.” He smirked, feeling confident in how your body was reacting to his.

He didn’t think this was going to be that easy, did he? Using the leverage of your legs you quickly rolled the two of you. Now pinning his hands without trouble at his sides. Staring up at you speechless, he froze.

"Sweet boy, just remember who said they needed who.” A low whimper left him hearing the new nickname.

Sliding down his body, his eyes stayed locked on you. Kissing his stomach, your hand found his zipper, undoing his pants promptly. He lifted his hips helping you pull them down his thighs. Your palm finding his hard cock over his boxers, the contact and pressure enough to cause him to let his head drop back for only a moment.

“keep those pretty eyes on me Freddie.” He raised his head back to look at you.

“I need to hear you say it, tell me how much you need it.” Tracing your fingers playfully in the waistband of his boxers you paused awaiting his response.

“Please baby, I need you so badly. I have been so good. Please put me in your beautiful mouth.”

Your thighs tightened together, desperate for relief. You pushed the waistband lower until his cock sprang free landing on his stomach, precum dripping from the tip. Pressing your tongue flat against the underside, you slowly licked and sucked your way to the sensitive tip. Taking it in your mouth, you wrapped your tongue around it. Lapping up all of the salty, sweet taste that he had to offer. Struggling to fit his full length in your mouth, you bobbed your head slowly, pushing yourself to push all of him into your throat. Above you a louder whimper released, shooting your eyes up to him. The expression on his face told you everything you needed to know.

“Don’t look at me like that with my cock in your mouth. I don’t want to cum yet.”

Pulling off of him, you pumped his length in your hand. “Did I say you could cum yet? You better ask me first Sweet boy.”

The name returning once again caused his brown to furrow, and him to bite down on his bottom lip, suppressing a moan. He nodded down at you, attempting to control his breathing. Sucking the swollen tip back into your mouth, his hands found your hair. Pulling it into his hand and out of your face, using the handful to guide your movements. He over took all of your senses, the delicious pull of your hair, the sounds he was making above you, the way he tasted.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you stood pulling your jeans off. Kicking them to the side. His eyes trailed over your body taking it all in as if this was the last sight he ever would see.

“No panties? You dirty girl.” He smirked up at you.

Crawling back over him, you leaned down to his ear, whispering softly, “you don’t know the half of it.”

Without warning you sank down taking his full length in one smooth motion. The stretch of his size had you feeling fuller than you had ever felt before.

His hands gripped your hips so tightly you were convinced you would have bruises of his fingers left behind. His head dropping to the floor, eyes rolling back.

“Ffffuuck! You have got to warn me before you do that if you don’t want me to cum yet.”

Slowly you began rocking your hips, not allowing yourself time to adjust to his size. As you gained speed, the sounds you were making were pure euphoria to him. He was trying to memorize every breathy moan that escaped you. His hands assisting your hips to find a perfect rhythm, pushing you both further into becoming undone.

“Freddie you feel so good.”

“Please, can I move?” The desperation in his eyes was near pathetic, you nodded giving him permission to take over.

His long arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush with his chest. He began fucking up into you with a speed and force you were not prepared for. Your hands found his hair, pulling it, causing him to release another moan into your ear. Quickly your orgasm was approaching in strong waves.

With a low growl he whispered, “I feel you clamping down on my cock. Use me baby, give me that sweet release.” His tone deepened “Give it to me now.” Sliding his hand between you his fingers met your clit, adding a delicious amount of pressure.

With that it your orgasm began crashing down. Vision blurring, and your legs shaking, he was not letting up; continuing to plow up into you. As you came back you to Earth, you could hear his voice pleading, “please let me cum.”

All you could do at this point was nod weakly, his hips began to flex erratically. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer over and over as he came. He filled you up pushing himself as deep as he could manage. His hips came to a stop, leaving you both to lie there, his tight grip on you refusing to release.

“Don’t get up just yet,” he said breathlessly “I just want to enjoy this a while more.”

Nodding you rest your head on his chest, remained there entangled within each other’s limbs. After some time you slowly lifted off of him, causing you both to groan at the over stimulation. You fell to his side, knowing full well your legs would not work in this moment. He pulled you in close resting his chin on the top of your head. You listened to his heart rate slow back to a more normal rate and his breathing regulated. His eyes started to close, letting the exhaustion take over.

“Freddie, lets get up off of the floor.”

He nodded in agreement, standing himself up. He extended his hands, assisting you to your feet.

***

Curling up under the blankets you felt your muscles relax as you melted into the mattress. Placing a kiss on your forehead, you felt him pull away.

“Where are you going?”

“I believe the invitation was to sleep on your couch.” He shrugged.

Reaching up you grabbed his arm, pulling him into the bed with you. With a weak chuckle he spooned up behind you, holding you close to him. Leaving a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, causing goosebumps to raise across your skin.

“Careful now Weasley, this is how we got into this mess the first time.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasly x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson comfort #fredweasley smut #weasley fanfic #fanfiction

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hyperbolicreverie · 1 year ago

Note

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

And

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

All right, I got three requests for the first one and two for the second so I will give the respective number of answers for each. It's only fair.

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing…

When Law is accepted as a new Warlord, Sengoku takes the opportunity, having figured out exactly who Law is, to try and talk to him about Rosinante. Unfortunately Garp, who is not as dumb as he seems, has put two and two together and wants to Have Words with his friend about his hypocrisy regarding wayward family members. Law does not want to be there for this conversation.

2. Post-Dressrosa, on a brief stop because you cannot tell me there is anything close to adequate medical care aboard the Going Luffy, Law and Luffy have an unexpectedly emotional conversation. (This one is all about the similarities between Law and Lami and Ace and Luffy, and it is, to date, my oldest unfinished WIP. I will definitely finish it someday, but I want to get it right).

3. Something goes a little differently, and Tsuru finds Rosinante on Minion Island before he dies. This results in Law (and Bepo, Shachi and Penguin) being eventually located after he wakes up, and them all getting a nice reunion back at Navy HQ. Except...Law is marked for death twice over, there's still a spy in the Marines, and if several higher ups find out what Rosinante did, they'd all be on the chopping block, so they have to lie low until Rosinante is healthy enough for Sengoku to get them out of dodge. (This one will feature a chess game between Law and Sengoku because I say so).

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I may eventually write something for these, but I've promised myself, after the brief stint where I was writing Losing Time and Crown of Flowers simultaneously, that I will allows myself ONE chaptered fic at a time. It gets exhausting, otherwise.

A cyberpunk AU--I think you could have a lot of fun with the idea of devil fruits and haki re-imagined as cybernetic augmentations, and I think the general themes of cyberpunk literature align very well with the One Piece world--corrupt governments, street gangs, information as both forbidden and powerful.

A space AU--Space seems like the perfect setting to explore the vastness of the One Piece world, with different planets as different islands, the different sentient species, the ships--and if you want to hear an excellent 'Straw Hat Pirates but in Space' song, I highly recommend Man the Cannons by Galactikraken.

#rev speaks

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youdontlookautistic · 9 months ago

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Current stage of being fresh no contact with my family:

Oh shit. It really is just me.

This may sound weird, especially after the fact I'm the one who has had to go no contact after my family repeatedly ignored me and my boundaries I'd set.

But cutting, like, four people out of your life that's always just 'been there' even if you only saw them once or twice a year. Two of those four I spoke to on the daily.

I realise that apart from my two closest friends, one being my housemate, I don't have anyone else. And that's sort of intentional because being autistic makes it really hard to maintain a lot of good, consistent friendships. Especially when shit hits the fan and I don't have energy for anything but shutting down.

I'm single, by choice, because I don't feel like I'm in a good or healthy enough space in my self to be available for a relationship. A relationship requires giving, and experiencing what legitimately feels like a rebirth, realising I had no fucking idea who I was my entire life, well I want to give to myself for the first time. I want to make myself the priority.

But these factors, as well as my disability with being unable to do executive tasks, mainly the ones that need me to meet new people or book things, it all leads to me being here alone.

I don't blame anyone for it. It just is. But it hurts.

It hurts realising I'm back to feeling like I did when I was homeless. When I knew there were things I needed to do to get myself back on my feet, and I also knew deep in my core I couldn't. But it was just me, my family expected me to go out and get more hours at work and support myself. Even at my lowest, they couldn't see. So it was just me, I had to try and figure it all out.

Before I knew I was autistic, I didn't know how else to explain it. It's like an invisible, impenetrable wall appears between you and that thing, and mentally, physically and emotionally stops you from doing it. Even if you want to do it, it doesn't matter. There is an invisible straight jacket that's got you, and the only thing you can do is try and get as much done with it on.

And yes, I can do those things. Much like a person with no legs, no support and no wheelchair can get from one side of a hall to the other. I can do it. It feels physically and mentally and emotionally painful for me to do, and it exhausts me even just thinking about it.

I hate feeling helpless and out of control. I hate feeling like my survival is based upon the compassion and empathy of others, and not just on me being allowed to be me.

#Disability is an ass #disability #disabled #late diagnosed adhd #late diagnosed autistic #no contact #audhd #actually autistic #autistic things #autistic #autism #neurodivergent #adhd

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maridiayachtclub · 1 year ago

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that reblog about an inhospitable dungeon sorta highlights one of the areas in which i myself feel the biggest divide with youth culture: the idea of TTRPGs primarily as a space for exploring emotionally complex stories about specific kinds of characters engaging in specific sorts of tropes. like they always had that capacity, but i feel like a lot of the people that got into the hobby in the 5E, critical role era think of TTRPGs as a storytelling medium first and a game second. which, that was kind of how things were set up, i guess. "the dice are there to tell a story" has been the line for decades and all. but now it feels like there is an expectation for personal narrative arcs, and that the campaign's primary purpose is to explore and complete those arcs; all mechanics and gameplay are in support of that goal.

i don't mind that mode of gaming, it can be fun. there's a place for it in the hobby and lots of people that enjoy it. i don't know how well-suited i am to like, facilitating it, though. it's not like i actually play a lot of games with strangers, and i'd never run a game for someone i didn't feel like i had a good fit with. but if there's "make up a guy to get mad about," there's also "make up a guy to have awkward interactions with." for me it's someone i saw making a post here that went something like this: "Oh, D&D? You mean group therapy with all my gay friends?!"

like I say "I wanna run D&D," and what I mean is "I wanna describe rooms in a dungeon and cool monsters and traps and treasure chests and have my players figure out how to defeat the Evil Wizard," and what some other people (a threatening, undefined Them) hear is "I'm gonna have all my fantasies fulfilled! I get to make up a blorbo and the GM will tell a story about them and give them a romantic sideplot and an opportunity to work through all their trauma and it'll be just like my podcasts~!"

what if someone like that shows up at my table? shit's gonna be awkward. i didn't sign up for that, but isn't that what a lot of people think is the DM's job? this isn't entirely based on speculation, either; i've had conflict with a player that felt like their storytelling expectations were not being met by the game on the table before them. it wasn't "this isn't gay enough for me," but there was a clear mismatch in expectations and it made things rough. (Thankfully, this was just a one-shot thing meant to see if a group of players got along well, so. we certainly got an answer to that!)

there's something Matt Colville said in one of his videos a few years back, about how his players characterized him as an "old school" dungeon master, and how he was trying to understand what that meant for him. i'm paraphrasing, but the answer he came up with is that, as a DM, he was only concerned with the external growth of characters. his adventures provided things for the characters to deal with and react to, and the experience and gold that allowed them to make their numbers go up and expand their worldly holdings, but it was up to the players to make a personal narrative out of their characters' experiences. i liked this interpretation; that felt like a good compromise. it is not up to the game world to provide meaning, or inspiration, or closure; you gotta find those things yourself. which you can; we gotta do that shit in the real world all the time, after all.

(disclaimer: i am just talking about -my games- that i want to and may end up running. this isn't telling anybody what they can or should do in their games. i don't feel like this sort of thing should be necessary, for a post on my blog voicing my insecurities about my relationship with the hobby at large, but i've seen the discourse! i have seen just how bad the faith can get!)

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badwritinghabit · 2 years ago

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Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 2

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Ao3

Warnings: grief, yelling, language, disordered eating, cancer diagnosis, smoking

Word Count: 3,110

Summary: Sophie helps Marcus and Carmy at The Beef. Carmy and Sophie have a heart to heart.

Sophie found herself in Carmy’s kitchen not long after her first time at The Beef. He had called her and said he’d get his chef, Marcus, to prepare his chocolate cake for her to try. She had been looking forward to it. Most of her time in Chicago had been split between either helping watch her nieces or attending doctor’s appointments with her sister. She had spent very little time doing anything else.

Her one week run as guest chef at Ever had been a good break, allowing her to have space to focus on something physical and immediate. She had been having trouble with that lately. Her sister’s cancer diagnosis had thrown her for such a loop that she was still figuring out how to sit with herself and not panic. ‘Every Second Counts’. Chef Terry’s philosophy had stuck with her. It was pressure and relief at the same time. She wanted to take the chance to spend as much time as she could with her sister. While her sister’s prognosis was good, there was still the fear that something would go wrong. She was in Chicago for a reason. But she knew she needed to get a grip on the time she spent away from her sister too. Every second counts and she didn’t want to let time pass with nothing to show for it.

“Good morning,” Sophie said with a smile as she walked into the kitchen at the Beef. Carmy was already waiting for her, next to a tall man with a bright smile and a beanie.

“Good morning, chef. This is Marcus.” Carmy gestured to her. “Sophie.”

“Hello, chef,” Marcus greeted her warmly, holding a hand out to shake. She shook his hand with a grin. “Thank you for offering to help. This is my first try at desserts,” he said eagerly.

“First try?” she asked, looking to Carmy in surprise. He nodded and she became even more curious.

“I am excited to try your cake,” Sophie responded directly to Marcus. Marcus brought out a plated slice and slid it over to her. Then handed her a fork.

“It certainly looks good.” She took a bite. “Holy camoley,” she gasped. Carmy chuckled at her word choice. But she was staring wide eyed at Marcus. “This is your first dessert? Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling timidly.

“You didn’t ask me here to give a critique at all, did you? You just wanted to flex that you hired a talented pâtissier.” She narrowed her eyes at Carmy before taking another careful bite.

He grinned at her enthusiasm. “I brought you here to support an up and coming talent.”

Marcus was smiling still, cheeks redder as she kept complimenting him.

“OK let’s talk about what you like and don’t like about it,” she started as she set the fork down. “I’m assuming you hope to make more desserts as well? We can talk about those too.”

“Yes, we’re open to adding other desserts,” Carmy chimed in when Marcus hesitated.

“Great. I’ll work with Marcus, you can shoo,” she said to Carmy who shook his head but walked off anyway.

“I usually work in this room.” Marcus directed her towards his workspace. She looked around at all of the pictures he had on the wall until her eyes landed on one of hers.

“Is that–?” she asked, gesturing towards a picture of the raspberry chocolate cake she had served at Ivy Green in San Diego. She was surprised to see it there.

“Yeah, actually, Chef pointed it out to me. Told me that it was yours when he said you would be coming to help me. I just thought it was beautiful. And the recipe was simple. Not in a bad way. But in a way that made me want to try it myself.”

She smiled at him. “Well thank you.” She was touched. She had never quite gotten used to being recognized and it took her by surprise. The compliment being from someone who worked with Carmy may have made it mean more too, if she spent time thinking about it.

“I have some ideas for your cake. But I’d like to hear what you think. Is there anything you want to change or anything you would like to test out with the recipe?” she asked, getting down to business.

“I want to add something bright. Fruit. Your raspberry ganache is so good, I want to make something like that for my cake.”

She nodded. “What are you thinking so far?” She watched as he brought out his notes.

“Orange? I love chocolate oranges.”

“I really like that idea. You could try adding some orange zest. It brings out the bright citrus taste,” she added excitedly. She went over his recipe with him and made a few suggestions, things he might want to try to play with the texture and flavor.

The two spent a while talking over Marcus’s next dream project, donuts. She warned him they would be tricky but he was skilled and she was certain he would be up to the task.

Time flew by and suddenly Carmy strolled in again. “Sorry to rush you but it is almost time to get started on prep for the day.” He was in chef mode, no more fun and games. He walked out after nodding to Sophie.

“It was lovely meeting you, Marcus. I’ll be in Chicago for a while so if you need a taste tester or any other advice, please reach out,” she gave him her number.

“Thank you so much. I’ll definitely do that.” He smiled. “Also,” he started and stopped and then started again. “Just thought you should know, Carmy doesn’t usually act like that. Laugh like that, I mean.”

She tilted her head.

Marcus shrugged. “Just an observation,” he said with a little grin.

She jumped when Carmy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Sophie, could I talk to you for a second?” he asked her, sounding urgent.

“Yeah of course.” She followed him out of the room and over to his office. They passed a few people and she smiled at them, nodding as she walked through, trying to make sure she stayed out of their way as they passed.

“One of my chefs called out, last minute emergency. We're already down one. And with Tina out." His hand went to his hair and he grimaced. "I promised a friend of Richie's we'd do catering for a party this afternoon. So we're fucked." Carmy was looking at her again.

"You need help?" she asked. When he nodded grimly she smiled, trying not to show her own lack of confidence. "Of course. I can jump in today."

“Fuck, thank you,” he exhaled a sound of relief.

“Where do you want me?”

“Start prepping the sauce. I’ll show you where we have the recipes.” He led her to the kitchen, grabbing her an apron on the way.

She wrapped it around herself, tying the knot quickly. Something about the routine of putting on an apron brought her right back to New York. She remembered a chef that she and Carmy worked with who had a whole routine he’d do every time he stepped up to his station. She did one of his stretches, smirking to herself.

“Ready chef?” Carmy asked, the tension in his shoulders seemed to have lessened just a little. He was in on the joke.

“Born ready,” she said, adapting the boastful voice of their old colleague. He shook his head at her, an almost imperceptible twitch of his mouth. Things hadn’t changed completely between them.

---

Things were going smoothly until they weren’t. Sophie still had the muscle memory from the thousands of hours she’d spent in the kitchen. She found she got along very well with Sydney. Carmy’s chef was extremely talented and surprisingly kind. She was quick to help her figure out what needed to be done and where to find anything she needed.

Syd, Carmy, and she got into a good rhythm for a while and Sophie felt fairly at ease with the group, even with the tension of working in an understaffed and busy kitchen. But then they ran out of bread.

And Carmy was furious.

The tension had been building, but she hadn’t expected it when he finally burst. He slammed a tray down onto the table and yelled at Marcus to start more. Of course, that wouldn’t be a quick fix.

“Should we go buy bread somewhere?” Sophie asked.

Carmy turned his glare to her and she felt her shoulders straighten in defiance, recognizing his anger immediately. He had been the chef de cuisine at Eleven Madison Park and while she didn’t remember him as being particularly angry– he was nowhere near as abusive as some of the chefs she had worked for– he slipped into it sometimes.

“What the fuck are you thinking? We can’t buy bread! We’ve always used– Are you listening to me?" he yelled, leaning forward towards her. She had been lost in thought, thinking of the bakery she had stopped at nearby and the delicious cookie she had gotten from them. She tried to remember what sorts of bread they had. She was fairly certain she had seen some crusty rolls, hoagie rolls, and longer softer sub rolls.

His yelling usually didn’t faze her. But she felt a little off her game, palms sweaty and heart pounding. She wanted to help, not make things worse. “I am listening, chef. We either ask the catering job to accept food late or we go get more bread. There’s a bakery not too far, I could go see if they have bread,” she offered, trying to keep her voice calm and strong.

“It’s a good idea. We talked about sourcing the bread soon anyway,” Syd chimed in quietly, still cooking.

“Fuck it. Fine. Call Richie though. Check with him.” Carmy shoved the tray away from him, causing it to slide and clamber against the wall making Sophie flinch. Syd reached over and squeezed her arm, looking concerned.

“I’ll call Richie.. Do you have his number?” Sophie asked. She ended up getting Richie’s number from Fak and she quickly walked to an out of the way corner and called him.

“Wisconsin Sophie? How the fuck did you get this number?” Richie laughed through the phone. His demeanor instantly calmed her nerves.

“I know a guy,” she joked. “Look, this catering job. How do you think they’d feel about some rolls being replaced from the bakery down the street?” she asked tentatively.

“You out of bread?” Richie asked.

“Yeah. Carmen isn’t thrilled with the idea of buying it but he said I could check with you.”

“Carmen got angry? Sorry Sophie. Ever since Mike’s been gone, Carm has been having a hard time.” He paused and Sophie considered asking about Mikey but decided against it. Her heart sank thinking about what Carmy must be feeling, having the restaurant he so desperately wanted without his brother.

He continued, “Yeah I think it’d be fine. A couple of these guys go crazy for the crusty rolls at Frank’s down the road. That where you were thinking?”

“Yes exactly.”

“Yeah that works. It’s just bread.”

“Yeah. Thanks Richie. I’m gonna go handle that.” Sophie tore off her apron and ran out the door, wallet in hand. Two blocks down, she burst through the door of Frank’s Bakery and looked around, breathing heavily.

“I need some rolls,” she said, realizing she was being dramatic. She slowed down. “Sorry, there’s a party and our bread order isn’t filled. I’m in a rush.”

“Come in, come in.” A kindly older woman said. “I can help. What are you looking for?”

“Some crusty rolls or hoagie rolls if you have them.”

She pulled out three options and set them on top of a sheet of wax paper ontop of the glass case. She gestured to Sophie to try them and Sophie did, pulling a piece of each and quickly trying them.

“This is perfect how many of these do you have?” she asked, gesturing to the first and third option presented to her.

“We have three dozen left of these and two dozen of this one. Sorry, usually we don’t make huge portions since we are a smaller bakery.”

“No that is perfect, could I take all of them?” she asked. She ended up popping another piece of bread in her mouth as she waited, it really was good.

“Did you want me to cut them open for you?” the woman asked. She was already walking quite slowly and Sophie could only imagine how long it would take for her to cut them all.

“No thank you!” she replied quickly. “Thanks so much for this. Sorry for taking all of your supply.”

“No problem at all dear.” Sophie paid and ran out of the store, three large bags of bread in her arms. She booked it, running as fast as she could back to the restaurant.

Syd met her at the door and the two of them got to slicing, cutting open the rolls for sandwiches and then packaging them.

“What time is it?” Sophie asked, before looking over at the clock. “Five minutes left,” she groaned, picking up the pace.

Carmen walked over and joined them with his own knife, quickly slicing and then packaging them as well.

After everything was packed, Syd carried the bags to the front with Ebra. Sophie looked to Carmen, awkwardly. She took the small remaining paper bag and shoved it towards Carmen. “She gave me a few to try and I picked two out. I promise they are good,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

Carmen grabbed the bag and pulled out the bread, trying each. “You made the right call,” he said eventually. The two hadn’t made eye contact.

“More bread will be ready in 15 minutes, chefs!” Marcus called out, making Sophie sigh.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She finally met Carmy’s eyes and mustered a small smile. He took a breath.

“Thanks, Chef.” He nodded and stepped back to his station to finish cooking. Syd and Marcus returned from the front after delivering the order to Richie up front. Syd walked over and nudged her happily.

“Good job, Sophie.” The two shared a smile before getting back to work.

---

Sophie snuck off when Carmy was serving family. She wanted to check her phone to see if her sister needed anything. And she wanted to get a quick breath on her own. She felt exhausted and it had only been a few hours in the kitchen.

She was sitting on a crate, scrolling on her phone when Carmy walked out and sat next to her, silently. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. She heard him hold it out for her and she grabbed it without looking, placing it between her lips and leaning back.

“Just like old times,” she said as she handed it back. She exhaled the smoke in front of her.

He hummed in agreement. “You gonna eat?” he asked, kicking the toe of his shoe against the ground.

“Yeah I just needed to check to see if Mallary texted.” She showed him her phone. He nodded, taking another drag off his cigarette.

It hit her suddenly, what he was doing. He was still looking out for her. In New York, she had been grateful for his help but had never really considered how much work it must have been. To keep her afloat while he was trying to do the same for himself.

She remembered those days like they were behind a glass screen. Foggy and far away. She was lost in grief. Her father had died three years prior and she had never really recovered. She made her way through two years of culinary school through pure force of will. She climbed the ladder quickly with her skills and a few lucky connections and ended up in the same restaurant as Carmy in New York City. She had been on fire up till that point. Had taken the beating all chefs do starting out. But had learned and grown and had enough energy to make it that far. But she had started to burn out. And Carmy saw it. He was the one bright spot in that time of her life.

“Thank you for everything you did when we were in New York. I was in a really bad place. And I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you,” she said quietly, too intense for their normal style. She could feel him tense beside her. “I am doing better now. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I know you have enough going on.” She paused. She knew she had to just get it out.

“Richie mentioned Mikey,” she said, knowing she couldn’t keep it from him. “I’m really sorry. I know how close you were.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I just want to say I owe you. Still. So if you need anything, please ask. I’m around. And have very little to do nowadays,” she added, trying to lighten the tension a bit.

“Thanks, Soph. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They sat for a bit longer, Sophie trying to get up the nerve to say something else. Comfort him somehow. She wasn’t sure how to do that.

“How long are you in Chicago for? You said you’re here for your sister?” Carmy asked.

Sophie hummed and held out her hand for the cigarette again. Carmy handed it over. After a drag she nodded to herself. “I’m staying for a while. A year at least, maybe longer. It’s�� I’m here because Mallary has cancer,” she admitted, quietly. “She’s getting chemotherapy. Doing pretty well, all things considered.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. But she’s gonna pull through,” Sophie said, feigning confidence.

Sophie felt Carm’s eyes on her but she didn’t look at him, wondering if she had made the right choice sharing it. She handed the cigarette back without looking over. She didn’t want to make this about her. She had always been better at talking out her feelings than Carmy was, and that wasn’t saying a whole lot. But it was their way. Say all of the shit and then move along, feeling slightly less alone with it.

Carmy had relaxed, she felt him lean against the wall behind them.

She stood and stretched and then turned to look at Carmy. “Family?” she asked, holding out a hand to help him up. He accepted the hand up and let her pull him to his feet. She squeezed his hand gently before letting go and walking into the restaurant ahead of him.

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lakehare · 2 years ago

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I’m sorry but I think the idea of racism, transphobia, and bigotry and such not ‘belonging’ in pagan communities is such horse shit. I know that sounds off, but hear me out - because you may feel that way and hold those values, you may denounce fascists, but like… I know first hand my experience with progressive and leftist pagan and spiritual spaces have been anything but devoid of bigotry and microaggression, if not outright aggression, and I am not the only one. Spiritual and religious spaces in 2023 will claim to be progressive and leftist in one breath and with the same one say you are too sensitive.

They sleep in the middle - they follow political trend. I have rarely met a pagan or spiritual person who truly knows themself or their politics enough to not enact some sort of bigoted violence against me or my kin, whether out of ignorance or malice, and then be unwilling to learn better and insist upon your guilt because you dared point it out - no matter the manner you did it in. Firm or gentle - you are being aggressive. And I know I am not the only one with this experience. So saying “fascism / bigotry has no place” is great and all, but a bit of an empty statement, and I only wish to see MORE come from it. Perhaps a denounciation of the falsity of all of this, of the liberalism, an encouragement of self reflection and how you treat others. It’s why I gave up on a large scale, and fight the big fights quietly - I can change no one who doesn’t want to, and I don’t need to, nor is it my job nor my business. I don’t actually want or need people looking at me for guidance, as some authority figure. I don’t need people looking at me as the new herder for their political slogan to parrot without actually making meaningful change within themselves, the slogan this time being “fascism/bigotry has no space in pagan spaces”.

I don’t need centrist/liberal, puritanical, democrat neo-spiritualists parading and masquerading as the most progressive leftists on the market to help me boot fascism out when they are unwilling to stop sleeping in the same bed as them or attempt to change their own ways, or do anything helpful towards the communities they’re in or even towards their IRL communities.

(Disclaimer inb4 bad faith - sure, some pagans and neospiritualists get this and do try. But they are not who I’m talking about here).

Calling out fascists changes nothing about how people act. Changes nothing about transmisogynistic, racist, sexist microaggressions (which is what actually reminded me of my position on this topic - given that it’s NOT the first time I’ve said this before, that just saying uwu there’s no place for bigotry in MY paganism) if you want a good example of what I’m speaking of, the best connection I can give you, this post by my mutual can inform you of performativity in regards to community acts against transmisogyny while snubbing trans women (and doing nothing of value for them) & maybe give a little insight into what I mean.

It does not stop people from lugging their own religious and spiritual baggage into the space and spewing it around to all who will hear, and those are really the things that I think should be focused on, not public smack downs in order to laugh and giggle with your buddies about such a serious thing. Clowning privately is one thing, I think clowning to thousands in order to get praise for your wit and cunning is quite another.

You can only change your actions and show others how to act by how you act in these spaces - and of course, I do not know others nearly as well as I know myself. But I, as a younger person, did the whole righteous crusade against bigoted people, in order to feel like I was doing something significant. And YES. Fascism needs to be pushed out of pagan spaces! I agree, allowing them to get a foothold in any country in any manner but especially a wide scale is NOT acceptable.

But the way it seems virtue signaling to me, the way it seems to push yourself into a space of authority, and rankles me, as someone who realized the exact issues with what I was doing. It is quite an ego boost when people listen to what you have to say and get to defend your moral and ethical stances, yes? And I was on an even smaller scale than some of these (now) BNPs.

I’m not saying people have to do their good deeds quietly, that’s Christian bullshit. But the manner of which I see a lot of (now) Big Name Pagans do this ruffles my feathers in an unnerving way. I can’t quite articulate exactly the way this is unnerving and unnecessary and how there are other ways and middle grounds (at the moment - I took an anxiety pill last night and I’m surprised at my coherency here) that don’t involve the grand standing, but if the lines are read between in good faith I have hope that my point comes across clear.

#contemplating posting this on my other blog too #text

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emma-m-black · 10 months ago

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Sister Kent - Chapter Two

Ted Lasso/OC (Roy Kent's Little Sister) (FanFiction) - PG

Takes place in season one, the night the Roy goes to Ted's flat and talks to him (and gets offered peanut butter). Ted and Roy's little sister hit it off.

This is a rough draft as always and I wrote this to be 4 chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Author Master List

Read Chapter One

Chapter Two:

Juliet was sitting in the office of one Rebecca Welton. "Thank you again so much for this opportunity."

"Of course, you came highly recommended and you have family here. Makes you less likely to take off at some point, and then I'm not stuck hiring my fifth physiotherapist in two and a half years." Said Rebecca as she leaned back in her seat.

Higgens when to open his mouth to speak when a knock came on the door. "Bing-bong! It's biscuits o'clock." Turning herself Juliet brought her eyes to see Ted standing in the doorway, backpack on and two small boxes and a to-go cup in his hands.

"Higgins! You're back!" Ted said cheerfully as he entered the room and came to stand in the empty space between Juliet and Higgins.

"Yeah!" Replied Higgins.

"All right. Well, hey, I know I may be a little too old-school for some folks but I'm gonan say it anyway. Hell to the yeah." Ted then carefully handed one box over to Rebecca. "Here you go, boss. Those are yours."

"Thank you, Ted."

"And these are for Higgins. I had a hunch you were gonna be here." Ted then handed the second box over to Higgins.

"Yeah?"

"Actually, those were for Trent Crimm's daughter. She turns three today. But it means more to me if you had 'em."

It took everything in her to not laugh as Juliet watched Higgin's face changed from one of happiness to horror. "What? No. No, no."

Ted waved his hand in the air and took a small step back. "No. It's okay. She won't remember."

From the little Juliet knew of Ted, she figured he had to be messing with Higgins, and that he would never deprive a little girl of cookies.

"Oh, Ted, you've already told her?" Said an exasperated but smiling Rebecca.

"Yeah, weeks ago. She's been looking forward to it. But she's three. She'll bounce right back. It'll be fine."

Higgins who was now shaking with fear looked to Juliet as if she was a life line. "No way. I can't."

Finally Ted let out a laugh and then the others followed. "I'm screwing with you. I'm just messing around." He patted Higgins shoulder. "I predicted this whole thing, and I made those myself for you."

An audible sigh left Higgins. "Oh. Thank you."

"Just like I predicted I should bring a cup of hot brown morning potion for Ms. Capulet." Ted held out the large cup to Juliet with a large smile. "A little birdy told me that you like one cream two sugar."

"Thank you, Montague." Juliet replied as she took the offered cup from Ted.

"What is happening?" Asked Rebecca, who was drifting her gaze between the two in question. "Do you two know each other?"

"I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Kent last night." Ted motioned to Juliet with a smile.

Juliet responded with a quite chuckle and then looked from Ted to Rebecca. "He let me stick my finger in his peanut butter."

Rebecca's eyebrow raised and she looked between the two trying to figure out what she was missing from the conversation and if peanut butter was a euphemism for something.

"Do you mind if I steal Juliet here, I promised her I'd give her the old Ted Lasso tour of the grounds?"

"I was gonna have Higgins show her around but by all means Ted go ahead. Just be sure to come back before the end of the day and we will finish out the rest of the paper work.

Juliet stood from her chair and looked to Rebecca. "Thank you once again for this opportunity." She gave her dress pants an unconscious smooth and reached down to pick up her backpack.

"I hope it works out, I'm really am getting tired of hiring new physiotherapists." Rebecca responded with a laugh.

"Here allow me Milday." Ted said while holding out a hand in the direction of Juliet's backpack.

Figuring he was not the type to argue with she held out the extremely worn leather bag. Once the strap was in his palm he took the weight of it and gave a grunt as he let himself fall towards the floor slightly, then stood back up with a laugh. "I'm just messing with ya." Ted gave a laugh and then motioned for Juliet to follow him. "I can't wait to introduce you to the rest of the team."

Once the two of them were out of the room, Higgins turned back to Rebecca. "We don't think..."

"No." Rebecca said quickly, picking up her box of biscuits. She looked sure in her answer until her eyebrows scrunched together and pursed her lips as she stared back at Higgins.

"Neah." They both quickly said.

Ted opened the door to the physio room and allowed Juliet to enter first. "So this will be your new home away from home. I thought for sure that Phillip, who replaced Gail, who replaced Susan, who replaced other Phillip, who replaced Michael, was gonna stick around. Heck, I figured about our little cleansing ritual we would have expelled any of that negative energy."

"Oh you guys cleaned out the place?' Asked Juliet as she looked around the room.

"No like for reals. The recovery room was cursed by the spirits of all these dead solders."

Juliet looked back to where Ted was stood in the entry to the room and shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps I need to sacrifice something to the Richmond spirits too."

A large smile appeared on Ted's face at the genuine response from Juliet. "Your office is just behind there." Ted pointed towards a door with a large glass frosted window. "Did you wanna leave your bag there for the meantime. Phillip already cleared out everything for you and plans on just working from in here for the last little bit."

"Oh, sure. That was nice of him."

Opening the door to the office Juliet found a decent sized wooden desk housing a computer and a few boxes of random office supplies. A row of filing cabinets along was sat along one wall, and a large x-ray film viewer across the other. "So how long have you been doin' this for?" Asked Ted who had come to stand next to her in the room now.

"I graduated two years ago. After I got my degrees I got hired on at the clinic I had been interning at." Juliet took her backpack from Ted and laid it down on the top of the desk.

"Degrees?"

"I have a degree in Sports Medicine and Physiotherapy. I originally wanted to get into orthopedic surgery, but then I realized I preferred being pro-active to re-active. I find my enjoyment out of helping to create long term solutions as apposed to just cutting into someone."

Juliet looked up to Ted with a smile on her face. "Maybe it's silly, but I want to make a difference with the people I help, work with them, as apposed to just slapping a solution on them and never seeing them again."

"I couldn't agree more Juliet." Said Ted softly.

Unzipping her backpack Juliet reached inside and pulled out a soft brown crocheted plushy. Juliet sat the object down on the edge of her desk and settled the bottom of it so that it rested upright. Ted tilted his head slightly to examine the object. "Is that a potato?"

"It's my emotional support potato. Phoebe got it for me. I had been talking with my sister about being conflicted on what I wanted to do, and how I thought she would be disappointed in me. Think I was quitting, before I had even really started."

Ted leaned down to examine the white card that the potato's tiny arms were holding. "I may be a tiny potato, but I believe in you. Go do your thing. Good words to live by." Said Ted as he straightened up. "Come on, let's get you introduced to the rest of the gang, and then the real tour starts."

"Oh, the real tour. Feel like you are about to show me some magical wardrobe that takes me to another world."

"More like a door that leads to a very stinky boot room." Ted's nose scrunched up imposing the unpleasant expertise she was sure to have in only moments. "Oh hey, wanna play like you don't know your brother plays here?"

A soft giggle left Juliet before she moved around the desk and both her and Ted exited the room.

Making their way down the hall, Ted led Juliet into the managers office. When they entered through the doorway Juliet immediately noticed a man sitting on a cabinet fidgeting with his hands, and another man sat with his feet propped up on the top of the desk, book in hand.

"Coach Beard, our Kit Man Nathan Shelley, I would like to introduce the newest member of our team. Staring in the role of team Physiotherapist, Ms. Juliet Kent."

The man with his feet up immediately dropped his book down from in front of his face and looked her over, with a slight squint. "Kent?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Said Juliet with a smile.

"Kent?"

"Yup." Replied Ted.

"Kent..." The man in the desk said again as he pointed out into the locker room. "Like the footballer Roy Kent, of the Richmond Hounds, Roy Kent?"

"OH MY GOD, this is the Richmond Hounds isn't it? My bother plays here!" Juliet all but shouted, her hands came up to cover her mouth in surprise and her eyes went wide.

Ted let a laugh slip from his lips, and slowly Coach Beards face changed to that of realization. "I thought you were an Emergency Doctor?"

"That's the other sister." Said Juliet.

"I didn't know Roy Kent had another sister." Spoke Nathan from beside her. "Umm, Ted, can I talk to you a moment."

"Sure thing."

Ted and Nathan left the room, leaving Juliet alone with Beard. "So Coach Beard, before Ted get's back wanna make up a secret handshake?"

"You're crazy will fit in here just fine." Beard placed his book down on the desk and look at Juliet with an evil smirk. "And yes, always yes."

By the time Ted and Nathan had come back into the room, Beard and Juliet were putting the final touches on their handshake, and quickly separated once they had company. "Did yawl just make up a secret handshake already?"

"No." Replied Juliet and Beard at the same time.

"Hmm, I see how it is." Said Ted with a smirk.

Chapter Three

#ted lasso #ted lasso/oc #ted lasso x oc #ted lasso fanfic

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