#head the tags and warnings

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)

[mildeleef]

i got bored

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[statementlives]

chester and norris potentially communicating through case files will be the death of me i fear.

[cutter-kirby]

come on simon

[blue-cyber-dreams]

Baby I'm Yours

Reformed!Megatron x human!reader

I think reader is GN? Def racially ambiguous

It's kinda left up to the reader what version of Megatron this is, but I was thinking of/inspired by @revelboo's version of MTMTE/Lost Light's Megatron 🩷

SFW and fluffy with bits of angst

-----------------------------------------------

You swayed slowly as you hummed an old tune, right arm stretched out with your hand clasped in Megatron's left servo, his other gently resting on your ribcage.

While sitting on his desk, you had been humming a song to yourself and gently moving to the beat, when he asked about human dancing. So after he mass-shifted, you had introduced him to the simplest form of human dancing you knew. You guided him in how to place his hands and encouraged him to relax enough to move with the music. The dance style was intimate, but you tried to maintain some distance between your bodies, if only for the sake of your nerves. Now you were alternating between humming and softly singing lyrics to that sweet song you remembered from Earth as you rocked from side to side.

"...And I'll be yours, 'til the mountains crumble to the sea..." the words fell from your mouth as you stepped away to twirl, right hand still in his, only to return to his hold.

You looked up to offer a small smile, hoping this was entertaining the mech. He was already looking at you, a wistful expression on his face.

"You humans have much more complex optics when viewed up close," he said lowly.

You tipped your head to the side and smiled. "We call them 'eyes,'" you responded, playfulness dappling your tone.

You continued to hum before he spoke again. "Your eyes look deep, like I could leap inside. They seem like portals to another world."

You stilled at his words, and he leaned closer to you. The eye contact and proximity made it hard for you to breathe and you became aware of a whole new level of intimacy.

Then, he looked down. At your lips? Surely not. But then he released your hand and brought the servo which had been holding it to your side, and he inched closer. And closer...

You realised you were unconsciously leaning in as well. Then eyes and optics both fluttered shut as lips and dermas met softly.

His servos and arms moved to encircle you, drifting slightly lower, and his grip became firmer. For a moment, all your thoughts halted, and your palms rested on the metal of his chest.

Then, you became catastrophically self-aware again. With a spark of panic, you broke off the kiss to hide your face against his chest.

His hold on you loosened, as if to allow you room to escape, but you didn't want to move away. His embrace felt safe and soothing; you just needed to pause for a moment.

"Little one?" he murmured, a hint of concern in his tone.

You felt embarrassed. You had pulled away without thinking, and you felt you definitely owed him an explanation.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," you said softly into his chest plates. You decided to just be out with it.

"I've never done that before." And if you didn't before, you definitely felt a wave of heat at your face now.

His tone was mild. "What? Kissed someone?"

You pulled away slightly to look up at the big mech. You were met with optics which held a flicker of... Uncertainty?

You averted your eyes before responding. "No, I haven't..." you said, fingers fidgeting with the edges of his armor plating to relieve the akwardness you felt.

His servos shifted up, now loosely resting near you shoulder blades, higher than they had been even during the slow dancing. You looked back up to see a whisper of pain and sadness on his face.

"You are too innocent for me," he murmured.

"I'm not that innocent!" A note of incredulity slipped into your voice.

He looked down at you again. His response came out smoothly at first, then slipped into a near-growl by the end.

"I mean no offense. But you do not know who I am, or what I've done."

"I know what I've seen. I know my own experiences. You saved my life!"

You had been abducted from Earth by another Cybertronian, and kept as a pet. Or a plaything, more like. They had no idea how to care for you and clearly took you on a whim, just wanting a defenseless creature to mess with. Megatron had found you by chance. "Humans are not fit to be kept as pets. They are intelligent, sentient," he had growled to your inept keeper. You hadn't been sure why at the time, but they had clearly regarded him with fear and intimidation, so they easily handed you over when he extended his servo to take you. You remembered what he had said when he departed from them. "Do not worry, little one. You are safe now." And you were.

You brought your mind back to the present, and Megatron's brow was furrowed, his optics screwed shut. A low sigh escaped him.

"They may not have taken you if I had not encouraged disdain for organic life in my followers."

"But it was still their choice. And you're different now," you responded firmly.

You continued in a softer tone. "You are always kind to me, and gentle." His optics opened again slowly.

"I do not deserve you," he murmured, voice rumbling.

You pursed your lips. "That word - 'deserve' - I don't like it. It's so subjective."

He looked at you intently, like he was trying to understand, so you went on.

"By some philosophical metrics, none of us deserve anything good that happens to us." You reached up to stroke the bridge of his nose, and despite his previous protests, he shuttered his optics and slightly leaned down into your touch.

"I prefer to aim for maximising the good things in the universe. Sometimes, or even often, that means pursuing justice, and trying to determine just what it is that someone deserves... But not always."

Your finger came down from his nose and traced his dermas, and they parted when you made contact with them. His optics opened again and met your eyes.

"You are far too compassionate towards me," he rumbled.

"I'm just a big believer in people having the capacity to change. It doesn't always happen, but I admire it when it does. It takes more strength to admit you were wrong and change course than it does to have the correct course from the beginning."

Megatron took your hand in his servo and pressed a kiss to it.

"Could I be allowed this?" He seemed to be asking no one at all, and yet also the entire universe. Any being who might be listening, or perhaps the eternal sparks and souls of those whose deaths he had brought about.

You reached to pull him down for another kiss. "That's up to me. And I say yes."

[kyuhu]

love is in the air or maybe not idk

[magicgirlboss]

hello i hate this show so much you have no idea i need to kill someone to calm down i am hyperventilating i dont even give a fuck anymore actually jesus christ i need john silver dead i need him alive forever i need to puke

[prisma-palace]

Today I found out that Heart and Mind are canon. Yeah.

Anyways my new design of Mind

happy april fools! this is the worst thing ive ever drawn and i seriously dont even recognize it as my own art.

referencing This

[babacontainsmultitudes]

AH. So that's why they put that content warning. I see!

[room-of-lies]

Bloom

[itslilacokay]

believe it or not, normalswap?avm

(check some lorestuff in tags)

now back to main cast

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

am i a robot or a doll? am i anything at all? maybe a soul like me doesn't even need to know

[creekfiend]

incredible article that really captures how I've been feeling about participating in Jewish spaces in the last couple of years. extremely tough read. not rebloggable because I'm not interested in anyone arguing with me about this, lol. we are not allowed to kill people I know this for sure.

I think that it is written from the perspective of a Jewish objector and if that's you you will find it especially meaningful and in some ways reassuring because it's hard not to feel alone when surrounded by people who are constantly excusing Israel's actions. but I think that gentiles would also find meaning in it probably. happy Hanukkah! 🫠

[bearimba]

Silver doesn't need another father. He's already got one of those, technically, but the man turned out to be a weak, cowardly bastard who couldn't face his own problems let alone raise a child. The way he sees it, there's no need to set himself for more disappointment. He's got a roof over his head and food to eat, and that's far more than he could ever depend on in the last... however many years he'd been living on the streets. Lance and Clair are annoying as hell, but while he's training in the Dragon Den, he doesn't exactly have much room to complain. Not out loud, anyways.

Lance doesn't particularly want to be a dad either. He's already got too much responsibility on his plate as Champion, and this kid clearly needs so much more emotional support than he feels like he can provide. Simply convincing him to move into his guest room was enough of a struggle, and it only really worked because Lance had promised Silver he could "earn" his keep. What the hell is up with that, anyways? He's not sure what Silver's past looks like, and he's not about to go prying, but the bare minimum he can do is make sure he doesn't have to rough it out in the woods anymore. At least Clair seems to be having fun training him...

Clair is more than ready to be an aunt. The other two refuse to admit to caring for each other, but unlike them, she's not afraid of something as stupid as her emotions. The brat's slowly but surely been mellowing out during his training, and her idiot cousin has actually been taking care of himself for once in order to be a "good example." Silver has even caught on to calling Lance "old man" like she does, on account of those ugly-ass reading glasses the all-mighty Champion has to wear, and she couldn't be prouder. Best part is, she doesn't have to spend a dime except to treat the kid every so often! That's a win in her book if ever there was one.

[libr-0-cubicularist]

hey, hey. you. mhm. you. This is your sign to go read Stories We Share, Secrets We Keep by @bittirsweeteer