#but alas....i persist through this show

[cupcraft]

the episode where they spend the whole time talking about how house has like i guess what would be called high-fuctioning autism now only to be like "no lol you're just an asshole" is like. the worst episode in tv history i hope fox dies a fiery death

No that line killed me. To me house is autistic and I die evrry day that they ended it with that conclusion 😭 like I'd rather them have not even done that part od the ep at all.

[radio-4-is-static]

🇦🇺❣️

[ladyloveandjustice]

I'm really glad the anime kept this in. I was worried they might not. This is the turning point for I'm in Love with the Villainess, where it becomes clear it's not just a silly isekai comedy, but a story that also earnestly discusses queer issues.

It's still fairly unusual for the kind of yuri that gets adapted to anime to outright have characters say "I'm gay", so the fact Rae frankly discusses her sexuality here is refreshing-- but on top of that, the show goes on to directly challenge homophobia.

Rae's behavior with Claire before this has been inappropriate (and they really should have toned it down in adaptations to make this convo work better, but alas) and that is acknowledged here. However, Claire moving away from Rae specifically because Rae states that she's gay is what's pointed out wrong, and the stereotype of "lesbians just can't control themselves and will creep on every woman they meet" is pointed out as wrong. This is a common stereotype that persists pretty much everywhere--the idea that it isn't "safe" for women to be around lesbians--and it is valuable that it's called out here. Gay people aren't more likely to be predatory that straight people, and that's something everyone should get through their heads.

What's more, the idea of "oh she's not gay or bi she just happened to fall in love with a woman" or "it's just a love that transcends gender" isn't a super common stereotype in the US and a lot of other countries, but it is one that pops up constantly in anime and manga, because it's seen as somehow "more okay" for a character to kiss girls if she goes out of her way to say it doesn't make her a lesbian or bi/pan. (In the novel Rae does internally mention that bisexual people exist, btw, but she's just not one of them).

So Rae bluntly saying "no gender does matter to me. I'm a lesbian. I'm only attracted to women" is refreshing. "Oh she just fell in love with that one special girl, no reflection on her sexuality whatsoever" being called out as it's own form of prejudice is a pretty big deal.

[anyydidi]

Okay, I might be crazy, or someone might have already pointed it out (after all, I am sighs a new fan), but hear me out on this.

Am I the only one who kinda compares the relationship between Gideon and Mabel to Billford?

I feel like they are the easiest way to show that you can agree that Billford is indeed canon, while still acknowledging all the terrible things Bill has done to Ford.

To be completely honest, my focus is more on the similarities between Gideon and Bill, than Mabel and Ford. I'm sure I could find some, but let's focus on the two that are more prominent.

Gideon is the perfect example when you want to point out that Bill has "loved" (in quotes, since people like Bill or Gideon (till Weirdmaggedon) aren't capable of real love) Ford even through all he has done to him in the past and in the present.

We know that since the introduction of Gideon, he had this incredible obsession with Mabel. Instantly he wanted her to be his and would go to great lengths to get her. He wasn't afraid to lie and manipulate. He wasn't afraid to hurt her through her own brother. When he didn't, in fact, get her for himself, he turned on her and her entire family. Now, his obsession stayed persistent. He still claimed to love her, even though he was ready and literally planning to rid her of her home and family. He prioritised his own selfish goals in obtaining the Mystery Shack and power, than her, well, welfare. He also wasn't opposed to physically hurting her on multiple occasions. Yes, he did always give her a chance to join him by his side, but the second she refused, he'd try to hurt her, or worse, just straight up kill her alongside her family. Remind you of someone?

The point I'm trying to make is that, while Billford is on a whole another level, these two relationships are kind of similiar. Dare I say parallels? I don't know.

The differences are that Mabel has never fallen for Gideon's flattery and did not take his bullshit, while Ford obviously has fallen and taken Bill's. Gideon at the end did switch up and redeem himself by finally seeing love for what it truly is and put Mabel over his own selfish wants, while Bill stayed on his path and was more content to torture Ford than give up his centuries-old plan to dominate the universe.

Bill might have adored in the past, probably still adored Ford in some way till his death, even though he was incredibly abusive towards him. The line between love and hate is incredibly thin, and can get mixed up on multiple occasions. Gideon hurt Mabel, while still claiming that he loved her and Bill probably did the same with Ford. For Bill, Ford was a plaything, a pet. But children can still care for their playthings and owners can care for their pets, while throwing them away in the end when they cross their path. Bill had tried to keep Ford by his side, but alas, Ford truly did not want his world to become a playground for an interdimensional being, so he crossed Bill's path. Bill had his priorities sorted, and his number one spot was taken by his dreams of domination, so he threw Ford away, which might have hurt a little (maybe even a lot, who knows), but he was still a meaning to an end.

So, this is my surprisingly long rant on how the people who claim that there is no way that Bill and Ford might have had something more intimate going on in the past, when Bill has hurt and wronged Ford on multiple occasions, do NOT understand toxic love!! And I am showing that through a strange relationship between children!

[shatcey]

Choose your true love (Silvio)

Sariel Silvio

(I really did take too few screenshots, so it's mostly going to be text)

The event starts with Belle talking to Silvio on the balcony by the sea. For me, this background is forever associated with Liner event with William… This scene is just burned in my memory…

She tells him that she wants to be his maid. Like… I watched you from afar, you've been through a lot right now, and you need me. Where was the flashback of the queen's funeral (yes, it happens just before Valerio disappears), when Valerio and Emidio bickering. Silvio tells them that this is not the place for fights, you're princes, behave yourselves. Very mature big brother. There was no more scene, just Belle's thought, that he looked very tired so she couldn't stay away any longer.

Silvio was used to women trying to get close to him (for selfish reasons), so he wasn't ready to accept her kindness as it is. But she is very persistent. A some random woman came and, ignoring her (after all, she is only a maid), starts to hitting on Silvio…

Don't be ashamed of your tastes, sweety… There's nothing wrong with that.

Belle once again insists that he needs her… to shoo women for instance. And if he needs someone to comfort him (it was after the funeral, in case you forgot), she can do it too. So… he called her cheeky and agreed.

They went to his room and….. well… he got down to business as usual… It's a woman, and he knows what they want from him, right?..

She insisted that he looked tired and needed to rest… he needed to sleep. Just rest, I'll stay here and...

He still doesn't believe her, saying she probably wanted to steal something from him while he was sleeping. She replies that she doesn't need anything from him, she only does it because she loves him.

And then someone knocked on the door. It was Carlo who brought the documents that His Majesty ordered Silvio to prepare… for the next morning (I hate this daddy so much!). Silvio tells Carlo to go to bed, he will take care of everything himself. Carlo reluctantly leaves. Belle asks to be allowed to help him, she can organize documents (or latters not quite remember) so that it is easier for him to work. Silvio doesn't really trust her, but he agrees that there is a lot of work, and he doesn't mind helping. They only finished at dawn.

Silvio commented, that despite how suspicious she is, she indeed is very helpful. They went outside for breakfast, where his Majesty noticed that Silvio spends time with women instead of working (actually, when this guy shows up, my hands itch… and I'm a very peaceful person, I can't even imagine slapping someone). Belle was protecting Silvio… "You bastard made him work, and he did it all night!" Right after saying that, she suddenly realized that she probably shouldn't talk to the king like that.

I secretly dreamed that she would hit him… alas…

The King snapped back… "Who is this woman?" Silvio said she's his personal maid and in his disrespectful style finished

They returned to Silvio's room and he praised her for having the courage to talk to King like that. She insisted that he needed to rest and she won't let him work anymore… She took him to the bed and he made her lie down next to him. He asked her if she was joking when she said she loved him. She replied that no, she was serious. And then he said that she knows nothing about him…

I don't remember if she told him that she was his future fiance or not… But I doubt he would believe her anyway...

But when she began to fall asleep, he ordered her...

She wakes up and Silvio is nowhere to be seen. So she goes looking for him. He and Carlo are in the hall discussing work.

She realized that it was HER Silvio and said that she had an odd dream or something because she was worried that he was working too much lately… He returned the documents to Carlo, saying that it would wait, and if anyone objected, just kick them. I really like to see Carlo do so…Damn, I wanna see Carlo at least!

Something like that. As I said, it was a while ago, and I don't remember much. But it was a very sweet event that showed how stubborn and determined Belle is when it comes to Silvio. I really love this girl. And I think Silvio was genuinely upset about his mother's death. No matter how terrible she was, she was still his mother. And immediately after that, he was forced to solve the problems of everyone around him… No wonder he looked so downed. There wasn't conformation that Belle really was in the past, but I like to think that she was and helped him a bit. He really needed.

And only because I like it… one of the lines Silvio said in this event

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[krazyyyyyy]

Hey hey! I love your Geo (and Hyugo) work so much I wanted to make a request! If this is too much, or potentially graphic, just ignore this. :] Geo x reader who's suicidal/depressed, but hides it well. (totally not mirroring here nooo) Or Hyugo with the same prompt. Or both, whatever you want. Thank you in advance either way, and I hope you have an excellent week!

Always by your side ( Hyugo/ Depressed Reader)

TW: Suicidal thoughts, Mentions of Drug usage

Words: 1284

Notes: I'm so sorry if you're going through some difficult times at the moment. I hope this short little fic gives you a bit of comfort.

 When will it go away? Does it ever go away? Are you stuck with this? The heavy weight of misery tugs on your heart, causing a lingering ache in your chest that shows no signs of fading. You struggled to catch your breath, as your anxieties got the better of you, making you feel small and vulnerable.

You just wanted it all to end, the pain, the misery….everything. Every day, you woke up, things only got worse; food started to lose its taste, colors lost the vibrancy that used to bewitch you, and your hobbies seemed pointless and useless. At night, you would lie awake unable to sleep with the same question repeating in your head: ‘Is life worth living?’

You lean against your hands, which were clamped on your bathroom sink's counter. You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror; you looked a mess–a broken mess, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your hair out of place. What were you going to do with yourself?

A sudden tapping from outside the bathroom door startles you.“Y/N? You okay in there?” Hyugo’s muffled voice speaks from the other side of the door

You’re quick to wipe away the tears with the sleeves of your hoodie, composing yourself to the best of your abilities before speaking. How long have you been in here?

“Y-yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” You prayed that he didn’t hear the strain in your voice, the last thing you wanted to do was worry him.

“Are you sure?” He persisted

“… Yeah, just need a minute.” You lay your head in your hands, as an instant migraine overwhelms you.

You hear him sigh, “Okay… Let me know if you need anything.” Faint footsteps let you know that he had walked away from the door, more than likely heading to the living room to watch another Sherlock Homes movie.

… Your pills… you have to go take your pills… they might be able to clear your head from all these dark thoughts. You hated having to rely on them every time you felt like this… but what other choice did you have?

You hated yourself even more, given the fact you took the pills behind Hyugo’s back. He remained unaware of your current mental state, as you did well to push all your feelings deep down inside, and then wear a smile to cover it all up. You hoped that your condition would get better with time and would disappear one day. But, instead, it got much worse with each passing day. Yet, you still didn’t have the heart to tell him about it; you knew he’d do anything to help you get better, but you couldn’t let him drop everything to help you…you didn’t deserve that from him.

After adjusting yourself, you give one last look in the mirror, before rushing out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. You kept the antidepressants hidden underneath a stack of clothes in your dresser, somewhere you thought Hyugo would never find them.

You’re quick to open and search the contents of the drawer for the pills, but to your horror, they are nowhere to be found. In an act of sheer desperation, you search through every single drawer in hopes that you have just misplaced them by mistake. Alas, the medication is still missing, meaning you would just have to go on without them until you got a new bottle. 

Your body shook anxiously, feeling the intense waves of depression hit you like a steel drum. There had to be something you could do to get rid of the emptiness that started to overwhelm you… Maybe watching that movie with Hyugo would take your mind off things…hopefully.

Closing all the drawers of your dresser, you stand up and start making your way toward the living room, which is right down the hall from your bedroom. 

After walking the short distance, you make it, but are immediately confused to find Hyugo standing in the middle of the living room with his back turned to you. He seemed to be intently looking at something he held in hand.

“Hyugo?” You called out to him, as you stepped closer to where he was standing. He remained unmoving where he stood, making you think he didn’t hear you at first. But after a brief moment, he finally turned his body to face you. He looked at you with worry and hurt in his eyes, nearly on the verge of tears. It broke your heart to see him look at you this way, and just when you were about to ask him what was wrong; your gaze shifted to what he held in his hand, and you instantly felt your heart drop.

In his hand, were the pills you had desperately tried to keep hidden from him for the longest time. Your secret was out, and now you had to deal with the backlash that came with it; this wasn’t something Hyugo wouldn’t let go so easily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He gestures toward the pill bottle in his hand, his voice filled with deep hurt. After being together for a few months, he believed you two could tell each other anything…or at least he thought so. While you were in the bathroom, Hyugo, who could tell you were unwell, had opted to help you with some unfinished chores around your apartment. While putting away some of your folded clothes, he discovered the pills, and upon finding them, he felt his heart shatter. His mind was swarmed with questions, ‘Did you not trust him?’ ‘Was he the reason for your unhappiness?’

You choked back on a sob, “… I-I’m so sorry… I couldn’t… You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Why should someone as bright and jovial as Hyugo have to deal with your darker, and painful inner struggles? This was supposed to be your fight…not his. 

Hyugo’s expression softens at your words. The hurt he had felt was eclipsed by the concern he had for you and your well-being. With the pill bottle falling to the floor, he reached out toward you, gently cupping your face in his hands, “Hey,” he spoke softly, with a warm smile on his face, “You don’t take to go through this alone, Whatever it is you're going through, I'm going to help through it. I’m here for you, always.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze, feeling the comfort and safety that his eyes often reflect. It hadn’t left completely, but the burden you felt had gotten just a bit lighter. With the unwavering support you received from your boyfriend, there was finally a glimpse of hope for the future.

“… I just…didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, tears streaming down your face. “I thought… I thought I could handle it on my own…”

Hyugo leaned down to press a soft kiss where a stray tear lingered on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything by yourself, not when I’m here.” He said, his voice firm yet still cordial. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.“I love you, but please don’t hide things like this from me anymore.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, relishing his warmth. “I won’t… I promise,”. From your response, you can feel Hyugo smile into the base of your neck.

You may have a long journey ahead you toward getting better, but with Hyugo at your side, it felt as though you could accomplish anything.

And you couldn’t be any more grateful.

[miryum]

HI!!!! Good morning/afternoon/evening to youuu! First, I want to say I really enjoy your fics, it makes me feel like I'm on cloud 9. Too bad their just fiction. Anyways....

Idk if you write fics about benny watts, but ig it's worth a shot, I'm obsessed with play date by Melanie Martinez and that song really fit with benny. When benny was only with the reader to practice or play with her but they have a little thing that a couple does but without label. So the ready gets really tired and have a fight with him, and at the end benny told her his feelings.

Really hope you can make this. And advance thank you! <33

YES!!! My beloved Benny Watts!!!! I love him so much 😊 Thank you so much for your words, yet alas, mine are just fiction *sigh* (also, love your username)

Benny moved a rook across the chess board and your face scrunched up. You were nowhere near the level that the great Benny Watts was, but you liked the think you could predict his moves. You had known Benny since you were children, and therefore were able to practically able to read each other minds. That was an argument Benny used many times to rope you into playing chess with him. If you, the person who was able to prophesy his every move, wasn't able to beat him, then he was confident no one could.

You had tried multiple times to get out of playing chess with Benny (albeit thankful that it was a bit of steady income for the two of you, seeing as you were roommates), but he always managed to trick you into playing with him. Sometimes it was through bets, or he got you tipsy, or he simply looked up with you with puppy dog eyes and you melted.

It was hard though, being Benny's friend. You were constantly left alone at the apartment- if you could call it that- and sometimes had to pick up extra shifts because Benny was too engrossed in chess that he forgot to pick up a check. Your friends had urged you to move out, seeing how the stress could get to you, but you refused. You felt bad about the prospect of leaving Benny. He was your best friend, although you sometimes wondered if you were his. He clearly shared a special relationship with Arthur and Harry, simply because they were all the same sex.

And then there was Beth.

You were unsure of when the girl had first appeared in your life; she had just showed up at one point. And you saw how Benny reacted to her.

You were about to move a knight when a knock sounded on the door. Sharing a look with Benny, both silently agreeing to pause the game, you got up and opened the door. Sighing at the character who was waiting to come in, you moved back to the chess boar and plopped back down on the ground.

"Beth!" Benny smiled brightly. You hated him for it. Your feelings for Benny were probably a main factor in why you stayed by his side, even after he had pushed you into the friend-zone multiple times unknowingly.

"Are you guys playing?" Beth moved to sit by you.

You scooted away from her and towards Benny, gesturing to the board and saying, "Play for me, will you? I could never win against the prodigy."

"Hush," Benny took your hand in his. "You were doing wonderfully."

Without another word, you sat back and watched as the two young adults warred in a battle of the wits. No matter how many times you would watch it, you were always awed at the swift, defiant movements that they shared.

An unwanted pang of jealousy wormed its way into your stomach. Why couldn't you've been great at chess? Would Benny than pay more attention to you? And how could he be so blind? Who else had stood by his side for as long as you?

Throughout the match, Benny continued to hold you hand. When you went to pull away, reaching for a book or magazine to interest yourself in, he pulled you back and muttered something about 'his good luck charm'.

Rolling your eyes at his persistence, you shrugged him off. After a while, Benny was declared the winner, but by a slight margin. Even you were able to see how Benny narrowly avoided defeat. He had gotten lucky. Beth thanked you for letting her drop by, saying she had originally come for a book that Benny suggested. After she had left, you started to pack up the chess board. You had come to live with the fact that in your shared apartment with Benny, chess boards would outnumber anything else.

"You alright?" Benny stretched out on the floor, glancing over your figure.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Come on, Y/n." Benny shot you a hard look. "I've known you forever. I can see when something bugs you. Out with it."

"Are you blind?" You rounded on his suddenly, your odd question confusing the boy.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you see what's in front of your eyes?" you pressed again. "Because I don't think you can. Every time that Beth, a lovely girl, no doubt, but only a new, shiny toy to you, rounds the corner, you're transfixed and I can't understand why."

"Where is this coming from?" Benny exclaimed, feeling bombarded.

"Haven't I been enough?" You ignore him and continued on. "I've tried to be a great friend, but it's hard sometimes. It's especially hard when I've been crushing after you for the past few years and you can't realise that I like you!"

"You like me?" Benny stilled, blinking owlishly at you.

"Of course, you idiot!" You wanted to throw the chess board down but knew that a line you shouldn't cross. "We've had some pretty bad arguments in our lives and any other friends would've separated by now. Why do you think I always come back to you?"

Benny couldn't help but let a laugh escape. "You come back to me?" he clarified, shaking is head. "No, Y/n, I come back to you. God damn it, I like you too. Love you, in fact! Ever since I first set my eyes on you. You, may I remind you, had a school-girl crush on that one boy, Jack. So, I backed off. I've been harbouring feelings for you ever since."

You stared at him. "Pardon?" you asked finally.

"I guess I am blind." Benny flashed you a brilliant smile that made you melt. "Blinded by my love."

[jhuzen]

shedding tears [m.reader]

am i still sane? absolutely not. i’m so sorry. this and the zhongli one was just meant to be a quick thirst. a few paragraphs that’s it. because like i said, they were the contenders against my aether smoot. alas, it was valentines and i got the no bitches card for this year sadly. so… :D

𖦹 nsfw, kabukimono kunikuzushi, you made him cry a lot (dacryphilia), size difference, a little belly bulge, kinda mean reader lmao

There is reward in diligence and persistence.

That much Kunikuzushi knew the moment you’ve finally granted him the attention that he so pathetically cried for, like a pitiful child, wanting to have you all to himself after having him so hellbent when you avoided him like a plague for days.

He broke through your mercy and kindness when he offered himself to you with little to no regard for the amount of times you’ve had to restrain yourself from taking him then and there, afraid to corrupt his poor little soul with the filth that polluted your draconic mind.

But that was really the last of his worries when he’s being fucked stupidly by you.

Kunikuzushi writhed in pleasure as your big finger found its way in him, with half a mind of someone who wants to make sure he doesn’t break in the process. He whined at the sensation with the way your fingers just seem to press within his tight little walls, he squirmed and his legs almost kicked you away, but you held him still, holding his legs up by his ankles with just one hand.

“[N-Name]—! N-No, not there—!” He squeals with such wanton that you couldn’t help but think otherwise. And you could care less, not when he looks this good, bathed in the moonlight that came from the windows of your humble home, his tears of pleasure glistened.

“You say that but your body shows otherwise,” your devilish smirk was more prominent as your fingers prodded around inside him and brushed against his prostate, making the puppet jolt within your grasp, hips bucking up so high with need.

Kunikuzushi’s wet and messy sobs left little to anyone’s imagination should they hear it. He was writhing within the pristine sheets of your bed, his cries inconsolable as he continued to wail for you to do more, to soothe the aching need that you now suddenly placed in him for the very first time. Euphoria slowly squeezed his mind tightly, like the bruising grip you had on his ankles, easily engulfing them with your large hands.

Far too big, you were far too big for him and somehow the thought enticed innocent little Kunikuzushi — to be enveloped by your hulking form while you pounded into him so ruthlessly.

His needy whines reached you and ought to grant him sympathy as well as aid your waning restraint. Your hand freed his ankles, letting his legs drop to the bed. “Spread your legs for me, why don’t you? I’d so very love to see every inch of you.”

Embarrassment flooded through Kunikuzushi in the form of more tears rolling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but coo at such a helpless sight. Your dearest puppet looked so ashamed for wanting you carnally, to want you under the thin veil of lust and hedonistic pleasure. And it filled your ego to see him so shy, in contrast to his shameless crying earlier, begging you to just look at him.

And now, you so generously indulged his request, eyes digging into his form as Kunikuzushi’s hesitant and quivering hands gripped the back of his thighs, lifting his legs up widespread, showing you everything that he can offer.

The puppet looked away, unable to maintain even a second of eye contact from you, lips trembling as he felt your eyes ravishing every inch of his lithe body.

Your mercy finally reached him as you crawled on top of him. Kunikuzushi was right, you could cover him so easily with your whole body. He shuddered in sinful delight, whining as he felt your erection brush up against his cocklet. Too big, all too big. Kunikuzushi wasn’t even sure if you were going to fit, but for you, he’d do anything!

Taking him by the chin, you gazed into the puppet’s eyes, his long eyelashes wet with all the crying he’s been doing, and all you could ever do was lean in, sticking your tongue out to lick his salty tears away. Delicious, like you’ve thought, you felt him quiver under your touch and it further fueled your desire to ravage him then and there. His body slowly arched up towards you, indicative of a carnal need to please you.

You moved your hips and relished in the quiet whimper that left his pretty little lips, “Are you sure you can take it, doll?” You asked, eyebrow furrowing in a half-faux concern, you teased him, showing a sense of reluctance and he was quick to nod his head vigorously.

“O-Of course! A-Anything! Anything for you!”

Your palms reached down to the meat of his ass, giving it a little squeeze and prompted his hips to lift, so reflexive in response of needing you. “Hmm? Is that so? I should warn you, if you can’t handle it, do tell, and I’ll just have to do it with someone else.” A light jest was all you did.

But the way his eyes filled with more tears of dread probed a sick sense of joy within you, almost making you smile. And while you enjoyed it, Kunikuzushi could feel his stomach drop. You? With someone else? No! He could never let that happen! You were the only one other than the blacksmiths that ever treasured him so earnestly! And the thought of being discarded again just because of not being enough for you almost made him choke on another sob.

“P-Please… don’t leave me…” he was weak in his pleas, heartbreakingly so, and you immediately regretted your words when he meekly followed it up with another meek claim, “I… I don’t think I could ever live without [Name]… without you…”

And like the good man that you are, you quelled the tiny puppet’s worries by smothering his quiet pleas with a kiss, your hand already on your cock go to guide into his puffy rim. You swallowed his whimpers as your cockhead rubbed up against the rim of his entrance, a wordless warning of your next action.

You quickly pulled away as you slowly entered him, immediately onto him as the sweetest moans and gasps leave his lips. You were stretching him out so much! You said you were preparing him but it seemed to do so little as Kunikuzushi braved through the dull ache that he felt when you pushed your hips further, managing to bury yourself into the hilt.

Your eyes almost rolled at the back of your head at just how much your poor little boy was sucking you in, so pliant and almost so easy if he wasn’t so tight. Your sanity almost tearing into shreds when his walls clenched around you, relishing in the addicting heat of his ass. A low grunt resounded from you and Kunikuzushi responded with a whimper.

His hands could barely grip onto his own thighs, his hands shaking as the sensation of pleasure soon washed over him. It felt too good, the way your cock managed to mold his walls to fit you when Kunikuzushi was dead sure that it wouldn’t work — but you slotted into him perfectly. He quickly looked down, eyes blurred with fresh tears, finding himself flushed as a bump surfaces through his tummy.

Your eyes followed to where he was looking at, grinning at the way you seemed to appear, your hands flitted to the creamy skin of his stomach and listened to the puppet suck in a sharp breath, his drooling cock twitching as your finger traced the outline of your cock.

“Look at you, love, so tiny, so adorable, and yet your body is already molding itself to be my cocksleeve, aren’t you just a good boy~” you cooed your sweet praises and Kunikuzushi was left breathless under the mercy of your words.

Call me that again, please! His mind begs but his mouth could barely form the words, letting out a girlish squeal as you pressed onto the bulge in his abdomen, back arching up to you. It was enough for you to take the hint that he’s grown accustomed to your monstrous size, and slowly moved your hips, stuttering in pace as you kept cautious at the way he seems to clench around you so tightly, almost refusing you to move.

You laughed, such a cute pretty little thing your dear Kunikuzushi was, so sweet, so innocent, now reduced into a moaning mess, with one hand already leaving his thigh to hold onto your arm that caged him in. You hissed in delight when he dug his nails into your skin in each deep thrust that you made.

And in every time that you would hit that sweet spot of his, you drew out more sinful sobs from the tiny puppet, eating up every sudden cry that comes from him from either pain or pleasure.

Your eyes glowed with a smidge of possessiveness.

Yes. This is it. For far too long you’ve been deprived of a cute little mate. Lucky you that the deities have rewarded your abstinence for far too long. And you figured that in every tear that Kunikuzushi sheds, the more your urge to fuck them out of him grew.

[ladyrijus]

Zelda liked to believe she had gotten used to frigid waters, having spent the last ten years of her life wading through the various springs, lakes, and rivers that embellished her kingdom.

Glory to Lady Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom and Blessed Waters. On behalf of my citizens, I thank you for smiling upon us and gracing our lands with an abundance of water. It is your rains that have given us harvest, your rivers that have provided us trade, your oceans that have provided us a sense of majesty beyond our wildest reckoning. But, alas, I must confess your springs and the promise of my birthright elude me!

It is for that reason, I have made pilgrimage here: to beseech you for guidance, if you will allow me. How must I unlock this hidden power? Father claims that the three spiritual resting places of Lady Hylia hold the key, but surely you have felt my presence in those springs for years; and truthfully, I do not think I have anything left of me to purify.

Please, just tell me. Show me, even, if you must. But I am at my wit's end. I do not know what more I can do. I have tried reading the ancient texts, have tried praying to the statues of my progenitor, have tried to make sense of our nation's history. What am I missing?

Help me, please. I am begging you. Take my life, if that is the price I must pay, but spare my people. Spare my friends! Spare... spare Link. I cannot let him fight this battle alone.

However, she quickly realizes that none were quite as trying as the Spring of Wisdom, and the resounding silence on top of Lanayru Mountain wracks a different type of chill down her spine.

Why won't you answer me? What have I done to earn your ire? What makes me unfit of your wisdom?

She stands there, waiting for a response that her heart knows won't come. She wants nothing more than to get out, of course, but she can't. She owes it to her people to try, even if it is unlikely that she could win a contest of persistence against a god.

Her thoughts are briefly interrupted by the subtle, rhythmic crunch of snow, a reminder of the knight behind her who does his best to pace back and forth quietly. She exhales softly, watching the puff of white escape into the sky.

"I'm cold," she murmurs, "I'm so cold."

And just like that she is seven years old again, trying to steel herself before the goddess as Urbosa kept guard, trying to not fall apart like the world did when her mother died.

She clenches her hands and tries to steady her breathing.

Think, Zelda, think.

It's a shame honestly, how history will repeat itself.

There must be a way.

Just like the tapestry said, the world will fall apart at the hands of darkness.

The princess seals it away.

A princess that isn't her.

And this time, there will be no survivors.

Oh Gods above, there will be no survivors.

The last thing she hears is the sound of water rushing around her.

[alilbatflies]

Hi there, just found your "just cake" fic and I am interested in how it continues.

What i'm saying is, please continue this fic, villainxhenchman is now one of my favorite writeblr tags.

-@the-agency-archives

Hi! I'm glad you liked part 1. Now get ready for...

...

Just Cake #2

The commonly known thing about old-fashioned traps was that when they failed to trap you, you got to tease the creator of it relentlessly. A net, seriously? People have tried before, sweetheart. Better luck next time.

The inconvenient thing about old-fashioned traps was that when done properly, they did their job damn well. It was exceptionally embarrassing to get caught in one. You should have seen that coming. Alas, you didn’t. Fool.

The henchman had tried pushing the villain out of the way once they noticed the trap. So now they were both caught. The villain hovered over them in the really quite cramped space of the net. Wasn’t that wonderful?

The villain gave the net a testing jerk. It didn’t do them any good.

“Who the fuck even uses nets these days?” the villain hissed.

“It does seem we’re quite literally trapped, boss.”

“No, we’re fuckin– not–” the villain tugged on the net violently– “UNSTUCK YOURSELF!”

“That’s not how traps work, boss.”

It was a definitely never to be mentioned ever again kind of situation, really.

The villain settled into a relative silence. They clawed at the net with one of their blades while growling and cursing occasionally. They tended to be silent most of the time, but the henchman knew very well just how varied their cursing vocabulary was.

They were sure the villain had far exceeded their word limit for the day. Their voice was furious. Cutting.

But not cutting enough to slice through the ropes.

Henchman smiled at their internal commentary; glad they didn’t blurt it out like they so often managed.

There was nothing better to do, and so they watched the villain struggle. They hung really quite skillfully above the henchman, somehow not falling down on top of them. Not that the henchman would especially mind. It was quite cold out there.

They briefly wondered who would even set up a trap that far out in the woods. The obvious answer was someone who lived around. Secret hideouts and all that jazz.

The thing which bothered them the most however was that whoever set the trap up was skilled. Skilled enough to have them both trapped. The villain especially was not easily trapped. Once that whoever came around, they would still be stuck and practically at their mercy. The henchman doubted there would be mercy to be found.

The net moved under the villain’s persistent attempts.

Cold air breezed past. The henchman came to the conclusion that someone showing up was better than freezing to death. 

The villain’s yell startled them out of their thoughts.

“SCREW THAT!”

“Screw me,” please.

The villain obviously stopped themself from cursing again, turning to look at the henchman. “Hm?” they said, which henchman translated as ‘you’ve said something?’

“Nothing.”  Here we go again. Saying stuff.

The villain measured the few nicks they managed to inconvenience the rope with. They huffed an exhale. “That’s not going to work, is it?”

“I’d presume we won’t be able to get out of a net specifically made to capture and hold magical things, boss.”

The villain huffed another exhale. They hid their knife. Then they looked down at the henchman, slumping slightly.

“Do you suppose I could sort of hm… flop down on you? Really uncomfortable up here.”

“Conserve your energy.”

The villain slumped on top of them.

The net was quite uncomfortable under their back even before, but with the added weight, it reached a whole new stage of discomfort. There was nothing the henchman could do about that. Except for maybe miraculously breaking them both out of the trap and acting like it never happened. A minion could dream.

“You’re warm,” the villain said.

“Huh.” The henchman didn’t really manage to figure out a better reaction. They felt too warm entirely, just about bellow the boiling point. It definitely had nothing to do with their proximity. Nope. Not at all.

They both stayed perfectly still.

The henchman considered shuffling, but they had a feeling it would be even more uncomfortable than before.

“Do you regret anything?”

The villain seemed to mumble that mostly to themself, but given the whole situation, the henchman caught it anyway.

“Don’t think about dying yet, boss. We’ll have plenty of chances to make it out.”

The villain hummed, unconvinced.

The henchman hardly convinced themself, so it was no surprise. They decided to answer the villain’s question at least. Death loomed over them with the deft finality of a trap shutting down with chilling-to-the-bones precision. Just like it did.

Nothing to lose but the vague concept of dignity, huh?

“I regret ruining your birthday cake.”

The villain was perfectly still for a moment. Then they lifted themself to look the henchman in the eyes. “My what?”

“Well… you see, the thing that splattered on your doorstep… on your birthday day?”

The villain blinked.

The henchman looked away. It was such an awkward thing, wasn’t it? Of all the things they could have chosen… then again. You make someone cake and then you drop it like a clumsy tool. The sole act of baking the villain cake was borderline ridiculous and entirely unprofessional, too.

“You know when my birthday is?”

“You mentioned you were born on Vampire Day once, in relation to the Candle Parade, so that’s a day after the autumn equinox, so… That’s that.”

The villain hummed quietly, thinking. They rested back down.

The henchman held perfectly still, as if that could somehow remove all of their embarrassment. They measured their breathing, for all it was worth. They had a feeling the villain could sense how uncomfortable they were anyway, but hopefully played it on the whole stuck-in-a-net situation.

“Nobody’s ever given me birthday cake before.”

“Oh, really?” The henchman tried to see the villain’s face. It was a whole new of an uncomfortable movement, so they stopped.

“You’re the first.”

“But I’ve…” Ruined it. Splattered it. Fucked up spectacularly. “…dropped it.”

“Worse things happen,” the villain said. “I appreciate the effort.”

“I didn’t even wish you… anything.” It had been a busy day. The henchman forgot about the villain’s birthday, except for all of the inconvenient times when they really couldn’t say their thing. Like in the middle of a fight, when they were in the bathroom, or when the villain finally fell asleep and the henchman didn’t want to wake them up.

Might as well fix that now. “Happy belated birthday.”

“Hm. Thank you.”

It made the henchman very comfortably warm. Convenient for the villain, they supposed, since they were being used as a personal heater at the moment.

“What’s your regret?”

“Hm?” The villain sounded almost startled.

“Your regret.” Henchman tried to adjust their head to get at least a little bit more comfortable. It only got worse. They rested back to the way they were. “You know my regret. I want to know yours.”

It took the villain a long time to make a sound again. The henchman thought perhaps they crossed the professional line too far, stepped just beyond the acceptable. They prepared their sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that but the villain spoke first.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

They are very fidgety all of a sudden. But at least they sounded like the henchman’s head might stay on their neck.

“So.” The villain cleared their throat. They searched for words and seemed to come out short.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’d prefer not to.”

“No, I’m…” The villain inhaled deeply. In a wave of composure, they spoke at once: “Actually, it partly involves you—I mean, it entirely involves you—and the thing is that you, sincerely–”

The villain’s attention shifted.

The henchman felt the silence settle over them. The last words were like stones falling into the lake, vanishing to leave but circles running on the surface.

In the silence, the henchman finally registered the someone moving closer.

The villain shifted in an attempt of a defence position despite the power-suppressing net and the inconveniently squished henchman underneath them. They bared their teeth in a snarl.

“Look who we’ve caught,” an entirely too sweet voice said. “Well, aren’t you two adorable?”

...

Part 3

[imahinatjon]

Try Not to Die

Sigma x reader 🥀🌹

I got inspired by the idea of a reader who's really scary and stuff, but has a soft spot for their love. Border on being Yandere.

It's only hinted.

Imagine...

Simga is loyal to you. He's your perfect little devotee. He can't place what it is about you, but your aura exudes control, demands respect, and he's willing to give you that and more.

Your relationship is unexpected. He adores you, and would do anything for you, but he doesn't understand why your with him. What do you see in him?

He questioned it once. And you showed him exactly how much you loved him, expressed exactly what you'd do for him, should he just ask.

He never asked you again.

That still didn't mean there weren't times where he doubted himself. He doubted himself a lot. He was in his office, doing just that, work had finished, late, he'd managed to get through it all, but the only reason there was so much because he made a little mistake the month prior. It was nothing truly detrimental, but still, he felt bad about it.

At least it was over with now.

The door to his office opened. He didn't lean up or explicitly look in your direction, but his eyes did follow you, watching you round his desk and stand beside him.

He leant back slightly to accommodate you as you sat in his lap, legs straddling both of his, his arms going to your waist, keeping you somewhat secure.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, making his tired eyes look up at you,

"Sigma..."

He knew what you wanted to say. You didn't have to tell him that he'd done too much. His eyes showed you his half hearted apology, so you merely sighed, shaking your head. You pecked his lips and hugged him, his chin resting on your chest, while yours rested on his head, a hand stroking gently at his hair.

"You need to take better care of yourself. Stop over working" you said.

He knew that.

"Especially now that the next part of the plan is in motion"

The next part- how did?... he pulled back From you slightly, leaning back so he could look up at you properly, you let him.

"Did you think I wouldn't realise? Who those 'friends' of yours are, what they're planning?"

No, he can't say he's surprised that you know. But he never did tell you, so he still finds it disconcerting. Who told you?

"He's going to have you killed, Sigma" your light tone was replaced with a slightly more serious one. He frowned.

"I know" he leant back on you, hiding from your stare.

He knows what you'd do for him, but he hopes you don't try anything. Any conflict between you and fyodor would be a disaster, and he's not even sure who for.

"Try not to die"

~~~~

He tried. He did. Even that boy - atsushi, an enemy tried to stop it, but alas he was falling. He was going to die.

Except.

Well, Nikolai saved him, using his ability, for his own special agenda of course. That was ovbious.

He wasn't expecting you to be stood beside the clown though, eyes hardened and shadow cast over your face. You were upset, angry. He's seen that expression only once before, and it terrified him. He doesn't know what to expect from you.

Nikolai had left, as per your asking. He would be back in about 10 minutes, he had his own plans afterall.

"I'd have hoped you'd try have tried harder to survive. But... well, I suppose it couldn't be helped. This is one of Fyodor's plans afterall" you said, crouching down beside where he sat, stroking his hair, running your fingers through the messed up locks, with a gentleness that contrasted your expression.

He looked up at you, worry in his eyes, and his tone slightly panicked

"How'd you known fy-"

"Shh" you quieted him with a finger to his lips.

"It doesn't matter now, your alive"

"Yeah...I am"

But the looming threat of danger still persisted.

But at least you'd be there for him.

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

Masterlist :3

[noodleblade]

absolutely love your fics! if you’re still taking requests, I think a rodimags sickfic would be adorable!!

this fic was written in April and I finally got around to editing it ;--; thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy:3

Ao3 Link

A chill crawled along trembling plating; its frosty fingers digging into the transformation seams like shards of ice. Minimus Ambus curled tightly into a ball as a frame deep ache rolled across his body. A dull, throbbing pain echoed in the center of his forehelm, his processor sluggish under the tight building pressure. Nausea threatened to flip his tanks, leaving him to swallow down acidic balls of static.

Minimus was well and truly sick.

He wasn’t sure of the exact cause. An internal system scan showed him free of any physical damage and he was clean of any infectious malware corroding his software. The only blip he could see across his vitals was a small system bug, a coding error his internal processor was struggling to correct. 

It happened from time to time, though it was often rare to feel it affect him so deeply. His system was prone to bugs when he swapped between hardwiring into the Magnus armor and disconnecting into his current frame. He wasn’t sure why his frame sometimes hiccuped in its recalibration sequencing but, alas, it was not completely unexpected. Irritating nevertheless. 

Distantly, Minimus wondered if the other prior users of the armor suffered the same or was it purely due to the inadequacies of his smaller frame?

He groaned as another tremor wrecked through his chassis, letting his optics offline as he tried to regain a semblance of composure. While this bug was a bit more severe than he was used to, he was not going to shirk off his responsibilities. The very thought of taking a sick day set his processor ablaze. All his duties, both per his station and self-imposed, would be unaccounted for without a proper replacement. He’d have to reassign them all, to make sure the proper mech was assigned the right segments of his job. 

It would…be simpler to just move his shift back. A small nap would provide him adequate rest while his system defragged the coding error. The estimated time for a total defrag was just two breems if he settled into a deep recharge. It would give him ample time to take up a later shift and complete his tasks. 

Yes, Minimus thought to himself as he settled further into the berth, just a small nap. 

He made the change quickly, optics already offlining as Thunderclash valiantly agreed to swap desk duty with him. Minimus could rest easy knowing the ship was in good hands until his nap finished. His recharge parameters started kicking in and he drifted into an aimless, deep slumber. 

—

A loud knock echoed across the dark abyss. Minimus jolted at the noise, his audials ringing at the abrupt sound as his spark rattled in his chassis. It took an agonizingly long moment for him to realize where he was, his blind optics scanning the room. 

His optics spied his orderly desk alongside the severe outline of the Magnus armor and a calm washed over him, though the drumming ache in his joints was still there. Slowly, he curled into his bed, using his arms to cradle his pounding helm. He just needed to fall back into recharge, chase the quiet slumber. According to his internal clock, his defrag was not even halfway done and for once, the prospect of rest sounded preferable to marking tasks complete on his HUD. 

The knock rapped against his door again, more persistent this time in a quick, rapid staccato. Minimus groaned quietly to himself as he tried to make himself smaller in the berth. 

A wild thought struck him as he struggled to settle, one he would only blame on the delirium of his sluggish, sickly frame. 

What if he ignored the call?

The idea was not only against his very character, but a deeper, more delusional part of him almost reveled in the depravity of such an act of selfish negligence.

But it was not without good reason.

His frame was too achy and weak to possibly entertain the thought of having anyone see him in such a state. Minimus wasn’t even wholly sure if he could get himself out of the berth at all. If he didn’t answer, whomever it was would just leave and catch him some other time. They could send him a memo, call his comm if it were truly urgent. Besides, the doors were locked, with only a select few with override authorization-

A sudden click had Minimus’s optics snapping over as he watched the door slowly slide open, a red and yellow figure standing at the threshold. 

“Yo! Mags?” 

Bright light flooded the room and Minimus turned his helm into the berth to avoid the blinding brightness. The light bringing about his helmache twofold.  

“Oh. Scrap. My bad, Mims.” 

At the soft shhhtck of the doors closing, Minimus peered up to see Rodimus walking towards him. Deceptively, Minimus thought he could see…worry? on his Captain’s faceplates. The thought caused his chest plates to tighten uncomfortably. 

“Captain?” Minimus croaked, his mind running through every possible problem that could have arisen in his absence and to cause Rodimus to look at him with that horrible pinched expression. 

Another mutiny? Pirates? Word from Cybertron? An explosion in the labs? Anything pertaining to Whirl?

He tried to sit up, to give his Captain his full and proper attention- never mind how inconsiderate and unprofessional it was to receive his Captain while still laying in his berth. However, as he lifted himself up, a wave of nausea curled in his intake and he immediately thought perhaps it would be better if he remained prone. It was still gratingly unprofessional but not as much as purging at his superior’s pedes. 

He felt…exposed on his too big berth. When the quarters had originally been assigned to him, adjustments had been made to fit Ultra Magnus’s large, boxy frame. It was perfect for when he was wearing the armor, but without it…the berth felt ridiculously large. Far too large for a standard size bot, much more so for a minibot like Minimus. He didn’t want to even think about what it would look like if he were in his truer, smaller form.

“Pits,” Rodimus crept closer, his expression morphing into something decidedly worried. “You look like slag, Mims.”

“Thank you for your thoughtful assessment,” Minimus groaned. A shiver traveled down his spine and Minimus could feel his denta clatter together. 

 Rodimus graciously ignored the snarky comeback. “Are you sick? Uh, should I get Ratchet?”

“No,” Minimus nearly bolted up right once more. The sudden movement made his processor spin and he quickly fell back onto the berth, bringing his servo up to cover his optics. The room was spinning. “I’m fine. It's just a small system bug.”

“Sure.” Rodimus sounded anything but convinced. “It’s not like you to skip your shift.”

Minimus frowned behind his servo. “Skip? My shift isn’t until third rotation.” 

He had swapped with Thunderclash, responsibly making sure he wouldn’t leave a gap in coverage. He had reassigned himself, leaving appropriate room for recovery. His defrag was only estimated for 2 breems and it wasn’t even halfway over. 

Rodimus snorted. “Yeah, that was over a breem ago. Megs took your shift for you and told me not to bother you.”

“Oh.” Minimus swallowed around the word. 

A quick glimpse at his defrag estimation window still showed half left to work through, but time lapsed showed near double that what had been estimated. It looked as if the defrag had stalled, struggling with a nasty tangle of mixed up coding. In the midst of his slumber, Minimus had been unaware, his recharge attempting to conserve power.

Embarrassment curled around his throat and Minimus felt his stomach flip. Failure, even when medically induced, was still a shameful, humiliating feeling.

 “Why are you here?”

“You think Megatron can just tell me what to do?” Rodimus huffed. A warm servo pressed against Minimus’s exposed forehead. “Primus, you’re icy. Are you sure you don’t want me to get Ratchet?” Worry tinged his Captain’s words. 

Originally, Minimus had taken Rodimus’s concern as something surely going catastrophic on the ship. He hadn’t considered the possibility it was over his well-being. 

It shouldn’t make his spark spin at the thought but…it was rare to find Rodimus concerned about anything, much less him. It wasn’t that Rodimus was an unkind mech, but…Minimus was unused to the treatment all the same. 

“I’ll be okay,” Minimus murmured shyly, his words slow under the delightfully warm, heavy weight of Rodimus’s hand on his helm. “I just need to rest. Once my system has done a thorough debugging, I should be back in right order. I can make up for my missed shift and issue a formal apology to Megatron.”

During the debugging, most of his internal systems were stalled until the problem was sorted, which included thermal regulation. While his frame was well above critical chill point, Minimus was cold. Normally, he would have resorted to using the Magnus armor for heating, subrouting its ventilations inward for additional warmth. However, Minimus was worried that hardwiring in would leave the armor vulnerable to catching the system bug and while it was a small, measly thing, he didn’t want to risk any damage to the armor. 

Rodimus snorted an unamused laugh. “Only you would worry about making up work when you can barely keep your optics online. It’s fine. Megatron’s got nothing going on anyway. If anything, he should be thanking you.”

Minimus felt unnaturally soothed by those words. “Of course, Captain.”

“Need help warming up?” Rodimus asked.

Minimus hummed an affirmative. He opened his mouth to give instruction on where Rodimus could find a thermal tarp. He didn’t keep any in his quarters but if Rodimus went to supply closet 3B24, there should be extras and-

The edge of the berth creaked and Minimus felt movement.

He let his optics online slowly, just in time to see Rodimus shimmy onto the berth and flop down beside him.

“What are you doing?” Minimus asked. He tried for indignation but it fell short and sounded more pitiful than anything else. 

“Well,” Rodimus huffed as he scooted closer, “I run a little hot and since you're cold…”

Minimus raised a concerned optic ridge but before he could swat Rodimus away, warmth swept against his frame as Rodimus pulled him closer.

“Oh,” Minimus murmured, halfway between a grasp and, embarrassingly enough, a moan. 

“Told ya.” He could hear the cocksure grin in the Captain’s voice but found no need to dismiss it. Not when Rodimus was so heavenly, blazingly correct. Despite himself, Minimus pressed closer until he could feel his pedes knock against Rodimus’s knees. “Feels good right?”

Admission was…too much. Minimus may be borderline snuggling with his Captain, but he would not further feed Rodimus’s ego, especially when any affirmation felt like a confession. Even allowing Rodimus this crossing of boundary felt like a blatant confession, admission, something too vulnerable. Thankfully, Minimus’s ailment seemed to allow for perfect plausible deniability. Which was great because Minimus…didn’t want to give up this warmth any time soon.

“Aren’t you on shift?” Minimus asked blearily. He knew he could check the schedule and confirm this but…for once, Minimus would find himself okay if Rodimus decided to lie. He would be purposefully oblivious.

“Nah,” Rodimus stretched out. “I transferred that to Drift to come investigate your situation.”

Minimus hummed, a shiver wrecking through his body making him curl close to Rodimus’s too-warm plating. “How diligent.” He meant it bitingly, but it almost came out complimentary. 

Above him, Rodimus snorted, servo coming to rest against the center of Minimus’s strut. The warmth made Minimus melt, any remaining tension in his frame seeping away as he laid slack against his captain. 

“Besides,” Rodimus shifted a little, settling further into the large berth, “it would be un-diligent of me to leave you unattended.”

Minimus bit his tongue as his processor nagged him that Ratchet or First Aid would be better medical professionals to call upon attendance to his ailment. Instead, he pressed his face into Rodimus’s broad chest plate, knocking his forehead against his Autobot badge. He even ignored the incorrect negative affixation.

 “Responsibility is a good look for you, Captain.”

“Jeez Mims,” Rodimus leered, though his tone was too soft to hold any real edge, “skipping shift and flirting with your superior; you must really be out of it.”

Weakly, Minimus lifted his servo to lightly tap Rodimus on the lips, grumbling a soft shhh. In the retreating motion, he scrambled for the edge of the tarp hanging around their waists.

Seeing his wants, Rodimus reached for the tarp easily, pulling it up to rest loosely at Minimus’s neck. Tiny engine vibrating in a quiet purr, Minimus let his optics flicker off, content to listen to Rodimus’s inner mechanics whirl softly in his chassis. “Sleep, Mims,” Rodimus murmured quietly. Distantly, at the edges of his sensor net, Minimus could have sworn he felt the warm drag of digits tracing along his spinal strut. “I’ll watch your back.”

[sarah-yyy]

drive-by rec post for warm on a cold night which just finished airing last night!!

super quick “no time to listen to sarah yell over cdramas now” overview and links first before we get into it as usual:

what: period cdrama // 36 eps, roughly 45 mins each where: iqiyi // viki (usual disclaimer that i do not use eng subs so i don’t speak to the quality of subs) why: fun period cdrama werewolf romance with a sprinkle of crime-solving and uh hand-holding for Plot Reasons

my sweet girl su jiu’er of the qian kingdom! she is the only female constable in the city, but mostly does chores that none of the constables do because she’s had this condition since she was young where her body temperature drops rapidly out of nowhere and she faints randomly so no-one really lets her out to investigate cases even though she’s got the brains for it :(

this loser (affectionate) is han zheng, prince of the qi kingdom - the people of qi are all shapeshifters (think werewolves, though the actual shifting is never really explored too much so idk if they all shift into wolves or if this is specific to han zheng and his branch) who have superior physical abilities. han zheng starts out aloof, arrogant, and low-key anti-qian, but goes through a whole series of character growth because of jiu’er.

these two meet when han zheng sneaks into the qian kingdom to investigate the disappearance of his old friend (who has been branded a traitor of the qi kingdom; hz does not believe this). 

jiu’er finds out that touching han zheng alleviates her condition, like he literally warms her up whenever she touches him, so she keeps trying to do that (sometimes with adorable please save me i’m dying begging, sometimes with buddy you are literally an illegal immigrant here i call the shots blackmail, my girl has range) to han zheng’s initial distaste :))) the two of them team up to first solve recent mysteries in the city targeting the qi people, and then later investigate han zheng’s bff’s disappearance and jiu’er father’s death.

this show is so funny!! jiu’er persistently tries to get han zheng to try new things and make friends (even with his love rival!!!!!), and the banter between them at the start is so funny! their rivals to friends to lovers transition is also so smooth, and there is A LOT of gratuitous hand-holding scenes thank you scriptwriter for feeding me so well

ANYWAY the setting is fun, the cases move really quickly and most of them are quite interesting. i think it’s meant to be more a romcom than it is a crime-solving drama, so i went in with lower expectations re: the cases etc which helped! most of them are not that complicated, but still fun to watch unfold! the fight scenes are done really well

the side characters are also a+++

sleepy boy in the middle is wen jun (prince of the qian kingdom), who has had a crush on jiu’er since they were little and she took care of him when he was banished to this temple with his sickly mother by the emperor. they lost contact with each other when he was taken back to the palace after his mother passed. he is THE SWEETEST BOY!!! he doesn’t really have a mind for politics (that’s all left to his elder brother), so his fam just lets him enjoy life writing plays and spending money. he helps out with their investigation and follows han zheng and jiu’er around like a puppy :’) major ot3 vibes but ALAS

HELLO DA-DIANXIA MY LOVE :’) i am a sucker for a smart, well put together man, so can y’all really blame me for imprinting upon wen ying like this??? he is SUSPICIOUS af from the get-go, but also he’s so good and so kind to wen jun that i keep thinking the show is just trying to bait me into thinking he’s the bad guy :( ANYWAY in the later eps, he’s got this Thing going on with chi lan (badass general of the yi kingdom who is also han zheng’s other bff) that just makes me go !!! because of the potential

moustache man is jiu’er’s godfather! also one of my favourite characters with a+++ comedic timing tbh!!! can’t say more about him because spoilers but I LOVE HIM OKAY

if y’all are looking for a nice, low-stakes watch, this is probably the show for you! it’s mostly light-hearted, nothing too complex that requires full attention, and really easy to binge - i probably could’ve done this whole show in one weekend if i weren’t also battling jetlag :D

[elijahfalvey]

LOCATION / Elijah & Nilay's home, Deer Park.

WHEN / August 18th, 2024. Their 3rd anniversary.

WITH / Nilay Bailey — @doctornilaybailey

Elijah, unfortunately, had yet to find time. The emotional barrier that he had steadily built showed no signs of crumbling underneath the weight of Nilay's persistence, the man brushing off nearly every attempt at meaningful conversation for the whole damn week that followed. He'd like to believe that it was unintentional, his absent demeanor but a byproduct of a stressful week at the studio — but each time he woke to an empty bed, sat down at the kitchen table with only one plate, the pang of guilt that quickly followed reminded him that it was perhaps more deliberate than he outwardly let on. It was no fault of Nilay’s, not really. From the moment she’d learned about the truth behind his relationship with Harrison, the band’s dynamics and all the messy details that followed, she had been nothing short of supportive. He couldn’t have asked for anything more, and alongside the guilt came knowledge that he should be grateful for having someone like her as a girlfriend — no, a partner. Alas, it was the fault of his own mind, his ever present avoidant tendencies ensuring that he wouldn’t talk about something unless he wanted to. And, well — he didn’t. Simply put. He didn’t want to talk about Harrison. Or Roman. Or Toni. Or about how his mental health had been at a rapid decline since the band’s disbandment anniversary, since the string of sleepless nights. In fact, it’d been difficult to think of things he’d rather talk about, in the face of someone who was reaching for a shred of vulnerability. Needless to say, it was easier to not talk about anything at all, which is exactly how they wound up here: merely a few rooms apart in the same damn house, on their third anniversary, not saying a single thing. Their parents had tried to make it easy on them, offering their home to the girls for the night — “Oh, maybe we can have fun for the whole weekend! Doesn’t that sound lovely?” He remembered his mother saying, actually, as she took one look at her disheveled son — but it meant little, in the grand scheme of things. He and Nilay were supposed to leave for a dinner reservation at Oyster & Pearl in less than an hour, but besides the pre-planned commitment, their interaction had been limited. At the moment, he was currently scrolling through a forum on his phone, killing time, while Nilay was . . . getting ready, maybe? He thought he heard the shower running. The sound of heels clacking against the hardwood floors diverted his attention, though, craning his neck against the back of the couch to watch her emerge from the hallway, fully-dressed. “Hey,” he said lamely, eyes following her movements towards the door. “I was just about to start getting dressed.” It was then that he noticed — miraculously — that her purse was already underneath her arm, the keys to the Jeep already between her fingers. His brows furrowed obliviously. “Wait, I thought we had to be there at seven? Did I screw up the time?”

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

The sweltering heat was a lot.

The sun was baking in heat in any and all forms of life from above.

Night Raven Students hurry to shades or run to class to hopefully get some cool air in their systems within the stone walls.

But alas, one student stood out from the rest on this hot day, leaning by one of the stones with closed eyes as one hand held firm his leather bound bag while the other rubs his sore meaty neck as people walk by is Leona Kingscholar waiting for something to happen it seems.

Come on you sneak, I won’t ignore you ditching me. He thought to himself in a scowl, a yawn showing off his fangs erupts his form as he cracked his neck.

His feline ears twitch at a certain sound.

His beautiful gem greens of eyes open a crack and look up.

His handsome face broke in a smirk.

Walking up to the wall is Jamil Viper wearing a short sleeved button up and a sweater vest to work well with the heat on the school grounds.

Well, guess you’re worth a wait…

A few birds chirp afar, a distance ballad melody for prying ears to hear and enjoy or loath as they wander about this fine summer day.

The breeze was now just picking up and getting a bit cooler as if the Gods finally answered the pleads of many to come and settle down this blazing heat.

Tucked away in a beautiful green house of grass, hidden away with the scent of floral and soil, behind the soft shadows of large leaves and tall plants around, hushed away by the gentle flow of the stream two souls connect as two lips press against each other in sweet open mouth kisses.

The prince snakes an arm around the thin waste on top of him as the Viper’s son rubs his fingers through dense black hair.

A small growl leaves the kissing as a finger gently tugs at a hidden knot.

Jamil pulls away, cole eye staring at emeralds. “Maybe if you take better hygiene you wouldn’t be so knotted up.” He scolded lightly, ignoring the would be scolding of the lion undoing his updo but leaves the braids.

Leona rolls his eyes in response and merely leans back up to meet Jamil’s soft lips again, momentarily silencing the servant boy. Jamil hums softly in the kiss, pushing back to add pressure as their mouths open and they kiss with much more space and care for, their lips and tongue exploring and tasting this dish they’re both so familiar with already yet are trying new ways still.

It’s hard to pinpoint when this began with the two, when the barely edged line in the sand of schoolmates turned partners in kissing was crossed, but they can know when the first time their lips met in such a personal way. . .

—

“Hey, you wanna go to town sometime?”

Jamil looked up at the Savannaclaw dorm head and sigh, bag being fixed around his shoulders, he harbored his voice up to the surface in the sea of noise, “Again? Why are you so hooked on taking me to town someday?”

Leona shrugs and walks with him, “Cause I want to.”

“You ask me almost every day now…”

“I’m what some people call…persistence.”

Jamil rolls his cole eyes under his eyelids. Cole gray, like a fireplace burning down low with soft embers on a cold winter’s night, eyes that are cold to the glare yet have a deep rooted warmth hidden away.

Leona smirks, “What’s the matter, worried I might kiss ya?”

Jamil freezes as he stares up at Leona in shock that such words left those royal lips.

And there is it~

The hunger of new knowledge Leona craves for plenty.

The yearn to lick his teeth in thirst as he gets new information.

He has always been curious about his school chum in Scarabia since the first day he arrived. So isolating and cold, a perfect little snake hidden away in the grass blending in. But even small snakes can pack a mighty lethal bite, and Jamil was no exception after all as proven when the live feed of him trying to mind control Azul Ashengrotto was shown on his phone during winter break and his overblot right after.

This was the start of the journey Leona was aching for new things to learn in his boring school life and Jamil was just so beyond perfect to learn. 

Leona watches as Jamil looks away, smirking at the obvious warm glow on the younger’s cheeks. He bends his torso a touch as he gets close to the ear of his little prey, “If I were, I would gladly make your first kiss special~” 

Jamil blinks, “What?”

Leona tilts his head, “Huh?”

Jamil turns his head and stares at his upperclassman, his perfect eyebrows curved in a forever curious motion as he stares at him so intensely.

“Kalim was my first kiss.”

Leona’s ears turn down in a flat motion as he stares at Jamil in shock. Did I hear that right? He thought with eyes wide open.

He can’t possibly imagine those two faces merging together in any context or meaning of those translations!

He watches as Jamil walks ahead in the hall, away from Leona’s side, to the bright eyed little sunshine that steals all of his attention.

Images of their faces growing close and locking in broad daylight sneaks up in Leona’s mind.

Flashing imagery of Kalim’s arms wrapping around Jamil’s thin neck right there in the damn hallway burns Leona’s eyes with each blink.

Sicking sounds of their mouths moving and making gentle sounds hit his ears with his mind’s own personal record player on loop as he pictures Kalim’s face attached to Jamil’s.

Kalim’s eyes open as his tongue roams the mouth of his servant.

Kalim’s little smirk of victory as he so publicly claimed Jamil in front of him.

“Uh, Leona, you’re gonna stand there forever or–”

Leona pauses.

Leona looks to his side and sees Ruggie standing there confused.

Leona blinks for a second and looks back to the halls, seeing Jamil and Kalim walking away talking in clear imbalance.

Soon, Ruggie’s snickering takes him out of his entranced space, “Daydreaming much? That’s dangerous Leona~”

Leona frowns as his feet start walking. Stupid Viper, why did he have to spring that on me?! He growls silently as he ignores his friend’s calls out as he tries to keep up, his mind thinking back on the conversation just a few minutes ago.

How can he say something so matter-of-factly!?

Jamil glances over his shoulder as he crosses the mirror to Scarabia with Kalim, who is talking about whatever, watching as the lion prince of the Savannah walks into his mirror with a scowl on his face. His angry, handsome, face.

Jamil lets out a sigh as he accepts the different heat he’s used to in his dorm

Great, what was that all about anyways?

—

Leona watches Jamil’s face closely, watching how he breaths and how his face twitches some in emotions. Jamil’s hands dig deep into the fabric of his shirt as he cuddles close.

It was only a week since that hallway conversation when the two met up in this way, buried away in the back of an empty locker room after their club activities lips locked. 

All Leona had to do was be angry from that conversation for Jamil to be curious.

All Jamil had to do was bump into Leona for him to crack and crash their faces together in a lip bruising memory.

All they had to do was be so frustrated in their own curiosity they end up in this situation. 

Leona smirks as he hears Jamil’s voice gasp in a hitch as he rubs his ear shell as their lips meet in the kiss, keeping a mental note of the noise and what causes it.

Feeling annoyed he’s the only one shaking, Jamil shoves his tongue into Leona’s mouth without much warning. He smirks to himself as he felt and heard Leona be taken aback from the sensation and focused on this.

This is just like speaking, yes? Just focus on your Rs… He thought as he acted as if he’s taking a special conversation lacking sound but with lots of R related words to draw out.

Leona’s tongue lightly bumps onto his, the rough feeling startling Jamil some, both obviously curious and eager of the organs in their mouths. 

It takes so much of the other to not melt to the sensation of this kiss and seem weak in front of their momentary partner.

It takes so much not to grab and cling onto the body in front of them.

It takes so much not to let their vocal cords work freely at the warm feeling around them.

The two pull away, gasping for air.

Emerald greens stare deep into cole black.

Animal fangs gleaming in labored breaths matching the others’ less fanging canines.

One way of messy knots of black vines stands in comparison to the one that grew messy in the moment. 

They stare at each other, lips swollen and glittering in sweat from the intense kisses, hands on each other to keep balance but also to not let go. 

“From now on, I’m learning all your firsts, got that?”

“HUH?!”

—

True to his word, since then Leona learned new things about Jamil.

Jamil’s first move mark was made by Leona behind a pillar after the final class period.

Jamil’s first mature touch was given by Leona after a joint P.E. class.

Jamil’s first time touching someone else in such a personal way was thanks to Leona convincing him to swim in the watering hole in Savannaclaw’s lounge late on a school night. 

Despite the intense heat that oozes out of the two in their casual affair that’s what it was: 

Casual.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will randomly appear in front of him.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will randomly kiss him again.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will suddenly take even more firsts.

Jamil doesn’t know anything and it’s killing him!

So now here they are, in the green house, locking lips when they should be in their final classes of their day, with Jamil sitting on the dorm leader’s legs. 

Leona rubs circles on the vice’s back as Jamil’s head lays on his chest, both of their lips reddish from their nibbles and puckering sucks.

Jamil’s eyes are closed, listening to the sound of Leona’s lungs and hearts make music under the hardened flesh of his chest, his body collecting and settling his breathing carefully.

Vrrr…

Jamil’s eyebrow quirks slightly.

Vrrr…

What is that-

Jamil sat up fast, cranking his neck to look up at Leona who looked at him confused in return.

“You purr??”

Leona’s ears flatten and he looks away to the side, his expression not fitting his words, “No-”

Jamil smirks victoriously as he feels the soft vibrations of a purr in Leona’s chest still.

“Oh hush up!”

The snake lets out a mighty laugh as Leona growls, cheeks flushed in exposed embarrassment. 

The two calmed down and stayed still after a moment, bodies close.

“So,” Leona started, “How was your first time ditching class?”

Jamil pressed his cheek against the bicep under him, so relaxed with the warm solid body holding him with the purrs. “Honestly, nerve wrecking…” He admitted, his eyes slowly fluttering to a close. “But at the same time, it’s calming…”

“Well obviously, you’ve been overworking so much you deserve to step back for a while.”

“Mm…”

“. . . Are you falling asleep on me?”

Leona looks down and pauses.

He watches Jamil’s steady breathing.

He admires how the light through the glass and plants form lovely light beams and shadows across Jamil’s smooth dark olive skin and flowing silky black hair.

He looks peaceful…

Slowly, he raises a hand and places the palm against the younger man’s head.

Jamil hums softly and seems to openly accept the touch.

Leona smiles to himself, leaning his head back into the grass as his own tired eyes close and accept the warmth as well.

Maybe this heat isn’t so bad?

[partypoisonzz]

singing vows before we exchange smoke rings (mikey way x reader smut)

Era: Bullets/Van Days (2003)

Reader Pronouns: She/her

Content:

- Recreational drug use (weed)

- An endearingly awkward first time

- Lots of position switching

Word Count: 4,334

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

-

You return to the van after the show, expecting to find the whole band. It isn't that you can't carry the remaining boxes of merch back by yourself, — you totally can, — but having four extra sets of hands generally helps a ton.

Alas, when you shift the box you're currently carrying onto your hip and slide the door open, you find that only one of the guys is accounted for. That one guy happens to be spindly, uncoordinated Mikey.

Though you know that he's hardly any better at carrying merch boxes than you are, thirteen pound bass be damned, you'll take whatever help you can get. "Hey, Mikey?"

He startles at the sound of your voice, looking up from his cell phone. "Oh. Yeah?"

You struggle to keep the box balanced. God knows that you don't want to spill half a box of CDs in the parking lot. "Can I get a little help here?"

"Yeah. Absolutely." He stands up, only to hit his head on the top of the van. "Ow! Shit..." he grumbles, ambling to a stop in front of you. "I'll get that."

He takes the box from you. Though he still struggles to keep it leveraged, he has less trouble carrying it around to the back of the van and lifting it into the trunk than you would. He turns to look at you after setting the box down, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Got any more?"

"Just a few, over by the merch tent," you reply. "I'll buy you a candy bar if you come help me with them."

He flashes you a boyish grin. "Deal."

The two of you head towards the merch tent. "The T-shirts were pretty thoroughly picked through," you say. "CDs got gone, too. I  think we just brought out too many."

"Yeah, well. We can get overzealous sometimes." Mikey stops in front of the table, surveying the remaining few boxes. He picks up the fullest one before heading back towards the van.

You pick up another box and follow him. "So, where did everybody else go?" you ask.

"Out partying," he replies. "Gerard's still messed up over that girl. No matter how many times we tell him that we didn't like her anyway, he still feels the need to mope and drown his sorrows in alcohol."

"Well, he liked her. That makes all the difference." You shove the second box into the trunk. "Alright. One more and I'll get out of your hair."

Mikey places his own box down and turns towards you. "Who says I want you out of my hair?"

You feel your face heating up. Thank God that it's dark outside, or he would see that you're blushing.

You shrug. "I just kinda figured you wanted to be alone, since you stayed back..."

"No," he cuts you off. "You're good. Seriously. I was getting kind of lonely, anyway."

"You aren't just saying that to make me feel better?" you press, following him back to the tent.

He shakes his head. "Nope. In fact, I'd enjoy the company."

Your face grows hotter.

The fact that Mikey might enjoy your company means more to you than you would really like to admit.

"So, why are you stuck on parking lot duty while the rest of the guys have a night out on the town?" You lift the last box full of shirts. "Not to pit you against your bandmates or anything, but that hardly seems fair."

Mikey laughs as he picks up the other box. "You wanna know the truth?"

"Always."

"I'm kinda hungover right now," he says. "Just the thought of looking at liquor makes me want to puke. Not to mention having to spend the rest of my evening with Bert."

You mock-gasp. "Michael!" You jostle him lightly with your shoulder. "How dare you speak ill of your brother's boyfriend?"

Mikey responds to your joking inquiry with a question of his own. "Do you really think watching Bert serve as Gerard's rebound would do anything good for my persistent nausea?"

You pretend to think about it before sighing in mock defeat. "No. I guess not."

"That's what I thought."

With the last merch boxes secured in the back of the van, the two of you are finally left up to your own devices.

"So, what now?" You lean against the side of the van, crossing your arms over your chest. The February night's air has a definite bite to it. "It's about eleven o'clock. We don't have to be in Massachusetts until the day after tomorrow, so who knows when the rest will be back." You cast Mikey a curious glance. "You got any ideas?"

Though you assume that his shrug is intended to seem noncommittal, he has a guilty look about him as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Uh... I might have something..."

You raise your eyebrows at him, but you know better than to ask if he's thinking what you're thinking.

Whatever you hope he might have in mind probably won't be the case. Besides, if he rejects you, you're going to be alone with him for the foreseeable future. How awkward would that be?

"Something like what?" you ask, attempting to keep any hint of hope out of your voice.

Mikey's eyes dart around the parking lot. Once he has apparently decided that he's in the clear, he reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a balled-up plastic bag. "Me and Frank, um... We met a guy before the show..."

You let out an incredulous laugh. "You mean to tell me that you played an entire show with a baggie of weed in your pocket?"

"Uh, kinda... Well, yeah." He doesn't crack a smile. For the moment, he is totally and completely, almost laughably serious. "So, are you in?"

"You're a brave man, Mikey Way." You nod at him. "Sure."

"Great." He pushes the door of the van open and steps back inside. "Just let me grab my stuff..."

You peek your head around the corner. "Don't you want to do it in there?"

"Nah." You hear him rustling around, searching for something. "I don't particularly want to add pot to the stench in here. Brian would kill me." He finally seems to locate what he's looking for, stuffing it into his pocket before carefully working his way down the middle aisle again. "This place is just one big smoke cloud, anyway. As long as we're careful, we'll be fine."

You grin. "Living dangerously, I see. I wouldn't have pegged you for the type."

"You'd be surprised." He closes the door and turns to look at you. "So. You wanna sit on the hood of the van?"

-

"Is that one the big dipper?"

"No. That's the little dipper." You point off into the distance. "The big one's over here, see?"

You turn your head to the side, watching as Mikey squints up at the sky. He appears to be genuinely concentrating.

Finally, he shakes his head. "I don't see a thing," he admits. "But those are definitely stars."

You laugh, reaching to swipe the joint from between his fingers. He lets you take it without putting up a fight.

You take a deep pull, sucking the smoke in until you let out a cough. You pass it back to Mikey, who immediately takes a drag himself.

You try not to think about the fact that the two of you are technically swapping spit right now, albeit not in the way that you would like.

"Was this on your agenda for tonight?" you ask him. "Getting high in the parking lot with the merch girl?"

He pulls away from the joint, passing it back to you as he blows a rather impressive smoke ring. "You aren't just the merch girl, y'know."

"No?" You take a shallower drag before pulling away. Your head already feels fuzzy. Everything around you moves slower, seems gentler. "What am I, then?"

"You're my friend." He sounds so earnest as he takes the joint back, allowing it to burn out between his fingers.

Your chest tightens. Still, you don't give yourself the luxury of believing it. "You really think that?" you ask dubiously. "We barely get the opportunity to get two words in to each other most of the time. Plus, you're a rockstar, and I'm just some loser, trying to scrape through college..."

"I am not a rockstar," he cuts you off. "The rest of the guys could be, I guess. Gerard's got the stage presence. Frank's got the work ethic. Ray's... Well, he's the best guitarist I've ever met, really. But me?" He shrugs. "I just had the vision. I know we're a glorified garage band. I'm just happy to be in a band at all."

He shoots you a shy smile. "If I had any sense about me, I'd be in your shoes right now," he says. "Maybe we'd share a class or something."

You shake your head vehemently. "No."

"No what?" Mikey giggles, reaching a finger out to poke you in the ribs. "You think you're too smart to share a class with me?"

Christ, he's stoned. Not that you aren't, too.

"No," you repeat. "You shouldn't be in my shoes right now. And you're definitely not in a glorified garage band." You meet his eyes through the dark.

"You're gonna make it, Mikey," you tell him. "Not just your band. You. There's more to you than you give yourself credit for."

At first, he just blinks at you.

Your stomach sinks. If he hadn't figured out that you had a crush on him before, he definitely knows now.

Finally, he laughs. There's no malice in it, nor discomfort. He sounds... Well, happy.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "That, ah... That means a lot."

You sigh, turning away from him. Your face feels like it's about to catch fire. Even though the compliment lit him up, you still feel so stupid. Like you shouldn't be sitting here next to him, smoking his weed, taking up his time.

You like him. You've liked him since the moment you first met him. Knowing that the band is going to take off, — you can feel it in your bones that they will, — and that you'll have to trade in your merch-selling gig for something more substantial, you know that this is a dumb thing to put yourself through. Mikey will be able to go after anyone he wants, and he won't think twice about that one merch girl back in Jersey ever again.

A cold gust of air passes by, causing you to shiver.

"Are you cold?" Mikey scoots closer to you. "Here."

You watch as he shrugs out of his coat. "You don't have to do that," you protest. "I'm okay."

He shakes his head. "You're freezing," he argues. "I can tell."

"Mikey..." You trail off as he holds his coat out to you.

His eyes are red and sleepy, but they're also full of hope.

You sigh and pull your arms through the sleeves.

Mikey practically beams as you pull the coat tighter around you. "There we go."

Before you can stop it, the question that is currently nagging at you slips from your tongue. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Mikey blinks at you. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Am I not always nice?"

"Yeah, but..." You reach up, nervously running a hand through your hair before listing off all the things he's done tonight that have fucked with your head.

"Helping me with the merch was one thing. I figured you were just being decent," you start. "But then you asked me to stay with you and invited me to smoke and listened to me talk about constellations and called me your friend and said I was smart and..."

"Hey." You startle at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder at first. Just when he's about to pull away, however, you melt into his touch. Just like you've been dying to do forever.

Mikey sighs, staring across the parking lot. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't wanna, like... make you uncomfortable, or give you the wrong idea, or anything..."

"It isn't anything like that," you say. "I'm just..." You look down at the ground, huffing out a broken laugh before looking back up at him.

"I know that you have other people you could call," you go on. "So why me?"

He looks at you like you've grown an extra head. "What do you mean, why you?"

"I didn't think you knew I existed," you blurt out. "Well, I mean, you knew I existed, obviously, since I've been working for your band, and I've hung out with you guys a few times after shows. But the fact that you care enough to want to hang out with me... To listen to me talk about nothing... To give me your jacket..." You give another watery laugh, pulling your knees up to your chest. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

For a few moments, Mikey seems to mull over everything you've just told him, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles against your shoulder all the while.

Finally, he breaks the silence. "You know what you said earlier about there being more to me than I give myself credit for?"

You give him a shaky nod.

He smiles gently at you. "I think the same could be said about you," he continues. "You know why I asked you to hang out with me tonight?"

"Why?"

"Because there's nobody in my contact list who I would rather keep me company. I want to get to know you."

"You aren't bullshitting me?"

"Not at all. You've always been so good to me and the band... Always have something nice to say... Everyone else just talks, but you..." He chuckles.

"You listen," he continues. "Sometimes I just look at you and know that you're taking it all in, y'know? That you care about other people. That you're here for us just as much as you're here for yourself." He squeezes your shoulder before pulling his hand back. "Basically, what I'm trying to say is... If you're just the merch girl, then you're the greatest merch girl alive. But I see you as a little more than that."

You're taking it all in right at this very moment. You swallow, your throat cotton-dry. All that comes out is his name. "Mikey..."

You take another moment to gather your thoughts, then clear your throat before trying again.

Somehow, you manage to meet his eyes. "Thank you," you tell him. "Really."

"Thank you." Maybe you're just high, but it feels like he's genuinely looking into your soul. This delights you just as much as it scares you.

"For what?"

"For being you."

At some point, one of you moved a little closer to the other. You don't know which one of you it was, but that doesn't really matter.

Whatever the case, both of you are inching even closer to one another now, your lips coming this close to touching.

It's no longer a matter of whether or not the feelings you have for him are mutual. It's fairly obvious that they are.

At this point, the only question is which one of you will close the distance between you.

As it would turn out, it's Mikey.

He places his hand on your cheek before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. His lips are a little rough, — chapped from the cold, — but the way that he kisses you is so soft. He's gentle, tender. You close your eyes, placing your hands on the back of his neck.

Rather than coming to an end, the kiss just keeps deepening. You let out a squeak of surprise as your back hits the hood of the van.

You swear that this all feels like a dream. You're splayed out on top of the van beneath the stars, your head fuzzy, with Mikey on top of you. You're making out with the guy you've had your eye on for months, and you're wearing his coat, and...

And he's pulling on the bottom of your shirt. Wow. Okay.

He pulls back, looking down at you tentatively. His hand still lingers at the hem of your T-shirt. "Is this okay?"

You nod before leaning in to kiss him again.

You jerk back as soon as his hand meets your skin.

Mikey gives you a look of concern, pulling his hand away. "You alright?"

"Fine. Your hands are just really cold."

"Sorry." He rubs his palms together before placing a hand on your arm. "What about now?"

You laugh. "Yeah. That's better."

"Good." His hand climbs up your shirt again, and the two of you go right back to kissing.

Before you know it, his hand is climbing under your bra. You reach up to bury your hands in his hair as his fingertips explore your skin.

He presses his entire body closer to yours, moaning into your mouth.

You feel him, hard beneath his jeans and pressing against your thigh.

In a split second, you make a decision.

You pull away, managing to pant out two words. "Hey, Mikey?"

Struggling to regulate his own breathing, he looks down at you, pupils blown wide. "Hmm?"

"If this is gonna go any further, we've gotta get in the backseat," you say. "I am not about to fuck you on top of this van."

It doesn't take him long to come up with a response to this. "Alright," he says. "Backseat, it is."

-

As soon as the two of you climb into the backseat, you're kissing again. Mikey pulls you onto his lap, tugging his coat off of you and tossing it aside. You grind your hips down against his experimentally as his tongue explores the inside of your mouth.

"Fuck," he curses quietly, pulling away from you.

You grin down at him. He gives you a shaky laugh. "C'mere," he murmurs, hands gripping your hips. "Let me see you."

His hands reach for the bottom of your shirt again, pulling it over your head.

He sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes scan over your bare skin. "Beautiful."

The way that the word falls from your lips is almost enough to make you believe it.

"And what about you?" you ask, tugging on his own shirt. He shifts, allowing you to pull it off of him.

You smile, running your hands over his chest. "You're not so bad yourself, y'know," you murmur before pressing your lips to his neck and sucking.

He throws his head back, giving you access to more of his skin. His low groan is music to your ears as your mouth travels over his skin.

"You're unreal," he says, voice high and desperate.

You pull back with a sly smile. "If that's what you think after second base, I'm curious to know what you'll have to say after you hit the homerun."

He chuckles. "Well, why don't we just find out?"

He reaches for the button of your jeans. You lift your hips after he pulls down the zipper, allowing him to tug them off.

You gasp as his hand slips down the front of your underwear.

"You're soaked already." His remark carries notes of genuine awe. "Thought I was gonna have to finger you before we could..."

You roll your hips into his hand, whimpering. "Please," you beg him. "Need you now, Mikey. Just go ahead and fuck me."

He exhales shakily. If you didn't know any better, you'd think you were driving him just as crazy as he's driving you. "Okay," he breathes. "Yeah. That can be arranged."

You reach down, undoing his own jeans as you kick your underwear away. Just before you toss them into the floor, he stops you. "Wait."

You freeze, watching as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. He reaches inside and pulls out a foil packet.

You can't look away as you watch him pull down his boxers and roll on the condom. Your breath hitches as your gaze settles on his cock.

Just as you imagined, he's big. Still, your imagination didn't quite do it justice. You can only wonder how it will feel inside of you.

Pretty soon, you won't have to wonder.

"Alright," he breathes.

You inhale shakily, lowering yourself down on him.

You moan shakily as he presses into you. You slide down slowly, relishing the feeling of him filling you up, until you finally take him all the way.

"Holy shit," you mutter before rolling your hips. Mikey groans, thrusting up into you.

You gasp, fingernails scraping down his shoulders.

The two of you move against each other, attempting to establish a tentative rhythm. As good as it feels, you soon find that your position isn't doing you any favors.

Your legs are spread awkwardly across the van's back aisle. If Mikey's arms weren't wrapped around your waist, you might go careening backwards into the floor. Every now and then, Mikey accidentally hits his head on the roof of the van, causing him to mutter a low curse under his breath before going back to what he was doing.

Finally, you speak up. "Mikey?" you ask.

He freezes underneath you with a quiet groan. "Yeah?"

"The position that we're in," you say. "I don't think that it's very... practical."

He looks down, huffing out a laugh. "You're right." He meets your eyes with a soft smile. "I've got an idea. Lay on your back."

You lift your hips, whining slightly as he slips out of you. Mikey shifts slightly as you stretch across the seat. "Like this?"

"Yeah."

He positions himself over you, arms coming to rest on either side of your head. He presses a kiss to your lips as he pushes back inside of you before pulling back. "Is this good?"

"Y-yeah. It is."

And for a while, it really is. Until he begins to fuck into you faster, causing the seatbelt fastener to dig into your back with every thrust.

"Wait, wait, wait... Ow, my back," you manage. 

Mikey stops once again. Though he's breathing even harder this time, — getting close, you know, — he gives you the same gentle look of concern. "You okay?"

"I am, but can we just..." You shift underneath him slightly. "Can we readjust a bit?"

"Of course. Lemme help you, actually." He grabs your hips, pulling you towards him. You gasp, feeling him plunge deeper inside of you.

"Better now?" he asks, forehead resting against yours.

You nod. "Much better."

With that, he picks up his pace again. Not only are you in an actually comfortable position now, but he manages to hit your G-spot with nearly every thrust.

You loop your arms around his neck, holding onto him as he speeds up. As worried as you were about the weed, you know that the van is probably rocking back and forth, and if someone caught you like this, it would probably be even worse.

You let out a soft moan as his hand slides between the two of you. He circles your clit in time with his thrusts, causing the pull between your hips to intensify quickly.

"Mikey..." you whimper.

"Feel good?" he asks.

"Uh huh," you say. "Filling me up so good, Mikey, Jesus Christ..."

He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his head dips down towards your neck. He presses a kiss there, his teeth scraping slightly over your skin before he pulls back.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs in your ear. "Didn't think I was gonna get to see you like this tonight. Do you know how long I've been thinking about this?"

Your heart beats faster at this tidbit of information. How long had it been since he first noticed you in that light? "N-no," you say. "How long?"

"Not long after I first met you," he replies. "I nearly passed out every time you so much as smiled at me. Never thought you'd give me the time of day."

You struggle to keep your composure as your breathing speeds up, your climax approaching quickly. "But here I am."

His lips brush against your collarbone. "Here you are."

The waves of pleasure begin rolling through you, threatening to take over completely.

You say his name again, a desperate cry. "Mikey. I'm gonna..."

Just as you feel yourself tightening around him, his head falls to your shoulder. He releases inside of you with a deep groan.

You close your eyes, relishing the feeling of losing control at the exact same time that he does. What are the odds?

You don't mind when Mikey pretty much collapses on top of you. The weight of his ribs pressing against yours is comforting, in a way. A reminder that this is all real.

"Wow," he murmurs. "That was... You were..."

You brush a kiss across his jaw. "Unreal?"

He gives a raspy laugh. "Yeah. That sounds about right."

Your lips meet one more time before he pulls out. "We should probably get dressed before the others get back," he says.

"Probably," you agree. Though there's a part of you that longs to lay in his arms a little longer and soak up the moment, you tell yourself to be realistic.

Still, you feel a surge of hope when he asks you: "Wanna do that again sometimes?"

"Sure," you reply quickly, pulling your jeans back on. "When?"

He pauses to think for a moment. "How about after the next show?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Great."

You know the way that this will go if you keep doing this. You know that isn't a smart idea. You're halfway to falling for him already. You'll want more in no time.

Still, when he leans over to kiss your cheek, only to hit his head on the roof and huff out what must be his hundredth 'fuck' of the night, you decide that this is more than enough for now.

-

Taglist (Ask to be included!): @mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @yachiiko