#Rechargeable table lamp

[turn4service]

Best Rechargeable LED Table Lamps for Restaurants – Turn4Service

Find contemporary, innovative rechargeable LED table lamps restaurant, events, and hospitality. Wireless, clever and chic. Turn4Service offers the most suitable table illumination and signaling devices to illuminate your establishment.

[mashandmint]

Dinner party lighting, but make it cordless.

The Houseof Jam Red Dome Cordless Table Lamp gets guests talking. Sculptural, rechargeable and perfect for both indoors and al fresco evenings! Take a look at mashandmint.co.uk

[vultursvolans]

— ★ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when being assigned a joint research project with a very attractive haravatat student proves to be more distracting than you ever anticipated

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: akademiya!student alhaitham x akademiya!student reader, afab!reader, established relationship (early stages), secret relationship, sex in the desert, flirting, playful banter, casual nudity, no preparation, rough fucking, multiple positions, creampie, not proofread. obv they are adults. 2.1k wc MDNI. 18+ ONLY. | masterlist

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The heat had already taken hold of you this morning.

Even before you opened your eyes, the desert sun had crept into the makeshift tent, meandered across your skin, and clung to the bedding beneath you. Outside, you could hear the wind humming in a lulling rhythm but the air inside was still heavy—scented faintly of canvas, sand, and Alhaitham.

Officially, this trip was sanctioned by the Akademiya to catalog ruins and decipher inscriptions long buried in the dunes. Your joint project culminated in months of preparation but between your academic pursuits, you and Alhaitham fell into the trap of proximity, lured by the temptation of wandering eyes and coy smiles exchanged over the rim of coffee cups. 

Long nights spent under oil lamps became less about studying and more about the rush it gave you when your knees brushed beneath low tables. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on reading when Alhaitham sat so close that his scent clouded you entirely. 

Wandering eyes turned to coy smiles turned to lingering touches turned to… well. 

Such distractions would be frowned upon by the Akademiya, yes, but how could you resist when Alhaitham treated you like you were the most fascinating discovery he had ever encountered? You both agreed on discretion to save yourself from the mortification of other scholars and seniors. They didn’t need to know about his sweet confession and the many other things you both got up to when nothing but the stars could witness you. 

So unofficially—this trip was the perfect excuse to stay tangled together despite the sweltering heat. 

You blinked against the wedge of sunlight, rolling over to a very bare Alhaitham sprawled beside you, one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other resting just centimetres from your waist. 

“Morning,” his voice was thick with sleep but when your eyes met, you saw that his expression was immensely not.

“What’s got you so focused?” you said groggily, propping yourself on your elbow as you faced him. “Already thinking about all the hard work waiting for us today?”

Your clothes were still discarded from the night before, sitting in a crumpled heap near the corner of your bedroll. Perhaps the events of last night were why he was looking at you with that slanted smile. 

“Do you always think about work the moment you open your eyes?” he replied, tracing small circles on you. 

“Someone has to keep us on task,” you shot back, raising a brow.

“I didn’t realise I was sharing a tent with a Matra.”

Of the 20 languages he knew, the same mouth rendered him incapable of completing this project in a timely manner—what should have been done two days ago was instead spent with his tongue on your skin. 

Not that you had many complaints.

“Mm,” he added. “And here I thought mornings were for recharging, not nagging.” 

“For someone who implores efficiency in all things,” you said, poking his nose, “You spend a suspicious amount of time lying around. Observing me isn’t going to help your thesis.”

“Observing you is a worthwhile distraction actually,” his hand began to slip onto the bare curve of your hip, “In fact, I think you’re my most compelling subject.”

“I would pay you sacks of mora to include that in your report,” you retorted, clicking your tongue with false annoyance, but you were too focused on something else to actually care.

“I’ll pass,” he tipped his chin at you, “Instead of mora, another thorough exploration should suffice.”

“You’re avoiding work.”

“I prefer to think of it as redefining priorities.”

“Oh? And what’s at the top of that list now, Mr. Alhaitham?” You felt wrapped in warmth but you weren’t sure if it was from the desert or his fingers settling between your thighs.

“Must you know?” He pressed his body against you, “It seems to me you don’t think we can afford to delay.”

Suddenly, the tent felt smaller, and something familiar coiled low in your belly. You let out a soft sigh, shifting closer to him, “Enough.” 

The word felt hollow, even to your own ears.

He not only decided he wanted a repeat of last night (and the night before) but also the right to brag about passing with flying colours even when he was buried inside you during the most crucial part of the research. 

It became a cycle—he apologised for keeping you distracted and you forgave him by moaning his name. 

Never one to be so sexually inclined but now he understood why men sculpted monuments to their obsessions, why poets spilled ink in worship of carnal desires. Lust was not a sin because it was tempted, but because it was consumed. However, the way Alhaitham consumed you was completely intentional. 

You were no different from his books. He spread you open, studied you, and read every inch of you all the same.  

“I personally think we have plenty of time,” he leaned forward, slowly grazing his lips across your neck before kissing your pulse point. “Trust me.”

And trust him you did.

The world outside was quickly forgotten after he turned you on your back. Your words died in your throat as he hovered above you, capturing you in a careful kiss that tasted of salt and skin. 

There was plenty of time in the way his fingers coveted pleasure out of you. 

There was plenty of time in the way he mapped your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone with love bites. Like you were something so desirable to him.

Beads of sweat rolled down your temple as the tip of his cock shallowly pressed your entrance. Your mouth fell open—the friction was maddening, and every inch of you clung to him. Even when his lips ghosted the swell of your chest, he was lucky your skin was there to swallow his quiet grunts each time his hips moved against your tight hole. 

“Patience,” he said when you instinctively arched your back, though his own breathing was uneven. Already, his hair was tousled and damp from the heat of your bodies mingling and you felt his length throbbing on your thigh. He was so hard, you couldn’t help but wonder if the one who actually needed patience was him. 

You couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Speak for yourself,” you said, swiveling your hip upwards. A groan left his lips so quickly you saw a blush spread across his cheeks. “You’re barely holding it together.”

He grumbled in response. “You find joy in others’ misery.”

“Not at all.”

Although, your teasing wasn’t for naught. Alhaitham wasn’t exactly famous for bedding women so seeing you stripped of everything that made you prim and proper left him craving you that much more. “You should take it as a compliment that I—”

“So I’m the problem?” you laughed under him to mask the flutter in your stomach. 

“Precisely.” You were glad he remained obstinate even when he so lewdly towered over you. “You’re in such a hurry this morning. If you want to be reckless, I won’t be blamed for the consequences.”

Then a strategic purse of lips followed suit, “I thought you enjoyed my patience.”

Patience. That damned word again.

Screw patience. Whatever consequence he was referring to was burning away any semblance of patience you might have had left. Thus far, he had taken his time with you but he had only taken his time with you. If he could be more crude, you wanted to see it—feel it. 

“Alhaitham,” his entire name rolled off your tongue. Quick and demanding. Your tone only fueled the fire in his seafoam eyes. “Stop talking.”

The end of your words dissolved into a gasp as he thrust into you, hard and sudden, stretching you with a fervor you hadn’t felt before. 

His muscles flexed while you dragged your nails down his spine, closing your legs around him for even an ounce of stability. The rhythm he set was already so relentless that his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist to drive himself deeper, and the change in angle made all sound catch in your throat.

“Haitham—!” a cry rippled from how hips were snapping against yours with a pace that was anything but patient. He had accepted your unspoken challenge so quickly, that nothing would have prepared you. 

Your head swam.

The wet, sloppy slaps of skin meeting skin filled the tent, blending in with your jagged moans and his lower grunts. No part of his brain wasn’t thinking about how soaked you already were, how you welcomed him so easily before he slipped—no—pushed it in. 

His hair clung to his forehead, every movement felt tight and addictive. When he leaned down, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “Is this fast enough for you?”

You could only whimper in response, feeling your toes curl as his hoarse voice and your own pleasure consumed you. 

He shifted, pulling you onto your side and hooking your leg over his shoulder. The new position sent another shockwave through you, and your priceless whines filled the small space as he drove into you over and over again.

The heat of the tent seemed endless, but so did the hunger between you. Alhaitham’s pace never truly slowed—each time your whines softened, each time you thought the storm of his touch subsided, he just tossed you into a new position, kindling the fire all over again. 

“I want to hear you,” he growled while his chest was flushed against your back. Reaching to lift your leg so his heavy cock could invade you deeper, you tried to muffle your moans into the bedding. But he grabbed your chin, tilting you to look at him, “Head up.” He half-chuckled, “You were so mouthy before. What happened to that?” 

Before you could answer—or think—he shifted again, this time unsteadily pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dug into the bedding but at that point, holding yourself upright proved difficult. His hands gripped your waist, guiding you to ride him as his mouth leisurely latched onto the peak of your breast. The combination left you shuddering, clinging to his shoulders as his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 

“Did you know,” he slurred against your skin, “that you’re terrible and incredible?” His praise made your cheeks burn but terrible? Terrible was the way he fucking you so hard you could barely roll your hips. 

“Y-You might want to refresh yourself,” you chewed your bottom lip from yet another hard thrust, “On the meaning of ‘terrible.’” You could feel the remnants of your previous orgasms dripping down on him, “Because that’s you.”

Time blurred. You lost count of the positions, of the way he had you on all fours only to have you back in his arms moments later, of how many times you greedily begged for more. Every touch was electric; if only you could clutch him closer. The noises were shameless and the scent of filthy sex and sweat was nothing shy of erotic. 

When he pinned you beneath him again, you felt him stiffen. Every inch that sunk into you felt more desperate and even the way he called your name sounded huskier. You could have sworn the tent walls were ruffling in sync from his losing control. 

Your lips parted in a silent scream and with a final throb around his cock and a deep drawn-out groan in your ear, he released inside you for the first time. Your body drew out his pleasure as his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His laboured breathing told you everything about the ecstasy he was experiencing, like his body and brain were struggling to stay connected. Finally, he pulled out, trembling and sensitive, and collapsed beside you who was still panting. 

Ultimately you got what you wanted: unfiltered crude sex with your insufferably hot research partner. Your pulse ran wild.

A hazy silence settled, broken only by his stroking your hand to check if you were okay. Part of him wondered if he went a bit too far which you wordlessly answered by rubbing him back. He held you, and like last night (and the night before), you lay glistening and tangled together in the aftermath. 

It was a perfect system, a hopeless, delirious cycle.

“Well,” he said as he returned to tracing circles on you, “I think that concludes this morning’s exploration.”

You rolled your eyes, still dizzy and breathless, “Do you think the Akademiya will accept that as your final thesis?”

His lips quirked into a rare, little grin. “Hard to say. Who knows which of the sages might secretly be perverts?” 

“Alhaitham,” you groaned, swatting weakly at his chest. 

But then his arms tightened around you. And you didn’t mind. You didn’t protest. You believed you might have even loved being clad in nothing, lying in a cramped, too-warm tent that reeked in the musk of what transpired.

There was, as he said, plenty of time to finish the project. And if this was part of the process, you weren’t in any hurry.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

a/n: idk if i love or hate this but it’s so hot where i am rn and the only thing i can do to distract myself from perishing from the heat is to pretend i’m here!!!

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[starlightgum]

[Honest] Na Baek Jin x Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: You’ve been dating the head of the Union and childhood sweetheart, Na Baek Jin, for some time now. Your boyfriend was everything you imagined him to be and more: loving, kind, and caring.

Despite all his qualities, his packed schedule and work kept him busy and away from you. As you grow restless with the passing of the days without seeing him, you end up missing him terribly and finally decide to pay him a visit in his personal office.

Warnings: Explicit (+18)

Note: This is quite the first piece of writing I’ve ever uploaded, I loved Weak Hero Class 2 and the lack of Baek Jin works were honestly disheartening, so I had to step in. This is not proofread nor corrected, also, please keep in mind that English is not my first language. It’s entirely self-indulgent!

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You shift in your shoes before looking up to the metal door in front of you. The hallway where you were accompanied by one of the guys at the front gate from the bowling club was empty but well illuminated.

You knew the man inside the room was waiting for you, as he was informed beforehand of your presence. Regardless, you knocked out of respect, bumping your knuckles twice and waited.

Placing your hand on the knob, you didn’t twist it until you heard a clear and deep “enter” echo throughout the walls.

As you opened the door, you peered inside until your eyes found the other set of inquiring and sharp ones, steadily expecting you from his table.

Setting your foot inside, you notice his usually hard gaze visibly softening. You close the door behind you before dropping your school bag onto the sofa unceremoniously and slowly making your way to his desk.

Your follow the edge of the table with your finger as you cast a quick glance at his surroundings. On the desk there were neatly arranged pens, a box with organized files, and color-coded documents.

Near his hand were his water bottle, his two phones, his personal and work one, and in the corner tucked safely were his keys, hanging with a small charm with your initial matching with your own B hanging from your bag.

A gift you gave him the first week you began dating, which he gladly accepted with a small smile and a pat on your head, although curiously asking why.

You knew everything about him when you began dating—his status, his work, and especially his enemies, so you also knew you couldn’t endanger him or yourself by giving out your relationship so easily.

Normal things like uploading your couple pictures online to boast him to your friends, hanging around in the city at any time, or having your photo in his phone case—those small variables were risks

You knew, and you accepted everything that loving him entailed. That’s why you had to be subtle. Even if it felt a bit overwhelming at times.

Baek Jin on his side was setting the documents he was holding before on the surface and turning his chair towards you, all without ever stopping looking at you ever since you walked into the room.

As he came to face you, he slowly rolled his very tense shoulders until his back was fully resting against the chair. His stare slowly drinking you in, as he was recharging from not seeing you physically for days. A slow smile started to form on his face.

The white turtleneck was hugging his torso nicely, topped with a light black jacket and some wasted dark jeans. A comfortable attire you suppose he changed into after classes when he was working at his "business".

His hair was nicely brushed and neatly kept, just the way he liked. The white light coming from the lamp was showing a nice contrast to his profile, which made his features look even sharper if possible.

You wondered how he managed to look so well-kept and dressed with how little time he had and how little he rested.

“Have you eaten yet? It’s nearly dinner time, y'know,” you muttered, while letting yourself appreciate the fond expression on his face, only reserved for you.

Baek Jin was a very hardworking man. He was always busy; when he wasn’t studying, he was volunteering; when he wasn’t doing extracurricular activities, he was working in the union; and when he wasn’t being a multitask man, he was also your boyfriend. 

And the fact is, that you missed your boyfriend very much.

“I was waiting for you, actually” he mused when you got close enough that your knees touched. He was sitting with his legs in a relaxed, wide stance, a hand supporting his chin, as he analyzed every single detail, from your shoes to your hair—a routine you got used to.

True to his high capacities, he was also a thoroughly observant individual; he always took care of his belongings. He also could only trust a few people, which he could count in one hand. For these few particular beings, he would do anything to ensure their safety, be it fight for them or kill for them. Therefore, he needed to be strong, sharp, aware, and instinctual. Which didn’t always play in your favor.

“Is that so? If I hadn’t come, would you have starved?” You half-jokingly asked with a small grin as you raised your hand to poke his forehead to ease the tension in his brows as he took notice of your demeanor.

From the exterior, you looked relaxed, a playful facade playing on your face, but your eyes couldn’t lie to him, nor your body.

You were fidgeting in place, unconsciously switching from fixing on his lips up to his sharp eyes repeatedly ever since you came into his field of vision.

And you should know better by now. You could never fool a man like Baek Jin, not him.

He suddenly took your wrist and pulled you closer. To avoid falling, you reflexively put up a knee in between his much bigger legs to balance yourself and he held your hip with a strong grip with his other hand to keep you upright.

“I know for a fact my demanding girlfriend wouldn’t leave me hungry; isn’t that so, love?” He answered with a knowing smirk, muttering the last infatuating nickname as he inched even closer until your noses bumped.

This only deepened the already shade of red forming on your face, and you tried to hide yourself from his penetrating stare into his neck. As you breathed in you noticed the smell of his expensive cologne, a sweet scent mixed with an edge of soft lavender and coconut blend.

Knowing you like the back of his hand, he rotated the chair until you were trapped between his chest and the edge of the table, effectively throwing you out of balance in the small space.

You held on to his lean chest with both of your hands, wildly meeting up an already amused expression looking down at you.

In this position, you were forced to straddle him, his strong arms encapsulating you and not letting you escape. You resignedly sat on his toned thighs as the embarrassment wasn’t stilling inside your body yet. Your uniform skirt slightly riding up as the position didn’t make it any easier.

“You’re not being fair; I came to pick you up for dinner, and you’re trying to-” you tried to struggle to avoid looking into his perceptive eyes and the hot fanning breath near your lips.

“You think I don’t know you?” He muses while wetting his lips once, your focus entirely falling into that action. “You need to be more honest with your intentions; you know better than anyone I would never deny you” as he dipped down to your ear, he whispered “anything.”

His hands slip until they rest on your half-covered thighs, thumbs rubbing small, feathery circles.

You visibly shudder in his hold, which makes him let out a low laugh you could’ve easily missed if his mouth wasn’t right next to your ear. You reach back to look up to see the damned face of your unpredictable boyfriend and notice a single strand of hair adorning his face from the movement, making him look insufferably more handsome.

You sit like this for a few moments. Baek Jin alternating between circles and taps on your thighs as he waited for you to answer, looking like he had all the time in the world to spare.

You sigh and realise there was no escape; you would have to talk.

“It's just that I missed you, I-” you mutter looking down again, focusing on his bobbing Adam apple instead to gather some courage to speak up.

However, he was having none of that, as he takes your chin almost immediately and raises it until you have to slightly crane your neck to look into his dark eyes.

“I like to be looked in the eyes when I’m being spoken to,” he demands with a warning tone that makes your back stand upright. “I can barely hear you either, dear.” He points while fake-disapprovingly shaking his head.

As he waits for your answer, his lips never leave the slight smirk, so when your shy stare finally meets his waiting eyes, his side smile only deepens until one of his sharp canines shows.

“I want us to go have dinner at that restaurant from last week again-” you start slowly, Baek Jin slowly nods as he was making a mental note to check off later.

“I’ll make time for you, just say which day” he simply answers and gives an appreciative squeeze to your hip with his large hands that sends shivers from your back till your neck.

“Also I want you to-, I want you to kiss me,” he hums affirmatively, and starts by leaving an innocent little peck on your cheek before going for another one lower on your neck.

Your reactions weren’t going unnoticed by him; the way your breaths were coming out uneven, your skin progressively heating up, and your eyelids fighting to stay open every time his lips came in contact your skin.

Leaving a wet path behind, he trailed even lower, the next kiss pressing harder into your neck.

He knew that was your weak spot. He was clearly messing around with you, and you were letting him get away with it.

Suddenly you feel his teeth slightly grazing your skin, which catches you off guard and accidentally clench your thighs around his own.

As you instinctively grind closer to Baek Jin, you feel something hard pressing into you through the clothes. A tinge of pleasure runs across your center.

At this, he suddenly halts his ministrations to hold you against him on the same spot, not letting you bulge an inch.

“And then what, beautiful?” He asks in a low, deep teasing tone only meant for you to hear, as if it were a secret. Slightly panting, he rises up his head to his height. From your position, you notice his eyes momentarily unfocused, desire pooling his dilated pupils.

His hands follow his gaze, thumb caressing your pouting bottom lip, slowly tracing the line from one corner to the other. He adjusts himself in the seat making you brush yourself against him again. You barely manage to muffle a sound coming from your throat at the feeling.

As the seconds go by, he grows more and more restless.

Surely, patience was one of Baek Jin’s best qualities. But even the strongest of the Union couldn’t hold himself back when his very own fantasy came true was sitting so prettily on his lap, in his own office.

You try to blink away the coming tears of frustration adorning your wet eyelashes. Not being able to wait any second longer, you let the distress from all these past days come forward on your next words.

“A-And I want you to fuck me.” You whimper the last words as you fist the jacket of the man beneath you. You needed him, badly. “P-Please Baek Jin”.

His eyelids drop lower as a satisfied lazy grin spreads on his face. He stands up while easily lifting you up from your upper thighs, letting your legs hang on from his hips. You hold onto his broad shoulders tightly to bring yourself impossibly closer to him.

Clearing the desk with one hand, he slips your back on the surface while speaking a promise onto your lips. “As you wish, my love.”

✦✧✦✧

[versairic]

Thunderstorm | MV1

In which a thunderstorm passes over the city and Max helps an employee who is afraid of thunderstorms to survive the storm

pairing - max verstappen x reader

words - 3077

warning - fear of thunderstorms

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The sky became increasingly cloudy. The clouds came closer and closer together, so that within a few minutes the blue sky disappeared and it became darker and darker.

The sun had been shining with all its might for the last few minutes, so it didn't even look like the weather would change in a few minutes.

The Dutchman squinted his eyes slightly to acclimatise his pupils to the now dark hotel room.

The dark heavy curtains were wide open and revealed the dark - almost black - sky.

"That's it for the jog, Rupert," he muttered quietly to himself, leaving his running shoes lying carelessly in the corner.

Max was actually grateful to the weather that he didn't have to go for another long jog after the exhausting Media Day and was more or less chased through the city by Rupert.

The Media Day was sometimes even more strenuous than the Saturdays or Sundays when the drivers spent most of their time in the car.

They had to face countless questions and answers from various reporters and also shoot one or two pieces of content for social media.

By the end of the day, some of the drivers' heads were already pounding and they enjoyed the peace and quiet in their hotel room, where they were alone and didn't have to talk to anyone.

So the Dutchman peeled himself out of his sportswear and swapped it for a pair of cosy jogging bottoms and a hoodie before taking the few steps to the huge hotel room window and standing in front of the glass.

By now, one or two drops had already broken free from the cloud, leaving small, shiny trails on the balcony that sparkled like diamonds in the weak light of the outdoor lighting.

It wasn't long before the rain became heavier and the odd puddle formed within a short space of time.

Without paying any further attention to the weather outside, which would continue to wreak havoc throughout the evening, Max drew the heavy dark curtains and then dropped onto the hotel bed.

The white bed linen, which already looked as sterile as hospital bed linen, was cold and scratchy.

A soft sigh escaped Max's lips as he reached out for the small bedside lamp, which soon became the only source of light in the room.

Even if he hadn't really wanted to go jogging with Rupert, his personal trainer, he now had even more free time that he didn't really know what to do with.

He had been scrolling through social media for the last fifteen minutes, which had turned out to be pretty boring after a while, so his mobile phone was left lying carelessly on the small bedside table - with the display facing downwards.

The large flat screen TV hanging on the wall opposite his hotel bed attracted the attention of the 4x world champion and shortly afterwards it was no longer too quiet in the hotel room.

Some kind of trash TV episode was playing, but the Dutchman didn't pay too much attention to it.

It was crazy how much you could get bored in a hotel room. You might think you needed the peace and quiet after the hectic days on the track and used the peace and quiet to recharge your social battery, but that wasn't always the case.

Often times, the loneliness and quiet was even worse and made you literally die of boredom and in those moments you actually wished for the hustle and bustle back so that you had something to do.

So Max switched back and forth between the different channels - none of them offered any entertainment programme that could even begin to entertain and distract Max, so that the world champion's hotel room was plunged back into silence shortly afterwards.

Until suddenly a loud clap of thunder sounded. The thunder rumbled low and menacingly over the horizon, as if to challenge the silence, before a flash of lightning bathed the sky in bright light and illuminated Max's hotel room, despite the drawn curtains.

The Dutchman was startled by the force of the thunder, causing the remote control to slip out of his hand and sail under the hotel bed.

"Verdomde," he mumbled quietly and freed himself from the scratchy bed linen to fish the remote control out from under the hotel bed as he suddenly paused.

There was something. A noise. A soft noise that sounded like a whimper. However, it had sounded so briefly and then disappeared again that Max had the feeling that he had imagined the whimpering.

In the dark, he groped around under the bed, hoping to find the remote control somehow, while the bed linen scratched under his touch.

The rumble of thunder sounded in the background and the lightning lit up the hotel room for a few seconds at a time.

And then it was suddenly there again. The whimpering and a short, soft scream, which made Max stop moving.

Was the noise coming from the corridor or from the room next to him?

The Dutchman got up and stood so that he was in the centre of the small corridor so that he could listen more closely to see whether the noise was coming from the hotel corridor or the room next door.

He listened intently. His ears pricked up almost like a cat, he literally waited for the sound to come again.

And sure enough. There it was again. With the next thunder, which was now carried directly over the city and the hotel by the storm, a louder, almost panicked whimper sounded.

Without thinking twice, Max opened his room door and peered out into the dark corridor. There was no one to be seen or heard.

So was it possible that the noise was coming from the room next to him?

Almost frantically, he began to think about whose room was next to his.

The whole team had been spread out on this floor so that all the employees were close enough to each other and even the drivers and the team boss had their rooms in the immediate vicinity.

But even through the spasmodic deliberation, the Dutchman just couldn't think of who owned the room next to him - but it didn't matter, because when the continued rumble of thunder was accompanied by a yell, Max scurried over to the room next to him on his socks and, without hesitation, raised his hand and started knocking.

And just at that moment, his own room door slammed shut and locked the Dutchman out - without having taken his key card with him.

Verdomde! he cursed quietly in his mind.

He heard soft footsteps at the other end of the door until it opened with a squeak and Max saw nothing but darkness.

" Uhm, hello..." Max greeted the unknown person, who he still couldn't see. What was he doing here anyway?

"H-hi," a squeaky, almost tearful voice came back to the Dutchman. In his memories, he tried to match the voice, which he clearly recognised, to a face. But he couldn't think of a face to go with the voice.

" I...um...I heard noises and it sounded a bit worrying, so I wanted to check if everything was all right? But apparently it is. I'm really sorry for the disturbance," stammered the Dutchman as he slapped himself in the forehead.

Maybe it was nothing or maybe he had just caught her and her partner having sex and had put his foot in his mouth. It would be best if he turned round and left.

And just as he turned round to leave, the thunder started again - this time even more intense, making it feel like the hotel was starting to shake.

There it was again, the whimpering sound he had heard and it came directly from the woman he had not yet identified.

The Dutchman looked over his shoulder at the young woman who had now switched on the light and Max knew immediately who it was.

The new PR manager, who had been on her first assignment this weekend and had done such a good job that she had immediately made a good impression on Checo, Christian and him.

In the flickering light of the lamp, Max could clearly see the wet cheeks of the young woman, who couldn't have been much younger than himself.

His heart automatically tightened slightly and he reflexively bit his lips for a few seconds so as not to bombard her with countless questions.

Max had always been an empathetic and helpful person - he had inherited that from his mum.

"I'm fine," her voice sounded brittle and quiet as she scrunched up her nose.

Max knew, however, that she was anything but fine. New tears were already shimmering in her eyes, threatening to roll down her reddened cheeks as she stood there, quite intimidated and afraid.

" I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it. You know, I'm a pretty good listener and I don't judge. "

Max didn't know if this was the right way to help the young woman confide in a stranger, but he didn't want to leave her behind. Not so sad and fragile.

The young woman hesitated briefly until she opened the door wider and let Max inside her dark hotel room.

The hotel room had the same layout as Max's except that it was mirror-inverted.

The only light in the room came from a small night light from the Disney film Lilo & Stitch.

Max recognised the blue monster Stitch immediately, as his sister had been quite fond of the film and the character when she was younger.

The curtains were drawn so neatly that not a single ray of light could shine through.

The young woman dropped onto the bed and pulled a blanket over her cute pyjamas, which she must have been embarrassed for the Dutchman to see.

"Why don't you sit down?" she said quietly but in a gentle voice and gently tapped the end of the bed.

Unlike in Max's hotel room, the bed linen was turquoise and embroidered with small flowers, although Max was immediately sure that she had brought the bed linen from home and swapped it for the disgusting hotel bed linen - it was perhaps worth considering doing the same.

After the Dutchman had settled down on the turquoise bed linen and his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he looked around a little and recognised nothing but order and cleanliness.

Hotel rooms always told you what a person was like. And the new PR manager seemed to be quite tidy and structured - as the lined-up suitcases and books revealed.

"I'm sorry if I've disturbed you..." the young woman's voice caught Max's attention again, causing the Dutchman to take his eyes off the hotel room and look over at her.

She was wiping her nose and then wiped her eyes with a handkerchief to make the few tears disappear.

"You didn't. I really didn't. I was worried and thought I'd just check that everything was OK," Max revealed to her, eliciting a gentle smile.

"Thank you..." she began as she started to search for the right words. " That's really sweet of you. "

Max returned her gentle smile and was about to ask her another question when the thunder rolled deep and ominously through the hotel room, as if it were trying to make its way through the walls. A first, hesitant rumble arose before it grew into a powerful, vibrating roar that made the windows shake.

The air seemed to vibrate and the walls, which were otherwise so safe and calm, seemed to shake for a moment, as if the hotel itself was feeling the force of the storm.

Lightning flashed brightly through the room, illuminating the corners for a moment and making the shadows of the furniture dance like fleeting ghosts.

The thunder rolled on, at irregular intervals, sometimes near, sometimes far, but never really disappearing - a continuous rumble that enveloped the room in an oppressive, harsh atmosphere.

And this thunder caused the person opposite him to flinch violently and disappear under the embroidered bed linen.

And then Max finally understood what was going on.

She was terrified of thunderstorms.

"Hey," Max's voice rang softly through the room.

He knew exactly what the fear of thunderstorms could feel like.

The rapidly beating heart, the shiver that ran through your whole body, the squinting of your eyes to somehow block out the lightning and your body paralysed with fear.

Max knew all too well how the young Red Bull employee must feel. After all, he had experienced the same fear for years as a child.

"I-I'm so scared," whispered the younger girl muffled under the duvet as she trembled all over and the tightness in her chest just wouldn't go away.

Her fear of thunderstorms was particularly heightened when she wasn't in familiar surroundings - her home.

Although she couldn't easily cope with the fear of thunderstorms at home either, she was able to relax better at home than here in the hotel room, which was foreign to her.

"It's okay," Max assured her cautiously, glad that she had opened up to him. "I know the fear of thunderstorms. I was afraid of thunderstorms for years as a child too. Can I help you?"

She slowly lifted her head from under the duvet and nodded as her fingers dug into the fabric of the bed linen.

"What else helps you with your anxiety? Have you got any tea to calm you down? Or are you listening to music, doing breathing exercises, talking or doing something that's good for you, like painting? " Max asked her as he clearly noticed how she slowly began to relax.

" I...I'm drinking tea. There... there's camomile and lavender in front," she carefully reached out from under the blanket and pointed over to the small sideboard, on which there was a travel kettle, a cup and two packets of tea.

Max nodded sympathetically and ran over to the sideboard to prepare everything for the tea.

They could still hear the thunderstorm raging over the hotel. The thunder had become a little quieter by now, but Max kept noticing the rustling of the bedspread and spotted the young woman flinching out of the corner of his eye.

" Ninja Turtles and Stitch, huh? " Max asked with a grin and pointed to the mug with the four Turtles printed on it.

" Uhm, yeah. I know, I'm a total freak," the young woman on the bed laughed softly - that was good. A good sign that Max was slowly managing to distract her from the storm.

"You said that now, not me. But the Turtles are really cool. Shall I tell you a secret? " he grinned as he came back to the bed with the cup and handed it to her.

Her long, thin fingers wrapped themselves around the hot cup as she took a light sniff of the tea, which would fill the whole room with the scent of lavender within a few minutes.

"I won't say no to a secret," she grinned as she leaned against the end of the bed and indicated to Max that he should sit down so that he didn't continue to sit uncomfortably on the edge of the bed.

Without thinking twice, Max did the same and leant his back against the upholstered headboard of the bed.

"I recently adopted a third cat and it's actually named after one of the turtels," he grinned, causing the young woman to start giggling softly.

And the giggle was indeed a lovely sound that filled the room and Max wished he could hear it a little longer.

"Really? Which one is it? "

Now he had the young woman's full attention, who scrutinised the Dutchman with curiosity while a warm smile spread across her lips.

"Well, I'm not going to make it that easy for you," he grinned cheekily and crossed his legs.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the PR manager tilt her head and think for a few seconds before sipping her tea.

"His name is Donatello," she then said, hitting the bull's eye. Max's new cat was indeed named after the purple Ninja Turtle.

The Dutchman's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly.

The Dutchman's eyes grew wide as his mouth opened slightly.

"How...?" he stammered, actually wondering how she had come up with it. Everyone else he had told about his cat so far had bet that the cat's name was Leonardo.

"It's quite simple. And I'll be happy to explain it to you," she took another big sip from her cup before placing it on the dessert table next to her and continuing:

"He's intelligent, like you. You help with the development of the car and you also know exactly where the problem is if there is one with your car. You've also become incredibly relaxed with every World Championship title, no longer as hot-headed as you were back then. You are loyal to your team, although in difficult times it would have been understandable if you had looked for a better team - as one or two other drivers have already done. But not you, you are loyal to Red Bull and always emphasise how happy you are with the team and that you will finish your career at Red Bull. Donatello also has all these qualities - in other categories, but he is the most similar to you of the Turtels."

Wow, that was really impressive, thought Max. No one else had ever seen and analysed it in the same way as the young woman opposite him.

"That... that's impressive," he said part of his thoughts out loud.

"Thank you," she grinned and bowed playfully to him.

And so the two of them had a little guide that took them from one conversation to the next and the young woman began to forget more and more about what she had been afraid of just a moment ago. And thanks to the Dutchman, who sat next to her on the bed and laughed with her, this fear simply disappeared.

And the young woman couldn't be more grateful to the Dutchman. So the thunderstorm moved on towards the next village.

But even when the thunderstorm had passed completely and peace returned to the town, the two continued to talk until they fell into a peaceful sleep next to each other, knowing full well that this was just the beginning of something big.

[archangeldyke-all]

HI ANGELLLL <3333 omg okay how would you think sevika would react to a reader who’s very firm that they should each have their own rooms in their house/apartment. like they have sleepovers all the time but separate spaces yk?

LOVE YOU <333

ooooh i love this!!

men and minors dni

when you guys first start living together, you only have the money and space for one bedroom in your apartment. silco pays well by undercity standards, but you're just a bartender for the man, and sevika spends a majority of her income drinking and gambling away all the trauma he puts her through on the daily.

and as much as you love her, you sometimes wish you had a space of your own. you know she feels the same way. she doesn't have an office at work to hide out in. you're both introverted people, more used to being alone than with others. sometimes, the best way for you and sevika to recharge is to just spend a few hours alone.

but once silco dies, and the war ends; you find yourself with two new children and an exorbitant bump in your shared income now that sevika's ambassador.

when you first bring up the idea of getting a house with enough space for all four of you to have your own bedrooms-- sevika's upset.

"wh-- you don't want to share a room with me?" she asks with a pout. you coo and cup her cheeks.

"no baby, it's not that at all. it's just... okay. you've got a lot of responsibility at your new job. you need a good night's sleep, even on the nights when i wanna stay up late reading my books. and i need a good nights sleep even on the nights you and isha wanna play fortnite all night."

sevika chuckles. "i guess it could be nice. wouldn't have to deal with the dumbass holiday pillows you decorate the bed with each season."

you gasp. "you love those pillows!"

"they're so fucking annoying! why do we have a dozen pillows?! we only need two to sleep!"

"okay, well i won't have to deal with your clothes on the floor killing me in the middle of the night when i gotta get up to piss." you huff.

sevika's angry glare fades, and she sighs. "i'd miss you."

you giggle. "i'd just be down the hall, love."

"i know, but still. will you let us have sleepovers?" she asks. you grin.

"obviously."

it ends up being one of the best ideas you've ever had.

sevika's new workload means she's always bringing her work home, proposals to read and papers to sign. it would annoy you endlessly, but she keeps it to her bedroom, a stack of papers piled up on her bedside table, her glasses folded on top.

since the last drop's been burnt down and isha and jinx have stumbled into your lives, you've been staying at home to keep an eye on the girls and keep the house functioning. in your free time-- when sevika's at work and the girls are entertaining themselves-- you've taken to doing puzzles.

you know it's a hobby sevika would attempt to divorce you for in another life-- but now, with your own bedroom, you can spread as many bowls of color sorted puzzle pieces around and occupy as many flat surfaces as your heart desires.

the only downside is the decrease in cuddles.

as a result, you and sevika take to cuddling on the couch a lot more. jinx an isha think it's disgusting, especially when your cuddles lead to kisses, but there's nothing you love more than having sevika lay on top of you after a long day, both of you watching the girls play video games.

sometimes, sevika makes 'cuddle meetings' with you-- which is just a specific hour of the day set aside for the two of you to spread out in one of your beds, cuddling and sometimes napping together.

and, best of all (even though her snoring annoys you more than words can describe) sometimes, you'll hear your bedroom door creak open in the middle of the night.

"isha?" you ask with a grumble. there's no response. "jinx?" you reach out to turn on your lamp, and burst into laughter at the sight of your wife shyly leaning against your bedroom doorframe. "hi sevi-bear." you giggle.

sevika smiles. "can i spend the night with you?" she asks. "it's cold in my room." you scoot over in bed and pat the spot beside you, giggling as sevika flings herself into your bed. she kisses you sloppily before laying down with a happy sigh. "thanks, baby."

you flick your light off with a giggle. "but no funny business, ma'am. you got that early meeting."

sevika laughs. "i know, i know, 's why i trapped you in the shower earlier." she wraps her arms around you and pulls you to her side, nuzzling her nose against your neck. "just... needed to hold you tonight."

you grin and twine your limbs around sevika's. "sweet dreams, love."

"mmh." sevika responds, already drifting off.

you close your eyes and kiss her forehead, settling in for sleep.

maybe you don't need two bedrooms... maybe it would be nice to sleep beside your wife every night...

just as you're about to fall asleep, sevika groans beside you. "why the fuck--" she snaps up in bed and starts throwing pillows onto the ground. "how many pillows does one person need?!" she huffs, before flinging herself back down into bed and curling around you.

you burst into laughter and pinch her side. you can feel sevika's smile against your throat.

nevermind, two bedrooms is probably for the best.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[emilys-bangs]

helping hand | e.p

Tags: non bau reader, fluff, established relationship, use of petnames, no use of yn, clingy emily

Summary: anon prompt - emily comes home to her appartement after long and tiring few days away, knowing that she didn’t do the dishes and her entire flat is a mess and she needs to do the laundry and vacuum etc - only to discover that reader cleaned up everything for her and it’s super tidy and she’s just very grateful and sappy about it

Word count: 1.2k

Usually, Emily didn’t feel anything but a deep seated relief at coming home after a long case. Home is her empty shell of an apartment, void of people or laughter or warmth. It’s just a place to rest her weary bones, recharge until the next case pulls her away from her comfortable bed.

Now, she doesn’t even feel relieved to be home. That feeling is chased away as soon as she parks her car, remembers the mess that she had left behind just before Hotch called. It was barely a day after another case that had swept them away for a week; Emily barely had time to dump the dirty clothes out of her go bag and pack clean ones in before she left her apartment, dishes still lying at the bottom of the sink, dust building up around the edges of her carpet. Now she gets out of the car, hitching her bag over her shoulder and allowing herself to sulk as she enters the elevator, punching the buttons in none too gently, preemptively scowling at the mess that will greet her the moment she opens the door.

Only when she fits her key in the lock and walks in, she doesn’t find any of what she remembered.

It’s not dark anymore. Warm light gently blankets her apartment, soft gold coming from the lamps in the living room rather than the overhead lighting. Her plate and mug—which she’d definitely left there in her haste—are cleared off the coffee table, her fuzzy blanket that she’d left in a pile among the cushions now neatly folded over the arm of the couch. Emily quietly steps inside, her lips parted as she takes in the faint scent of food in the air, the low sound of your humming floating in from the kitchen. She closes the door behind her and drops her bag on the floor, a steady lump growing in her throat as she follows your voice.

Emily’s eyes jump over her apartment. She notes the clean, shiny floors; her impressive bookshelf, its dark wood wiped clean of the fine layer of dust that had clung to it for ages. Warmth spreads through her chest, heating up the cold in her fingertips as she quietly steps into the kitchen and finds you there, bent over the stovetop.

“Hi,” she says softly. Her voice is rough around the edges, an almost imperceptible hoarseness to it as it scrapes against the back of her throat.

“Emily!” You jump. The wooden spoon in your hand drops against the side of the pot with a small clatter, and even though she scared you, she has to bite back a smile.

“Sorry,” she breathes, taking your hands and tugging you to her until her head is under your chin. Her arms wrap around your body, yours around hers, and she finally relaxes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” Her words are muffled in a soft kiss to your throat.

“It’s okay,” you exhale, running gentle fingers through her hair. 

Emily melts into you. She literally melts, her body sagging against yours, her ear molded to your chest where she hears the fast beat of your heart. The tension leaks from her shoulders as you press a kiss to her hair, gently dragging your nails over her scalp. There’s so many words she wants to say; thank you, I missed you, I love you. Sorry, again, because your heart rate still hasn’t gone down yet.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she whispers instead. Her fingers twist in your shirt as she nuzzles under your jaw, closing her eyes and breathing in the comforting scent of your perfume.

You go a little tense. “I’m sorry I didn’t call beforehand. You sounded tired when you called and I wanted to make sure you had something to eat before you went to bed, but I should’ve asked first, sorr—”

“I don’t mind.” Emily’s head snaps up from its hiding place. It should be strange, feeling this way. She’d always cherished her privacy more than anything, viscerally hated the feeling of being exposed, picked apart for anyone to see. Hiding parts of herself had become habit, one she still hasn’t fully broken. 

The thought of you going into her apartment in her absence should’ve made her skin crawl. But the truth is, you taking the key she’d given you and letting yourself into her home makes her feel like she’s part of something. Part of something good. 

Emily cups your face. “I don’t mind at all. I fucking love you.” Her voice weakens and she brings you impossibly closer, her thumbs gentle on your cheeks. “You made me dinner. You…you cleaned up.” 

You took care of her. No one really has before.

She can feel her eyes growing glassy, can see your expression morphing into concern. Emily blinks back her tears and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you, amor. This means…a lot.” Her next breath is a little shaky, but she tries to hide it into another gentle kiss.

“Emily,” you say, your voice hushed and faintly chiding. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, firmly bringing her into your chest. It’s home, she thinks, more than this empty apartment ever was. “Honey, you don’t have to thank me. For anything. I wanted to, and I’d do it again.” The soft press of your lips against her temple makes her close her eyes. 

By this point you’re almost entirely holding her upright. The rumble of your voice reverberates through your body and through her skin, sinking into her bones as you kiss the top of her head again. “You’re my girlfriend, you know,” you say quietly, tickling her bangs when you speak, “gotta take care of you.” The pad of your thumb gently presses into the back of her neck. She’s so, so warm, your love rushing through her veins in liquid gold that makes her sigh and nuzzle deeper into your embrace. 

“Love you,” Emily mumbles.

“I love you, sweetheart. C’mon now, you must be starving.” Gently, you pull back, trying to detangle yourself from her unwilling arms.

She blinks at you with pleading eyes. “Will you stay over tonight?” Her voice is soft as she squeezes your waist, needing to maintain the contact even though she knows you’ll need to pull away.

You smile, gently brushing her bangs over her brows. “I’d love to.”

The prospect makes it easier for her to let go of you. “But you won’t have any of my shirts to wear, they’re all dirty.” Emily wrinkles her nose, her mind skipping to the overflowing laundry baskets she’d left behind.

“Oh,” you clear your throat delicately, a shyness to your expression that makes her heart clench. “You don’t have to worry about that, I did the laundry.”

Emily sighs, physically feeling herself fall deeper. “You what?” She whispers.

You shrug, your voice coming out in a mumble. “I did the laundry. Did separate loads for whites and colors ’cause I didn’t know how you usually do it and I didn’t wanna mess anything up—”

Emily shuts you up with a kiss. A long one, a very thorough thank you as she carefully cups your jaw in the heel of her hand, skims her thumb over your cheek as if you’re something precious. What’s left of her bad mood slips off her shoulders like droplets of water, the sweetness of your lips soothing what tightness was residing in her chest.

“You’re magic.” Emily says when she leans back.

You’re too flustered to reply.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @ashluvescaterina @storiesofsvu

[intothetr33s]

Cleaning Schedule: ensure a clean and tidy home today and everyday!

DAILY

Wipe counter

Microwave sauces and/or stews

Scrub microwave interior

Wash pet bowls

Clean gutters

Brush barbecue

WEEKLY

Take out recycling

Clean mirrors

Vacuum floors

Recharge used rechargeable batteries

Sort and reorganise sauces in refrigerator

Launder tablecloths and placemats

Shovel snow

Sanitise toilet

MONTHLY

Wash windows

Dust ceiling fans, baseboards, and lamps

Vacuum dog

Replenish dog

Launder couch cushion covers

Disassemble and clean desktop computer

Remove expired milks from refrigerator and/or laundry room

Mop kitchen and bathroom floors

Deep-clean bathtub

QUARTERLY

Deep clean oven

Wash pet bed

Reshelve library

Vacuum vacuum filter using secondary vacuum

Reassemble desktop computer

Change door hinges

Discard expired condiments

Replace baking soda box in refrigerator

Make bed

Descale electric kettle

Rescale electric kettle

Descale electric kettle

Sharpen lawnmower blade

YEARLY

Vacuum secondary vacuum filter using primary vacuum

Shine shoes

Alphabetize cookbook collection 

Lubricate garage door mechanism

Shred coffee table book

Mow lawn

Powerwash patio and garage door

[fynnthefeline]

Hey there, fabulous humans and cool cats! 🐾

After a busy week of all my grand adventures—discovering that mysterious washing machine, showing off my table manners, and perfecting my lamp acrobatics—it’s time for some well-deserved rest. 💤

Today, you’ll find me tucked away in the cozy cave of my cat tree, recharging my kitty batteries for the week ahead. I’m dreaming of more fun, more exploring, and of course, more playtime with my favorite human. 😻

Let’s be real, though: I look pretty adorable when I sleep, don’t I? My human sure thinks so! 💕 Sundays are for snuggles, naps, and gathering all the energy for new mischief next week.

Wishing you all a purrfectly relaxing Sunday—see you in my dreams! ✨

Purrs and sweet dreams,

Fynn 🐾

[yayasvalveplay]

Hi!

I finally wrote the last part, so now my silly little trilogy is completed! I'm actually very proud of it as it's the first time I have ever written something like this.

Thank you very much, yaya! If it wasn't for you, I would never have tried to write this! 🫴♥️

***

At first, the awakened processor was surrounded by darkness. It didn't take more than a click before the first notification appeared

"hearing modules activated"

There was a quiet hum of ventilation in the room, echoing off the walls, mixed in with sounds of his own internal organs going online one by one, and the soft rhythmic tapping.

"sensor modules activated."

Now he could determine the hardness of the surface beneath him, the direction and temperature of the air in the room.

Judging by the sudden breeze, someone had just passed by -

"visual modules activated"

The bright light from the ceiling lamps hit his faceplate, making him squint and blink several times to adjust visor to the light. However, this did not happen, which is why the minibot shielded himself from the light with hand and tried to take a sitting position.

Due to the lack of a normal recharge and the fact that he was running low on energon for a long time, the speed of information processing was reduced, and the limbs obeyed with difficulty.

When Perceptor began to rise, he felt that something helped him, supporting him under his back.

Several more notifications flashed somewhere in the corner of his vision as he regained consciousness, sitting on the operating table, still covering his visor with his palm and dangling his legs over the edge.

Now he was fully online, but his mind was confused, trying to sort out vague and fragmentary memories.

The hands that had been helping him up were gone from his back. Perceptor did not immediately notice this, but when the information was slowly processed, he raised his head and began to look around with poorly focused eyes. While he was doing this, an energon cube was placed in his hand.

He couldn't remember the last time he refueled properly. This information wasn't considered important for scientific activity and, like other unnecessary garbage, was not monitored.

When the cube was empty and the energon began to circulate through the internal circuits, the processor's performance finally reached the minimum acceptable level for it. The memories began to form a chain.

Defeat, establishment of the Decepticon dictatorship, cameras, corridors, guards -

- How are you feeling, Percy?

Right.

Brainstorm.

Taking his hand away from his face, minibot turned his head towards the source of the sound, colliding with jet's gaze. There was concern in it. This is what scientists look like when they are waiting for a report on the results of their project. Meanwhile, Storm stared into the lifeless diodes of microscope's expressionless visors.

- acceptable.

The voice was completely different. After using voice bank for a long time, his real voice sounded like someone else's. He wasn't very expressive. Soft and calm, yes, but it had a larger range of tones than Perceptor was used to.

Upon hearing this, Brainstorm visibly perked up and, as soon as he noticed that minibot was about to get off the table, he helped him, supporting his autobot by the arms.

-I'm glad to hear you, Percy)

When microscope was on the floor, Stom didn't let him go. Instead, Brainstorm began to push, leading him to a polished metal wall in which their reflections could be seen.

It's worth admitting.

Brainstorm did a good job.

The old paint was completely replaced with a new bright enamel of the same colors, all the modifications of the altmod were gone, and the microscope on the shoulder changed its shape.

Brainstorm put his hands on Perceptor's shoulders, standing next to him.

- Oh... Just look at us. Just like the old times.

Jet's eyes narrowed in a blissful nostalgic smile as Perceptor thought "No."

Not like the old times. Yes, now minibot really looked as if all those years of imprisonment had never happened, but the jet himself looked completely different.

His colors were noticeably darker than before, the shape of the hull had changed, the fuel pipes were pulled out and wrapped around the thoracic region, resembling human ribs, the eyes burned with a sick, abnormal light, as if their owner was in a fever or delirium and that damn Decepticon mark, a purple spot spread across his chest. A sign that shouldn't be there.

However, with all the changes and differences, it was still Brainstorm. His crazy assistant. The same mech that competed with Perceptor, making discoveries for speed. The same assistant who made the whole lab shake when his next incredible experiment ended in an explosion. The same Brainstorm that stormed out of Ultramagnus's office one day shouting "I'M NOT BUILDING THIS!" and then-

...

Where did these stupid thoughts come from?

Perceptor closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearing his processor from useless memories. He needs to focus. It was necessary to analyze the situation.

-what did she do to my brain?

Storm also stopped staring at their reflection and turned his head towards the autobot.

-It's okay. She just uploaded the emotions back. Blackarachnia said that she will gradually raise their level to normal over the next sessions so that you have time to get used to it. And who knows, maybe I will do the next sessions)

-I don't need them.

-we do, Percy.

Brainstorm took Perceptor by the shoulders and knelt in front of him so that their faceplates were on the same level.

-Percy, I don't know what has been going on here all this time. I don't know what you had to go through, but I know that you would never do something like that to yourself for nothing, most likely you simply had no other choice. However...

The minibot's shoulders were firmly gripped

-...You've lost. It's a new world. There are many new and perverse rules that must be followed. I chose you as my autobot, and you know what that means.

While jet was talking this nonsense, Perceptor was thinking. Brainstorm wasn't the preferred option because of his cleverness, but that didn't mean he couldn't be used. Having a Decepticon will save Perceptor from having to stay in shared cells and potentially give him access to the laboratory, from where he will have new opportunities to help others out.

The main thing is to survive being near Brainstorm.

The past doesn't matter, now it's a completely different mech, which the scientist doesn't know and can only guess what he is capable of.

The most advantageous option would be to comply.

- resistance is not rational.

Brainstorm narrowed his eyes. It's not clear whether this answer upset him or pleased him.

Jet drawled :

-That's right.

Perceptor's shoulders were stroked. It was already clear that Brainstorm was holding back on physical contact.

-I don't want anyone bossing you around. Now we're together, just like in the good old days. And as long as that's the case, you won't be harmed. Ok?

Perceptor was still looking at him indifferently, but after deciding to play along with Jet's delusional mind, something other than cold calculation finally flashed in his gaze.

Brainstorm smiled behind his mask.

- I guarantee you that one hundred million percent.)

The microscope sighed heavily.

-You're exaggerating the numbers again.

-➕

I've been wanting to draw myself hugging ya plus anon. But I don't want to keep my followers waiting any longer. So here it is part 3 of DW simpatico.

[pandaemoniumminiatures]

Hi all, I got back from UK Games Expo on Sunday - a fantastic weekend!

So great to spend time with good friends playing games, chatting and laughing. I travelled up with close mates and we stayed together in an Airbnb apartment which proved to be ideal (and far cheaper than us all getting hotel rooms!).

Our intention on the Friday was just to scope the place out and play some board games, which we did (though I did splash out on a paint set too), and very early on reached the Fighting Fantasy stand where I bumped into my friends Dave and Chris, which was great timing! It was lovely to chat with Ian Livingstone and Jonathan Green, and also Dan at Blue Giant Studios again and talk about the upcoming Fighting Fantasy Fest in September, the special miniature I'll be painting, and see that they've put my painted Bloodbeast on the box!

Ian also let me know that there will be a gallery of the FF minis I did for him in his forthcoming book, so that was an amazing surprise!

Another highlight was that I got to chat with Gav Thorpe and Andy Chambers and try out Zeo Genesis , their new sci fi skirmish game, which was a lot of fun - I got to take a free mech suit mini too!

I had lovely chats also with Bad Squiddo Games, Blue Giant Studios, Cerberus-studios, Realms of Tiberium, Moonstone and Louis Downs (Louis and I have been trying to meet up at the last 4 shows!), MODIPHIUS, Duncan Rhodes Painting Academy, and finally got to meet Man O Kent Games, Mike Hutchinson (Gaslands), Jon Hodgson Illustration, Lost Haven Art (who produced my logo and business promo material) The Thornless Rose, Rolltex Texture Rollers, and my friends Gonders, Julian Sparrow and Geordie Calgar who I know through Twitter etc. On the Saturday night, some friends and I had a big game of Grimdark Future One Page Rules, with Luke pitching his Ork horde against mine and Saul's Rebel Guerrillas:

A great game, very hard fought, and eventually the orks victory came down to one dice roll to see if a squig was shaken after losing a combat - it passed and so finished by contesting the objective on our side of the table!

Purchases...

I decided to mainly buy things I had been promising myself for a while, and take advantage of show discounts, so in an effort to divorce myself from Citadel paints, I got the Monument Hobbies Pro Acryl base set from Element Games, and a rechargeable lamp from Daylight, which will be so useful when I'm painting at shows! I also picked up The Art of The Miniature Painting Tutor from Warlord Games  because I had heard so many good things about it. I did get a few minis, but deliberately kept that to a minimum as I genuinely want to clear my backlog... (yeah, I know...) so I got a couple of brilliant new Halflings from Bad Squiddo Games, one of Duncan's Sir Coats minis, and after my painful experiences with those Anarchy stencils a few weeks ago, I was determined to get some diamond stencils from Steel Harpy!  Also, as well as the  Zeo Genesis mechsuit, I was given a free mini from the Onepagerules folks. And given all that, I'm actually not feeling too bad this week - I'm continuing work on the Striking Scorpions and I've finished the first five, with the others well on their way, so I would think they'll be ready to photograph later today:)

[turn4service]

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Find contemporary, innovative rechargeable LED table lamps restaurant, events, and hospitality. Wireless, clever and chic. Turn4Service offers the most suitable table illumination and signaling devices to illuminate your establishment.

[tydhl]

Th’ell ya’ doing here, lady? (Monty x reader)

Teaser:

Filled with both curiosity but mostly the nagging of his security module, he sauntered over to the recharge station. He didn’t take the time to check through the small window, he’s a busy gator. Ripping the door open he stared blankly at the inside of the cell for a moment before slowly lowering his gaze.

As soon as his optics scanned the person as an intruder, he felt his security protocols kick in on full gear. He clenched the handle of the small compartment, leaning in with narrowed eyes. Tipping his snout down to make eye-contact with the shorter animatronic, the gator let out a low growl.

“It’s past closing hours, lady, what th’ell ‘ya doing here?”

Chapter 1. New Meetings

Summary

Welcome to Fazbear Entertainment

You’re online!

Awesome!

Time to meet your new co-worker, the Daycare Attendant!

Spoiler: you meet more than just the DCA.

Warnings: None

Headcanons used:

• Sun & Moon were originally acrobats at the theater.

• They had to learn how to manage the daycare because his programming wasn't updated when they changed his position.

• Monty is glad to be a rockstar but is jealous of Freddy being fan favorite.

#include <cstdlib>

int system(const char DCAH1005_bootup);

□□□□□□□□□□ 0%

■□□□□□□□□□ 10%

■■■□□□□□□□ 30%

■■■■□□□□□□ 40 %

>‘System error : s̸̯͆ö̵̬u̵̓ͅn̸͕͠d̸͎͠ ̶̗̓ṃ̵͑o̶͕͘d̶̫́u̷̪̔l̸̗͘é̵͎ ̷͔̔ not defined.’

system(run diagnostic);

s̸̯͆ö̵̬u̵̓ͅn̸͕͠d̸͎͠ ̶̗̓ṃ̵͑o̶͕͘d̶̫́u̷̪̔l̸̗͘é̵͎ ̷͔̔ command corrupted.

>‘process terminated.’

input(str(“Resume boot up?”  yes/no))

if yes: 

    resume int system(const char DCAH1005_bootup);

elif no:

    terminate (const char DCAH1005_boot-up );

>yes

>’resuming system bootup’

■■■■■□□□□□ 50%

■■■■■■■□□□ 70%

■■■■■■■■□□ 80 %

■■■■■■■■■■ 100%

——————

You opened your optics before quickly shutting them. Bright, it was too bright. After a moment of collecting yourself while your CPU hummed, activating your motor functions, you opened your optics again, visual feed obstructed by a message.

‘Welcome DCAH1005 !!’

You discarded the message before looking up at the source of light, a big lamp shining down on you. Suddenly aware of another presence due to quiet voices in the room, you turned your head to look at the source.

“Looks like the booting up process was successful.” Said a man, turning his head to look at a taller woman.

“Indeed it was, take it to the Daycare.” She replied evenly.

The man sputtered, “B-But, this is it’s first time online! We need to monitor it first!” 

“Is it operational?” The woman asked in a clipped tone, clearly displeased at his lack of compliance.

“Well, yes, but—“

“Then have it sent to the Daycare.” She cut him off, turning on her heel and walking out the P&S door.

The man deflated before glancing at you. Sighing, he addressed you. “Follow me.”

You opened your mouth to reply.

…

You closed it, brining a servo to your chestplate, running a system diagnostic.

>Voicebox: command input error.

Looks like your voicebox is in need of a repair, too bad this man doesn’t seem interested in helping you at all.

“I said follow me!” The man repeated in an impatient bark.

You quickly scrambled off the metal table and rushed out of the cylinder. It’s your first day on the job, you can’t be late.

——————————

Arriving at the Daycare after a brisk walk, you stared at the double doors with wide optics, intimidated by their size. The man pushed past the doors, glancing at you over his shoulder with a tired expression. You followed suit. 

Your optics were immediately assaulted by an array of vibrant colors. Eyes closing shut, you stumbled back a bit in surprise. It looked like a unicorn exploded inside a box of crayons.

“This is where you’ll be working from now on, get yourself acquainted with the Daycare Attendant.” The man said as he checked his fazwatch.

“Well, it’s time for me to clock out, your shift begins in two hours.” He then turned on his heel and marched out the door, letting the wooden portal slam close behind him.

You stood there for a moment, blinking as you tried to adjust your visual feed to be less saturated.

“Hello! You must be our new helper! Oh, how exciting! I can’t wait to show you around, you’ll love it here!” Said a high pitched voice, a jingle accompanying their ever syllable.

A sudden pressure was felt on your shoulder and you tensed, optics opening fully in surprise. You were met with the sight of another animatronic, faceplate way to close to yours as it towered over you. You felt yourself shrink under it’s attentive gaze and perma-grin.

“Come on newbie! We only have two hours and I have to give you a tour of the best area in the entire Pizza-Plex!” It said, voice layered with unbridled excitement.

Before you could make any semblance of a reply, the lanky animatronic wrapped its hand around your own and practically dragged you off towards one of the play structures. You stumbled for a moment before matching its quick pace. This was all happening a bit too fast for you, you had just gone online less than thirty minutes ago!

The sun-themed animatronic stopped at one of the slides, turning its faceplate to look down at you. “This is one of the play structures! They’re very fun to use for hide and seek, but the kids aren’t allowed to climb up its walls. No, no! Accidents can happen, friend!” The daycare attendant said in a matter-of-fact tone.

You blinked at it before glancing at the large structure, scanning it with your optics before looking back at the animatronic. Why was he telling you this exactly? This was already built into your programming. Perhaps this was a nicety by its part, a way to make things feel less rushed.

You nodded.

The sun-themed bot deflated a bit at your lack of verbal reply. “Are you alright, friend? You haven’t said a word since you got here?” It asked, hunching over more to be closer to your eye level, worry lacing it’s tone.

Right, you are supposed to have a functioning voice box. You thought for a moment before bringing your hands up in front of you, pulling out of the animatronics grasp and signing.

‘I’m sorry, my voice box doesn’t seem to be working properly.’

The daycare attendant gasped dramatically, bringing its hands to its smile. “Oh, friend! I’m so sorry to hear that, and it’s your first day too, how terrible!” It wailed, more disturbed about your condition than yourself.

This was going to be a long day.

After you reassured the attendant that you were okay, it continued to show you around the daycare, still recounting the rules, which you found unnecessary but otherwise didn’t comment.

It was ten minute before the Pizza-Plex opened  when it finished showing you around.

“And now we wait for the kids to be dropped off, there’s usually very few today, but we can never be sure.” It said, hands on its hips as he beamed at you. Suddenly, it jerked forwards, brining its hands to either side of its faceplate.

“Oh, dear me! Where are my manners! I forgot to introduce myself!” It gasped dramatically before raising its hands in the air.

“I’m Sun! But you can call me Sunny, Mr. Sun, friend, or anything you like!” He said with flourish, bending down to give a bow.

He asked, straightening himself up as it looked down at you expectantly.

You gave him your name, not with nearly as much of a performance as it gave you though. Before the excitable animating could reply, the sound of plastic balls being moved around inside the ball-pit alerte style both of you.

The animatronic snapped his head towards the sound before turning back to you, static grin seemingly brighter. “Looks like we’ve got our first one!”

——————

Annoying. That’s the perfect word to describe the Daycare theme, annoying. It was cheery and loud, bouncing off the walls in a never ending loop that anyone would tune out after hearing it for more than 10 minutes. It was too upbeat and repetitive, annoying.

A quiet jingling could be heard inside the large room, two animatronics hard at work. It has been a week since you were brought online, a week silence you’ve stared working at the Daycare alongside Sun and Moon without any previous testing. You didn’t really need any training, being that you were programmed with the knowledge of how to complete your tasks as the Daycare Attendant’s Helper, unlike the previous acrobatic bots. You placed the last pillow up in the stack of neatly organized cushions, stepping back and giving the small tower a satisfied smile. Looking around for any other mess that needed to be cleaned up, you couldn’t spot anything out of place.

Huh, you finished quicker than usual.

Slowly, your eyes wandered to the glass windows that separated the Daycare from the rest of the Pizza-Plex. Perhaps you could explore the grounds, you’ve never left before, it would be an adventure of sorts. You checked your internal clock: 12:30 AM. Moon was already out on patrol by this time.

A little roaming surely wouldn't hurt right..? I mean, you do work here. We’re you just restricted to this the daycare like Sun? Guess it’s time to find out.

With a newfound determination, you marched up to the big double doors. Pushing open the heavy wooden portal, you stood there for a moment. This was it, the moment of truth. Kicking your foot out, you shut your eyes and took a step forward. Freezing up for a moment, you opened your optics slowly and peered around. 

Huh, guess you have higher clearance than Sun. You flapped your hands with excitement, excitedly making your way down the hall as you took in your surroundings.

You somehow wound up outside the Glamrocks’s rooms when you realized… you were lost. The place was larger then you could’ve ever thought, and you haven’t even roamed the whole Plex yet!

——————

Montgomery Gator wasn’t the nicest animatronic around. It’s not an opinion, it’s an objective fact. He’s prone to outbursts, never in front of the children though, he wouldn’t endanger them like that. No, he only lets his anger and envy rear its ugly head when he’s alone, destroying everything around him in a blind range that seems to linger in the scrambled depths of his processor. Being overshadowed by Freddy didn’t help the temperamental animatronic’s already tainted reputation, if anything, it only made it worse. 

“Freddy is such a nice guy!”

“He’s so friendly, the kids love him!”

“Yeah! He’s fan favorite for sure!”

People stopped caring about what they said around him a long time ago…

“But I didn’t want Monty at my party, I wanted Freddy!”

“The gator’s dangerous.”

“I heard he hurt someone—”

The animatronic suddenly became aware of gentle pressure on his shoulder.

“Monty, are you alright?”

The gator snapped his head towards the bear, clenching his jaw tightly before giving a curt nod, shrugging his paw off. Today wasn’t a good day.

“‘M fine.” He replied, stalking off to his room, leaving behind a concerned band mate that he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at. He was Freddy after all, just so gosh darn nice.

A notification pinged his processor, popping up in his optical feed. It’s 12:00 AM. The gator sighed and dropped his shoulders, hearing the pistons in his joints let out a soft hiss at the release of pressure. Turning on his heel, he marched down to the end of the hallway that connected the band’s rooms together, rounding the corner.

——————

You continued to be captivated by your colorful surroundings as you walked down towards the main entrance area. Scanning the area, something caught your eye. A charming station, how peculiar. You and the Daycare Attendant weren’t given the lavish gift of a recharge station, instead just having a cable that could be connected to both of your charging ports. 

Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you saunter your way over to the large metal device. Peeking in while standing in your tippy toes, you peered down at the circular hoop that rested on the floor of the station. It must be a magnetic charger.

You were suddenly alerted by the sounds of footsteps being registered in your audials. You were suddenly seized with panic, every wire in your frame telling you to hide. Why? You had no idea, perhaps you weren’t meant to leave the Daycare after all.

——————

Montgomery felt his security mode boot up in his system, making him take a jerkish step forwards before resuming his regular gait. His optics began to shine a darker red, similar to Moon’s in order to both scare off intruders and not immediately alert them of his presence. Though, the thought of him, an 8 foot tall animatronic that could bench press a car, going unnoticed is a ridiculous idea in itself.

The gator grumbled as he continued his way to the main entrance area. Pausing, he did a quick scan with his optics, surveying the area from where he stood to see if he needed to ping any of the S.T.A.F.F. bots for a lost item. 

His eyes landed on the charging station. To anyone else, it would seem normal as can be, unnoticeable to the untrained eye. However, the gator knows darn well that a charging station is never left partially closed. It’s common courtesy amongst the animatronics in the building to have some manners after all. You either leave it open for the next bot, or close it while in use.

Filled with both curiosity but mostly the nagging of his security module, he sauntered over to the recharge station. He didn’t take the time to check through the small window, he’s a busy gator. Ripping the door open he stared blankly at the inside of the cell for a moment before slowly lowering his gaze. 

As soon as his optics scanned the person as an intruder, he felt his security protocols kick in on full gear. He clenched the handle of the small compartment, leaning in with narrowed eyes. Tipping his snout down to make eye-contact with the shorter animatronic, the gator let out a low growl.

“It’s past closing hours, what th’ell ‘ya doing here, lady?” 

——————

I hope I characterized both characters correctly!

——————

2nd Chapter

[hillyroberts]

Book 1: Chapter 10

Read here or on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65717263/chapters/171406648

Sorry if this is kind of a boring chapter, I promise things will speed up and spice up real soon! I hope it's at least somewhat interesting, getting to learn more about their lives and families!

Jersey Break

June 11th, 2017. New Jersey.

After the whirlwind of the last few weeks on the road, the band finally had a small break: four days to rest, recharge, and savor some downtime before their final stretch of shows. Free of obligations, everyone scattered to their respective homes, reconnecting with family and finding some peace amidst their chaotic schedule. It was a brief reprieve, just a taste of normalcy before their lives got even busier.

For Malcolm, stepping through the door of his and Sam’s family home was like entering a time capsule. Their bedroom had been untouched, complete with their matching twin beds and dinosaur lamps, and even some decorations left from Christmas, reminding them of how long it had been since they were home. With their sister Lea in the final weeks of her senior year of high school and the twins, Jillian and PJ, just wrapping up their freshman year, the house was as loud and lively as ever.

During the day, Malcolm took long, uninterrupted naps in the comfort of his own bed, while Sam went out to catch up with friends from high school. At dinnertime, the family came together, sitting around the table in the same unspoken assigned seats they’d claimed for years.

“Haven’t we missed them?” their mom said warmly, serving generous portions to her two oldest sons, as if making up for all of the home cooked meals they’d missed.

“It’s certainly been quiet around here,” fifteen-year-old Jill muttered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

“You have to tell us everything,” Lea insisted, eager to catch up with her brothers.

In the evenings, Malcolm and Sam relaxed in the den with their dad, drinking beers and watching old movies. Everything about being home was a nostalgic reminder of who they were before the band became their world. But there was something else that was a part of Malcolm’s world now, too - Bennett.

Each night, after the house settled down, Malcolm found himself glued to his phone, texting with Bennett until he could no longer will his eyes to stay open. Talking to him, even only through a rapid stream of back-and-forth messages, was as comforting to Malcolm as being back in his old bed was.

“Mouse,” Sam said sleepily on their third night home, “can you take that downstairs or lower your brightness or something?” The light from Malcolm’s phone screen illuminated the whole room.

Malcolm lowered his phone’s brightness a bit and pulled his blanket over his head. Cocooned in the warmth of his bed, he resumed typing, sinking deeper into both his mattress and his late-night conversation.

“How’s your sister?” Malcolm texted Bennett, continuing their conversation about how their time at home was going.

“She’s good,” Bennett replied. “She moved to Jersey City with her boyfriend last month. James was at dinner with us tonight too, he’s nice.”

Malcolm didn’t know much about Natalie Rivas, the elusive older sister Bennett rarely mentioned. She was four years older, and while they didn’t seem particularly close, Bennett always spoke about her warmly.

Malcolm: Oh cool, that’s nice

Bennett: What about your siblings?

Malcolm: Jill told us PJ has a girlfriend, but he won’t tell us anything about it

Bennett: I need to meet the final Rose boy

I can’t believe there’s another one of you

Malcolm: He’s… interesting lol

If Sam’s the heir, and I’m the spare, I don’t even know what PJ is

Bennett: I keep forgetting you’re with Sam

Malcolm: Always

It’s always me and Sammy. We’re like a duo. Here, it’s us and him and the other three, in the band it’s us and then the other three of you. Kinda funny how that worked out

Bennett: You guys don’t get a break from each other then, huh?

Malcolm: We never do

He’s sleeping about ten feet away from me right now. I’m under the covers because he was complaining about the light from my phone

Bennett: Lol you still share a bedroom?

Malcolm: Yep, always have

Lea and Jill share a room that’s about the same size as ours. Only PJ has his own, but it’s basically a closet

Bennett: Imagine living in a closet

Malcolm: Yeah lol what would that be like

I’ve only had my own bedroom twice. Senior year of high school when Sam went to college, and then sophomore year of college when me, Sam, and Luke had that apartment, we all had our own rooms

Bennett’s fingers hovered over his phone as he thought about how lucky he was to have always had his own bedroom. Malcolm and Sam didn’t seem to mind though. Sharing a room was probably what made them such good roommates on the road. It was also probably why they could bicker so much - they never really got a break from each other.

Bennett: So you had a roommate your freshman year of college?

Malcolm: Of course

Bennett: You’ve never mentioned him

Malcolm: So much you still don’t know about me ;)

He was alright, but that whole year was a blur honestly. I guess I’ll have to tell you about it sometime

Bennett: That’s quite ominous

Malcolm: Nah, I’m just messing with you. Like I said though, it’s kinda a blur

Bennett: I don’t think I would’ve liked having a roommate like that, or sharing my room growing up

Malcolm: Yeah, dorming did kinda suck

But I don’t mind sharing with Sam, it’s all I’ve ever known

It was fun when we were little. We used to stay up and play after our parents put us to bed, and when I had bad dreams I’d crawl into his bed

Bennett: Aww

I need to see some pictures of little you

Malcolm: My mom has so many pictures she’d love to show you, she’d love to embarrass me

Bennett: Sounds like I’ll have to come over sometime

Bennett smiled at the thought of visiting the Rose house. Malcolm’s house sounded warm and bustling, always full of lots of people and dogs. The Rivas house was quiet. Since Natalie had moved out and they'd lost their little white Maltese, Ollie, a few years ago, it was just Bennett and his parents. He loved them and felt lucky to have parents like them, but their closeness often carried an unspoken weight, shaped by Bennett’s years of struggle and pain. His parents had always done right by him, or at least done their best. They were a loving and supportive family, though the reserved nature they all shared often left the house feeling sterile despite its familiarity. Bennett appreciated the calm, but he found himself imagining what it would be like to step into Malcolm’s world.

“Benny? You’re still up?”

Bennett looked up to see his mom standing in the doorway.

“Yeah,” he said, setting his phone down. “I thought you and Papi went to bed.”

She crossed the room and kissed him on the forehead. “Who are you texting?”

“Luke,” he lied instinctively. He didn’t know why he did - his parents knew who Malcolm was, and it wouldn’t have been strange for him to be texting his bandmate.

“Tell him I said hi,” she said, cupping his cheek and giving him a smile. “Do you want your door open or shut?”

Even after he’d finished high school, she’d insisted on the door staying cracked at night so she could check on him. But now that Bennett had been away from home for the first time, spending most of the last six months traveling with the band, apparently the rules had changed.

“You can leave it open a crack,” he told her. He liked seeing a little light from the hallway.

She smiled, shutting the door almost all the way over. “I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight,” he said before turning towards the wall. As soon as she left, he picked up his phone again.

“I wish you were here right now,” read the latest text from Malcolm.

Bennett couldn’t help but smile at his phone. “In your twin bed? In your room with Sam?”

“We could make it work!”

Bennett watched the three dots of the typing bubble flick back and forth, then disappear and reappear a few times. Finally the message came in: “I miss you”.

“I miss you too,” Bennett replied.

Their conversation stretched late into the night, talking about everything and nothing. Malcolm shared how he hoped he could buy his parents a big house one day, their dream house, though he admitted he’d miss the home he’d grown up in if they sold it. They compared high school memories, comparing how their experiences had been similar and different: the classes they took, the books they read in English class, the school gossip and all the little dramas that had felt so big at the time. They talked about the band - how surreal it was that a year ago they hadn’t even released a song, and now they were working on their second album, with a fan base that grew by the day. They talked about the songs they were working on  and started brainstorming ideas for music videos. It was close to 3 a.m. when Malcolm’s replies stopped coming, the typing bubble replaced by silence. Bennett smiled softly at his phone, picturing Malcolm falling asleep mid-conversation, passed out with his phone on his chest.

“Goodnight :)” Bennett sent, even though he knew it wouldn’t be seen until the morning.

“How’s everyone in the band?” Malcolm’s dad asked, giving him a glance from the driver’s seat.

“Good,” Malcolm replied, watching the familiar scenery of his hometown pass by. He never turned down a trip to Costco, especially when it was just him and his dad. They were the only two who truly appreciated a trip to Costco, walking up and down every aisle, just to see if there were any good deals, and ending their shopping with pizza from the food court. It was the last day of their short stay at home. Malcolm was glad they’d had a big family dinner with their grandparents earlier in the week. He missed everyone while on the road, but he was looking forward to relaxing on his last night home.

“How’s Bennett?”

Malcolm tensed, suddenly remembering the late-night phone call he’d made to his dad after he kissed Bennett. “He’s good,” he said, keeping his tone casual and hoping his dad had forgotten about that conversation. It had nearly slipped his mind with everything that had happened since then.

“Did everything work out okay? You apologized, and he was okay? You never told me how that went.” Apparently, his dad had not forgotten.

“Oh, yeah. He was totally fine with it.” Malcolm shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Being in the car for this conversation was both a blessing and a curse - no eye contact, but nowhere to escape. “We’ve sort of started… seeing each other, I guess.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Malcolm caught an amused smile on his face, though his dad kept his focus on the road. “Seeing each other… like, seeing each other naked?”

“God! Dad, no!” Malcolm’s face flushed. It was the truth, but it somehow sounded like a lie when he said it. 

“Hey, you’re an adult,” his dad said with a teasing shrug. “You’re allowed to do that.”

“Oh my God,” Malcolm groaned and ran his hands through his hair. He wondered if jumping out of the car at a red light was a good idea. “No,” he clarified. “Not like that… not yet anyway. We just talk and… stuff.”

He did not know why it was so difficult to say they kissed. It wasn’t because it was his dad - he would feel just as awkward telling his mom, who he was probably closer to. Sam always teased him by calling him a Mama’s Boy. Malcolm thought Sam was the bigger Mama’s Boy - he always did everything she said without any question or complaint. Malcolm and his mother argued sometimes because he had inherited her stubbornness, but she had a special affection for her middle son. He had historically told her everything, but he didn’t know how to tell her about this.

“That’s fine, I believe you,” his dad said as they pulled into the parking lot.

Malcolm unclipped his seatbelt but hesitated before opening the door. “Dad, why did you say you knew when I told you I’m gay?”

His dad shrugged. “I just knew. Ever since you were little, you’ve always been… different. Not like Sam and PJ.”

Malcolm looked at his father disapprovingly through his eyebrows. Was this because as a child he had taken a shine to musical theater, or because he had liked playing dress-up with his sisters? He felt stereotyped and exposed, and he did not like it. All of this had only just started making sense to him recently - how could his dad have known all along? It would’ve been a lot easier if his dad had just told him when he was 16 or something and said, “listen here, son, you’re gay.”

“You’ve got a spark,” his dad added. “It’s what makes you special, buddy.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes but felt a tiny lump rise in his throat. He knew he was lucky to have such supportive parents. “Sorry I’m your gay kid and your ginger kid,” he said, managing a smile.

“You know one of those things is acceptable, but the other isn’t,” his dad quipped, poking fun at Malcolm’s red hair as he always did.

“You can tell Mom about me, as long as she promises not to tell anyone else. Especially not Sam. Please,” Malcolm begged.

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit,” his dad said, stepping out of the car. “Sam’s very reasonable.”

“Exactly,” Malcolm said with a grimace. “And he’d tell me that getting involved with Ben is not reasonable.”

His dad shrugged, understanding Malcolm’s point. “He’ll be surprised when you tell him. He doesn’t notice these kinds of things about people.”

It occurred to Malcolm that he would one day have to tell Sam. He hadn’t thought about that conversation yet. Sam was such an awkward person by nature that having awkward conversations with him was always difficult.

“Just take it slow,” his dad added. “I know Bennett’s great, but dating a friend who you work with sounds tricky. I wish I had more advice, but I really don’t have a lot of experience with that. You can always talk to me, though.”

“Cool,” Malcolm said with a faint smile, which served both as a thank you and hug he wanted to give him. He’d still have to face similar conversations with the rest of his family one day, but his dad’s acceptance made that seem a lot less scary.

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