#tumbling again Science Useful

[rafesangelita]

♡ when pope doesn’t want to hit you during sex..

warnings: oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, angst, finger sucking, mentions of past sexual encounters, reassurance and comfort, brief description of reader being treated poorly, overstimulation, soft sex, praise, reader cries, pope is so gentle and sweet ૮ . . ྀིა⁩

a/n: highly recommend reading bitchy!pogue!reader’s lore if you haven’t already so you could get a better understanding of her <3 this was slightly inspired by the ending of ‘anora’

wc: 1.3k

“pope, pope, pope—” you sounded like a broken record, the man’s name falling off of your lips like a mantra. working his tongue in skillful cirlces around your clit, you shuddered as his grip around your thighs tightened, arching your back off of his sheets with a cry. you didn’t think he had it in him. pope had effortlessly made you scream and cry in overstimulation for the past twenty minutes, your brain fuzzy and vision hazy as he pushed you over the edge time and time again.

“how are you so good at that?” you couldn’t help but ask as pope licked the remnants of you off of his lips, your eyes running down his shirtless form. “well i took a lot of anatomy classes for science and stuff, you know? bodily functions are kinda my thing. jj also might’ve given me some pointers..” you laughed, your chest rising and falling as you basked in your post-orgasm bliss. pope looked up at you sheepishly, sorta in disbelief that he had you of all people here in his room.

deciding to put his shirt back on, pope froze once you pulled at his arm. “what are you doing?” your brows knitted together in confusion when you saw him looking around like you two were finished. “i uhm— i didn’t want to assume that you wanted to have like full on sex, so i was just gonna let you get dressed whenever you felt ready.” you laid there dumbfounded. no guy has ever been this considerate. “are you kidding? i’m not leaving you high and dry..”

pope swallowed thickly when your hand trailed down his frontside, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you palmed him through his shorts. “did jj also give you pointers on how to fuck?” pope shook his head, allowing you to pull him down between your legs. he was rock hard in his boxers and he was still making it all about you. “you got this hard just by tasting me?” your voice was sugary sweet and pope swore he could blow his load right then and there when he felt your fingers working him out of the restraints of his underwear.

“yes,” he nodded, deciding to help you out when one of the charms from your nails got caught in his zipper, “you tasted so good, and you’re also just really, really pretty.” he stammered, the nervous look on his face making you giggle. ‘pretty’ the word was so wholesome, you hadn’t been called that in ages. you were so used to the terms ‘hot’, ‘sexy’, even ‘sinful’, but pretty? you couldn’t decide if you liked the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard it.

you shook off the weird feeling that came over you, instead distracting yourself by taking pope’s hand and wrapping your lips around his thumb. “oh, wow! that’s—” pope had never seen such an erotic sight before in his life. not even in the weird porn jj would flash him out of no where. pope could sense a slight energy shift, but ultimately decided that he was just mentally psyching himself out cause he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

once he was prodding at your entrance, you and pope shared a knowing look before he pushed into you, a muffled moan tumbling from your mouth as he groaned, screwing his eyes shut at the sheer feeling of you being wrapped around him. you felt better than what he could’ve ever imagined. warm, wet, and gripping him like a fucking vice. he cursed to himself, hoping, pleading, that he wouldn’t finish quick and make a fool out of himself.

you were already a mess when his head was between your thighs, but feeling him inside you was a totally different thing. he knew exactly how to angle his hips so he could hit that spot that made you see stars behind closed eyes. he was slow and calculated, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. the realization had you feeling exposed and slightly embarrassed.

why wasn’t he being rough?

why wasn’t he being selfish?

why wasn’t he using you purely for his own pleasure?

pope leaned down and started leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his hand and intertwining his fingers with your own. “you feel amazing,” he praised, “just perfect.” you blinked, your breath quickening as his lips found their way to yours. your brain wanted you to push him away and tell him that kissing on the lips was too intimate, but your heart had you giving in and kissing him back.

it wasn’t until you and pope were lost in each other’s orbit and his nose was nudging yours ever so gently that you panicked and turned your head away from him. you were losing control, and you needed to get behind the steering wheel fast. ripping your hand from his, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped you two over so you were on top. pope looked surprised, the sudden change in position throwing him for a loop. you reached back, lining him up with your entrance before sinking back down onto his length.

pope let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hands flying out to rest in the curve where your thighs and your hips met. you started up a steady pace, the man underneath you shamelessly grunting and moaning as you rode him with ease. you refused to look at him or meet his eyes, partly because you were terrified of seeing what you couldn’t handle right now; and that was the gaze of a man who wasn’t viewing you as some kind of sex object, but as an actual living being with emotions and thoughts and aspirations of your own.

pope knew what you did for work but it didn’t bother him. he was concerned about your safety more than anything. your fears came true when pope ran his fingers across your flesh, the look on his face saying it all. he wasn’t just admiring your body, he was cherishing it. every curve, every detail, he was engraving every single thing into his brain in hopes that he wouldn’t have to rely on his memory of you to be the only time he’ll ever see you like this.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to prove that pope was exactly like everyone else. “hit me,” you moaned, grabbing his hand and placing it on your cheek, “please, i want you to do it.” pope felt his heart drop to his stomach, his face twisting in confusion. “hit you? why would i do that?” he stopped you, sitting up against the headboard while you avoided his heated stare. “why wouldn’t you?” you scoffed, “it’s like every guy’s wet dream.”

“it’s not mine.”

that’s exactly what you were afraid to hear. of course pope wasn’t some sick individual who got off on hitting girls and inflicting pain on them— words included. “please, just do it. choke me, pull my hair, anything— i want it.” with his palm still on your cheek, he cradled your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “no, you don’t.” he whispered, stroking your skin with the utmost care.

him being gentle hurt you more than any man who threw you around with no regard ever did. you didn’t know no other way, you didn’t know what it was like to be put first. nor did you know how to outwardly express your appreciation or vulnerability without having to give something away. you stared at him, your resolve crumbling as you cried into his chest, his arms enveloping you immediately. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, all while pope was still nestled inside of you.

he didn’t say a word as he held you tightly, your tears dripping down onto his skin as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. pope already knew what was wrong, his ability to read you and see right through you was uncanny. “no one can hurt you anymore,” he stated, “not in here. not when you’re with me.”

[zyafics]

RED FERRARI CHASE | 05

MAIN | MASTERLIST | IRL & Social Media AU

Pairing — F1 Driver!Rafe x High School Sweetheart!(F)Reader

Summary — Before Rafe became one of the best drivers on the grid, he was yours. However, when his popularity skyrocketed, he became one of the most eligible bachelors in F1, leaving you behind to indulge in the notoriety of the sport. Yet, years have passed, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you: his first love, his high school sweetheart, the only person to believe in him. When new management takes over his team, he’s afraid their new strategy could undermine his role in the cutthroat league. But in an unexpected twist of fate, Rafe discovers you returning to the circuit as part of the new leadership—now, with a ring on your finger. Engaged to his boss.

Content — formula one au

Navigation — Part 04 | Part 05 | Part 06

You nearly jump out of your skin. The voice was close—too close to be a figment of your imagination. And when you pick up the steady breaths of another person occupying your space, you know it to be true. With all the hairs standing on your arms, you slowly turn around to face the owner of the voice: Rafe Cameron.

He’s casually leaning against the counter on the opposite end of the kitchen, a couple of cold brews beside him, while his arms are crossed over his chest. Expectantly.

This is exactly what you were trying to avoid.

“Hi,” you squeak, all confidence from your call vanishing.

“Hi,” Rafe echoes, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. Instinctively, you tighten the hold of your snack to your chest.

“Hi,” you repeat, heart hammering wildly, losing every ounce of composure you’re trying to muster. But it’s clearly not going well given you’re unable to say any other word without stumbling into a complete mess.

“Hi,” he laughs, a rich airy sound that leaves your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t understand what’s so funny, especially since you want nothing more than to melt into a puddle at your own feet. “Is that the only word you know or can you answer me now?”

Your mind blanks. You can’t recall the question proposed, and as time ticks, the discomfort from the lack of knowledge expands. Just as you’re about to run out of the room, Rafe notices, and repeats back to you.

“Oh,” you mumble, fidgeting with your snack. “Um, I—um, well, Kiara.”

“Carrera?” His head tilts, the carefree smile widening and a small dimple pokes out, rewarding you for your answer. “You’re friends with her?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

"So that’s who you’re complaining to about us being obnoxious?"

Your face burns up. Your mouth pops open, but nothing falls through.

Someone in the living room calls for him. “In a minute!” He shouts, his eyes never straying from your face, observing and taking in every ounce of embarrassment filtering your features. He asks again, “A simple yes or no will do.”

“It’s not like that,” you blurt out, the words tumbling over themselves. “I just–You know how you guys always—I mean, you have to know—“

“Look,” he chuckles, holding out a hand, stopping you from making a bigger fool of yourself. “I get it. We’re loud. But you don’t have to afraid. We don’t bite.” He says, before pausing, the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Unless you ask us to.”

“I–“ You have no words. You don’t even know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

‘Why are you apologizing, you’re right.” He shrugs. His eyes sweep over your body, familiarity trickling in. “You’re the tutor girl, right? The one in my grade?”

You’re surprised Rafe knows this. While you may be in his year, you don’t circulate the same crowd as him—aka, the ones hanging around your brother and his peers of F1 enthusiasts.

“Yeah,” you answer with a quiet nod. “Mainly for science.”

“I like science,” he grins, but there’s a subtle tone of innuendo, causing your stomach to flutter. “So, if I need help, I can come to you?”

Your eyes widen, expecting this to be a joke. But nothing but sincerity covers his features. A brow raised as he’s patiently awaiting your confirmation.

Someone calls out again, more urgently this time. “Just a sec!” He snaps, his irritation hardens his features in a matter of seconds, his words coming out as sharp. But when he drags his gaze back to you, all of it disappears. “Yeah?”

You bite your bottom lip. Contemplating, before inevitably, deliriously, and perhaps stupidly, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” He says with a wink, pushing himself off the counter and collecting the beers with one hand before walking back into the living room.

It takes a few seconds before your breath catches up after Rafe’s departure. When all the air fills to your lungs, a sense of sobriety unveils itself, and you exhale sharply. You can’t believe that just happened, and as you collect your phone to return to the room, you discover Kiara is still on the line.

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[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 9)

Masterpost

“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall. 

“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.

“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind. 

“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.” 

Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.

“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.

He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.

Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny. 

Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.

This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony. 

He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.

Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.

Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him. 

Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?

Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”

When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.

-----

Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.

“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.

“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”

“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back. 

He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.

“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said. 

“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy. 

“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little. 

“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm. 

He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.

Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”

“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.

“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.

Next

[rabotimagines]

“Responsible” GN Autobot Reader x various, Mainly Ratchet, Wheeljack, Hoist, Perceptor. [Smut Scenario]

Summary: Reader gets their obsolete heat protocols triggered during a battle. Horny shenanigans follow with some of the Autobots trying to be responsible.

G1 characters: Ratchet, Wheeljack, Hoist, Perceptor. (Various other Autobots and Decpticons are also mentioned here at the start)

Genre/Theme: Smut Scenario 🔞

Warnings: MDNI, Heat cycles and the other horny nonsense it usually entails, Voyeurism, Interface toys.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: Starts Ratchet pov and goes to Wheeljack for the most of the smut. The start of this is absolute shenanigans I will not lie to you, Spike/Valve terms used for Bot Reader, The science and Medical team on the Ark trying REAL hard not to be perverts. (They only partially succeed)

“Ratchet please-!”

“No! Get your heat ridden aft back on that berth now!” Ratchet barks out and you mutter curses the whole way back to the medical slab in the back of the medical bay. When you get there you huff and drag the privacy curtain back closed.

Rachet pinches the space between his optics and sighs harsh. His plating loosening a touch afterwards in exhaustion. What exactly else were they supposed to do about this entire mess?

It had started like any other battle via whatever new Decepticon scheme it was this month. That being the machine they’d built that exploded after you pressed the fail safe. Right before it had a chance to fire a high pressurized blast directly into the closest human city. The formula they’d used for such a high level destructive weapon ment a large and aggressive amount of energy discharge when it did explode.

And unfortunately the exact backyard mixture they’d used had a rather unfortunate effect on your frame.

Megatron had grabbed you first, dragging your limp frame upwards to use you as a hostage- Optimus stopping his failed dash for your frame to try and figure his next course of action. Megatron was in the middle of gloating and goading Optimus when he adjusted his grip on your frame and- according to Optimus- you moaned. Loud and unabashedly.

They both froze at the very obviously obscene sound and balked at your still limp frame.

Megatron jerked and stared wide opticed down at your slowly twitching frame for some reason Optimus couldn’t discern- and no sooner was Megatron shot in the helm by Powerglide flying over which sent him down and you tumbling out of his grasp. Optimus rushed and dove for your frame scooping you up and running back for cover under the sudden blaster fire. And Apparently -again according to Optimus- you almost made him trip and fall flat on his faceplate when your glossia abruptly lapped against his windshield glass. Your em field pulsing hard in want against him and the urge for anything he was willing to give you- suddenly had him assume this was what made Megatron act that way-!

Optimus had to wrestle you off of him after that with an increasing embarrassment, because every touch from him had you making rather- racy sounds in response. You had also started begging Optimus for some ahem- “Special overtime.” was the phrase Ratchet manged to get out of Optimus. Optimus did a rather quick scan of your frames internal status while you squirmed in his hold- and realized it was the explosions fault for your behavior. The abundance of energy had your virus protocols scrambling everything to dispel every ounce of heightened charge immediately as fast as it could.

Which kick started up now active “Heat” Protocols which they didn’t even realize you had-! They weren’t exactly common and were rarely activated for obvious reasons! And that had your array set as high as it possibly could get leveled too. With you attempting to get that charge out as fast as you could. Even if that was by clinging onto Optimus while his optics brightened and he was trying to dodge blaster fire. Blaster fire that lessened when bots had stopped firing to instead gawk at the loud and horny attempt you were making on your own leader. Leader who was obviously floundering and failing to get you to stop feeling him up in the middle of the battlefield.

Optimus had made it back to some of the others and Inferno had grabbed you to help get you off of Optimus. You let go of Optimus finally and instead turned your attention onto Inferno.

You shocked everyone via not waiting or asking to lock Inferno into an open mouthed kiss. Shoving your glossia in Inferno’s mouth while already trying to frot against him- Inferno’s siren sounded off in a flustered panic and Optimus had to hastily explain you weren’t exactly in control of yourself. And seemed to be under the effects of obsolete heat protocols being triggered by the energy explosion. Red Alert had to pull you off of Inferno only nearly dropping you, his frame not made to carry other mechs like Inferno or the medics were.

Taking advantage of the slightly lost grip, you just turned your greedy servos upon Red Alert instead. You didn’t hesitate to lap your glossia over the edge of one of his helm sensors. Ratchet could have been back at The Ark and Ratchet still would’ve heard the embarrassed scream that came out of their security director. Inferno had to just yank you back off Red Alert. While Red Alerts sensors were left sputtering sparks, his optics bright, and muttering incoherently.

Which had only lead to a game of pushing you onto another Autobot when your horny attention and advances got to be too much for one of them. Ratchet had tried to get a hold of you then since you were impaired and needed help sooner than later. But he kept getting blocked by blaster fire or other battlefield insanity.

And then you had gotten grabbed by Breakdown when Wildrider slammed directly into Hoist, who had a hold of you at the time and they’d all tensed. Ratchet cursed knowing they’d use you as a hostage-

Breakdown yelped when you didn’t even hesitate in turning your heat driven perversions onto the unprepared Stunticon. Your servos grabbing at his pauldron tires and squeezing was enough for Breakdown to panic- and try to get you off of him instead of trying to hold onto you. When you tried to kiss him Breakdown screamed and fell with you already clambering on top of him.

Dead End had to pull you off of Breakdown and the cycle of perversion only continued with the Decepticons now involved in your heat ridden haze.

A few of the cons actually didn’t freak out and did try and use the opportunity to take advantage of you- only to either be hit by an Autobot or even one of their own faction members telling them to get it together. But finally- finally Ratchet managed to grab a hold of you after Brawn slammed into Motormaster’s helm and Ratchet made sure to keep a hold of you- even when Decepticons tried to grab you for hostage purposes- and even more unsavory ones.

The cons finally pulled back when Optimus threw Megatron through a wall and he called for retreat.

And now Ratchet was stuck guarding the entrance to medical from you and from any other sparkdamn idiot who thought they might just “help” you with your little heat issue. He’d grabbed Sideswipe by the back of the neck and thrown him out when he tried to sneak past him. He’s also stared down Smokescreen of all bots, who froze seeing Ratchet and tried to play it off as inquiring about you. Ratchet just told him to waltz his aft back to his habsuite.

But no- it couldn’t have just been the Autobots being morons- Skywarp had decided to warp into the Ark and sneak around only to be caught by Grimlock- which had the Dinobots all chasing him out of The Ark. The Dinobots leaving a trail of destruction behind them as they went. After that the Aerial bots were set to patrol the Ark's surroundings and no sooner than a few klicks ended up in an aerial dog fight with the coneheads.

Hound by chance caught the Stunticons on the other opposite area by the base. Which thankfully the Dinobots were still hunting for Skywarp near by and promptly helped fight off the sudden appearance of Menasor.

Megatron even had the sparkdamn audacity to video call Optimus to talk- Talk of “so graciously offering” to a limited ceasefire for the duration of your sudden heat if Optimus let them “borrow” you.

That bucket helmed jackaft was lucky Ratchet wasn’t in the room for that call because he’d of ripped him a new afterburner. Though Prowl and Optimus apparently didn’t hesitate to dress him down for the nerve of the request.

Ratchet was old enough he’d had a few fleeting conversations with a few bots that had heat protocols. And he’d felt the light ever encompassing waves that their em fields would give off when the protocols were active. He had asked a few questions to the first bot he’d met with them. Wanting to know how to assist if he had to help treat a bot with it.

Ratchet was told it was like your frames on fire and you can’t think or focus on almost anything other than trying to satisfy the heat in your array. Also that the first few heats were unimaginably more difficult than the later ones. The mech he’d been talking to had said on his first heat he’d interfaced with at least five different bots in a single lunar cycle… and he had done that for multiple lunar cycles sequentially. But the mech was also in the middle of a heat cycle while talking with Ratchet. And despite the em field that was heated and almost addicting- The mech had been managing it well anyway. Seeming mostly annoyed by the entire thing as opposed to well… you in your first heat right now.

You’d already tried and failed to get into Ratchets array panel more times than he could count. Desperation not diminished in the slightest due to your overcharged array and obsolete code running in your frames make up. You’d tried flirting, to asking, to begging him to help you- and it was driving Ratchets stress levels through the sparkdamn roof! The last thing Ratchet would want for any of his patients was to keep them suffering but- you were impaired and couldn’t make rational decisions at the moment.

As far as Ratchet knew he couldn’t trust you to not run out into the woods and pop your panel for whatever con happened to be the closest- let alone make a correct judgment of consent.

Ratchet groaned when his com pinged, fully expecting to be alerted of yet another failed attempt from the Decepticons. But Ratchet was pleasantly surprised by the message in his com.

“Have a possible solution for their array. Can you bring ‘em to the lab?”

Wheeljack messaged back finally about trying to find a way to break you out of your heat. Perceptor and Hoist were also assigned to help- and also assure Wheeljack not blow anything up in the mean time. Ratchet looked at the closed privacy curtain, his audials catching what he knew was you again self servicing trying to get some type of relief.

Ratchet approached and pulled the curtain aside to be met with you on your side and three of your own digits shoved into your own valve, array utterly soaking wet with pre lubricants. Spike heavy and twiching, already leaking a small puddle of pre lubricant on the medical slab. Ratchets optic ridge only twitched having seen you in almost every compromising position in these past few days.

Almost.

“Up. We’re going to the lab.” Ratchet stepped forward but you only groaned and shoved your digits further inside your valve. Your valve mesh easily parting due to your own arousal to take the intrusions even deeper.

“Why?” You mumbled and huffed, your plating tensing and fluffing over the abundance of over stimulation you were in.

“We may have a fix for your heat. Wheeljack wants me to bring you to the lab.”

“Don’t wanna…” You mumbled like some pouting youngling- and Ratchet can feel his optic ridge crease in annoyance.

Ratchet was very aware you were in a- delicate state and that state made it hard for you to do much else other than think of fragging or getting fragged. That energy in your frame could be partially discharged with another system or in this case another frame. It didn’t necessarily need to be someone else’s spike or valve.

Ratchet was really going to have to give you an inch here so you’ll help yourself, wasn’t he?

Huffs and your other soft noises drowned out much else in the room.

“If- you behave on the way over to the lab and keep your panel closed the entire way there- You’ll get a reward afterwards... And is will be for your array.” Ratchet made sure to stress. Your frame perks and your optics now focused to lock directly onto his.

You realize he’s serious and immediately roll over on your front and pull your digits out of yourself. “Ill be good-!”

Ratchet hopes you’re right! If he had to drag you off another bot after releasing you from the room he was going to make you know exactly how mad he is at you.

-

Perceptor had came over to help Ratchet in transporting you to the lab and he met you both right outside the medbay. Your designation leaves him at the sight of you “Salutations- How have you been fairing over your latent heat protocols being activated?” He slightly tilted his helm, definitely trying to ask for educational purposes.

Your plating twitched and your optics zero’d in on Perceptor. Your gaze slowly dragging down his frame. Ratchet mentally prepared himself to inevitably having to drag you off of Perceptor. But you didn’t pounce onto the microscope.

“Struggling.” You said blunt. “So Percy- Wanna frag till I can’t think about anything but your spike hitting my ceiling node?” Oh, for Primus sake-!

“Oh my-!” Perceptor recoiled a bit and his optics widened and brightened a good few levels when he comprehended what you’d just said.

“What did I say about behaving?!” Ratchet grabbed you by a gap in your chassis armor.

“I am behaving, I’m staying by you and keeping my panel closed. I'm just flirting.”

“That’s not flirting-! That’s you propositioning him!”

“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t do that either.” Your optics darted back to Perceptor “Or would you want my spike-” Ratchet started shaking you before you could finish what you were saying with your filthy no filter heated processor.

Perceptor reset his vocalizor loudly and cycled his optics. “I am- well aware of the effects a heat can have on a bot- let alone the tribulations the first heat will inflict upon a frame. So I…” Perceptor crossed his arms. “Shall not fault you for the inappropriate outbursts from you that are clearly driven by your heat.”

“Great so knowing I don’t have to feel bad about this- Percy, has anyone ever told your red would look lovely stained pink-?” Ratchet grabbed onto you with his other servo too and shook you harder this time. Perceptor’s optics brightened further and he raised a fist up in front of his own mouth while his optic ridge lightly creased.

When Ratchet stopped shaking you he scoffed pushing you forward. “Walk you overzealous heat ridden turbo fox.” Perceptor nodded at Ratchet and turned to cover the front while you all walked to the lab.

You thankfully did behave and kept your panel closed for the duration of the trip to the lab.

-

“Do you really think this will work?” Hoist muttered staring at the invention they’d made together.

“I mean it’s all we got right now besides handling it the uh- ol' fashioned way.” Wheeljack shrugged “Worth a try, ain’t it?” Really the worst that could happen is it wouldn’t help any, then they’d all just have to go back to the drawing board and think up something else to help you.

The lab door opened and Wheeljack glanced to see you being lead in by Perceptor and Ratchet. They make their way over to Hoist and him as soon as you guys saw ‘em.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Wheeljack smiled at you.

“Like I need to overload.” You bluntly remarked. “At least staring at Perceptor's aft on the way over here was a good distraction.”

Perceptor sounded like he’d choked on his own oral lubricant before he covered his faceplate with his own servo and looked anywhere but you. While Ratcheet looked like he was a nano-klick away from grabbing you and forcibly shorting your vocalizor.

“Well! I have great news then-!” Wheeljack clapped once and held his servos out towards- his new invention in the form of the false spike he had sitting upwards on the table. “Me, Hoist, And Perceptor think you might just need to overload enough times to get your frame to stop thinking it needs to burn out your interface protocols. So we-”

“Mostly Wheeljack-” Perceptor murmured still refusing to meet your gaze- And Wheeljack gets the embarrassment to a degree but c’mon! Being embarrassed about it wasn’t gonna help ya any!

“Yes mostly me designed this- But it’s basically a false spike with some neat extras. It throbs and twitches and even overloads fake lubricant to mimic transfluid.”

“And it’s got it’s own system set up so It will be able to respond and absorb some of the charge you’re putting out in your array because of the heat.” Hoist tacked on at the end.

“Is this why you wanted an immediate portion of the interface lubricant I keep in the medbay? For a frag toy?” Ratchet stared at him and Wheeljack knew it was the “I’m very disappointed in your current thought process and need to weld that fact into you with my optics.” Expression.

“Well, we were still work shopping a name for it but well- ha, that’s basically what it is. It’s just a basic design for a false spike and with one optimal addition for a spike if you wanna also service that at the same- woah-!” Wheeljack stopped short when you pounced directly onto the table on all fours.

“Finally-!” You cursed and your modesty panel snapped back- Your own pre lubricants immediately started cutting slick tracks down your own inner thighs and even dripping right onto the table top. Your spike pressurizing so quickly Wheeljack was wondering how you even kept your panel closed to begin with.

Peceptor sounded like he’d choked on his own glossia this time “G-Good gracious-!”

Ratchet said your designation sharp, “Get off the-!” Ratchet didn’t finish before you got your valve over the spike and Ratchet grunted when the toys head slipped into your hole and you dropped down the toys length fast. “Oh, for the love of-”

“Oh dear-! Not too fast you might hurt yourself!” Hoist tried to caution you, but Wheeljack was stuck staring when your thighs touched the back of your own pedes. Your valve almost flat against the table top and taking almost the entire thing near instantly. When the false spike bottomed out your mouth fell open and your glossia touched your bottom derma- a deep groan that sounded like it probably came out of your spark chamber tumbled out.

Your servos found purchase against the edge of the table and you didn’t waste any time pulling back off the false spike. “Frag- yeah, yeah-!” Wheeljack watched you start bouncing yourself up and back down the toys length, your heavy spike bopping in the open air every jerk back down. So he’s obviously focused enough that he can see the drop of pre lubricant that falls off your spike head and hits the table top to join in making a mess, along with the rest of your fluids.

Your spike- right! “Uh- right the other attachment!” Wheeljack cleared his vocalizor, remembering why they’d done all this in the first place and tries to ignore his own array trying to kick start a charge itself. He pulls the other part of their plan out of his subspace, “Tada! It’s a spike sleeve! And its got some uh- real neat settings.”

You actually whimpered in response “Wheeljack-!” And Wheeljack feels his optics brighten and his finials flash.

“Alright- You don’t gotta beg or nothin’!” Wheeljack closes the distance and tries to put the toy on your throbbing spike- but you just keep bouncing on the false spike! It doesn’t help that you keep preemptively rutting your hips, making him miss- and he ends up dragging teasing frots of the outside of the toy against your spike. You don’t seem to mind the clumsiness- just gasping and cursing from the limited friction on your spike.

“Wheeljack just- here!” A red servo grasps over his own thats around the spike sleeve. Ratchet steadies Wheeljack's servo and Ratchets free servo grabs your hip and tries to still you- Ratchet says your designation with a bitten curse. “Hold still.” Ratchet uses his “no arguments” voice and you actually do sorta listen to him and slow down. You don’t stop but with how you were slamming down on the toy Wheeljack's surprised you were even doing that!

Wheeljack watches as Ratchet helps him line up the sleeve then helps him slide the toy onto your spike- You grunt and then whine when the sleeve registers your spike and immediately tries to milk you for everything you’ve got. Well at least it works-

Wheeljack gasps when you bounce with more force and the toy almost slides right off your spike entirely. Wheeljack forces the sleeve back down your spike so it doesn’t slip off and you groan openly when the sleeve touches your pelvis. Your spike tip peaking out of the other open end of the sleeve teasingly.

“Wheeljack- How exactly is this supposed to stay?” Ratchet asks, this time ready to help Wheeljack to keep you from bucking the sleeve right off the next slide back down the toy spike you take. The sleeve making a sound after being slathered in your spikes pre lubricant.

“Uh- Well…” Wheeljack didn’t really think you’d be this uh- drenched with fluids.

“Wheeljack-!”

“Sorry-! Uh foresight and all that-!” Wheeljack did not need to look to know Ratchet was glaring at him. Which was good because Wheeljack was a little bit caught up watching you. Wheeljack was short enough and with you on the table he can clearly see your stretched valve clench down on the toy and he can also see the false spike throb which only makes you curse.

“Is it open at the end?” Hoist asks and he’s closer- so Wheeljack glances up and sees Hoist peeking over Ratchets pauldron to stare down at the toys and how they were both working your array. His visor just slightly brighter than it usually would be- If they were doing literally anything else Wheeljack would just think it was nothing. But instead Wheeljack can see Hoist's plating twitch when you moan on your next slide back off the toys girth. “I thought we'd decided on a closed model. Won’t that-… make a mess when they overload?”

“It was- A practical design choice for- well” Perceptor's voice is real close to his audial so Wheeljack can only assume he’s leaning over Wheeljack's pauldron to keep the view. “Clean up for the toy mostly- also so the sleeve wont overheat on accident.”

Wheeljack watches your spike tip kiss the back open end of the toy at the mention of it- trying to keep his servo steady so it won’t slide right off. Because if Ratchet weren’t holding his own grip over Wheeljacks- Well... Wheeljack would’ve probably worked to milk your spike at the same pace as your desperate hips were fragging yourself back down the false spike.

Speaking of which the toy actually slips out of your valve on your next slide up and your hips jut making the false spike slide past your aft. “Frag- frag-!” You try and reposition the spike back inside you on the next slide down- and the toy doesn’t catch on your hole and slides against your inner thigh making you whine. “Please- please-! Please-” You start begging and thankfully someone else steps up to help before him. So Wheeljack doesn’t have to feel guilty about being so hot and bothered and also a pervert for trying to get the toy back into your soaked valve.

Hoist was thankfully that pervert instead. “Hold on just-” Hoist rests his modified arm on your knee, the barrel of his attachment almost brushing against Ratchets servo- (which Wheeljack just lately realized was still gripping your hip) Hoist's servo grabs the base of the toy. Than he angles the spike when you lift your hips, your helm instinctively tilting to see the movement between your thighs. The spike head slots between your valve mesh and catches on the rim of your hole.

“Yes- yeah!” You moan loud but the sound still isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the toy sinking back into your soaked valve. Hoist grunts when you sink back down fast enough he can’t pull his servo back yet and you end up sitting down right on his palm. Hoist getting a full grip of your aft when the toy runs out of length.

Hoist does pull his servo away ....after three more full drops of your hips anyway. Hoist's gun muzzle was still on your thigh though-

Yeah, Wheeljack’s kinda glad they were taking care of this now. He could only imagine what would’ve happened if they’d left you loose in The Ark like this. Another greedy drag of your hips has the toy bottoming back out in your seemingly insatiable valve yet again. The toy utterly soaked in your own fluids and slick drenching your inner thighs. The mess you’ve made out of the table top and your own valve right here for anyone to see.

Wheeljack can’t exactly stop himself from imaging you bouncing down one of their actual spikes, when he thinks about them not being quick enough to stop you from going off on your horny lonesome. Maybe getting up to it with one of them and it turning into one big frag session for anyone that wanted to join. Wheeljack doesn’t exactly think all the other Autobots would have the same level of will power as them. Though even with that said-

Wheeljack can feel Perceptor's own em field that’s just coaxing against his own frame due to how close they are to each othet right now- and he can blatantly feel the arousal peeking out from it. Wheeljack hears an audible swallow on his side from the other when you moan again. He also hears Perceptor's plating softly clink like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Ratchet wasn’t glaring at him anymore optics focusing on your over active array- optics flickering from spike to your valve. And maybe he was imaging it, but Wheeljack swears Ratchet’s servo over his own starts speeding up how quickly they were dropping the sleeve down your spike.

Wheeljack’s optics follow Ratchets other servo on your hip to the muzzle of Hoists gun attachment still resting heavy on your thigh. And Wheeljack knows he’s not imagining Hoist’s muzzle trying to follow the rhythm you’d set. His modified arm almost lightly urging you down every time you sank back down the toy.

Yeah... at least Wheeljack’s not the only perv here.

You groan openly and Wheejacks rather abruptly dragged right out of his observations when you still and paw at the table and start overloading unabashedly. Ratchet jerks to the side to avoid getting your transfluid on him. Thick heavy ropes of your transfluid shoot out of the gap in the top of the spike sleeve with every throb of your spike. Pink streaked out onto the floor and on part of the table and- oh yeah the toy’s features!

You bite down on your bottom derma and keen when the false spike registers the overload and throbs, spilling lubricant right into your waiting valve. Lubricant and your valves slick treks out of your hole and onto the table top making an even bigger mess. When your overload stops racking your frame your mouth opens and you start panting rapid vents. The air near your mouth fogging from the heat of your own frame and your glossia dusting your bottom derma. A stray string of drool rolls down your own throat cables. Expression blissed out of it and obviously satisfied.

Wheeljack registers wet on his digit and looks down at the sleeve.

There's a stray string of your transfluid that rolled down your spike tip and down the edge of the sleeve- and down to where Wheeljack's servo was resting. Wheeljack can feel Ratchet's servo twitch over his own when you groan again.

And Ratchet says he wasn’t the responsible kind...

[prinzrupprecht]

When they hurt your feelings

Featuring: Tesla, Qin, Anubis, and Thor ( part 3 )

Idk if I’ll do part 4 unless people request characters I have not done. Also sorry for the Okita spam lately.

Part 1 and Part 2

Warnings: A bit suggestive with Anubis, name calling / swearing

Tesla

You had been married to Tesla for years but one thing he gets pissy about is when anyone touches his experiments. It’s not you but he gets irritated and has to start over from scratch.

Though, what you had done wasn’t on purpose. It was an accident when you walked into his ‘Hyper God House’ because that is what Tesla called it or whatnot. It made no sense to you it doesn’t bother you what he called things. He was testing wireless transmissions. He was so heavily induced in his work that you haven’t talked to him in a few days.

You didn’t see him in his workshop and you decided to walk over to see the blueprints that were laid out on his desk. He was dedicating his time more to this research than being at home. You were a bit saddened but he told you before marrying you that his research would always take priority and you were fine with it. Were you fine? He still showed his care and never missed any important days or holidays.

“Seriously? What is this…” you touched one of his wireless experiments but barely and that’s when you heard the door open.

“Why are you in here? I told you to not come in here if I’m not here,” he swatted your hands away from his work area. You were offended and stepped away from him. He was never mean to you and was always enthusiastic about his work.

“I’m starting to believe you don’t even care for me, I haven’t seen you in days! Maybe I should move out,” you were about to leave but he blocked the entrance. You weren’t wanting to deal with him any longer.

Tesla had realized his words were a bit too harsh despite his social awareness he changed the topic. “You know this is important to me, the evolution is nearly here. I’m this close with my wireless lighting invention. Using these would generate high AC voltages, it’ll take some time but I’ll get there.” Tesla changed the mood and all you could do was sigh.

“Here, take a break. You look like you haven’t slept at all,” you grabbed his arm and he nearly tumbled forward but you caught him.

“This is why I need you here with me,” he whispered in your ear. You didn’t want to leave him but you wanted his affection. You had assisted him in many of his experiments and inventions.

Finally, you had helped him through the house and into your shared room to sleep. “I’ll get you something to drink and eat,” but he grabbed your wrist before you could leave.

“I need you to stay here for a bit longer. Having you here with me would clear my head a bit.” He was tired and groggy but you obliged to his request. You put a hand on his forehead and chest and laid down next to him snuggled into his side.

You were glad he was still himself even when he was a science die-hard nerd.

Qin Shi Huang

He was a king and you were just someone that he acknowledged in his kingdom and nation. He was emperor of China and you were someone of lowly status not worth his time. That all changed when he saw how strong you were protecting the people in a small village from some weak demon like the previous Chiyou who ruled China.

He admired your fighting skills and spirit and offered you to fight alongside him against his enemies in China. You scoffed and refused at first. He may be the handsome king of China, but you weren’t easily swayed by his presence.

After some time, he watched you practice with the spear and archery. You were skilled and much better than some of the warriors that serve him. Before you could catch him spying on you, he was already gone.

Not so much later, you met him again unexpectedly fighting in a war to protect his country. Your country as well from someone who hated him and those who killed his adopted mother. You stepped in to help him beat them but almost at the cost of your life to protect the emperor when someone almost struck him from behind.

The blow you took was almost fatal. Qin cursed himself and started yelling in frustration. He called you reckless and foolish. He was quick and had to carry you back with some of his allies aiding your injury that had struck you in the side. The blood loss was major. Qin was hopeful you’d make a full recovery and this time, you weren’t going to do something so dramatic for him again.

He could’ve easily dodged the man who tried to sneak attack him, yet you took the hit for him? “You’re still here?” your voice was hoarse and filled with pain. Qin was hiding behind the doors to the room he told his guards to put you in.

“You didn’t even need to do that, why? Why throw your life away like that?” Qin was angry but you didn’t look at him.

“I’ve always been a bit jealous of how you had everything and my home and village was gone. Nothing left for them— my family and friends. You hurt me the most with the failures of your orders that led to this war. I didn’t want to be like you, I’d rather someone like you live with the consequences and pain.” Your words struck Qin with horror. He was mad how you could say that to him— your king!

“You don’t know me then. I grew up as a cursed child abandoned by my parents and hated by my own people. Let me make it up to you… and to those you had lost.” Qin walked over to your bedside and you noticed markings covering the side of his body painfully.

“What? You got injured too?” You were terrified and didn’t know what you were seeing. His blindfold was off and he had opened his mouth to explain to you that he has mirror touch synthesis. Every time he sees someone else get injured, he would also feel that person's pain.

“S— Stop that! You shouldn’t hurt yourself for my sake.” You were trying so hard to turn away and hope he would leave.

“No. I don’t want you to be alone. At least not under my empire. I’ll make sure everyone lives prosperously.” Qin proudly says and you can see how happy he was despite the pain he felt because of you.

“That sounds… lovely. I want to live in that place that you say is prosperous.”

Anubis

He wasn’t someone you had expected to grow fond of over the years when his father became the king of Duat. You were happy with the new changes in Egypt before the ball dropped on you that he was supposed to be engaged to an Iranian goddess Anahita who was a cunning woman. Anubis on the other hand wasn’t mad or pissed. He looked more happy with her and even followed her around the palace.

Your jealousy shot through the roof when she started to compliment his body. She was immensely annoying and you wanted to find a way out of the place. You disliked her. With immense passion.

“Hey wait up! Wait up! You left so quickly, wow you’re fast.” Anubis ran after you but you couldn’t help but want to ask him why. Why did he agree to that agreement to marry such a useless goddess? Yes, useless since she was only of love and fertility and cared for making love and seducing men.

As you were going to say something, Anahita appeared behind him and gave you a very unauthentic smile as she grabbed onto his arm and leaned her head into him. Too close… you wanted to call her something but held your tongue back. “oh, it’s you young lady of Sumerian. Anubis here was just dining with me and trying out the new fine foods Egypt has to offer. You know I wonder, why haven’t you returned back to Uruk?” Anahita grinned and made a popping sound from her lips.

“Hm, I think you’re right. Maybe I will, I hope you two the best.” You courtly lowered your head before walking away. What hurt you the most was the fact Anubis didn’t say anything or run after you.

You saw Isis near the main hall with her daughter Bastet. “You look… mad?” Bastet observed you but Isis already knows why you look upset and tilted.

“I’m leaving, don’t bother your energy with me. I don’t have time for it.” You snapped but Isis scoffed.

“Set got into your head again didn’t he?” Isis leaned back on her chair at the end of the table.

“What do you mean? He told me lord Anubis is engaged to that… that woman and she is here!” You didn’t even know it, but your hands were clenching tightly turning your hands white. The anger was surging through you and everything you had with him was gone.

“She is just here visiting my dear. My dear son Anubis has already declined her proposals.” You gave Isis a blank expression. Bastet snorted a laugh but held herself back before wanting to get into the conversation.

“It doesn’t matter he— he won’t even stick up for me. Why should I even stay here?” Your feelings should matter but did they even matter to him?

Before Isis was going to refute your claims, you had already stormed back to your room. You were tired and fed up with them. Your father Marduk wouldn’t be pleased with this. You had thought for the longest time the deal would be you marry Anubis and the trade negotiations between your two countries would continue.

“Finally I caught up to you! You keep running off,” Anubis was alone and gave you sad eyes. Finally… that weirdo goddess wasn’t with him. You couldn’t help but wonder if they… did it. Your body shudders at the thought.

“Leave me alone, I don’t want to see you.” You stubbornly turned away and entered your room. Anubis stood outside with a hurt and confused expression. You never said such words to him.

“Did I— Did I do something? I’m sorry, I’m sorry if do something wrong!“ Anubis saw you grabbing your things and panic took over him. He grabbed your arms and pulled you into him as he held onto you. His warms were tightly wrapped around your waist as your back was pressed up against his chest.

“Did you like her? That goddess…” you were frozen in his arms.

“Who? Oh! Her? Miss Ana— something? I am only loyal to you! I swear it! Let me prove it to you. Pretty, pretty please?” he gripped your sides and you could feel how desperate he was to keep you with him.

Let’s say it was a long night.

Thor

He was affectionate to you in private, but at the same time apathetic around you in public. He cares for you in mysterious ways, but he was bloodthirsty for battles and rarely was home. He puts you down as someone weaker than most gods and shouldn’t get in the way of others in battle. You wanted to prove yourself useful somehow as a goddess of sorcery and magic. You even sought the valkyries to help you.

Forseti was the most annoying man to even be around with and you could swear he was the one married to Thor and not you sometimes. Being a part of the Norse pantheon made you wonder if there was more out there than what was in the palace. Valhalla was a strange place and if Thor was having fun on his own, maybe you should too.

You must’ve been hours away from Asgard and one thought made you want to explore more of Valhalla but you didn’t want to go back just yet. Many wonders had you curious. The scenery was beautiful seeing the open mountains, blue skies and rivers.

“What might you be doing?” A slithering voice jumped down from one of the trees. Ew… you crossed your arms unimpressed. You were a sorceress, no way you would let some creature man or whatever he was intimidate you whatsoever.

“Leave me alone, I have no interest.” You flicked part of your hair back and was going to walk passed him. Something must’ve struck a nerve because the creepy guy with a long tongue tried to grab you.

“Is that so?” You tried to move back a bit and use one of your fire defence spells to burn his hands from touching you.

“You stupid cunt,” the man’s hand grew several times larger as claws were aimed at you. Oh, dear… fuck. You wish you had told Thor where you had gone to.

“Fuck you!” You pointed one of your fingers at him and tried to form a bit of lightning in the palm of your hands that Thor taught you a long time ago. You tried to deflect the creature’s attack but it was to amplify the damage but he managed to hit you pretty well.

You almost didn’t notice your side was hit but the man had a devious look on his face. “I would like to keep you alive for my own pleasures~” he licked his lips as you nearly gagged. You would kill yourself before he would touch you!

Just as you were preparing for an immediate attack, someone crashed down onto the serpent. Your eyes widened in shock. You noticed Thor’s hammer appeared right in front of you. It had completely pancaked the serpent or whatever creature he was. Huh? He was that weak?! You pouted as if you wanted to be the one to kill him.

“You followed me?” You turned to face him.

“Well, no. I was told you had left so I went to find you.” He noticed your side was damaged and his face contorted from the damage the serpent did to his wife.

“I’m taking you back and making sure you get healed. Next time don’t leave without telling me,” he went to pick you up and put you over his shoulders making you shriek.

“Hey wait! I can still walk!” he was carrying you and his hammer. He even teleported back to the palace in an instant. This man was full of surprises with you.

“I like taking care of what’s mine.” Meaning you and the hammer. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Thank god he couldn’t see your face since you were still hanging over his shoulder.

He dropped you off at the infirmary to get cleaned up and healed. Thor had stuck by your bedside apologizing for not being around as often. You weren’t hurt anymore but you wanted to be with him more.

“I’ll take you next time to some other places. Rest here for now.” He inhaled a sharp breath and still sat next to your bed. He would sleep in the chair if it meant you were comfortable and better.

Note: finally it’s done! Dunno what to do for the next series. Anyway, I may get back on Susano’o and Anubis one shots. Kind of miss doing them…

[jjknowsball]

Perfection Ch. 2

Summary: AU Fic where Paige is a D1 Football player and Azzi is an overwhelmed Biology major.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: None right now

Note: Trying to write over 2k words after writing 3 finals is going to take me out. I also did not proofread this at all 🙂‍↕️.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paige has done it now.

Her newfound case of an unpredictable arm has striked again. It all started with throwing three interceptions at last week’s at home rival game versus Tennessee. She can remember everything from her coach’s thrown clipboard, the fans throwing their hands up in frustration, and KK’s worried look through her helmet.  

She still hasn’t been able to get the shit-eating grin that Samara Spencer had on her face as she gracefully accepted the ball thrown by Paige.

Now she has taken out her roommate who is currently lying on the turf after tumbling down from the sidewalk from above.  The girl’s leg was bent in an awkward position and her clothes were covered in a layer of dirt.

Out of anyone else on campus, she had to take out her already stressed out, three seconds away from spontaneous combustion, roommate.

“YOU KILLED HER” KK, Uconns star wide receiver, yelled . She had taken it upon herself to shake Paige’s shoulders to emphasize the point as she pointed to the unconscious girl. 

At this rate, Paige was never going to touch the field again. She could see the headlines now-

“Local Star quarterback caught in throw-and-run against her own roommate.” 

After that it would be the media coverage- with a terrible picture of her from her awful digital footprint from high school. The awful matching neon Nike fit with the matching headband would be the last thing people would remember her by. Then she was going to spend the rest of her life in jail making sneakers out of cardboard boxes. 

“Chill” Paige says in an attempt to calm not only her nerves but her teammates too. “We can take her to the athletic training room.” 

She goes to touch Azzi’s neck when she notices two things. One she definitely has a pulse and she looks strangely at peace for somebody who just got taken out by a football.

“If she doesn’t have a pulse, I am pretty sure your trunk is big enough to-“ Ice, UConn’s tight end, chimes in. 

“Don’t even finish the rest of that sentence” Paige said as she rubbed her temple. She goes to pick up Azzi by her back in one arm while using her other arm to carry her legs. She starts to carry the girl towards the athletic facility with her teammates in tow.

———-

When Azzi comes to, the first thing that she thinks about is how bad her head hurts and where the hell is she .

The room is huge, with an abundance of athlete training bed and not the cheap family practice ones that had to be covered with the paper that crinkled with every movement. These beds could be adjusted at three different points with the schools logo and cabinets underneath.

There was a sauna next to the indoor pool & spa. The facility even had a small smoothie bar with 30 different flavors. All she could think about was the fact that the athletic facility alone put the science building to shame. One of the beds alone could fix three labs. 

Azzi was so inthralled with how the facility looked she didn’t notice the fact that Paige was right next to her on the small rolling chair. She was sitting there calmly with her AirPods in with only a Nike sports bra and sweatpants. 

Her glistening abs on display as she was thinking about something like football plays or how many girls she was going to have in her bed tonight. 

“Do you always try to wear as little as possible” Azzi said as she grimaced, reaching out for her leg and ankle.

She hadn’t realized how bad she was hurting until now. She was bleeding through her leggings around her knee and her ankle hurt like hell. 

“You’re Alive” Paige says immediately jumping up from the chair.  “ You have been out for almost 30 minutes now.”

This causes Azzi to sit up, she realizes that she is not only late to dinner with Caroline and Ines but her study room reservation in the library. 

“Don’t move” Paige said  impulsively grabbing her thigh to keep her in place before quickly moving her hand as her ears go red “let me help you up.” 

“ I think you have done enough” Azzi says in protest, still trying to wiggle off the table. 

“I know I am the whole reason why you are in this mess but please let me help you.” Paige pleads. Her eyes filled with guilt as she looked up at the younger girl. 

Despite Azzi being extremely reluctant, she decides to let Paige do her thing as there isn’t much she can do about it. 

Paige goes to grab the athletic tape before moving towards  Azzi’s bad knee. She looks up at Azzi to get her approval before she starts to hike up Azzi’s leggings after her nod. 

Maybe it is just the fact that Azzi hasn’t been with anyone in a long time but Paige’s soft touches as she wraps  the tape around her knee has caused her to become flustered. 

Once Paige is done, she moves lower towards her ankle as she tries to flex it.  Trying to figure out if it was a low-grade sprain or worse.

“Ouch!!” Azzi yelled with tears starting to form in her eyes. 

“You’re doing so good for me, Az, I am almost done.” Paige says not giving it any thought as she gets the brace to wrap around her ankle. If Azzi had thought her stomach had dropped from the touches earlier, that statement certainly didn’t help.

Why does she always have to talk like this.

 “Don’t call me that” Azzi says as she begins to pout with her hands thrown over her chest. Paige laughs it off before offering  her hand.

“Can you stand by yourself” Paige ask

“Mmhm” Azzi answers back while trying to balance herself. “I really need to g—“

“Let me take you out to dinner-“ Paige blurts out trying to stop the younger girl from leaving. “It’s the least I could do since the dining hall is closed”

It’s not the best recovery but Azzi decides to let Paige off the hook based off of how red she was turning.

“What ever you say, Madison” Azzi agreed as she started to limp off “As long as we eat it in the library”. Paige throws on her hoodie before following in tow.

——-

It takes 45 minutes for them to make it to the library due to Azzi’s indecisiveness.

“Azzi, I am sure what ever you pick is going to be great.” Paige exclaimed trying to hurry the girl along. It was almost as if she forgot that they had to make it to the library in 15 minutes 

She couldn’t decided between a subway flatbread, a qdoba bowl, or a soup and a salad meal from Panera. In the time that it had taken Azzi to look at the 3 options, Paige had ordered Chick Fil A and had already eaten half her fries. 

“Everything looks so good” Azzi exclaims, clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Paige not being able to wait any longer decides to order for her. She walks over to the Panera kiosk and begins to press different buttons, ignoring Azzi questioning looks from over her shoulder. Paige pulls her card out when Azzi decides to speak up

“ What did you order?”

“It’s a surprise” 

“What if I don’t like it” Azzi ask again 

“You will” Paige answers with a wink before grabbing the food and pulling it out of Azzi’s reach.

———-

They make it to the study room with  two minutes to spare. As they both get situated in, Paige finally hands Azzi her bag of food. 

Inside was broccoli and cheese soup and a chipotle chicken avocado melt.

Her usual

“How did you know?”

“You always leave the other half of the meal in the refrigerator, so I figured you would like it” Paige said sheepishly. 

From that statement alone, Azzi quickly realized that Paige knew things about her and the only thing Azzi knew about Paige was her late night hook-ups. 

It almost made her feel bad about the mean things she had wish on the girl like the shower running cold mid-session or her roof falling in when she got too loud. 

Almost

“I know a lot about you Az, even if you won’t talk to me and just stay in your dorm all day” Paige bantered.

“I said don’t call me that” Azzi said as she pouted “And I don’t stay in my dorm all day”

“Second times a charm?”Paige says, as she shrugs leaning back in her chair. 

“ That isn’t even how the saying goes, stupid” Azzi half laughed as she pushed the blondes chair. Mid-laugh, She notices the clock on the wall: 9:30

“ Ok I really need to lock in now”

———-

In Azzi’s defense she really tried to study her 11 fundamental groups. But Paige’s antics aren’t really the best for a study environment. 

Her notes have been long forgotten and are sprung across the L shaped desk and are borderline in Azzi’s area. The football player has her music blasting through her AirPods and is watching film from what looks like last week’s game. The announcer play-by-play filling up the room. 

Despite Azzi not caring about the school football team, she wasn’t stupid. Paige’s last performance had been the talk of the campus, with many people say that there was no hope for a championship and that Paige’s draft stock would fall. Azzi could tell that it was bothering the older girl as she was entranced by the screen, analyzing every play. 

“ Do you want to talk about the game”

Azzi questioned as she put her textbook in her bag.

“Nothing to talk about” Paige said unfazed as she continues to watch the screen. 

But the way her leg bounces and the fact that she was almost about to bite off her bottom lip doesn’t go unnoticed by Azzi. 

“I know we are not friends or anything, but I get the whole having a whole bunch of expectations on you or trying to be perfect” 

Paige nodded her head, seeming to think about the other girls words, appreciating them. There a moment of silence before Paige says anything. 

“Who said we weren’t friends?” Paige says trying to deflect and Azzi accepts the fact that the girl would rather not talk about it. 

“We live in the same dorm and we don’t even talk to each other.”

“Well maybe if someone left their room, we could’ve talked over a bowl of ice cream or something.”

“ I already told you that I do leave my room” Azzi groans out. She starts to feel bold as she is tired of Paige making her seem like some shut-in nerd. 

Maybe it’s also some of Paige’s cockiness wearing off on her.

“Who is to say that we can’t go right now” 

Paige’s eyebrows raise at Azzi’s newfound attitude.  

“You are sassier than I thought, Jazlyn. If we hurry right now we can make it to the Dairy Bar before they close” 

———-

The Dairy bar is surprisingly packed for 10:30 on a Tuesday night. The inside sitting area was full with people and ambiance.

Azzi is basically radiating excitement as it has been a while since she had step foot in the ice cream parlor. It totally beat the freezer burn ice cream that she had to settle for.

“Do you know what you want” Paige had asked ahead of time not wanting a repeat of what had happened at dinner. 

“Two scoops of Vanilla ice cream, with  sprinkles and a little caramel” the brunette said as if it was the easiest decision in the world. “How about you?”

“ I wasn’t really trying to get anyth-“ the blonde is cut off by the younger girl looking at her as if she had just betrayed her. “I was thinking a small mint chocolate chip cone”

Despite Azzi’s personal opinion about mint chocolate chip ice cream she is just happy that the other girl isn’t going to leave her hanging by making her get ice cream by herself. 

Azzi is the first one to order, so she takes her card out only to be intercepted by Paige who lightly pushes her aside taking her card out of her hoodie. 

“It’s the least I can do since I nearly killed you today” Paige whispers as she taps the card and who is Azzi to argue against her ( and free ice cream.) 

They decide to take their ice cream outside to a bench that over looks  the campus lake. The scene is so peaceful with the lapping of the water and the light chatter in the distance. They discuss everything from their very busy schedules, to Azzi’s job at the daycare, and Paige even tells a funny story about how the time she woke up covered in bubble wrap curtesy of her teams after an injury scare. 

They somehow get on the topic of parties and Azzi can feel her stomach drop for the second time of the day. 

“I bet you haven’t even been to a party here” 

“I totally have been to a UConn party”

“Let me guess, it was a biology “party” where y’all trade notes while guessing what came next in a genetics sequence” Paige barely laughs out before doubling over. Her ice cream cone almost tumbling out of her hand 

Azzi didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was spot on. Her first party was hosted by the biology department with DNA banners and mock tails in beakers. She had thought it was the coolest thing ever until Paige made her feel like a nerdy middle schooler. 

“Nope it was a totally normal college party, with a pool, drinks, and plenty of people hooking-up” Azzi says unconvincingly, completely flustered. 

“Uh huh” Paige chuckles out not believing the younger girl at all. 

“ Well, I can’t have you graduate with going to THE UConn Party.” Paige emphasizes “ You should totally come to my birthday party, which is also a halloween party, hosted by the football team” 

The Older girl gives her all the details on the walk home about the Saturday night party that would take place at a fancy airbnb where half of the school would show up.

——-

Once they finally make it back to the dorm, they go to their respected rooms. 

Azzi collapses on the bed before turning on her phone which was in surprisingly good condition considering her fall. 

Her phone had multiple missed messages and calls (mainly from Caroline threatening to fill out a missing persons report.) 

Azzi decides to put her girls out of their misery and inform them on why she missed out on their nightly dinner. 

She answers the FaceTime with the biggest smile on her face before saying. 

“You guys won’t believe what just happened.”

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲

Summary: Tyler’s always wanted to show you something he loved—it just took some bad weather for it to appear. [Tyler Owens x Reader] [WC:2.6k}

Warnings: language, college-aged Tyler & reader, fluff, romance, this is a comedy? Idk folks. No smut though—sry :/. Just good ole fashion kissin’ in the rain. And what if I said this story was my real life experience, then what?

Quick Links: Masterlist [including other twisters fics]

“Where are we going?”

The tires of the truck were clunking along the rocky path to… well, nowhere. Thick trees surrounded you; the sun barely peeking through them as it began to decline in the sky and yet the truck kept tumbling along.

Shit. You thought for a brief moment as he didn’t reply. He might murder me.

“I told you,” his voice rang through your mind like a pinball machine. “It’s a surprise.”

“What if I said I didn’t like surprises?”

Tyler glanced at you as the truck hit a rough patch. Your hand was white-knuckling the grab handle above the window and your face was torn up in concern for the locale.

“I’d say, ‘honey’,” he put a hand on your clothed thigh. “I ain’t gonna murder you.”

“Well now that makes me think you are gonna murder me.”

Tyler laughed, squeezing your thigh joyously.

He was a maniac—Tyler Owens.

But he was also many things you did not know of yet. The first time you laid eyes on him was around eight months back when he walked in two minutes before the chemistry lecture. Every seat in the room was nearly filled except for the lone seat on the inside of the lecture hall beside you.

And when he sat there, you couldn’t focus on one goddamn thing.

It was silly—being twenty-one and having a crush on a guy in your science class. You weren’t in high school anymore but you sure as hell felt like it. When he asked for an eraser, you were too eager to provide it. One day he forgot his computer so he asked for some paper in the notebook you elected to use.

Each day you’d arrive a minute earlier than before with a childish hope that he would too and you’d be able to talk to him, learn about him. You weren’t in the same lab section so it was growing increasingly difficult to manifest a semblance of potential when it only occurred twice a week for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Fuck college schedules, is what you had concluded when he wouldn’t show up twenty minutes early to class.

Yet fate had a funny way of dictating what happens when.

Three months into class, your roommate suggested getting out and heading to a frat party one Saturday night and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there. And out of some kindness, he went out of his way to say hi to his “lecture buddy” who’d helped him in times of need.

Every class that followed grew something in you. He came early to lecture to talk to you, joking about anything but the subject and going on and on about what he wanted to do when he graduated. His smile was contagious, as with his laugh. Bellowing and loud; Tyler Owens was everyone’s friend and everyone’s crush and you happened to be lucky enough to sit beside him until it was all over.

The semester ended and your interactions with Tyler ceased.

And it made you feel a little crazy for feeling down and out about your luck. Your roommates and friends tried everything to get you on the market: going to parties, joining strange clubs, playing trivia at the bar on Wednesday nights but nothing.

It was all nothing until something caught your eye.

You saw a flier for a meteorology seminar with a guest speaker from your local news. The premise wasn’t overly exciting for any one student at the university but for you, it was interesting enough to attend on a vacant Tuesday evening.

Like fate had promised before, it dealt you a winning hand.

Tyler spotted you as you walked through the door and waved you down. In your dumps, you forgot to think his attendance was a possibility even after he mentioned time and time again that he’d love to be on television, that he’d die to help people protect themselves.

So when he got ready to leave after the lecture, you weren’t going to die without facing a fear. You had to protect yourself from another six weeks of imaginary mourning and asked for his number.

And six weeks later you concluded he was going to murder you in some remote location in the plains of Arkansas.

“I’m not gonna murder you, alright?” He chuckled. His eyes were illuminated with a mischievous glow you couldn’t escape. You saw his eyes in dreams and knew you’d never want to imagine a day without them.

Fuck, you thought. It was way too early to be thinking of that.

“Then tell me!” You looked over at him with reason. “This road is so shitty I can’t imagine what’s on the other end!”

“Paradise, baby!” He smiled. “When I was a kid, my pops used to take me and my brother down here to go fishing. It’s this picnic area that I think,” he glanced at you with raised eyebrows, “no one else knows about. So don’t go runnin’ and tellin all them about this, ok?”

Oh.

It was personal.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“When my grandpa died I was,” he thought back on it as if it were long ago. “Nine and I came here with my mom and just sat. We stared out at the water and watched the ducks and the birds fly over until the sun went down. This was his spot and he passed it on to me.”

You suddenly felt an urge of regret pass over you as the comments from before soured.

“Tyler,” you said solemnly. “I didn’t—“

He brushed the nonverbal apology away.

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “There are plenty of reasons why you could have felt that way.”

It was heartwarming that Tyler didn’t dismiss your fears. There were so many guys, barely men, who would have called you crazy for a lot less. Tyler never made you feel that way.

Being with him was like chasing a high of the greatest strengths. Everything he did revolved around his ability to be free and willing to do what scared him the most and it was enchanting.

You could feel the sparks hit your heart.

“I’ve never taken anyone there before.”

“No?”

“You’d be the first.”

The two of you let that sit in the air as the road became more suitable for driving. The smoothness was welcome as his admission settled between you.

The first. He thought you special enough to be the first person to witness this place. You could have been ten feet tall at that moment. Never had anyone ever made you feel so special.

As the roads improved, the clearings of trees and bushes began to open up to a wider area with a paved lot on a taller hill.

It was beautiful.

Only the fairy tales could conjure a place like that. Billowing pines and lush greens on the bank of a river cut off by a large damn. The rushing water filled your ears amidst the squawking of wildlife uninterrupted by human activity.

It was so peaceful, charming.

The sun’s orange rays twinkled down onto the water and made it sparkle. Flowers in bloom, the buzzing of cicadas at the arrival of a hot and early spring warmed your cheeks as Tyler put the truck into park.

He watched you take in your surroundings of pure nature. A slight awe in your eyes, shallow breath at the sights. You were a vision in his favorite place.

“I thought we could have dinner here,” he tipped his head to the back seat where he had plastic Walmart bags full of food, unprepared and prepared for whatever fit your fancy. “And then, if we’re lucky, maybe it will rain.”

“Rain?” You turned to meet his eyes and they crinkled at the sides. Endearing, charming—just like this place.

Tyler hummed. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of rain?”

His words quickly became a joke. You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. It was solid under your touch and you were reminded that he was real. It wasn’t a fairytale and you were very much living it.

“Ha-ha,” you replied dryly.

“I’ll keep that one as a surprise.”

“I checked the weather before we left and,” you pointed to the sky. “No rain.”

Tyler unbuckled himself and opened his door.

“They just don’t see what I do.”

“And what’s that?” You asked him but he shut the door, moving to the backseat to take out the bags of items he procured, and then as ever the gentleman, opened your own door.

“Magic.”

You laughed but he was being serious. His eyes still gleamed with the same sly nature he was born with, but his touch was comfort. Hands carefully guiding you to a spot that he had meticulously planned out—even if this appeared to be a spur of the moment outing for you.

Everything was planned. Tyler wasn’t going to take just anyone to this spot. He’d be a fool to lie and say he hadn’t spoken to his mother about his plans just to hear her perspective on whether it was creepy, brilliant, or just plain sad.

However, he carried on to face his fears of bringing someone he liked to a place near-sacred to him. Tyler wasn’t a fool of love, he just hadn’t found anyone worth sharing these bits of him. And he also didn’t expect the feeling to come about so quickly.

Those fears he let simmer never truly came about in the reality he lived.

You were smitten. Absolutely fallen into this little spot in this tiny corner of the world with a man who was opening up before you. Tyler made the puzzle pieces of a perfect date fit together wonderfully.

The food, the drinks, the atmosphere—he hit an apex of the paragon of “partner,” “boyfriend,” or “lover.”

And you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as the sun began to truly fade.

You took a sip of your drink, coming down from a high of laughter at a story Tyler shared at his brother’s detriment. The sky was a shimmering shade of reds and deepening blues now; orange melting away for the sake of night.

“No rain,” you pointed out. He shrugged his shoulders, moving from a lounging position on the worn blanket to a lying one. His arms perched behind his head.

Tyler stared at the stars beginning to form.

He could see the shapes of the clouds, the movement quickening and the air cooling. It was as special as this place, his talent for finding the storms. Whether they brew inside or out, he found them and chased them with a passion—unrelenting and fierce. He sought the thrill.

“The night’s not over yet,” he said coolly. “Don’t count me out.”

“I’m not counting you out,” you defended, moving scraps of discarded food away from you to lay next to him. You shuffled to get comfortable in his vicinity.

“How often do you stargaze?” Tyler asked.

“Not often. I don’t think there’s an opportunity for it when I have nowhere to go.”

He agreed with a grunt. “I think you’re lookin’ in the wrong spots, honey.”

Oh those godforsaken nicknames. The country in him seeped out at their mention.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he removed his arms from the back of his head and pointed to the now appearing stars the darker it became. “See here?”

You moved closer. “Not really.”

“There,” he pointed again. “Right there in the middle of those two clouds.”

There were two stories at play here: one of him proving that rain was coming in the guise of stars and the second of you trying to be aloof in order for him to touch you.

You’d spent the last hour with him. Watching him talk, eat, smile, and laugh at anything that brought him joy. Those lips begged you to kiss them. They beckoned you like a ship lost at sea and in the clouds, the water would find it.

You shook your head innocently.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at, Ty.”

“Here,” he took your hand in his and pointed to the stars. “Look.”

In the sky above, a faint outline of the Little Dipper appeared in your vision. You smiled lightly. His hand with his finger pointing was still outstretched and connected to yours which made it grow wider.

You were giddy.

Tyler moved his finger to fully cup your hand but as you kept looking at the sky, he looked at you. You could feel his eyes on you, the turn of his face and the low breaths he released through his nose.

“What else do you see?” He asked lowly.

You breathed in deeply. It was just too beautiful to explain one thing. The clouds grew thicker, dense in the night as light was swallowed up by the moon. The air was now cool enough to send a chill down your spine and wish the blanket was more than a thin excuse for a sheet.

“It’s getting cloudy,” you observed. “There are more stars and it’s cooling off.”

“Anything else?”

“It’s just beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

“I’m can—“

You stopped mid-sentence at the sensation that hit your cheek.

It wasn’t air or breath or a bug or grass but a wetness that could have come from only one place: the sky. You waited for another to fall and it did not a second later. A third and fourth drop followed until it was a hundred drops or more into a steady downpour.

You scoffed in disbelief, sitting up to feel the rain in your palms and Tyler sat up too. His laugh was one of joy that followed yours.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed as the water began to drench the area around you and your clothes.

“I told you!” Tyler shouted over the rain falling harder and harder. You blinked at him.

“How’d you know!?”

“Just did!”

“And what’s so magical about getting rained on?” You asked him.

He didn’t have a solid plan if it rained. All he knew is that he had seen this in the movies. A downpour catches two people in the rain and it creates one thing: magic. It’s innocent and daring, carefree and transparent. Rain makes lovers fall in love. It binds them to one spot, one moment in time where all the elements line up to craft one singular point that would forever be cemented in their memory.

“I don’t know,” he confessed.

Tyler positioned one hand to lean on behind your back while the other cupped your face. The rain dropped onto his hand but you were warm against the coldness of his hands. Your eyes glistened at him as the movies described.

“I don’t know what’s so magical about it.”

“Me either.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked him. It wasn’t a question, per se. He was going to kiss you.

Tyler nodded his head, leaning in to meet your lips as the rain fell harder around you both. The sound of the rain disappeared when his lips met yours. Only the beat of your heart, the rush of your blood flooded your ears and body. You lifted a hand to grip his arm as he tilted his head, using his leverage to position you the way he wanted and deepened the kiss.

You could feel the tendrils of a story weaving in your bones. The place, the time, the kiss… it was a fairytale.

You dropped everything and kissed him in the pouring rain in a spot now forever implanted in your history, you felt the sparks fly higher.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[thegroovyarchives]

Old Navy Compilation CDs 1996-2003

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x) Track Listings under the Read More

Old Navy Loves You, 2000 Could It Be I'm Falling In Love - Spinners Baby I Love You - Aretha Franklin I Can't Help Myself - The Four Tops Betcha By Golly, Wow - The Stylistics Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye Something - Sarah Vaughan What You Won't Do For Love - Bobby Caldwell Baby Come To Me - Regina Belle Forget Me Nots - Patrice Rushen Runaway Love - Linda Clifford Got To Love Somebody - Sister Sledge Bill Withers and Grover Washington, Jr. - Just The Two Of Us Old Navy Beach Party, 1999 Boy From Ipanema - Crystal Waters Wipe Out - The Surfaris Surf City - Jan & Dean Summer In The City - The Lovin' Spoonful Under The Boardwalk - The Drifters Sunny Afternoon - The Kinks California Nights - Lesley Gore Groovin' - The Rascals Suavecito - Malo In The Summertime - Mungo Jerry Pipeline - The Chantays Summersong - Roy Orbison Old Navy: Cool Kids & Groovy Grown-Ups, 1996 The Name Game - Shirley Ellis Lollipop - The Chordettes Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow - The Persuasions Alley-Oop - The Hollywood Argyles Rock-in Robin - Bobby Day Don't Worry, Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin Coconut - Harry Nilsson Splish Splash - Bobby Darin Shimmy, Shimmy, Ko-Ko Bop - Little Anthony & The Imperials The Loco-Motion - Little Eva Yakety Yak - The Coasters See You Later Alligator - Bill Haley & His Comets Old Navy: Hits of '80s - New Wave Faves, 2001 Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - Eurythmics She Blinded Me With Science - Thomas Dolby Rebel Yell - Billy Idol Rock This Town - Stray Cats She Drives Me Crazy - Fine Young Cannibals I Melt With You - Modern English Too Shy - Kajagoogoo Karma Chameleon - Culture Club Mickey - Toni Basil Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar Call Me - Blondie The Reflex - Duran Duran

Old Navy: Groove On Over, 2003 It's Rainin' Men - The Weather Girls Last Night A DJ Saved My Life - Indeep Good Times - Chic (Every Time I Turn Around) Back In Love Again - L.T.D. (featuring Jeffrey Osbourne) Shining Star - Earth, Wind & Fire Behind The Groove - Teena Marie Best Of My Love - The Emotions Lady Marmalade - Labelle Got To Be Real - Cheryl Lynn No Parkin On The Dance Floor - Midnight Star The Party Has Just Begun - Freestyle You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Sylvester

Old Navy: Dim The Lights - Smooth Sounds Of The '70s, 2003 I Keep Forgettin' - Michael McDonald Hello It's Me - Todd Rundgren What You Won't Do For Love - Bobby Caldwell Lowdown - Boz Scaggs Dream Weaver - Gary Wright Summer Breeze - Seals & Crofts "T" Plays It Cool - Marvin Gaye Everybody Loves Sunshine - Roy Ayers Ubiquity Sara Smile - Daryl Hall & John Oates Black Water - The Doobie Brothers Tin Man - America Biggest Part Of Me - Ambrosia

From Old Navy With Love, 2001 There Must Be An Angel - Eurythmics Together Forever - Rick Astley Freeway Of Love - Aretha Franklin Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield Hold Me Now - Thompson Twins I'll Tumble 4 Ya - Culture Club With Every Beat Of My Heart - Taylor Dayne (I Just) Died In Your Arms - Cutting Crew Lost In Emotion - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam Point Of No Return - Exposé Kiss On My List - Hall & Oates More, More, More, Pt.1 - Andrea True Connection

Old Navy: Get Up and Dance, 1998 Cool Places - Sparks with Jane Wiedlin We Got the Beat - Go-Go's Crush on You - The Jets Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and The Waves Let's Hear It for the Boy - Deniece Williams I Want Candy - Bow Wow Wow Walk Like an Egyptian - The Bangles Instant Replay - Dan Hartman Footloose - Kenny Loggins Sing a Song - Earth, Wind & Fire Listen to the Music - The Doobie Brothers Celebration - Kool & The Gang Old Navy Presents Retro Rock, 2002 Maggie May - Rod Stewart China Grove - The Doobie Brothers I Just Want To Celebrate - Rare Earth American Pie - Don McLean Takin' Care Of Business - Bachman-Turner Overdrive Joy To The World - Three Dog Night Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In - The 5th Dimension Proud Mary - Ike & Tina Turner Nothing From Nothing - Billy Preston Jungle Boogie - Kool & The Gang Got To Give It Up - Marvin Gaye Love Rollercoaster - Ohio Players Old Navy Summer Getaway, 2001 Hot Fun In The Summertime - Sly & The Family Stone Summertime - Billy Stewart Sun Is Shining - Bob Marley The Tide Is High - Blondie Caribbean Queen (No More Love On The Run) - Billy Ocean Too Hot - Kool & The Gang Summer Breeze - The Isley Brothers Sunshine Superman - Donovan California Dreamin' - The Mamas And The Papas A Summer Song - Chad & Jeremy Echo Beach - Martha & The Muffins In The Summertime - Shaggy (featuring Rayvon)

[pinkmirth]

What kinks do you think each Castlevania man would have? Asking for a science project

⸻ WANT & NEEDS!

MY LOVE NOTE! 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ oooh, kinks you say? >< glad you asked, nonnie! for scientific purposes only, of course . . .

CONTAINS . . . 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ multi castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, hector forgemaster, isaac forgemaster, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; praise, body worship, breeding, power play (dom/sub), edging, bdsm (flogging), explicit language, lowercase intended, not proofread (apologies for any typos!), minors shoo!

ALUCARD!

praise • he wants— no, needs to hear the effect he has on you. is he doing well? do you want it faster? are these brittle-cold hands of his any good at handling your body? it’s all he wants; to hear those sweet, sweet words tumble from your lips and grace his ears. words of affirmation is what adrian holds onto dearly. tell him you love him, just voice it out through a whisper, and he’ll melt into you with the loudest moan you’ve ever pried from him. his sounds will heighten, pace increased with a surge of fervor, a fueled drive to please you. yes, he likes being sweet-talked when it’s coming from his beloved. flatter him a bit, and he’ll surely give you a night to remember.

oh my god i’m so sorry but I’m adding another for my favorite man; body worship! • adrian is all about devotion. once he’s invested in anything, in you, he pours in everything he has to offer. alucard doesn’t take it lightly; you trusting him enough to be so vulnerable as to getting intimate with him. unclothing with him. touching yourself before him. joining your body with his own . . . letting his cock press its way into your tight, delicate entrance. it’s an honor, and he sees it as such. his lips never leave your skin, kissing along your neck as he rolls his hips into you, fucking deep into your warmth. ‘thank you,’ he whimpers, tone low but light as a whisper, ‘thank you, my love . . .’ his hands, big and cold, trail along your hips, against your tummy, around your ass, anywhere he can grace with his cool touch. he likes when you voice your approval of him, but loves to praise you all the more.

TREVOR!

breeding • there’s no denying; it took this man no time at all to get sypha pregnant! and god, if that doesn’t convince you, than nothing else can. he fucks with reckless abandon, and finishes inside as it’s his favorite place to do so. he’ll keep you stuffed with him, cock pulsing from within you as he uses your pliant womb to empty his fat balls of the last spurt of his thick, potent cum. there’s a dopey grin he carries knowing that he’s thoroughly fucked a baby into you. perhaps he isn’t destined to be the only remaining survivor of the house of belmont, after all.

RICHTER!

flogging • he doesn’t like to punish you. no, not at all. but seemingly, you quite enjoy receiving it. when you’re working up a fit just to gauge his reaction, richter knows what to do. the unnecessary attitude, sharp mouth, huffy noises— you just want to be spanked. and so, he throws you over his lap, bunches up the frilly layers of your skirt, and allows his handheld flogging toy, purchased for moments like these, to fall upon the jiggling flesh of your round ass. you moan from the pain, and his cock throbs from beneath his trousers. again, it lashes against your bum and the contact makes you jolt in his lap, trembling over his thighs and dripping all over his flogger toy. it’s almost . . . beautiful, watching the sting of pleasure bloom into a faint, lasting red on your supple skin.

HECTOR!

power play • he may be on top, but you’re holding onto the reins. telling him to slow down, speed up, drive into you deeper; it’s all up to you. and oh, is he quick to listen. he’s a pretty little thing— handsome, intelligent, obedient. he aims for your pleasure much more than his own, sneaking beneath layers of fabric to eat you out, determined to make you cum from the swipe of his tongue alone. he isn’t just doing it because you asked, no. he likes the tug of your fingers weaves through his hair, pushing his face further into your dripping cunt. he likes to be used, to be lead, to feel no regret for being vulnerable. you’re sure of what you want from hector and find no shame in demanding for more, blessing him with the direction he so desperately needs.

ISAAC!

edging • isaac simply likes the control it gives, and who is he to turn away from exercising the art of pure discipline? he feels you fluttering around him, sounds growing pitchier as you try and fuck yourself on his cock. it’s easy for him to keep you still in this angle, as he’s kneeling above you and you’re laid on your back, peering up at him with lust-blown eyes and the most desperate expression he’s ever come across. a large hand of his grabs your face, and sternly. his thrusts come to a stop. to that, you whine, but he doesn’t fucking care. you’ll learn some self-control, he’ll make sure of it; even if he’s stuffed you full and the dick has you going brainless.

DRACULA!

soft sex • dare i say this man is vanilla as fuck? he just wants to please, and coddles you throughout it all with his imposing frame. he makes up for his cold touch with the safety and experience his large hands have to offer. vlad craves pure intimacy; nothing extreme, just pure bliss.

[internetskiff]

The most powerful ability exclusive to humanity in the Half Life/Portal shared universe is our ability to just throw bullshit at the wall and see what sticks. Aperture "OSHA are the devil" Science have managed to create completely safe interconnected points in space. The same company that turns people's blood into gasoline and shoves lions and humans into the same enclosed space for the vague concept of "Science". Meanwhile Black Mesa still has to use Xen as a crossing and their teleportation device requires an entire reactor with a village's worth of staff constantly maintaining it, just to end up having most of said staff abducted by onion-headed aliens. Even the resistance hasn't managed to create completely stable teleporters with a compressed Xen relay, meanwhile Aperture just went "oh dude let's shove a black hole into a non-waterproof gun" and have just created a teleportation method that just removes Xen from the equation entirely. Doesn't change the fact they bullshat so bad they basically got themselves gassed to death, but still.

The Resistance are a good example of this too. The Combine seem to have a complete set-in-stone thought process and understanding of science which meant they didn't even begin to explore local teleportation via Xen, meanwhile a group of random human mechanics and scientists have managed to cobble together at least two semi-functional local teleporters out of scrap metal and stolen Combine tech, to the point the All-Consuming Interdimensional Empire had to straight up copy their homework. And that isn't even the only time they seem to be taking human shit to just copy the blueprints.

They 100% just yoinked the entire damn car out of that garage just to take a crack at reverse-engineering the Tau Cannon attached to it. Even Resistance weaponry somehow manages to rival or at least stand equal to Combine tech - and we're talking improvised crossbows that shoot superheated rods of rebar at the target compared to high-tech rifles that can discharge orbs of pure dark energy. The collapse of the entire Citadel is basically set into motion as a result of a cobbled together Rebel device placed into extremely capable hands.

The events of the Portal games are a case of extremely elaborate machinelike planning versus pure human improvisation, with Chell's entire escape in the first game involving her simply weaseling her way through small cracks that GLaDOS missed while setting up her ambushes, eventually turning her own rocket turret against her to destroy her.

I suppose you could argue this falls flat in Portal 2 with Wheatley, but it's important to remember he's designed to be an utter idiot, so it's safe to say he wouldn't obsess over the larger picture like GLaDOS to the point where he fails to see the cracks. Yes, he's the one that breaks Chell out of the test chambers again, and yes, he's the one that came up with the sabotage plot - but it's important to note while he knows what to target in the sabotage, when we actually get there he doesn't quite know how to sabotage it, leaving Chell to figure it out on her own. She botches the Turret Quality Control Line with some minor guidance, but it's basically completely up to her to figure out how to cut off the Neurotoxin Supply. It's through her improvisation that Wheatley even manages to get into GLaDOS' chamber, tumbling through her neurotoxin vent and shattering the glass cage she trapped Chell inside of. It's through Chell's improvisation that the Core Transfer even occurs in the first place.

The script is flipped specifically when Wheatley takes charge, because oops - turns out a mind capable of focusing on the bigger picture might be pretty important when it comes to running an entire facility powered by it's own Reactor. Wheatley just completely zeroes in on his own personal pleasure, hacking up test chambers and the objects within them to try and figure out the easiest way to get his solution euphoria as quick as possible.

Still, something that's pretty interesting is that only Wheatley has ever managed to create a trap that's impossible to foresee and avoid, something GLaDOS has repeatedly failed to do to the point she ends up commending him. I believe this is because his way of thinking is a lot closer to Chell's compared to GLaDOS'. He puts up way more of a fight as the two run through the facility trying to get to him, seemingly improvising on the spot just like Chell has been over the course of the two games. Even his lair would be impossible to survive if it weren't for a single Conversion Gel pipe he somehow failed to notice and remove.

Whether in a laboratory deep beneath the soil or an alien tower tall enough to split the clouds, the ingenuity of even a single person is enough to topple a tower or destroy a supercomputer 3 times over.

Marc Laidlaw put what I'm trying to say into a single sentence when writing for the BreenGrub twitter account:

"The superstructure is riddled with cracks."

[chidorrrita]

・❥・and I just might know you too

the worries of a scientist never go away but you make them slightly better

: ̗̀➛ viktor x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: just sweet fluff, s1 act2 vik, angst if you squint your eyes and have watched s2 (but no spoilers so don't worry)

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1k+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: My finals are coming up and I’m feeling incredibly stressed so in the spirit of things I thought of making Viktor equally stressed so we can tear our hair out together

Progress Day is only a week away and Viktor couldn’t be more stressed. He’s spent almost every day he can at his lab, opting to sleep in his makeshift bed and eating subpar cafeteria food in order to try and finish the grand machinery he and Jayce have planned to show off. 

On the rare occasion, you drop by his little lair to leave an important paper from his apartment or a home cooked meal. He gives you a curt thank you and immediately returns to work leaving no time for distraction as you are often his biggest one. You had once come with plans of eating lunch with him, which he greatly appreciated, but had to turn down as he surely would not want to leave your company and work would never be done. So you keep your visits short if only to save Jayce the headache of yet another unfinished stack of papers on his desk.

The week slowly passes, uneventful and boring with Viktor cooped up, unable to share his new findings or sassy wit, which you sorely miss, but soon Progress Day arrives. 

The entirety of Piltover is buzzing in excitement and everyone at your job can’t seem to stop talking about what “Golden Boy” Talis has in store for them this year. Although it is a very exciting day, your giddiness is not towards the new fancy technology or the colorful parade, but rather a certain, currently distressed, scientist. Your boss yells over the commotion for everyone to settle down before sulking off to his office and you count the minutes until your shift is over.

The moment the clock hand hits three you are out of there, missing your boss once again shouting over the desks demanding a thank you for half-day of work, and rush out the door and towards the trolleys taking people to the center of town. You hop on the back just as one is leaving, nearly tumbling over your impatient feet before grabbing the copper pole, watching as the buildings get smaller in the distance as you approach the ever growing academy building. Leaping off the trolley, you race inside, taking two steps at a time on the several staircases until you find yourself in front of Viktor’s lab once again.

You rap your knuckles against the door once then twice. On the other side you hear light shuffling and the sound of a metal crutch hitting the floor until the door opens to an exhausted looking Viktor. 

The bags under his eyes have gotten significantly deeper, and his suit quite wrinkled no doubt from hours of hunching over his desk. His face visibly lightens at the sight of you 

“What a welcome surprise. I thought you were coming here after the ceremony.”

You step through, eyes scanning the messy state of his lab, crumbled paper strewn about the floor and varying sizes of metal gears taking up most of his desk.

“I was but my boss let us out early today. A sign of his endless generosity.” You draw out your words, elegantly throwing your hands up, as your boss is anything but generous. Chuckling to yourself, you spin on your back foot towards Viktor, taking in his disheveled appearance, the fluffy spikes pointing in all different directions. “I hope that’s okay.”

He lets out a light laugh, nodding his head. “Of course.” 

Closing the door behind him and settling into his stool pushed to the corner of his desk, the only part that isn’t covered in gears. You saunter over, leaning against the side of the desk, peering at piles of paper with chicken scratch writing that could only belong to Viktor. How he’s able to read his notes is beyond you. One of science's greatest mysteries. 

The desk creaks as Viktor places his elbows upon it, a hand above his brow then dragging it down his face in frustration, shutting his eyes. A low grumble escapes his chest before he blurts out “I just don’t understand.” 

You turn your head slightly, but stay silent and let him continue, and he lets out another dejected sigh. “The professor won’t allow us to present our new technology. We could be changing lives right now.” 

Now you’ve never been very scientifically inclined, but you have learned that much in the field is controlled by shady deals and red tape through Viktor. This must be another one of those cases and Viktor has never been one to care for what he would call “petty office politics” even concerning the Council. 

There isn’t much you can do other than comfort him, so you take his tired hands in yours, rubbing slow circles over his overworked tendons. “I’m sorry Vik.” 

His voice softens, relaxing against your touch. “There's no need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.” 

He momentarily leaves your hold to guide you in front of him, moving his papers and patting the empty spot on the desk. You oblige and gently take a seat as to not disturb the rest of his contraptions. Opening your legs, you scoot his stool closer with your feet, and he smoothly slots in between, head resting against your chest. The soft beating of your heart calms him, and he melts further into you. 

Your hand reaches up to brush through his thick hair, tucking it behind his ear, bending down to whisper, “it will all work out. I’m sure of it.”

He snorts and gives you an incredulous look. “How can you be so confident?” 

Your reply comes easily. “Because I know you. You’ll find a way. You always have.”

Any response he had dies on his tongue and instead he gives you a sheepish smile, cheeks turning slightly red at your compliment. You smile back, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss which only turns him even more red. He retreats back to your chest, arms circling around your waist squeezing tighter than before. 

Perhaps you are right. All this will work out in the end and he can do what he set out to be. Not merely a scientist chained to create whatever his contributors wanted but someone who actually helps people. Perhaps even help the people of Zaun. Give them the same hope you have given him.

He presses a kiss just above your heart, a promise to you and himself that he will stay true to his dream. 

[misssparklingpaws]

Shadow in the Flame

Chapter 16: Roomies

They didn’t make an announcement.

No sudden declaration over breakfast. No team meeting to unveil a chore wheel. Just… subtle shifts.

Bob started using the master suite’s gym not the common. His extra uniforms quietly relocated. His sketchpad and favorite hoodie mysteriously appeared on Aria’s sofa.

He still left the room at different times, careful to keep up appearances.

But Yelena Belova had the instincts of a bloodhound and the mouth of a menace.

It started with her walking into the lounge early one morning, freezing mid-step, and narrowing her eyes at Bob.

“Is that Aria’s fluffy favorite blanket?”

Bob blinked, sipping coffee. “No?”

Yelena’s eyes narrowed further.

A few hours later, she walked past the laundry room and saw a pair of socks, golden yellow with tiny lightning bolts tumble out of a load of darks. Not Aria’s style.

The next morning, she saw Bob leave the master suite at 5:42 a.m. He tried to look casual. He looked like a cartoon burglar.

By the fourth day, she’d had enough.

“You two suck at being discreet,” she announced at breakfast, slamming her plate down between them.

Bob choked on his toast. Aria didn’t even look up from her tablet. “Yelena”

“No, no, no. Don’t ‘Yelena’ me,” she said, jabbing her fork in their direction. “She moved him in. Like a raccoon that feeds once and refuses to leave.”

“I leave sometimes,” Bob muttered.

“Not without returning with coffee and a guilty conscience,” Yelena shot back.

Bucky walked in, took one look at Bob’s horrified expression, and raised his mug. “Congrats on surviving the Stark domestic experience. You're glowing, by the way.”

“I am not glowing.”

“Oh, you are,” Yelena said, smirking. “Radiating it, actually. I’ve never seen you sit this straight. You moisturize now? That looks like expensive Korean skin care”

Bob glanced around the table, as if searching for an ally. Ava was pretending not to listen, but her smirk said otherwise.

Aria sighed and put down her tablet. “Fine. Yes. He moved in.”

Yelena gasped dramatically. “And you didn’t tell me? I thought we had a sisterhood of trauma.”

“You tried to convince me to install a stripper pole in the gym,” Aria said flatly.

“Exactly. Bonding!”

Yelena slid next to Bob, grinning like a cat with a new toy. “So how’s the suite?”

“Big,” Bob mumbled.

“And the bed?”

He choked.

“Yelena,” Aria warned.

“Right, right, no sexual comments,” Yelena said mockingly, hands up. “But if I accidentally walk by and hear some suspicious rhythmic noises.”

Aria raised one brow. “You’ll be transferred to Antarctica.”

Yelena laughed. “Worth it.”

There was a beat of silence before John, freshly caffeinated and wandered in with a yawn. “Wait. Are you two together? Like together together?”

“No, John” Aria said dryly. “He just likes my Wi-Fi.”

“I do like her Wi-Fi,” Bob added, deadpan. “Great bandwidth.”

“God,” Bucky muttered into his coffee. “We’re not gonna make it through this mission, are we?”

“Nope,” Ava said without looking up from her tablet. “But at least we’ll die entertained.

---

The yelling started just before lunch.

“You finished it?” Aria’s voice rang out from the master suite, sharp enough to turn heads in the common area.

“It was just shampoo!” Bob’s voice followed, sheepish and defensive.

“That shampoo costs two hundred dollars a bottle!”

A heavy pause.

“…It smelled nice.”

The team, scattered across the lounge, froze like animals sensing a distant predator. Ava paused mid-bite of a protein bar. Yelena put her phone down, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Alexei slid quietly onto the couch next to Bucky without blinking.

“Do you know what sulfate-free, orchid oil, micro-keratin balancing formula means?”

Bob hesitated. “A science experiment you keep in the shower?”

“Oh my god.”

“It foamed up really well!” he added quickly. “I didn’t know it was some kind of hair relic!”

“It was imported from Milan!”

From the hallway, Ava peeked around the corner. “Is she talking about the shampoo again?”

“Apparently,” Bucky muttered. “This is the third time she’s threatened him over hair products.”

Back inside the suite, Bob was already shifting tactics. He stepped closer, arms held up in a peace offering. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I panicked. The drugstore stuff felt like battery acid and your shampoo smelled like you. I was tired and”

She glared.

He recalibrated.

“Look,” he said, dropping his voice into a softer register. “I’ll replace it. I’ll buy ten bottles. I’ll fly to Milan myself and charm the shampoo artisan with my tragic childhood and soulful eyes.”

She snorted despite herself, crossing her arms. “You don’t even know where Milan is.”

“It’s in Italy, obviously. Next to… pasta.”

Aria’s mouth twitched. Just slightly.

Bob leaned closer. “Besides, I like your shampoo because when I use it, I smell like you. And that makes my day approximately ten thousand percent better.”

A pause. Her eyes softened, just enough to be dangerous.

“Nice save,” she said, voice cool but no longer edged with murder.

He smiled, boyish and hopeful. “So I’m forgiven?”

“Mm… no.”

“Punishment?”

“You’re banned from the shower for seventy-two hours.”

“I’ll die.”

“Then maybe you’ll stop touching things that aren’t yours.”

“Unlikely.”

They stared at each other. He grinned. She didn’t but she stepped aside to let him pass, which in Stark language was practically a kiss on the forehead.

In the lounge, Yelena leaned toward Bucky and whispered, “Ten bucks they’re making out in four minutes.”

Bucky didn’t look up. “Please. Two, max.”

---

Back in the master suite right after the shampoo truce and somewhere between smug defiance and soft apologies, Bob stepped in close, brushing a strand of hair behind Aria’s ear.

“You really forgive me?” he asked, voice low, a little tentative.

Aria didn’t answer right away. She just looked at him, studied the way he was trying not to smile, the nervous twitch of his fingers, the stupid sincerity in his eyes. Then she grabbed the collar of his hoodie and kissed him.

It was slow. Warm. Familiar in a way that still managed to knock the air out of her chest.

When they broke apart, she was smiling, actually smiling and to her own horror, a soft giggle escaped her lips.

She clapped a hand over her mouth instantly. “I didn’t giggle.”

Bob blinked, stunned. “You totally did.”

“No. That was a tactical exhale.”

“That was a giggle and you know it. I’ve unlocked a secret level!”

“You’ve unlocked the part where I kill you.”

He laughed and leaned in again, dropping a kiss to her cheek before whispering smugly, “Totally worth it.”

They didn’t realize the door hadn’t quite shut all the way.

Or that Yelena, Alexei, John, Ava, and Bucky were on the other side, frozen in horror.

From the hallway came a unified chorus of disgust.

“EWWWWWWWWWW!”

Yelena dramatically clutched her chest. “What did I just hear? Did she just giggle? I need bleach for my brain!”

John gagged. “I feel like I just walked in on my parents. But like… emotionally traumatizing parents.”

“I’m gonna throw myself into the jet engine,” Ghost muttered.

Bucky, rubbing his temples, groaned. “I fought Hydra for this?”

Back inside the suite, Aria blinked at the noise, then turned to Bob. “You didn’t lock the door.”

“…Tactical oversight?”

“Dead man,” she muttered, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the half-open doorway.

It hit Alexei square in the face.

From the hallway: “WORTH IT!”

---

That afternoon, the team gathered in the mission room for a debrief. The mood was unusually light.

Aria stood at the head of the table, mid-briefing, when Yelena leaned over to whisper not so quietly to Ava.

“I still can’t believe Aria giggled. Like, out loud. What’s next? She bakes cookies and starts a Pinterest board for her boyfriend?”

Aria didn’t look up from the tablet. “I will replace all your ammo with glitter.”

Yelena smirked. “Spoken like a true housewife.”

Bob snorted, trying to hide it behind his hand.

“Oh, don’t think you’re safe,” Ava said, eyeing him like a hawk. “You did laundry for both of you last night. That’s dangerously close to full househusband territory.”

“I was being helpful,” he muttered.

“You folded her hoodies by color and weight class,” Bucky deadpanned. “You’re one ‘yes, dear’ away from apron duty.”

Bob opened his mouth. Closed it. Then sighed. “...They wrinkle if you don’t fold them right.”

“Adorable,” Yelena sang, grabbing a marker and scribbling Stark’s Husband on Bob’s nameplate.

Aria, unamused, reached over and calmly erased it.

Bucky didn’t even try to stop them. He sipped his coffee and mumbled, “I’m just here to make sure no one dies. Emotionally? You’re on your own.”

“I give it a week before he’s packing her lunches with love notes,” John added, grinning.

Bob leaned back, feigning deep thought. “Not a bad idea, actually. You like little heart-shaped sandwiches?”

“I will disassemble your favorite hoodie,” Aria said without blinking.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, nudging her knee under the table, “we already have matching toothbrushes.”

The room exploded.

“TOOTHBRUSHES?” Yelena gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been shot.

Bucky just shook his head and got up. “Nope. I survived World War II for this? I’m out.”

John was howling with laughter.

Ghost was already updating the team’s group chat with a new poll:

"How long until Robert starts wearing an apron and cooking dinner in nothing but it?"

Aria looked to the ceiling like she was praying for strength.

“This is your fault,” she said, deadpan, flicking Bob’s arm.

“Still worth it,” he said, grinning at her like an idiot.

And even though she rolled her eyes and pretended otherwise, the ghost of a smile tugged at her lips again.

[otogariado]

only halfway thru the new frieren episode i was almost tearing up because the theme of protecting each other and caring about life more importantly than winning is so poignant. not all the characters are human in species but once again the humanity is blossoming in frieren's story. i was so afraid they'd actually get killed last ep but i mean it's so funny now what was i even thinking. this is frieren. they won't kill unless it was really necessary.

the reveal that richter raised the platform not to make his fight with lawline and kanne easier but actually to protect them from denken's attacks was so good. the "magic is nothing if you cannot imagine it" line is so wonderful because i'm a big fan of magic systems that revolve around that logical "science-y" aspect of like. understanding how it will work in order to do it. (same reason why i love the magic in "world's greatest assassin".) laufen getting caught by frieren even though she knows it's a trap just bc she didn't want denken to get hurt was also so good. the reveal that denken didn't have a grander motive to be a first class mage beyond "i wanna go back to my hometown and visit the cementary there but only first class mages are allowed to enter" was so painfully human and so reflective of real life. it also strikes you because he was introduced as a high-profile, politically influential mage.

i love what denken says about not going out without a fight. i love that the episode ends in a fistfight for him. i love it when media uses fistfights and punching in such an emotionally-charged human way, beyond the violence, instead depicting it as some sort of catharsis really. because sometimes all you need is a good rough n tumble. in denken's case, it's his way of not giving up without a fight. i like that. i also like that this was foreshadowed by denken telling laufen to cut the tree down instead of trying to cut the restraint. "we don't have any mana" "neither do they". sometimes all it takes is to find a differently way to approach your problems and sometimes the solution is simpler than you think.

i'm a big fan of frieren breaking the barrier because she thought it was unfair to cut kanna (and by extension lawline) out of her source of magic, giving her an unfair disadvantage and honestly a handicap. it's a short part of the episode but it's so important, because it shows that if people are given the right tools and the accessibility, they can do for themselves what they want and need to do. i love that frieren is like "can you imagine winning against a water manipulating mage with water around? i can't."

i'm a fan of how the "basic" combat and defensive magic are depicted and treated as in this show. yes, people more on from traditions, but traditions are there in the first place. richter's explanation of magic history in their world provides an insight to how modern magic evolved from the foundations. but the foundations were still foundations for a reason. they made it a point with fern saying "frieren doesn't restrict me from spells" (even tho it was the setup for a small joke) that the point isn't to pick a side between tradition vs modern, but rather to learn from both and decide for yourself what you want to apply to yourself. the depiction of fern and frieren winning with traditional magic and richter and kanne overwhelming each other with modern magic makes it clear that the show isn't trying to preach to either side.

i also like the theme of "pursuing magic out for the sake of magic is enough". it's nice to hear that denken shares this mindset with frieren, because again he was introduced as someone influential and you'd think he thinks like he could use magic as a source of power. and that's the impression i got of him too from previous episodes, but a lot of first impressions of mine were proven wrong later and i'm so happy for that bc these characters have so much depth packed into them in so little time.

what else have i missed...

[redcoralpot]

Can you do Daryl finding out reader is trans? Early season 4, perhaps? :3

Attentu - Daryl Dixon x FTM Reader

Your wish is my command!!

Warnings: Gore, murder, violence, blood, cussing, mentions of transphobia and death, and addictions.

Word Count: 2.6K

You eagerly join in on the medical supply run, despite the group's awful luck. A confession from Bob has you feeling quite guilty about a personal matter...

-

It was dead.

You threw the car battery to the side, sick of the luck your supply group had. Daryl was on the other side of the room, shuffling through drawers in an attempt to obtain the right part. For an auto repair shop, it was horribly disorganized.

“Got anything?” you called over, impatient.

A grin took over your face as he tossed the find at you, catching it in a firm grip, “Nah.”

The car was not in terrible shape, not really. Some rust here and there, with paint scratched off from long road adventures before the outbreak. Your father had a similar car when you were just a child, and he was insistent that he passed on his knowledge, despite your mother’s constant objections. It was not fit for someone like you; that your hands should never be calloused from the tough ground nor covered in grease, she said. He always ended up laughing in her face.

So as he would have it, the two of you got in all sorts of trouble. Hijacking cars, picking locks, prying cabinets open with a pocket knife; all things he said would come in handy one day. Daryl seemed like he had the same type of upbringing, all rough and tumble, and perhaps that’s what drew you to him. That, or he was just really damn good with surviving.

Daryl’s footsteps creaked as he led the way out of the building, shining his flashlight on any possible threats around. Someone had to, as you weren’t keen to look after Bob found an old walker stuck under a desk, ending that misery. It was the only one left. One by one, you circled out of the building, with Bob’s silent trepidation behind you as you arrived back at the car. Daryl opened its hood again, and you both set to work.

His voice was muffled around his cigarette, “You never told us about the group you were with, before.”

You glanced up as Bob replied, “Which one?”

“You know,” he continued, when Daryl gave him a look, “when you found me out on that road, I almost kept walking.”

“Why’s that?’

“I was done being a witness. It happened two times, two different groups.”

…

“I was the last one standing, like God intended for me to see it over and over; a curse,” he shook his head, pursing his lips, “but, when it’s just you out there with the quiet, I used to drink a bottle of just 'bout anything just so I could sleep at night.”

“The run to the big spot, I only did it for me.”

You froze, a jug of clear liquid still in your hands. Daryl took it from you, completely unfazed, and managed to get a swig out of it.

He licked his lips, “You gotta keep busy somehow.”

“No, I did it so I could get me a bottle, a bottle of anything. That’s what got Zack killed.”

“That’s bullshit,” Daryl peered at him, “why don’t you get in there and try the engine? Should be the red and green wires, it ain’t rocket science.”

Even as Bob walked away, you stayed silent. Your fingers burned as you rigged the working car battery back in, but never as much as your thoughts. The other man nudged you, urging you to take your hands off as the engine roared in front of you. He clapped his hands and brought them up to his mouth; a sharp whistle rang through the air. Bob’s alcohol troubles seemed to be forgotten by Daryl, since he gave you a rusty smile while you slammed down the hood.

“Nobody coulda’ known, and you ain’t gonna be standing alone. Not anymore,” he reassured Bob.

You huffed, swinging a few plastic bags of gas in the back seats, ducking to join them. Tyreese and Michonne got the rest and the three of you squeezed together with the luggage, closing the door. With that, you left the burdensome place behind.

The ride to the college was short, but Bob still parked a little ways out, and the group set off to walk the rest of the distance. You passed most of the buildings on campus; dull brick that plants jumped at the opportunity to outgrow after a year of inactivity.

“Looks like the building we want is up ahead,” Tyreese stated.

For the first time since Bob’s confession, you spoke, “Are we splitting up? We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Is that safe?” Michonne questioned, and Daryl eyed you.

“I know I can cover myself, if I end up alone.”

The brunette scoffed, and you shifted a glare at him, “You know I can, too. You’ve seen me.”

“I think,” Bob uttered, “it’s a good idea.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, I’ll shoot if I run into any trouble. Meet me back at the car.”

Outside of the Learning Resource Center, you split from the group, sneaking close to the ground. You heard the rest shuffle in the opposite direction with a soft “C’mon, c’mon.”, and let out a shaky breath. Two pairs, then three pairs of footsteps faded away.

The lights of the wing flickered and let out fading sparks as you padded along, dust pillowing up from wherever you stepped. God, the outbreak sure did a number on this place. Shadows grew as abundantly as the plants, but never dulled the smears of blood along the walls, floor, and shattered glass. It cracked and snapped under you, somewhere behind you, and you hissed as you looked at the walls alongside you. There were several doorways leading to different rooms, most likely supply closets or classrooms. Carefully, you dipped yourself into the nearest doorway, a heavy feeling on your back. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest and your stomach had a sick pit of anxiety as you thumbed through the biggest drawers. There were plenty of jars, containers, and vials, but none of them had what you needed. You read all the labels once, twice, the text in messy handwriting or tiny fonts.

Testosterone, in its liquid form made for injections, should be a clear liquid. You knew that much from what your provider told you, and from your own studies. Any colored liquids, or any with particles floating inside, you discarded from your search immediately. You were taking too long, you started to think, or were you? You didn’t know if you were gone for ten or if you have been here for thirty.

Once again, you slid back into the trashed hallway, trying to make your way towards the next doorway. The only things you could hear were your quick breaths and a creak, most likely from the forgotten building. A set pattern was in your mind as you dove into the room, and the haze of adrenaline made it hard to think. Walkers, as the prison liked to call them, were not your biggest concern. Even before the outbreak, it was dangerous for you to step outside; to live your life. If you passed by the wrong person, your face would be on the hot topic of the community for the week after. Getting caught was not an option.

You blinked, trying to clear the thumping in your ears. The vial’s label looked like a foreign language, though you knew it wasn’t, so you peered closer at it. A gust of hot air hit your neck, and again. Hot air. This place was cold.

Your fingers scrambled for the knife at your side, it was there, wasn’t it? You slashed before you could think. Hair scratched your fingers; your knife dug into a warm crevice. The hot air turned into a raw, groaning noise. The hot air stopped. 

You pushed the body to the ground and your blade was released. The blood trickled hot down your wrist. Instead of the red you expected, it was a sludgy, filthy brown. It dripped in slow droplets on the floor beside your shoes. This was the first opportunity to look at the thing, and what a sight it was.

The knife had caved in a part of its skull, which itself was like a rotten, stomped on pumpkin. It oozed and dripped the same muck over the tile, muddying the disfigured face underneath. It made Osbourne’s stage trick look like simple child’s play to anyone who witnessed the act. Its eyes were still open; bulging out in that manic, hungry way only a madman got before the outbreak. You looked away from the mess, your breakfast seizing in your throat, and you busied yourself with getting more testosterone vials in your bag. The most important thing was that it was not human, not anymore.

Stuffing your full hand in your bag, you made a beeline for the doorway.

You should have learned your lesson.

A weight tumbled over you and knocked you to the floor, breathless. It screeched, rabid, like some sort of fucked up dog. If a dog hadn’t eaten for a month, that is. It stunk, too. It stunk so bad that you thought you might die from suffocation first.

It clawed at you, gnashing its yellow teeth. Your hands were pinned underneath the mass and you heard your knife land across the floor with a clang. This was going to be it. The end. It’s funny, isn’t it? Dying searching for your lifeline. You almost giggled at the irony.

The teeth were close to your neck, aiming to kill. To eat until you were nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and bones. You had to do something, and soon. The only part of your body you could move were your legs, and you tensed them up. You were going to survive this, you were going to get back to that car. 

Three.

You struggled to prop your shoulder up, knocking the danger away from your neck. Its eyes were bloodshot and cloudy. As empty as a corpse.

Two.

The walker got more desperate to bite you, wiggling around harshly on top of you. You tried your best to keep your face far away from its own, but it successfully nipped the edge of your nose. This was going to hurt.

One.

Its final noise was a gurgling one, close to your ear. The weight flopped to your right side, stilling its frugal attempt to destroy you.

“You got yourself covered, huh,” a voice remarked.

You wheezed, “Christ.”

“What were you doin’?”

“Shit.”

Daryl stepped over you, pulling his arrow out of the corpse, “I’m serious.”

You finally got your legs under you, and the first thing you did was back a good distance away from him. There was no getting out of this, you both knew that Daryl would know if you lied to him. Yet, he was one of the last people in the prison you felt comfortable telling. Daryl was a classic redneck, with a bigot older brother and a taste for mysteriousness. There was so much you didn’t know about him, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up like a wildfire. You would have much rather told Carol or even Michonne, if you had to choose. 

“You know what Bob said.”

“Yeah,” he stated, “but you ain’t an alcoholic. I know that much.”

“I’m not, but that wasn’t the point. I only came on this run for one thing, and it isn’t medicine. It’s testosterone.”

“Why do you need that? You’re strong enough without that steroid shit.”

“I don’t get as much as you do naturally.”

“So a medical condition?”

“Kind of.”

“Even if it was, that don’t explain why you had to sneak away from the group to get it. What’re you hiding?”

“I’m transgender, Daryl. I wasn’t born a boy like you,” you murmured.

There was a parade of footsteps down the hallway, and Tyreese burst through the door, the others close behind. He looked spooked, with sweat dripping down his disheveled face. Michonne and, speaking of the devil, Bob looked no better off.

He exclaimed, “Jesus, there you two are. We gotta go, now.”

“What, why?”

“Walkers. Tons of ‘em. Let’s go!”

You gladly took this chance, shoving past Daryl to dart out into the hallway with the others. Everyone else was rushing, but it was a minute before you also heard footsteps behind you. The infected corpses swarmed the building, even though it wasn’t like that before, and it made you wonder what the hell released them. Your group ran up the stairs with walkers not too far behind, and those trapped banged on whatever surface they could reach. 

“There was a ledge near the fire escape,” Michonne hissed, “we can go through there.”

No one responded unless a quick nod could be considered one, and you were off. Michonne went first, then Tyreese, you, and finally Daryl. Your legs were shaking, and you paid Bob a glance. He tensed up, seemingly trying to gauge the distance, before jumping. He was barely right, and landed a little too close to the edge, teetering off. His arms flailed and an army of bodies from below swarmed up to grab his heavy bag. You rushed to catch him, attempting to pull the man up, but he refused to let his backpack go. 

Finally, you ripped both the man and his bag away from the grasp of the walkers, panting, “What the fuck were you doing? What’s in that bag that could possibly be so important?”

“He’s right.” Daryl took the bag from Bob, zipping it open.

Bob rushed to stop him, but it was too late. Daryl dropped the backpack as quick as he picked it up, and he seized Bob by the collar.

“If I ever catch you puttin’ a bottle before a need, I’ll feed you to the walkers myself. You hear me?”

You froze as Daryl let the shorter man down, pushing him as he did so. Everyone else shot him a disappointed look or a glare, and Michonne waved her hand. You were all to keep moving; the run was over, and on an especially sour note.

The group arrived back to the prison safe and sound, the most daring of injuries being bruises, or small cuts. Tyreese and Michonne left to do their own activities, while Bob left to lick his wounds. This retired Daryl and yourself alone, to an awkward silence. With nothing else to do, you picked at a particularly nasty cut on your forearm. It was starting to look infected.

You cleared your throat, “Do you have anything left in your bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I use some?”

“Nah.” Daryl tossed you his bag.

Carefully, you peeked inside. There wasn’t much left, some disinfectant spray and vials of a clear liquid. No, that couldn’t be, could it?

Testosterone. At least three good vials of it.

You raised them up to your face, not believing your eyes, “Daryl, where the hell did you get these?”

“Grabbed them from that drawer you found the others in,” he refused to make eye contact, “after you left.”

“Why?”

“You might’ve needed more than you got.”

That… meant a lot to you. You had expected him to at the very least ignore you, or even worse, disgusted by you. What were the chances he would grab extras for you, just in case? Instead of yelling or hitting or kicking you out of his life, Daryl did that. If you were being honest, this was one of the weirdest coming out stories to date, but nothing can really beat zombies being included.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Nah. I’m a little confused, though.”

“On the topic?”

Daryl sighed, “Yeah. Wasn’t educated that much.”

“Well, if you want, I could help with that.”

Just for a second, he looked you in the eyes. In that moment, you didn’t see hate, anger, or anything negative. Only a sharp, beautiful glimpse of curiosity.

“Yeah.”

-

[magical-girl-coral]

Caramelinda talking with Ruby about Lazuli a few years before ACOC just a small moment between the two of them.

your work is so freaking awesome.

trying to beat depression by doing stuff i like. FIGHT

Caramelinda knows that the key to good parenting is remembering that children at the end of the day are their own people who enjoy making their own decisions. You can guide them, help them, protect them from hardships they do not understand and teach them to know better, but at the end of the day, children are independent people who have their own personalities and deserve to grow slowly with the world around them.

But Bulb above, sometimes her Ruby acts so much like Lazuli that it hurts her in ways she never knew were possible.

Nearly all Candians believe that the twins take after their father solely, but no one catches the way sometimes his deceased sisters pick through them. Jet's sense of justice is so much like Rococoa's. Their kindness is so much like Citrina's, their acts of mischief that resemble so much of Sapphria's.

And Ruby's love of books that is almost exactly like Lazuli's.

Caramelinda doesn't know that in a decade or more her daughter will despise learning as a rebellion against her royal title. All that she knows right now is that her precious Ruby is climbing a staircase of books to get the one on the top shelf because the cover was "too pretty to ignore." In most cases Caramelinda would lose hairs over this little stunt, but something about how Ruby moves is so much like Lazuli whenever she makes a new discovery that she doesn't have the will in her to bring her daughter back to the ground.

Ruby thankfully grabbed the book with no problem and slowly returned to the floor with the grace of a professional dancer. At least there is one lesson she's giving all the attention too. 

She was just about to gloat in victory over her successful exploit when she noticed her mother standing by the entrance to the library. Ruby tried to hide her findings behind her back with an embarrassed smile. "Mother! What are you doing here?"

"Are you interested in stories of magic now, my little love?" Caramelinda asked, deciding to save her scolding for another time.

Ruby blushed and kicked an invisible rock with her foot. A habit she picked up from Liam. "Maybe so. I know it's forbidden and all, but story is about a princess saving her kingdom using her cleverness and powers and everyone is happy because she also used her magic to bring the harvest back and-"

"So you've read it before." Caramelinda laughed to herself. "Bulb above us, of course you have. I swear, you are just like your aunt  Lazuli sometimes."

Ruby's eyes widened. "I am? But I thought father's sisters were prim and proper."

Now that caused a belly laugh to escape from Caramelinda's stomach. "God, no, those women were sometimes worse than their brother. Rococoa would argue with her mother about everything, Citrina opened her own church because she disagreed with the main teaching of the bulb that much and Sapphria found every hidden tunnel within the castle because she was bored for a day. And Lazuli..."

A lump went up Caramelinda's throat.

Ruby reached towards her mother's hand, and grasped gently within hers. "And aunt Lazuli?"

"And your aunt Lazuli was the most reckless of them all." She said fondly.

Ruby gaped at her mother, obviously not believing her in the slightest.

Caramelinda laughed again. "I swear on our family name, what I'm saying is the truth. She was the most insane woman I've ever known. Her head was always in her work and never spent enough time on the ground to notice where she was going. More than once one of her siblings had to stop her from tumbling down the stairs because she was too busy talking about her latest work to notice she reached the staircase."

"And what else did she do?" Ruby asked.

"Oh, there were all those times she let experiments quite literally blow up in her face. She claimed it was for science, to see them until the end, but I personally think she just didn't want to admit she was wrong until it was too late to deny it. I swear, every member of this family is more stubborn than a bull."

Ruby bit her top lip. She pulled her mother by the hand, sat her down in one of the reading chairs by the window and sat on her mother's lap with the book opened right in front of them. "If aunt Lazuli were alive, how would she read this book to us?"

Caramelinda held her daughter as close she could without choking either of them, and read the lines in her wife's gentle voice. "Once upon a time, during an unfortunate time for an unfortunate kingdom, lived a very young girl with the entire world ahead of her..."

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien - Operation Cuteness Capture - Day 2-5

Lovepro X Nobi Rabbit Event | Molding Cuteness Date Part 1 | Date Part 2 | Prologue + Day 1 | Cuddle Claw Machine Gameplay + Day 2-5 (You're here!) | Day 6 -7

[Gameplay+lines]

Tired after 40 seconds of hugging plushies: "I'm a bit tired. Let me recharge for a bit?"

Caught Rare Plushie (Carrot, Heart): "Is this one rare? o(*￣︶￣*)o"

Caught Bunny Plushie: "Can you help me out?"

Idle: "No need to rush, take your time choosing."

[Day 2]

MC: Let me see what you've hugged this time!

Lucien: It’s a bow.

MC: Wow, so cute, I like it~

Lucien: I remember you had a hairclip with a bow similar to this one, just a bit bigger than this.

MC: Hmm… I think I do have one.

MC: But I only wore it once, and you actually remember it that clearly?

Lucien: Because the day you wore it to see me, the weather was very nice, the evening breeze was just right, and the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers.

Lucien: It made that memory become very vivid.

MC: In other words, the Proust effect?

Lucien: Indeed.

Lucien: But the most important reason is that when it comes to things related to you, I never forget them after seeing them once.

[Day 3]

MC: Lucien, are you tired? Do you want to take a little break first?

Lucien: I’m not tired, but I’d also be very happy to put down these fluffy things and have a chat with you.

MC: Hehe, look! Without realizing it, we’ve already hugged so many little things!

Lucien: Then, where are you planning to place these little plush toys?

MC: Hmm, let me think... maybe hang them on the windowsill, make a whole string of decorations?

Lucien: Or place them along the edge of the bookshelf and create a cute little animal-themed corner, how about that?

MC: Sure!

MC: Another day, we'll add a few warm-colored little string lights. If we light them up at night, it’ll definitely be super healing.

Lucien: Then it seems we don’t need to wait for “another day”, let’s set out now.

Lucien: I really want my bookshelf to have a touch of cuteness.

[Day 4]

MC: Lucien, the more I think about it, the more unbelievable it feels.

MC: How exactly did this machine suddenly show up in your home?

MC: Look at how big it is. It works smoothly without electricity, and its style is completely different from your home…

Lucien: Hmm… maybe it’s some kind of space-folding phenomenon, or a reality overlap caused by quantum entanglement.

MC: Really?! So there’s actually a scientific explanation?

Lucien: I just made that up ^^

MC: Hmph, how could the ever-rigorous and scientific Professor Lucien still lie!

Lucien: That doesn’t count as lying. After all, there are still many fields in the world that science hasn’t explored yet.

Lucien: Perhaps there’s also the simplest kind of explanation.

MC: What kind of explanation?

Lucien: For example, maybe there truly exists a kind of adorable magic in the world that specializes in creating surprises.

[Day 5] 

MC: Whoa, why does it suddenly feel like the difficulty just shot up... The controller is getting harder and harder to control.

Lucien: Don’t be nervous, relax a bit. This is just a little game.

MC: Even if it’s just a game, what if I don’t control it well and make you fall or tumble?

MC: I really don’t want you to get hurt.

Lucien: Don’t be afraid. I have a lot of confidence in your control.

Lucien: And even if we fail by accident, it doesn’t matter; we can try again.

MC: But……

MC: But today’s situation is a little different.

Lucien: What’s different?

MC: Because the one doing all the grabbing back and forth today isn’t an ordinary doll. It’s you ><

Lucien: Then just relax a bit. Treat me as an ordinary doll.

MC: How could an ordinary doll possibly be as precious as you? And besides, how could it possibly share such tacit understanding with me….

Lucien: Little fool, since you know about the tacit understanding between us, there’s even less reason to be nervous.

Lucien: I believe we'll coordinate perfectly every single time.