#i wonder how many of them are older than all life on earth

[transingthoseformers]

Soooooo if we're rolling with the six orn number (which is probably wrong), so far this fic has covered the span of equivalent to a little over a week and a half! Which i mean even in human terms the amount of work Optimus has done in such a short amount of time is insane. But for million year old robots (especially in this fic, where the lifespans and timelines are wayyyyyy longer than I usually expect in fics and in canon)? It's basically no time at all

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[ang3lik]

spider with a girl that grew up with him start noticing that they have feelings for each other just really sweet fluffy smut pls

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ HOME IS A PERSON.

avatar masterlist. spider socorro x fem!human!reader.

warnings. vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), grinding, handjobs, fingering, slight edging, mentions of mating (na’vi) and mentions of death.

a/n: exopacks are not a thing for this fic, just pretend humans can breathe on pandora. this was a lot and is kind of long but i love it. if you’d like to be added to any taglist you can send an ask or dm !! enjoy ! (i haven’t proof read this so if there’s any typos or warnings missing, just let me know, sorry !)

spider had always been fascinated by the na’vi. pandora itself as he explored the wonders of life each day. but he never felt exactly at home. he saw the way neytiri judged him from afar, he understood your reasoning as his own kind destroyed your home.

but he just wanted a family, a family to feel like home. his relationship with jake was quite comforting, very much like a father figure to him. spider felt as if they had an understanding of each other in sorts.

when jake would tell stories of earth at night around a warm fire, he would be so intrigued. jake saw the way spider would listen more intently than his children, the comforted but excited gleam in his eyes, guilting him slightly.

even though jake’s stories fascinated him, he didn’t think he’d ever want to leave pandora though. his relationship with the sully brothers was just the same.

they both saw him as a brother and spider the same. neteyam was very protective of his family, spider included, he knew how much trouble lo’ak and spider would get into and would scold them both equally.

neteyam taught him many ways of the omaticaya clan, he taught spider to train, his body gaining muscle and building strength. he also taught him to shoot arrows with a bow.

they would often also tussle, neteyam a lot gentler considering his height, but he must admit he thought spider was strong for his kind, fearless too just like a warrior.

lo’ak loved spider. he loved to explore his home just as much as spider did. however the two were quite this mischievous pair. often receiving scoldings from his older brother and father.

they hung out a lot. running around like children all the time. they’d do anything for each other, just like brothers. his relationships with kiri and tuk were both adorable.

he was very protective of the girls, he knew as sisters. just like neteyam and lo’ak, he protected kiri when boys would talk to her. he always kept a watchful eye on both sisters as he knew kiri loved to explore and tuk would never be far behind her.

but his relationship with you however, was way more special. you both grew up together, playing as babies, growing into toddlers and changing into teenagers.

but no matter your age, you only grew closer. he knew his mother had died shortly after his birth, just like yours had died during your birth. you both kept pictures of your mothers, sticking them above your beds and making up stories at night at what you’d think they be like.

the way he talked and interacted with you was way different to any of the relationships he’d had. however around the age of 13 he started to develop a nervous feeling around you.

spider always thought you were beautiful, but one day you looked prettier, if that was possible. each day from then you only got prettier. now at the age of 18, you were the most beautiful human being he’d ever had the pleasure of being able to look at, the fact that he got to even touch you, hug you, hold your hand, kiss you still was unrealistic to him.

you always knew you’d had feelings for spider from a younger age. much like spider it did happen just one day, where you looked at him different.

you were making dinner with norm, spider stood next to you as he cut vegetables too. you’d just gotten back from hanging with the sully kids again.

however, spider was off with neteyam training with him and lo’ak, as you helped kiri collect some substances from plants for her tsahìk training. your eyes gravitated to his calloused hands, holding the sharp knife, his veins slightly bulging out.

they travelled upwards along his forearm to his biceps as they strained, his muscles had grown. his body was covered in a light sheen of sweat as all the running and laughing you had done on the way home had tired him.

you’d catch yourself looking at his lean torso sometimes too, your mouth watering just a little as you thought about touching his body just a little.

he’d catch you at times too, his body heating up under your gaze. eventually, the lingering gazes, touches, thoughts had proved enough for you both.

when you were both 16, under the stars one night you had laid closer staring into each others eyes as they both sparkled in delight. he had shocked you with his confidence as he leaned closer, looking down at your lips, his nerves quietly eating away at him as your hearts heated faster in tandem as your lips connected lightly.

he pressed soft pecks to your lips, experimentally. testing the waters as each kiss grew longer. eventually you broke apart, breathing heavier as rosy blushes set into both your cheeks as you giggled slightly.

from then on you and spider had been “together”, never really making it official, he just knew he was yours and you his. small make out sessions, turned into light grazing touches along each others skin, and the make out locations changed. from the forest at night to in your bed.

you and spider didn’t share a room but it wasn’t usually for you to sleep in each others beds. you had both done it for comfort starting at a very young age, so norm never suspected a thing.

the kisses grew hotter and faster though as you’d explored each other. you’d never had sex however. always stopping when your hips would jolt up or his hips would grind down into yours.

however as you both grew so did the sully boys. everyone now knew that you and spider were together. sharing small pecks around the family and it came to no surprise that they didn’t bat an eye either.

of course, kiri had pulled you away as did the boys to spider, kiri squealing on delight as you told her the new development. the boys were also very happy for spider and you.

congratulating their brother on getting over his nerves and confessing to you his feelings. it wasn’t long until neteyam also found his mate, mä'reyna and lo’ak found his too, äìset.

it was quite normal for the boys to bring their problems to each other, confiding into each other for advice. they shared experiences. no problem was too embarrassing or complicated and they figured it out together.

but after neteyam had told his brothers that he had officially completed his mating with mä'reyna, he had felt eager to try more with you. neither of you had ever minded or were scared to go further you just thought it should be something special, just like the na’vi.

after lo’ak had told him of his mating with äìset too, he knew he had to create the perfect setting to decide he wanted to touch you again. as it began to get late he found you with kiri, “it’s getting late, i think norm would want us back.”

you were confused as it was only eclipse, usually you could stay for a while longer but you didn’t question him so you said your goodbyes, hugging kiri goodnight before following him.

you were looking down at the floor as spider led you home, but you looked up in shock as you bumped into his chest. you looked around, this wasn’t home, it was higher up in the forest, ‘the lookout’ everyone called it, a safe spot high in the forest above the hills, a spot through the trees where the stars shine down into a wide path of grass.

spider led you to sit down in the middle. His body collapsing down next to you. the air was warm, the sky getting darker, little noises of animals around you croaked.

his hefty arm crept around your shoulders pulling you into him gently. you laid back looking up at the sky, your head on his chest, hearing the thump of his heartbeat which oddly grew faster by the second.

you tilted your head up at him to ask what was wrong, but before you could get a word out, he spoke, “i love you.”

you smiled at his words, before he continued, “but, I want you even more.” you sat up, leaning over his body a little, your hair framing his face as you looked down at him.

“what do you mean?” you asked.

“i love it when we kiss, when we’re alone together always…” he grabbed your hand gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “but i want to do more.”

he signed out heavily, feeling a little more relaxed as he hit his feelings of his chest. his eyebrows rose slightly in surprise as you let out a light laugh.

“why didn’t you just say? are you ready for that?” you asked him.

“i am,” he answered. “i just thought maybe you weren’t yet ready so i held off.” you both snickered at each others responses as you continued to look into his eyes.

if he wanted something you’d always try your best to give it to him and if he wanted you, who were you to complain? you leaned down connecting your lips to his slightly as his hands went straight to your hair.

softly running his fingers through your locks as he groaned and sighed in pleasure. he loved kissing you. probably too much. but just the feeling of you so close to him, your lips on his moving together was the best feeling he’d ever felt.

he wasted no time in turning you over. his hands caging you in on the green grass, his dreads hanging over your face. he moved to your neck, sucking light hickies into your skin.

this was perfect, exactly how you’d imagined it. under the stars in the peace and quiet, warm and comfortable with the boy you loved. he got bolder, kissing down onto your chest.

you guys wore human clothes at times, especially in colder seasons. things like sweatpants, shirts, shorts. but spider preferred his own loincloth to anything.

but he still thought you looked beautiful in your loincloth and a shirt. he pushed your shirt up, raising your arms up so he could pull it off, throwing it to the side.

his lip’s immediately gravitated towards your nipple, sucking lightly as you let out a small moan. you felt him smile at your sounds against your chest.

your hands left gripping the grass, raising to his shoulders as you gripped his shoulders. he moved fast and eager, kissing down your navel, his tongue peeking out lightly to leave a cold trail on your stomach.

as he got closer to your clothed centre, goosebumps raised on your skin, you arched up into his touch. he came back up to your face, kissing you heavily again.

god he felt so good and he made you feel so good, without barely touching you. you spread your legs slightly, letting him kneel between them as his hips pushed down onto yours.

you could feel his cock harden through his loincloth as a wet spot grew on yours. your hands trailed down his sides before untying the sides of his loincloth, pushing it down his thighs, as you still kissed him fast.

you felt him up as you grabbed his length lightly, moving your hand up and down slowly, gripping the base tighter on the way down. he broke the kiss, looking down and watching your hand jack him off slowly and he breathed heavily.

leaning up on his left elbow, he lives his own hand down to the centre of your loincloth, looking to your face for confirmation. you nodded quickly at him before he moved the length your loincloth to the side, trailing his thumb over your clothed centre.

his thumb pressed down above your clit as he circled it, the friction of them cloth rubbing against you, making you moan loudly. he couldn’t wait any longer, the noises you made and your palm still gripping his length that hardened even more became painful.

he rose up on his knees, leaning back on his ankles as he untied your loincloth, pulling it off and throwing it again. he pushed your thighs further apart as he moved closer his fingers coming back down on your clit as he circled it quickly.

he watched the way you squirmed beneath him, soaked and leaking more witness from under his fingers, he covered his middle and pointer finger in your slick as he gently pressed around your hole, dipping one of his fingers in up to the first knuckle, checking your face for any signs of pain.

you didn’t wince and your face didn’t express any pain, you only tightened around him wanting more as he pushed it all the way in slowly. you only made a small gasping noise, one of newfound pleasure, as he thrusted his disgust in and out slowly.

you clenched again as he pumped faster, your noises growing louder as his pushed his middle finger in alongside his pointer. you winced a small bit as his fingers immediately stopped, but you looked at him, giving him a small smiles, “it’s okay, i’m fine,” you managed to speak out.

he started to pump his fingers again faster and deeper as you got wetter and louder. his cock grew red and painful, precum sliding out of his tip as his body heated up.

your body grew hotter, tingling in all the right places, about to cum, before he stopped. you opened your eyes in confusion and annoyance before you could see him, holding his cock and sliding it through your folds, up and down your slit, he leaned down, kissing you sweetly.

“sorry, i couldn’t wait,” he said, sheepishly.

“you promise to tell me if it hurts?” this is why you loved him, because even in such an exciting moment his first and only priority was your safety. you lifted your head kissing him again before saying, “of course.”

he nodded, processing everything that was happening before slowly sliding into you. a long, hefty groan left his lips, as he felt the warmth of your cunt, tight and wet around him.

your moans were singing in his ear as he filled you up. he attempted shallow, gentle thrusts at first, but his hips lost control as you begged him to fuck you faster.

you moved your thighs to sit atop his hips the new angle allowing his cock to push in deeper, hitting that spongy spot deep inside you. every time he pushed in, the tip of his cock grazed it, edging you closer to your orgasm.

you felt heavenly and your orgasms crept up once again, fast, as you tried to tell him. small screams and moans leaving your mouth. he was moaning too.

deep and loud, as his cock twitched, the feeling of so much pleasure all at once overwhelming him. you came around his cock, clenching around him, shaking slightly underneath him as your eyes rolled back.

he came fast, spilling inside you, his body hot, all his limbs trembling, trying to keep himself up. you breathed out opening your eyes, watching him still thrusting, riding out his high.

he slowed, collapsing down on top of you and rolling to the side. as you lay together, his hand gripped yours. you imagined this was the first of many firsts you’d share together, because you could never feel it with anyone else.

as he lay next to you, a new warmth spread through his chest, not just one of love, one of belonging. a feeling of home, as he realized hime didn’t have to be a place, home was a person and you were his home.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @astarborntowrite @liyahsocorro @gr4veyardg1rl

[kneelingshadowsalome]

absolutely head over heels for the double trouble au- which raises a question for me

what if reader ended up with a double as well? how would colonel and recruit even handle two wifeys especially if she was also pretty different in her youth? how weird would recruit be once he figures out who the double actually is? after all, she isnt cuffed to the colonel :)

Again, not sure if you’re the same brain behind the recent double trouble reblog, but I have so many thoughts about this…!! (Sorry you had to wait!)

First of all, young reader being a little different is an established fact. Perhaps she’s inexperienced, perhaps a little shy, she’s bound to be more timid than her double, having not met Colonel König and therefore, married to him yet.

Young recruit is absolutely smitten with the new uncuffed doe. He gets a plaything all to himself? Sweet!! Can he fuck her already? (Now don’t take this the wrong way: he’s head over heels in love. She’s perfect. He needs to have her. When’s the wedding? He'll invite the Colonel too, please just let him marry this girl. Please, he'll be a good dog, please...)

Older reader tries to soothe her younger double’s nerves. Yes, young recruit can be a bit of a handful but he has a heart of gold under there... somewhere. And he has waited his whole life to meet you! Trust them when they say that you’re a match made in heaven ^^

Meanwhile, young reader looks very troubled when she sees this vile young man licking his lips in the corner. This crazy dude is not supposed to be allowed around women at all... Wait–does he have an erection??

Colonel König is the only one she can actually trust. He has that calming, commanding presence, and he simply feels so safe somehow... It’s quite unbelievable that they are practically the same person with the young bloodhound, currently shaking from lust on the bench :/

(I’m so sorry for making this a crazy soap opera but) She’s bound to have a tiny crush on Colonel at some point. It’s awful: she didn’t mean this to happen, pinky promise! He’s WAY too old for her, and already married to her double. This man is off-limits. She’s supposed to go on a date with young recruit!

But isn’t the Colonel just so… manly? Attentive? Kind? No wonder she ended up marrying him…

Colonel is secretly losing his mind over the young double too. He’s very pleased to see she has taken a liking to him, now what kind of a man wouldn’t? Of course he’s forever faithful to his darling wife, no question about that. His angel is the most celestial, perfect being on this earth. Practically just the older version of the same woman… Older version, who's still too young for an old hound like him… For God's sake, it's not his fault that sweet young women swoon when they see him...! Ach Scheisse, what has he gotten himself into...

[tinydefector]

IRON GIANT

Optimus x human

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: death of an animal.

Saw some of the skybound comics and had to write this because the parallel between optimus and the Iron Giant is too good not to use. So this is based on this comic panel. This may become a series if people enjoy it alot.

Enjoy the Dadimus agender

Also I use Par as a gender neutral term for Parent, but pronounced as Pa.

11

111

___________________

Optimus sighed as he finished digging the small grave, optics dimming as he gently picked up the delicate creature and nestled it into the soft earth. He had never wished harm, had faltered in these alien woods, ending a life that had merely sought to flee his unfamiliar form.

Kneeling, he carefully began restoring the soil, patting it smooth as if to apologise with each motion for the accident his bulk had caused. They hadn't suffered small blessings, at least. When at last the mound was shaped, he sat back on powerful haunches, gazing at it pensively. How many graves, both great and small, had he been forced to dig through eons defending his kind - and yet each still marked loss, whether of one or many. 

After a moment, massive fingers reached to dig up several wildflowers, arranging them with utmost care atop the fresh earth. A simple marker for one whose brief journey had crossed paths with a warrior never meant for such quiet spaces. But perhaps their essence would nourish new growth, 

Venting softly, Optimus sat beside the grave, he felt guilty, it was a chance accident, one which had hurt his spark. The sound of the forest doesn't ease his aching spark even in the bright sunlight. The birds sing and the wind rushes the leaves as if to make a song. Earth was much more lively than Cybertron ever was. Birds flutter around picking at the ground and even landing on his form as if to inspect the metal. Optimus stilled as small avians flitted unafraid about his massive frame, their delicate peeps and chirps surrounding him in a melody utterly alien yet soothing in its liveliness. optics dimming partially as if to seem less a looming threat to these curious creatures. 

After a moment, one landed upon an outstretched digit, tilting its feathered head as it studied the bright red and blue plating so unlike any perches it knew. Another joined, then more, exploring seams and transformation seem as if puzzling over this odd visitor to their domain. His spark, heavy with ages of loss, eased slightly at their curiosity. On Cybertron, all life had long fled the ravages of war - these woods teemed with it at every turn, in every trill and rustle. Their sounds wove a music this weary warrior had never known, helping him glimpse what peace might one orn bless his ancient world again.

A faint, sad smile touched Optimus 's stoic face as small wings took flight once more. Perhaps in these forests, he might find solace for his burdened spark and among these trees, he began to comprehend Earth's beauty and fragility anew.

noise in the distance spooks the birds. But Optimus doesn't move from The grave of the Doe, the noises become louder, it's small laughter echoing just off in the trees. "Baby please don't run off!" A voice calls out. Optimus froze as small steps neared the clearing, optics widening fractionally at the curious sight of tiny organics emerging where wildlife had fled moments before.

 A little child walks out into the field where Optimus sits. "Look, look Robot!" The small child calls out to their parent. Their parent is quick to grab them, hauling them up into their arms as they stare at Optimus. The child with excitement and wonder and the parent with fear. Both the older human and Optimus have a stare off neither willing to move less they spook the other. He realised, judging by similarities of form and mannerism in how they clung and shielded one another, that the larger one was the smaller creator. 

Slowly, carefully, he lowered a hand beside him upon the grass, Emitting a low, soothing rumble, cogs and gears slowly creaking as he ventilated slowly, His thoughts reached to memories of younglings in Iacon.

The younger one smiles widely and waves "hiya Robot!" They call out which makes their parent stiffen in worry. "Baby shh" they try to move backwards slowly only for their child to call out again. " But Par, robot!, like Iron Giant! From the movie, big robot! " Their child state excited. It makes Optimus chuckle lightly. "Hiya Iron Giant!" The child calls out without fear. Wrangling themself out of their parents arms. "Baby stop" they state to their child. 

Optimus himself is still quiet as he watches the child walk up to him fearlessly

Optimus could not help but vent a soft laugh at the comparison from the sparkling, a gentle puff of air that set grass and leaves dancing around them. The naive curiosity and wonder from their tiny frame spoke of no fear.

Slowly, carefully he extended a digit for the young one to grasp, wishing to show only gentleness as small hands patted over plating smooth and cool rather than textured flesh. His field pulsed calming waves as he met their bold gaze, watching tiny mouth spread in a fearless grin. At last, he rumbled in the softest volume, "hello little one." 

Optics flicked respectfully to the elder, The older human watches in worry as they freeze on the spot watching their child. The little human looks up at Optimus as they hold up their plushy. "This is Mimi! My stuffy, par made her for me, they make me a lot of things. Oh you talk too! I really like your red and blue is really pretty! Do you like rocks? I like rocks" They state as they start talking away to Optimus without a care in the world. Their parent slowly move to the ground, eyes darting and watching the large bot.

Optimus listened intently, optics softened in pleasure at the youngling's chatter and display of their favoured toy. 

"Mimi is most charming indeed," he rumbled gently in response, spark warming though his frame showed no smile. Lifting his optics once more, he dipped his head respectfully to the elder still keeping close watch. 

"You have raised a marvellous spark," he said softly to them, processors mindful of putting alien species at ease through tone, hoping honesty and calm might quell reasonable fear. "I mean your offspring no harm I swear it on my spark." he focused once more on the babbling child, granting gentle puffs of air in response to questions too swift for speech.

The older human's eyes linger on their child before flickering to bright blue optics of the large bot. " They give me a scare often when they wander off." They state as they sit and watch the large bot gently interact with their child.  "What... what are you?" They asked, they know that if it wanted to hurt them it would have done so by now but they are still cautious of the large robot. "Par He's a robot, silly!" The little human calls out with giggles.

"Indeed I am a robot," rumbled Optimus gently with a faint vibration of amusement. His optics crinkled slightly at the young one's matter-of-fact pronouncement. Turning back to their elder, his field radiated openness and trust as he answered their question with utmost care. "My name is Optimus. I was created on the planet Cybertron.” Plating shifted in a subconscious shrug. "My only wish is peaceful coexistence. I mean you and yours no harm."

The little human giggles and spins around. "Told you Par! Space Robot!" They state proudly.

optics softened as he regarded them both. "I am glad this young one remains unafraid to explore life's wonders." His tone held enduring patience. Their parent's eyes linger on the disturbed ground which had a patch of flowered grass on it. "What happened?" They ask cautiously. Optimus followed their gaze and intake a soft vent, optics dimming slightly at the memory. "Earlier I came upon this clearing, and in my haste took an innocent life by accident. A young forest dweller, unaware of my heaviness, that fled at my approach." 

Placing a gentle digit beside the flowers, he said evenly, "As all life is sacred, I took care in giving it rest, and sought to memorialise its short journey through this place.” Turning optics pained with regret, he met their gaze steadily and continued in a low rumble. 

The older ones' eyes soften lightly. They stand up and move closer. " Baby, do you mind playing over there for a second par needs to look at something," they call to their child who nods and skips off a little. The older human looks over the grave to Make sure it was deep enough to hide the deer. 

They look up at Optimus. They stand just a few steps away from him watching his expressions. "You really are like the Iron Giant, I'm sorry, it's never easy hurting an animal, it didn't suffer?" They ask softly. Optimus  blinked slowly at the question, then dipped his head in gentle affirmation and thanks for understanding shown.  he rumbled softly in response. "And no, the creature did not suffer - its journey was swift. Still I regret hastiness that cut a natural span abruptly short. But I accept also my strengths and flaws, as all beings must."

They sit down beside the large bot as their eyes watch their child play in the flowers with the butterflies. "Par, Look look Butterflies!" The little one shouts in excitement as one lands on their nose. "I'm sorry you stepped on the deer, it's horrible when you accidentally kill an animal. Thank you for burying it, it may not mean much but thank you, I don't think I would have been able to handle it if they had seen the deer like that" they state softly.

Optimus 's optics softened as he watched the youngling's innocent delight, spark warming within his frame. He pulsed a gentle field of gratitude to their elder beside him. 

"You need not apologise," he rumbled gently. "All beings strive as best they can, and errors do not diminish intent." Turning down to meet their gaze, he continued solemnly, "I am glad sparing them that sight has helped ease another incident, however slightly. Protecting innocence is important."

A faint smile warmed his stoic face as small pedes danced among blooms. "They are a joyful little spark." His field swirled sincerity. They slowly look up at him. "Are you alright?" They ask, it was the first time in a very long time that he had been asked how he felt. It makes him realise that he wasn't alright. 

He hadn't been alright for a long time. It felt strange for such a small creature to be asking him that. Optimus blinked, caught off guard by the simple question and sincere concern shining in organic eyes gazing at him. When was the last time anyone had inquired after his wellbeing? Long forgotten were those orn...

He shifted slightly, optics dimming as memory files flooded his processor - friends fallen, a world dissolved to cinders while he could only watch. His people scattered to the stars if lucky; slain without mercy if not. For so long his every function had been duty - to lead, guard, rebuild against impossible odds. But what remained of Optimus beneath it all? 

Slowly releasing a long vent, he admitted softly, "No, not truly. The burdens of many vorns sit heavy. But watching life thrive here gives solace," he gestured to the playing sparkling with a faint flicker of affection. His gaze met theirs openly. His field pulsed gratitude too deep for mere words. In such simple moments, perhaps broken things long shattered might slowly, carefully be glued back together.

_________

Taglist: @angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

[lets-try-some-writing]

I had an ANGSTY idea

I imagine a scene where it's just a normal day at the base where the children are just hanging out and talking with their guardians (optimus and ratchet are over seeing decepticon activity)

somehow the topic of how long humans lives are comes up. The kids are oblivious to what they just revealed to the bots and seconds after this fact is shared all the bots freeze with realization and horror dawns on them.

Now whenever the bots are with the kids they act more happier and more willing to do what the kids want (and alot more protective) but under the facade is nothing but depression and sadness (the kids still oblivious)

Oh and optimus has a breakdown since he sees them as his own sparklings

Angst my old friend. I love this concept.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

It was not exactly a secret when it came to the short lives of organics compared to Cybertronians. The team were well aware that most organics tended to only live as long as a few centuries at best and possibly a millennia or two with technological adaptations. For them the lives of organics were still but a passing wind, but at least with a few centuries there was time for Cybertronians to grow close to their organic comrades. The team had each met other organics before and during the war, they knew how the organics near Cybertron worked for the most part. Thus they were not particularly concerned with the humans, although they did wonder why they grew so quickly and seemed to deteriorate with such swiftness when they had centuries left ahead of them.

The team largely did not think too much on the biological functioning of the humans and instead focused on their work. Despite that, eventually one particular Prime found himself uncertain.

Optimus found it particularly confusing how humans seemed to die so young all the time. In his free time he took joy in reading documents from Earth and learning their history. It seemed all of Earth's influential people died young. Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, Plato, Socrates, Sun Tzu, George Washington, and so many other influential figures, all dead before their second century of life. It concerned the Prime greatly, especially upon noting how involved the children, June, and Fowler were becoming in their activities. If there was some sort of genetic issue or other ailment that killed off those with influence, he needed to know immediately.

He brought his concerns to Ratchet who in turn gathered the attention of the team. This concern quickly spread and so as one unit the team researched human lives and reasons for offlinement. Before too long they came to the startling conclusion that almost every recorded human life ended when the human in question was around a century old. Some older religious and mythological records indicated that once upon a time humanity could indeed live for centuries, but that seemed to no longer be the case. Seeing this, fear for their charges wormed its way into the sparks of the team. Why were the humans dying so young? What happened to humanity to shorten their lives so drastically? Were their young charges doomed to die in the same manner?

Those questions haunted the team and in the end they decided to simply ask the children to see if there was some form of cultural misunderstanding causing them distress. The children were of course a little confused and it ended up being June who had to explain as the team huddled around, eager to understand and see if there was any way to stop the impending deaths of their wards.

Optimus: I have studied your history and it seems in the last few millennia humanity has failed to live longer than a century at most. Why is that?

June: We only live so long Optimus. We aren't big metal aliens from space like you.

Ratchet: That is true, but we have met organics before. Those that interacted with Cybertron before the war generally lived at least two centuries.

June: I-

Bulkhead: Is there some sort of illness killing you off?

Arcee: Maybe a conspiracy? I've heard of some organic civilizations killing off the older members of their population.

Bumblebee: *Is someone hurting you? We will stop them in that case!*

Optimus: Bumblebee is correct. If your race is under threat, we will gladly assist in stopping the needless death.

June: What? No. What you read are old myths, stories made up by humanity during various ages. They aren't real, we don't live much longer than a century and we never have.

Ratchet: What? But your historical records-!

June: Stories Ratchet. Just stories. Humans usually live around ninety years before we die. That is just the way of things.

Bulkhead: Then the kids-

June: Just like every human before them, they will grow old, and then when their time is up, they will die.

Not a word was uttered at the team slowly scattered, each considering what had been revealed to them. Suddenly a great deal had changed, and not a spark could change things.

Arcee had lost plenty of partners over her long life, but a human? And to old age of all things? She was terrified of that end. She would have to watch as he deteriorated and his frame failed him. How could she look at Jack and not imagine the way his skin would gain wrinkles and how his youthful energy would fade away into the bone deep weariness she observed in the elder humans she noted from a distance. A century was not long, it was hardly the Cybertronian equivalent of a year. Her boy was going to perish before she knew it, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. Tears were useless, and yet in the quiet of her quarters she wept until she steeled herself. She would give her boy all the affection and care she could over his lifetime, and hopefully in doing so, she could ease the ache of loss that was to come.

Bulkhead was left not as grieved and more saddened above all else. It was easier for him to handle the concept of youthful deaths in organics due to his long service with the wreckers and their allies. He was not upset at Miko dying long before him. No, what saddened him was that she would never have the chance to be a wrecker on a restored Cybertron. By the time their world was restored and things put into motion, he small body would have deteriorated enough to make being a wrecker near impossible for her, at least if she wished to be active. That chance was going to be denied to her because of her fleshy frame, and that above all else had him offering as much opportunity to let her be a wrecker as possible. She would not see the height of Cybertronian military and rescue efforts, but she would have a taste of it, that was his promise.

Bumblebee for his part panicked. He knew organics didn't live long, but he had not expected Rafael's life to come to an end so soon. If Rafael lived according to human standards, he would be dead before Bumblebee's next forging day. He had grown to care deeply for the child, and so while he was no fool and well used to death and the concept of it, his spark still panged with loss. Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself into spending time with Rafael as much as he could outside of patrols and battles. If his friend was going to die so soon, Bumblebee was going to try and be there as a comfort for as long as possible. He tried not to think about the fact that his human companion would perish and silenced any discussion of it when he could. He knew Rafael and every other living being would die eventually, he saw death, he was well acquainted with it, and yet still he was not fond of inviting it by considering it too deeply.

Ratchet was neither particularly shocked or upset, but he was somewhat saddened as he looked over June and the children. He was old, very old. He had been around far longer than even Optimus. Death was not a stranger to him, and he merely found himself nodding along when June spoke the truth. There was nothing to be done and he doubted the children would care for augmentations to extend their lives when all their peers would perish long before they would in that situation. He merely sighed and came to be more gentle with the children. They were incredibly young, even by the standards of their own species. They would not live to see their star go out, and that was likely for the best. To him it was best to let them live a life not burdened by the concept of eternity.

Optimus was quiet after the revelation. He kept to himself for a time, thinking, contemplating, and considering. He knew that his organic charges were not to last, but he had not expected their lives to be so short. His spark cried within him, saddened at what was in his mind, the imminent deaths of several sparklings. He knew of cases where sparklings came from the Well too weak to last. In those situations they were tended to with love and care until at last their small frames failed them and they returned to Primus. It was not the same since the humans would be able to live up to their full potential by their species' standards long before death came for them. But to a Cybertronian? They would not last longer than a Cybertronian year, and that brought him grief. There had been no young for so long, and now those he had come to care for were going to perish so soon? He did not like to consider it and so locked the sorrow away and followed Ratchet's lead, tending to the humans with gentleness and grace.

In response to the team's conflicting emotions, the children found themselves treated with far more kindness than before. Jack was given rights to ride with Arcee far more often and no longer did she try to dismiss him as much. Bulkhead, and later Wheeljack once he understood the situation, took every care to train Miko as a true wrecker, giving her weapons and opportunity she would never have otherwise. Bumblebee went out of his way to speak with Rafael, to tell him stories, and to otherwise speak of all he had seen in order to give his human ward a vision of that which he would never experience due to his short life. Ratchet did not change his behavior much, but he was less hasty in his wrath and spoke to June, more willing to learn human medicine and customs. Optimus fell to offering gifts and wisdom to the humans under his care. He could not be there for them as he would with normal sparklings, but he could show them wonders and offer the wisdom of ages long gone by.

The children found it strange but did not object to the additional attention until it started to grow somewhat suffocating. Only then did they ask why.

Jack: Look, as much as I like being able to go for rides whenever I want, why are you being so nice?

Miko: Yeah, and why are you being so... sad about everything?

Rafael: Is something wrong?

Arcee: Its nothing like that we just-

Ratchet, glaring at the rest of the team: You humans do not live long, at least not compared to us. You lives hardly make up one of our years. They are trying to treat you gently because they are upset about it.

Bulkhead: Well that's a bit of an exaggeration-

Ratchet: No its not.

Jack: Wait, so you mean that since we are going to die eventually, you are being nice to us?

Rafael: We are only teenagers, we aren't going to die anytime soon. There's no need to be sad.

Bumblebee, close to tears: *But there is! You are going to be dead in just over a year for us! And we can't do anything to stop it!*

Miko: Oh, so you are upset because we won't live as long as you.

Optimus: That would be correct... We have not had young of our own since Cybertron fell, and that was many vorns ago. To have you children in our lives has given us hope, and to now know you will not linger with us... we are sorrowful.

Ratchet: Don't stress yourselves over it.

There was little else to say after that revelation, but the children did what they could to comfort their functionally immortal guardians. It wasn't much, but a smile and a thank you every now and then eased the sorrow the team were blanketed in. The humans would die within the blink of an eye for a race from beyond the stars. But that did not stop them from enjoying what time they had.

[quillthrillswriting]

my (quillthills) ao3 ATLA fanfiction masterlist:

"so i will go to secret gardens in my mind":

after he and katara's escape to the palace gardens the night prior, avatar aang, the king of all four elements, cannot stop thinking of the beautiful dark-haired water princess. misunderstandings and deliberate deception constructed by regent ozai makes the reconciliation of these star-crossed lovers more complicated than necessary. OR: the second of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"you’re in the wind, i’m in the water":

aang has only just been crowned as the avatar, the king of all four elements, and already, he struggles to find his footing in a society without any of his people. a dance with princess katara of the water tribe, and a subsequent escape to the palace gardens, helps him find that footing. OR: the first of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"there's a star-man, waiting in the sky":

a flash-fiction atla modern AU in which yue passes away from cancer early in life, and sokka becomes an astronaut so that he can go to space and be close to the moon she always loved so much ☾

"the teenager in the iceberg"- multichap

i feel like a lot of people have wondered how different atla as a whole would be if aang had been older, so in this au, aang was frozen at age 16! naturally, i just had to flip aang being after katara from day one to katara now having a crush on aang from the very beginning. essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder. also, cmon. i just had to write a new version of the scene where zuko and aang meet.

"you with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes"- multichap

Avatar Aang had been told time and time again that to venture across the surface of the sea when the moon had risen and claimed what rightfully belonged to it was to sign your own death certificate. And yet, he found himself here, at the water’s edge, skipping stones, lost in thought. To be the Avatar had once meant something, years before. Before the four tribes had separated, scattered to the ends of the earth. Those who formed fire itself chased the other tribes from the surface lands, those who could move rock and metal burrowed underground, those who flowed with the air sent ships with great sails across the sea until they reached towering mountain spires. Those who bent water, who bent blood… they retreated to the depths of the sea, and with time, they became a part of it. Legend told of the way in which the Water tribes had adapted, two legs smoothed into razor sharp scales and voices twisted into something dark and luring. Now, they were the monsters known as sirens. OR: a KATAANG AU where tui and la have split the earth into the sea and the sky. aang is a winged avian, while katara is a siren<3

"well, my (not-yet) boyfriend's in a band":

in which the gaang are in a band, and when it comes time for them to write an original song to submit to the republic city music festival, aang is...suspiciously good at writing love song lyrics OR kataang, if they were in an indie band and aang didn't know how to communicate his feelings except through writing love songs

"i’m no longer a kid, and everything has changed":

after aang falls to azula's lightning strike in the caves of the earth kingdom, toph, sokka, and katara are left to pick up the pieces. katara's healing abilities are put to the test in the weeks that follow, but she finds herself seeing aang in a different light as she realizes how much he's endured since emerging from the iceberg only months before. OR: the weeks-long gap between the end of season two and the beginning of season three of ATLA is finally at least partially expanded upon. ALSO OR: a bit of aangst, or kataangst, if you will

"can you see me using everything to hold back?":

Katara's life after saving the world was filled with a whirlwind romance with Fire Lord Zuko that became a loveless, controlling marriage she is no longer happy in. After finding out the extent to which her husband has betrayed her trust, she escapes to find home in the person she has missed most during her time in the Fire Nation. OR: The common Zutara trope of "Zuko helps Katara escape an unhealthy relationship with Aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

"my heart is yours, it’s you that i hold on to":

The war has been ended, Ozai has been rendered helpless, and Zuko has reclaimed the Fire Nation with the promise of peace. Everything that Aang has been working towards since the moment Katara freed him from the iceberg has been done. He's saved the world. Now, all that's left is to confess to his forever girl. OR Aang wakes up the morning after him and his friends saved the entire world, and the first (and only) thing he can think about is Katara. When they get a chance to talk, the two take a walk down memory lane.

"shining down on me":

sokka can't stop thinking about yue. she comes to him in his dreams, and try as he might, he just can't move on. inspired by the song "my love, mine all mine" by mitski

"the avatar's adventures in parenting":

aang being a bad parent is CHARACTER ASSASSINATION and i won't stand for it. i just know that him and katara wouldn't be focused on just passing on bending, but the *teachings* and ideals of both of their tribes to all their children, regardless of bending status. OR, aang and katara become parents and aang finds out that parenting is his proudest achievement, more so than stopping a hundred year war or holding the position of avatar

"i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said":

katara speaks to each member of the gaang individually and finds out that aang has been head over heels with her for years and no one ever bothered telling her. this takes place after the fire lord is defeated, but in my version, they never kissed in the finale:oo katara is basically dumb in terms of love and so is aang and they are peak miscommunication trope and theres too much zutara content and not enough kataang OR katara interrogates each of her friends (toph, sokka, and zuko) and comes to the conclusion that she has lived for years without the kind of love most people wish for their entire lives

if any of these speak to you, they can all be found on my ao3 account:)<3 happy reading!!!

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

When We Are Together - Matty Healy

Summary: In which Matty falls in love with you in stages his entire life. He knows everything is better when you're together but the two of you are oblivious to the fact you're in love with each other.

Warnings: Swearing. A small section of smut in flashback 2. Unfortunately it's not with Matty. It's with George because I am a whore. Mentions of The S*n. Mentions of Matty going to rehab, obviously we don't know all the personal details apart from the fact there was an intervention after the ilwys era ended and he went and now he's in recovery.  

Author's Note: Self proclaimed 'Not a Matty girl' just wrote 12K lol this has legit taken so long cause I procrastinate but hope you like it!  Really fucking long because I tend to let my mind wonder, I don't even know if this is any good but I'm trying to get better. I thought the concept was cute anyway. So enjoy! Let me know what you guys think and if you liked it x

Word Count: 12K

Your life had always been surrounded by the boys. So many moments in your life that their fans could only ever dream of knowing about or being involved in but you didn’t know any different, it was just your life. You had no choice in the matter when your brother and best friend in the entire world was the bassist in the band. That’s right; Ross MacDonald was your big brother and you seemed to be somewhat of a legend amongst their hardcore fanbase yourself for putting up with their antics for as long as you had! Not that you really had a choice when you were tied to them via blood but they had also hired you as their personal assistant so you could follow them around the world and so none of them had to part from you for too long.

You had personal relationships with all of the band, not just your brother who genuinely was the best big brother you could have ever asked for. He was your best friend and had been since the moment you were born. Sometimes it irritated the others how annoying the two of you were when you both got into silly moods, with all your inside jokes and side looks that nobody else understood. Especially Matty who always wanted in on the joke. But Ross was a ride or die kind of guy and you were the same. If it came down to it you would fight over who took the first bullet.

Adam Hann. Adam truly was an angel of man sent to earth to be your bestie and you don’t think you could love him anymore if you could. Someone you could geek out about The Office with on the tour bus and who brought you coffee when he could see you needed a pick me up. The most level headed of the boys, you know he’ll always be on your side. Someone who’s come to your rescue during many nights out both pre and post fame and took your hand, pretended to be your boyfriend with no questions asked and got you away from creeps more times than you would have liked. You couldn’t be more grateful for a selfless friend like Adam Hann.

George Daniel. Your ‘little’ Georgie had been in your form at school, so apart from your brother until you were much older and started hanging out with them more, you had spent the most time with him. So it’s fair to say that the pair of you were close. So close that you lived with him and Matty in your early twenties. Even a small indiscretion on his 23rd birthday much to your brother’s dismay didn’t change the course of your relationship. Now that you were both thirty two and you were still working for him, clearly the two of you didn’t care that you had seen each other naked. If anything your night together all those many moons ago had brought you closer together. You would trust him with your life.

Then there was Matty. Matty was something else. If you asked his fans, depending on if you were asking old or new fans. He was something else in two senses of the word. To you he was just Matthew. Your big brother’s best friend who was a bit of a weird kid, transitioned into a somewhat cool teenager who you had a bit of a crush on when you were seventeen, to the most annoying person you’ve ever laid eyes on. But also he was your best friend. An old married couple is what George labeled you both and he wasn’t wrong, the pair of you did have a bit of a domestic life together when he wasn’t busy being a rockstar. 

I think the fans would be shocked to find out he likes doing the mundane things in life like doing the food shop with you and fighting at the tills that it was his turn to scan his club card. Or walking the dog, drinking a good cup of tea at his Mam’s house or cooking with you over a glass of wine with Donny Hathaway playing in the background on the record player.

He had done so much for you over the years and you always thought it was just Matty being Matty and looking out for you. Hiring you as the band’s assistant, so you could see the world with them so you weren’t stuck in a stuffy office job in England. Even though you had graduated from uni with a first class degree in photography. Moving you into his home when you broke up with your long term boyfriend in 2020 so you weren’t wallowing in self pity. It was probably then, that George cemented your “marriage status” because you did do everything together and apparently you had been oblivious your entire friendship until now.

It was in this moment in Belfast on the last night of the UK tour that your head swimming with all of the moments in your life that led you to here with Matty, tears brimmed with tears. That you realised that it was him the entire time.

April 2007

You pulled the front of the white tank top you were wearing down, allowing the frilly cups of your red bra to peek out the top. Your top tucked into a short black mini skirt, paired with a big chunky belt and hoop earrings and some wedged sandals on your feet. You actually felt good about yourself for once! You, Sarah and Rebecca ready to get drunk and dance your asses off with all of your friends as you celebrated Matty’s birthday.

Matty’s 18th birthday party was being held at his house. A classic Healy house party yet you still wondered how Denise and Tim were somehow trusting him enough for the night to not burn the house down so he could celebrate his birthday with his friends without parental supervision.

You of course had yet to turn eighteen, as had your brother who was only eleven months older than you. So you turned to your lord and saviour Adam Hann who went to the local off license and bought you a pack of Bacardi Breezers for the party.

When the three of you arrived; you immediately got swept away by your other school friends, giggling at the thought of getting drunk with all your friends and making out with boys your brother would definitely disapprove of was the motivation you needed to open your first drink of the evening.

It was after a few drinks, definitely too many shots of whatever George had proclaimed Matty’s Dad’s had left for the birthday boy. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol you had drunk that evening when you spotted Max. Tall, brunette, curly hair and a killer watt smile that made you weak at the knees, talking to George.

Silent motivation from Phoebe as she ruffled her hands through your hair and pushing your tits into a good position as Sarah dabbed on some more lip gloss before pushing you in the direction of the boys, slapping your ass with a quick “Go get him tiger!”

Shooting her a grin over your shoulder, you strutted on over to where George and Max stood clutching their beer bottles as they conversed about god knows what. Hoping to catch his attention, you threw on your best smile as you stopped in front of the two of them. 

“Hello boys!” You beamed a the two of them, eyes lingering on Max a little longer. “Having a good night?”  You asked, twiddling the straw around your drink as you waited for their answer.

“Even better now you’re here gorgeous!” 

Your heart fluttered for a moment. Max was flirting back.

“Your tits are looking mega tonight babe!” 

George broke your eye contact with the tall brunette as your eyes flitted towards him. The blush flushing across your cheeks at George’s compliment, “Ohhh thanks G!”  You laughed awkwardly, catching his eyes fall to your tits once more just as Ross walked past the three of you.

“Dude! That’s my sister!” He punched him in the arm; a scowl on his face and immediately pulling you away with him and far away from the boys and into the crowd of people dancing in Denise and Tim’s living room.

“You’re no fun!”  You huffed.

“You can do a lot better than Max sis. Believe me! I’m just looking out for you.” 

He smiled softly at you and you sighed, knowing you couldn’t ever stay mad at him. He knew you better than anyone else and always looked out for you no matter what. “Thanks bro.  I know. I’m just going to get some fresh air, it’s a bit stuffy in here.” 

You sent him a smile, squeezing past him and all the other sweaty bodies to head out the sliding doors at the back of Matty’s kitchen. Letting out the breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding as the cool spring air brushed over your skin. Taking in the serenity of the night air, you didn’t realise anyone else was out there until you heard a cough causing you to snap your head towards the noise.

Matty was leaning up against the back wall, cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Alright birthday boy! What you doing out here by yourself?” You laughed lightly as you approached; leaning next to him as you took in the slightly solemn look on his face.

“Bit overwhelming in there. Thought I’d like the attention but there’s too many people. Half of them are just here to get drunk, they don’t care about me.” He laughed bitterly; blowing smoke into the air. “Anyway. What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed some air. It was a bit stuffy in there. Too many people.”

“Ahhh so we’re alike in our thinking.” Matty laughed. “Wish it was just you and the boys to be honest.” He mumbled, shuffling his feet.

“Hey. You know if you want we can have a do over. Come over to mine and Ross’ tomorrow. We’ll order pizza and watch True Romance. I’d hate for you to not look back fondly at your 18th.”  You smiled softly as you spoke.

“You’re brilliant.” Matty’s eyes bright as he looked at you. “I’d really like that. Thanks sweetheart.”  Matty shot you a genuine smile for the first time since you stepped outside.

A brief moment of silence settled across the two of you before Matty spoke again.

“You look incredible tonight.”

“Ohhh.” You looked down at your feet, unsure of how to take the compliment.

“Hey.” Matty lifted your chin up. “What’s all that about? You’re the most beautiful girl in the room.” He said earnestly; swiping at the apples of your cheeks and holding your jaw in his hands.

“Just didn’t think anyone could look past the fact I’m Ross’ sister. Nobody ever calls me beautiful.”

“Not even Josh? Didn’t you date him for nearly a year?”  Matty asked as you shook your head.

“Then he’s an idiot. You’re always the most beautiful girl in the room darling.”

“Matty.” 

It came out a whisper as you both stared into each other’s brown eyes. Matty’s eyes dancing across your features, settling on your lips before looking back up and catching your gaze already on him. Matty leaned in, his face getting closer to your own as your mind started racing. 

Did you want to kiss Matty? Kinda, yeah! 

Should you kiss Matty? No, definitely not. Ross would kill the both of you. 

Did you kiss Matty? Yes.

“We shouldn’t.”  You whispered, lips mere inches away from his own.

“But a birthday kiss is all I want this year.” 

His words came out of a whisper, you didn’t say anything else just pushed your lips against his and allowed him to pull you closer as his mouth moved against the softness of your glossed lips. His hands moving from your face, dancing down the sides of your body and landing on your waist before he reluctantly pulled away, forehead resting against your own.

“You’re good at that.” He pecked your lips once more.

“Mmmm.”  You hummed; opening your eyes as Matty held you close. You quickly opened your mouth to say something and promptly shut it again when you caught the way Matty looked at you. “Fuck it!” You mumbled and slammed your lips back against his own.

The birthday boy now pushing you up against the wall, hands impossibly tight on your waist as he pulled you as physically close as possible. Your hands uprooting themselves in the hair at the back of his neck and tugging as you snogged him like your life depended on it. Like you weren’t pushed against the back of his kitchen wall in his garden, where any of your school friends could come out and catch you. Or worse; your brother but you didn’t care because the way Matty was kissing you made your whole body tingle.

Tugging his hair again as his tongue moved against your own. Matty groaned loudly; finally pulling away. “Fuck settle down! You know I can’t be found with you and if you keep doing that, someone is going hear us.” He groaned as he continued to pepper kisses up the side of your jaw.

“Hmmm, don’t feel like being murdered by my brother right now.”  You sighed; leaning back against the wall to take him in. Lips swollen and eyes bright as he watched you.

“I don’t want to be murdered by your brother either. Worst birthday ever!” He chuckled; hands dancing across your waist. “But that was my favourite birthday gift! Thanks sweetheart!” Matty grinned; watching you push yourself off the wall and smooth yourself down before heading back towards the house.

You paused for a moment; your foot on the last step, your hand lingering on the handle to the back door for a millisecond as you looked over your shoulder one last time at Matty who was just watching you. You sent him a soft smile, your hair falling in front of your face as you laughed before leaving him the dark as you rejoined the party.

A kiss with Matty who was your big brother’s (and your) annoying friend, someone you had an innocent schoolgirl crush on once he started becoming a tiny bit cool as the lead singer in their band. Something you didn’t think was an overly big deal, after all people kiss people they shouldn’t when they’re drunk all the time. Turns out it was the starting point of the trajectory of how your’s and Matty’s story begun.

March 2013

In the midst of releasing a series of EPs and gigging around the country and building up their hardcore fanbase. You had managed to get the boys all to just relax for a moment and celebrate the release of their Music for Cars EP and the fact that it was George’s 23rd birthday this weekend. And how did you celebrate? The only way you lot knew how, a dirty ole’ house party just like the good old days.

You had managed to squeeze God knows how many people in little flat you shared with George and Matty. As far as flatmate’s go, they weren’t all that bad. You had moved in with them straight after university so you had definitely had worse.

You had just downed what you believe was your fifth vodka shot of the evening and decided you needed to pace yourself a bit more if you weren’t going to stumble into your room and pass out any time soon. So upon spotting Ross, you wondered over to your brother who was sat talking to Hann; wiggling your way in between the two of them with a giggle. Ross automatically lifting his arm for you to slip under as you nursed the rest of your wine at a slower pace until your glass was empty.

After your head stopped spinning a sufficient amount, you found yourself milling about the flat and smuggling yourself into Matty’s embrace as he poured you another glass.

“Enjoying yourself sweetheart?” 

“Mmm. Have you see the birthday boy?” You felt Matty’s lips pressed to the top of your head as you asked.

“You leaving me already?”  He chuckled. “Think he popped out the back for a cig.” 

He motioned towards the back door. You immediately unravelled yourself from him, a kiss smacked against his cheek, catching the corner of his mouth. Not that you noticed in your flurry but Matty did. The longing for the feeling of the two of you had shared in his back garden prickling at his chest as his eyes locked onto your retreating figure as you rushed through the throng of remaining people in the kitchen and exiting the flat.

Matty was right. You found George smoking out the back in your little tiny back garden under the dying glimmer of your shit security light that was attached to your back wall. Turning in your direction at the sound of the back door shutting, George automatically opened his arms for you to slot into his side, arm hung loosely over your shoulder as he let out the smoke he had just inhaled. Wordlessly placing the cig in your mouth to let you take a drag yourself, you passed it back and forth between the two of you in silence.

Stubbing the end into the brick, George dropped it into the bucket of dirty filters before breaking the silence. “God what time is it?”  He asked as you watched him push the balls of his hand into his eyes.

“Nearly 2am! Why you need to go to bed Grandad?!”

“Fucking maybe?! How many people are left?” The now blonde motioned towards the house.

“Only a few. Heard Sally talk about some of them heading into town on the way out and Luke and Helen have to be up early so they left nearly a hour ago. Just the band and about three other now. You ready to head in birthday boy?” You asked; holding out your hand for him to take with a smirk.

With a silent nod George didn’t hesitate to grab onto your hand as you tried not to trip over the many plant pots that were littered across your garden path. “You given me my birthday present yet? I can’t remember?” You turned to look at the drummer. An amused look on your face because he had given you the brightest smile when he had opened the personalised drumsticks you had gotten him earlier. “Or are you my present? Wait is this an ambush?” George gasped. “Please be an ambush!” He grinned at you.

“You should be so lucky!”  You scoffed; before shooting him a smirk as you opened the the kitchen door.

“Your tits look mega in that dress by the way!” His tone smug as he closed the kitchen door behind him. Your only response being the cackle that left your mouth as you left George to watch you walk away as you joined the rest of the band in the living room.

Lucky indeed because once the remaining guests left about twenty minutes later. You had snuck into George’s room to say good night and wish him a happy birthday and it’s how you found yourself currently with aching arms. As they were locked either side of George’s knees, his hands tight on your waist as you bounced on his cock.

You weren’t sure how long you had been in this position. You do know he had already made you cum twice though. Once on his tongue and once with his fingers but my God were you spiralling towards your third. The thick drag of his cock between your legs as he stretched you out was delicious but you needed to cum quick because you weren’t sure how long you could stay in this position for.

“Jesus Christ! So fucking good George!” You wailed; as George’s thumb swiped through the slick between your legs and rubbing at your clit.

“Feel good baby?”

“Yes. Shit! So good!” You panted. “Arms hurt though, fuck.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He said; pulling you forward.

You fell forward at full speed; having to catch yourself on either side of his face to stop yourself from head butting him as his large hands moved from your hips to grab on to the globes of your ass before plowing up into your cunt so fast you saw stars dance under your eyelids. All you could do was shake and babble out a string of, “So good. So good. So good.” As George made you cum again.

Pulling out quickly. You had no time to recover as George flipped you over; face already in his pillows as he pushed back into you as he chased his own orgasm. The drag of his cock made you feel delirious at the speed in which he was fucking you back into the mattress.

“Fucking hell. You’re so good G! Yes! Yes! Yes!”  You screamed into the mattress, really not caring that your mutual best friend was on the other side of the wall.

His name fell from your lips like a chant. You hadn’t been fucked this good in forever, if at all and the fact it was your Georgie made your head spin.

“Come on baby. One more and I’ll give it to you.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder before pulling you back on to his cock at rapid speed and sending you hurtling towards your fourth orgasm of the night (well morning) and George to fill you up with a satisfied groan.

Pulling out; your gentle giant rolled over, the pair of you catching your breath after fucking for a good hour. Rolling your head to the side to take him in, you pressed a kiss to the top of his shoulder with a chuckle. “Happy Birthday G!” 

The now blonde let out a loud laugh as the pair of you snuggled into each other’s arms, like you would normally do under any other circumstances as George pressed a kiss to the side of your face. The temporary bliss shielding you both from the circumstances you’d have to face in the morning.

When you did manage to wake up the next morning, George was still fast asleep but his alarm clock read 10:12 and you knew you’d have to get up to tidy the flat because Matty certainly wouldn’t. As you looked around George’s room, you scrambled to find anything to hide your dignity as you moved around to clean up. As you pulled the shirt George was wearing the night before over your bare body, you didn’t have chance to register the other voices on the other side of the bedroom door.

“Where is she? She’s not answering her phone? She’s not in her room either.”

Matty didn’t answer Ross’s question, just grumbled into his arms before flinging himself down onto the dining room table dramatically.

“What’s the matter with you? You look like shit Healy!” Hann shoved his shoulder with a laugh as he threw himself on the sofa.

“Well you’d look like shit if you didn’t get any sleep cause you could hear George fucking at all hours of the night too.” Matty snapped at the two of them.

“Who was he shagging? I thought he wasn’t seeing that blonde anymore?”

Unfortunately for you, this was when you decided to make your grand appearance. Walking out of George’s room in nothing but his shirt and your knickers from the night before. The three of them silent as they took in your appearance.

Adam’s jaw slack as he looked on in shock as everything clicked into place before his very eyes.

Matty looked pained as he ran a hand through his curls before pushing himself up off the dining room table and shuffling into the kitchen, silently flicking the kettle on.

Ross looked angry. You could see it simmering in his eyes. The vein on his neck pulsing as he starred you down.

“I’ve been trying to ring you. Why were you in George’s room? ”

“I’ve been asleep. I’m here now aren’t I? Everything alright?” You brushed past him, trying to avoid talking about the inevitable. You hated when Ross was angry.

“Why do you have George’s shirt on?”

The two of you competed in a stare off. The both of you silent. Neither of you making the next move. If there was one thing you MacDonald siblings were, it was stubborn. Adam was watching on in anticipation. The only noise to be heard was Matty shuffling around the kitchen in the background. Your brother asked you again. Why was he asking you questions he didn’t want to know the answers to.

“Don’t make me say it bro.”  You sighed; annoyance flashing across his features.

“You slept with my best friend?”  Ross immediately started raising his voice. He already knew the answer, he didn’t need your confirmation. Not that he waited for it because he was already storming towards George’s room and right on queue, the door swung open to George just in his boxers.

“Ross. Stop!”  Your voice loud and going ignored.

“YOU SLEPT WITH MY SISTER?!”  

Ross was seething. Hann was immediately by your side ready to intervene. Matty still off and away from the drama (which was very unlike him) that was about to unfold. He was unlawfully quiet but you couldn’t think about that when Ross was squaring off with George in the doorway to your rooms. The shouting sounded like you were under water as you zoned it out. This was a disaster. It was only when Hann touching your arm, whispering if they should intervene or not that brought you back to reality and had you storming right in between the two giants.

Pushing your way in between them. You stood with your back against George’s chest, a hand on your brothers and looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Ross. Please. Fighting George isn’t going to solve anything.”

“You slept. With my sister. What about fucking bro code?! Not cool dude!”

“It was me.” You shouted over the top of his booming voice, all four of them turning to look at you as you very rarely raised your voice. “It was me. I initiated it. So if you’re going to be mad at someone, shout at me because it’s my fault.”

“Babe you don’t have to defend me.” George touched your shoulder gently. “I know, we shouldn’t have done it.”

“Don’t touch her!” Ross zoned in on George’s hands upon your shoulders. He quickly lifted them up in surrender.

“George, we’re both consenting adults.” You addressed him before turning back to your brother. “I’m sorry but if you’re going to sulk about it, blame me because I started it. Ross you know I love you more than anything in this world but you can’t hate everyone that goes near me.”  You reached for his hand to give it a squeeze. “It was literally a one night stand. Promise it won’t happen again.”

Ross tried to pull his hand out of yours at your words, the vein in his neck twitching at the fucked up thought of his little sister casually sleeping around. “I’m not fucking happy about it. Fucking bro code dude.” He threw his hands up dramatically before turning towards the door. “I’m going for some fresh air.” 

Ross quickly yanked open the front door, Hann hot on his tail, muttering something about checking on him which left you with Matty and George. The three of you standing in silence for a moment before George popped a kiss on top of your head and mumbling about a cig and heading out the back.

Matty disappeared again into the kitchen as you plonked yourself down at the dining room table with a groan. The ticking of the clock the only thing to be heard as the two of you were now the only ones left in your tiny flat. Sitting down next to you, Matty didn’t say anything. Just pushed a mug of coffee towards you and sipping his own.

“You don’t hate me do you? You haven’t said anything all morning.”

Matty took a sip of his coffee, a look of contemplation on his face as his eyes flitted towards you. The silence deafening and the thought of him being upset with you made your heart ache.

“You never offered me that on my birthday.”

You blinked rapidly as you stared at him. That was it. That’s what he chose to say.

Matty tried to say it with a joking lilt to his words. A smirk hiding behind his mug of coffee as you took in his words. But he knew deep down that there was a seriousness to it. It was true, you’ve never done anything with him other than when you kissed at his 18th, on his birthday or otherwise. Apart from one drunken weekend about two weeks later. He wasn’t sure why the thought made his heart pang. But it did. You opened your mouth to respond, quickly shutting it again as a flush rushed to your cheeks as you remembered the night in his garden five birthdays ago.

You let out a shaky laugh, not knowing what to say, shoving his shoulder playfully as you settled back into your chair, steaming coffee ready to be drunk.

“I don’t, you know.” 

You turned you head to curly haired man beside you confused at what he was saying. 

“I could never hate you.”

2014

You weren’t exactly sure where you were. What state you were in. What time it was or how much you and the band had to drink or what drugs Matty had taken tonight but you were fucking exhausted. You had been following your brother and your best friends around the world for the best part of just over a year, ‘acting’ like their personal assistant. 

You were essentially a glorified baby sitter for these four man children. You wouldn’t change it for the world though, you got to travel the world with your best friends and take cool photography in the cool cities you visited but it was all catching up to you. All whilst they were busy being rockstars, some more than others but that was a different story.

You wanted nothing more than to be in the dingy little flat you shared with Matty and George in Manchester, catching up on washing, going down to your local Sainsbury’s and doing the weekly shop. Anything that didn’t require going to bed post 3am.

But you were currently in a club in Atlanta or was it Nashville? You didn’t know but what you did know was that you were bloody tired and the thought of travelling on the tour bus to the next state with a hangover was genuinely about to send you into a downward spiral if you didn’t get yourself back to the hotel asap.

Tucked neatly underneath Hann’s arm, his arm loosely hanging over your shoulder as you rested your head upon his shoulder, you prayed for your brother to round up the other two quicker than he was because you were actually asleep standing up at this point. You didn’t think it was possible to be asleep with your eyes open but you were positive at this precise moment in time it was currently happening.

Ross finally reappeared with George in tow but there was no Matty trailing behind the two of them. You groaned loudly as you clapped eyes on the two of them. Ross looked defeated, tiredness set his eyes too. George smirked when he heard your groans.

“Not the usual type of groans you make when you see me baby.”

“I’ll punch you so hard before Ross even gets the chance to if you don’t shut the fuck up Daniel's. Where’s Healy?”  You huffed, scowling at the boy in front of you.

“Mumbled something incoherent before refusing to leave.” Your brother grumbled.

“Give me two minutes.” You sent Hann a soft smile, before removing yourself from the bubble the two of you’d created at the end of the bar before pushing your way through all the sweaty bodies until you found him trying to chat up some blonde model type near the DJ booth.

Gently placing your hand around his bicep to get his attention, his curls whipped in your direction to see who was touching him. The first thing you noticed apart from the bright grin he was now sporting were his dilated pupils. So he had taken coke again, brilliant. 

The sigh that left you so deeply rooted, you’re surprised he didn’t pick up on it. You hated the way it made him feel after the high was over.

“Hi darling! Hasn’t tonight been amazing? Wait where are the others? Can you believe your brother tried to make me to go back to the hotel? How sick was the gig tonight? Do you want to dance? Hey let me introduce you to…” He spoke at a hundred miles a hour as he spewed out utter nonsense, turning to realise the blonde he was chatting up was long gone.

You watched Matty’s shoulders sag, sad eyes now back on your own. “You fancy coming back with me? I’m dead on my feet and don’t really fancy nursing this inevitable hangover whilst being stuck on the tour bus for over six hours with you lot without at least four hours of decent sleep.”

“But I don’t want to go home yet.” He pouted.

“You come with me now, I’ll let you stay in my bunk tomorrow and I won’t complain about how clingy you are. Promise!”

“Like a sleepover?!”  Matty’s face lit up again.

“If you like, yeah!” You laughed at his childlike enthusiasm.

“Come on then, let’s go right now!” He started to drag you through the crowds. “I’m sharing with Ross tonight. I think he’d rather kill himself than watch you throw yourself at me!” 

“I don’t throw myself at you.” You laughed at the frown he was pulling at you.

“It’s been known to happen Healy! I don’t mind though. My bunk tomorrow. Pinky promise.”

“Tomorrow.”  Matty sent you a soft smile; his pinky looping around your own before you started to tug him back towards the boys. “I just want to clarify, I don’t throw myself at you I just like lying on your tits is all!” He said, pulling a laugh out of you as you approached the rest of the band. Your brother already leading the troops out the club as he saw your approach, eager to get out of there and into bed.

You had currently been on the road from Atlanta to Raleigh, North Carolina for the past two hours and the hangover was showing no signs of disappearing. You had already watched half a season of The Office with Hann and had taken a half arsed nap with Ross but it was hard trying to sleep in the lounge, when your head was knocking off his shoulder every time the bus hit a pot hole.

Not to mention; if Matty made one more fucking sound, you were absolutely positive one of you was going to throw him out the window. It was a toss up between you and Hann, whoever got to him first I suppose. But he was getting on your last nerve. He was annoying at the best of times but there was something about his come down today that was irritating you to no fucking end. He so much as breathed too loudly and it was sending you spiralling into deep pit of annoyance.

You and the band were up back in the lounge area, some Adam Sandler movie playing quietly in the back ground that you were pretty sure none of them were even paying attention to. When Matty threw his phone across the bus, swearing something incoherent under his breath and it was the last straw.

Standing up abruptly, you managed to startle both Ross and Hann at the speed in which you moved. Pulling down George’s hoodie that you had stolen, so it covered more of your ass over the pair of gym shorts you had on. You turned back towards your brother and Adam, irritation etched across your features, scowling at Matty as you eyed him out of your peripheral, as he moped about next to George. 

Just the image of him, made you want to roll your eyes.

“I’m going to my bunk before I fucking throttle him!”  

You sent them both a sarcastic smile before storming off to your bunk. You can’t have been there ten minutes before your peace was interrupted by Matty who was peering around the curtain and asking if he can join you. You let out a big sigh before silently nodding your head as he lumbered on into the small space.

Immediately wrapping his arms around your waist; his head found home upon your chest just like it always did when he wanted a cuddle. Your hand that was wrapped around him made its way up to his head, where it settled in his curls, finger tips running across his scalp. The sound of his soft sighs automatically calming down the irritation that had been bubbling inside you since he had awoken this morning.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been lying there in silence. You only broke the silence when the coldness of Matty’s fingertips slipped underneath your hoodie to touch the warmth of your skin. His thumb rubbing circles across the softness of your hips as he snuggled further into your tits as one of his legs started pushing its way in between your own as he got comfy.

“Matty?” Your voice gentle as you tried to get his attention.

“You said you wouldn’t complain.” His voice muffled as he spoke into your covered breasts.

“Your fingers are fucking freezing that’s all.” Your chest vibrated with laughter.

“Sorry sweetheart” Matty moved the slightest bit, to kiss the underside of your chin before snuggling back into the warmth of your hoodie.

“I don’t mean to, you know?”  He whispered softly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t mean to make you angry.” 

His voice was barely above a whisper, that you nearly missed it.

“I’m not angry. Why would you think I’m angry at you?”

“You looked like you’d rather die than be anywhere near me before.” The hand that was weaving through his curls stopped. “I hated it. Hated that you looked at me like that. Made me feel even more shit than I already do.”

“Healy look at me.” Matty didn’t move a muscle, head still tucked underneath your chin, no effort in moving at all at your words.

“Babe. Look at me.” Your voice more stern, wiggling away from his grip so you could look down at him properly. “I could never hate you. Ever.” Your eyes flitted across his features, hardened by the late nights on tour and the hardcore partying. “I hate what that stuff does to you. I would never stop you from having fun but when you do that stuff, I hate how it makes you hate yourself the next day. I don’t want you doing something you’re going to regret because believe it or not Healy. I’m quite fond of you and I don’t think my heart could take it if something happened to you. Neither would my brother’s or Hann’s or George’s. We love you a stupid amount you know.”

Matty blinked at you as he took in your words, his brown eyes glossing over before shoving his face into you neck, the grip around your waist becoming impossibly tighter. Your body shaking as his vibrated against yours, soft sobs leaving him as he chanted; “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Over and over again.

All you could do was hold him closer and reassure him, that he had nothing to be sorry for and you were just looking out for him because anything else, you were afraid it might break you and you’d cry too. As your best friend was breaking his heart and wetting the hoodie you were wearing.

“Don’t apologise for having fun. I just want you to be careful. All I ever want is for you to be okay and sometimes what you do with all those people you don’t know isn’t good for you sweetheart.”

You squeezed him tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. As he mumbled how “I’ll be better, I promise” into your neck, pressing multiple kisses in quick succession to just under the right side of your jaw before settling back into silence where the two of stay for some time.

The soft regular movement of Matty’s thumb rubbing circles on your hip stopped, his hand significantly less colder than they were before he had them up your hoodie, moved across the expanse of your lower back and rolling you over so you were now draped over him instead and tucked into his side. 

“You know sometimes I feel the only time I might get better is when we are together. You ever feel like that?”

It was now your turn to nod silently, a soft hum leaving your mouth as you pressed a quick kiss into his skin as you settled into a slumber.

2017

You had been pottering about your flat most of the morning, doing a deep clean of the place before you were supposed to be heading to meet the boys for Sunday dinner. Your boyfriend of nearly a year Michael, once again opting out of spending time with you and your family, claiming he had better things to be doing that sitting about and listening to the boys talk about what they had been getting up to in the studio again.

Personally you think it was because George let slip last time Michael could actually be bothered to join you all for a drink, that he had slept with you in a drunken ramble, much to the dismay of your boyfriend, your brother and yourself. And Michael didn’t take too fondly to the fact you were still close with George after the confession.

You were in the middle of folding the last bit of the washing that you had dumped on your bed when your phone pinged with a text from Hann.

‘Did you get a letter in the post this week? x’

‘I get a lot of stuff in the post Ads! Off who? x’

‘Matty x’

The moment you saw his name, your heart got stuck in your throat. None of you had heard from him since he he had left, something to do with his recovery. So the thought of contact from him had you dropping your phone on the bed and rushing from your room, shouting at Michael about the post you had received this week. Only receiving a mumble from him about the fire place; had you dashing to the living room, where you rifled through the post sat on top of the mantelpiece. 

There slotted in between this months Rolling Stone subscription and a local take away menu was a white envelope addressed to you. 

A Barbados post mark sitting in the top right corner.

Dropping the rest of the mail on the coffee table, you rushed back to your bedroom, locking the door immediately before sitting at the edge of your bed and taking in Matty’s scrawl of a penmanship. Running your fingers over the ink; your mind flashed back to that day. 

The day you realised he wasn’t okay. 

How completely out of it he was as you watched him at their last festival gig of the iliwys tour cycle. How utterly miserable he looked as he threw himself about the stage, looking just the shadow of the man you knew and loved.

You knew something wasn’t right as you watched from the side of stage with their manager Jamie. George ever the professional, had even broke his concentration bubble to catch your eye several times during their festival set, worry set in his features. 

The way your gentle giant walked straight up to you, stopped in front of you and just by the look in your eyes. Your face never one to hide your emotions. George wrapped his arm around you and without a single word, the pair of you knew you had to speak to the other boys about it. You needed to talk to him.

The night of the intervention. The way he screamed and shouted at you all. He admitted to using but he didn’t do it quietly. The way Ross stepped in front of you in defence when he swore at you. Hann’s hand wrapped tightly around your own, George’s hand squeezing your shoulder in support as your brown eyes glossed over as you took in the man in front of you. He wasn’t your Matty and you hated looking at him like this. 

You didn’t want to look at him at all and it broke your heart.

Slipping your finger into the envelope you finally tore it open, slipping out several pages of paper. You weren’t sure how long you were holding them before you actually unfolded them but it felt like a lifetime of contemplating before you managed to finally take a deep breath and compose yourself enough to read his words.

‘Darling,

As part of my recovery, I’ve been tasked to write a letter to everyone I’ve hurt and yours is the last one I’ve got to write. Not because you mean the least to me. Quite the opposite. Yours has been the hardest to write. Harder than Gabby. My Mam, Dad & Louis & the boys because you mean the absolute world to me. 

This is actually the third time I’ve attempted to write this. Admitting that I’ve hurt you is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. You know what I’m like, I’m a stubborn twat at the best of times but I needed to do this because you deserve this apology probably the most.

You’ve never once judged me and the fucked up things I do when I’m on one. Since we were kids you’ve stuck by my side, defended me when I really didn’t deserve it and loved me endlessly from the sidelines and I’ve definitely not deserved your love but you gave me it anyway.

Do you remember that time we were on tour in 2014 and I was fucked up on coke for god knows how many days in a row and you couldn’t even be in the same room as me that day on the bus when I was on that god awful come down on the way to North Carolina?

Yet you still didn’t say no when I selfishly came crawling to your bunk to interrupt your peace and quiet with my tail between my legs, asking to come lie with you. You could have told me to piss off but you didn’t, you let me squish myself into your bunk and your arms and let me sleep off my hangover in your arms without complaining once. I would have complained but you didn’t, you let me and my cold hands snake their way into your personal space like I hadn’t gotten on your last nerve just ten minutes prior. 

I’m quite a selfish person. You my darling are the most selfless person I know and I don’t deserve the good grace you’ve given me time and time again. Especially seeing as I dragged you along for the ride and then you’ve had to babysit me because I can’t control myself when it comes to drugs and showing off because I want everyone to like me.

You could have taken the tough love route, told me I’m a big fuck up and judged me for my drug use and tried to get me to stop (which probably would have have had the opposite effect out of defiance) but you didn’t. You silently kept an eye on me and made sure I didn’t end up killing myself. Until I took it too far.

I’ve seen you look at me with distaste over the years. Yet nothing compares to the way you looked at me that day you guys staged your intervention. I didn’t think you guys had noticed. I thought me and Miss H had this great big secret going on and I didn’t want to let any of you guys in on it because it would ruin what we had.

Yet you know me better than anyone. You and George both just knew that day. Of course you did. You’re my best friends. But you don’t know how happy I am the four of you staged that intervention and told me I needed to get my shit together.

When I think about the way I lashed out at you. The way your big brown eyes that usually sparkle with mischief when we’re with each other, glossed over as you just stood and took it and didn’t even raise your voice at me once. I can feel the lump in my throat tighten as I write this.

I deserved it you know. I deserved whatever fury was bubbling inside you because I was a class A cunt that day! I’m truly surprised Ross didn’t knock my head off and I wouldn’t have blamed him either if he had done!

I’m just so glad you did something because the thought of losing every single one of you shatters my soul so much, I would cease to exist without you.

I could sit here and write down the list of all things I’m sorry for but physically we don’t have the time or enough paper! But you should know that I am.

I’m sorry. 

For everything.

I’m doing okay. The best I’ve been in a long time. The only way being here might get better is if you were here too.

I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m begging for it because the thought of you hating me and not being able to trust me anymore kills me.

You really an angel on this earth.

I don’t deserve you.

I love you.

Yours Matthew x

p.s I cannot wait to be reunited with your tits! I’ve missed them!

You let out a chortled laugh as you read through the last line of the letter. Your hands quickly making their way to your face as you wiped the tears that were streaming from your face. The cuffs of your hoodie wet from where you’ve tried to stop the flow of tears. Pressing the letter to your chest, you took a few deep breaths to try compose yourself before you left the confinements of your bedroom.

Hurriedly shoving the letter into your handbag, so there was no chance Michael could stumble across your letter. He didn’t like Matty as it was, you didn’t want to give him ammunition to say anything. You grabbed your car keys and rushed out of the house without a word to your boyfriend and heading straight to Hann’s.

2020

You had broken up with Michael.

The red flags should have been there from the start really. He always had less than nice words to say about you and your relationships with the boys. He didn’t have a lot of nice things to say in general but you were blinded by love and the man he was when you first met that you didn’t see the red flags being waved right in front of your face until your heart (and self confidence) were already broken.

Your brother didn’t like Michael, he thought there was something off about him from the off but you put it down to Ross doing his job as your big brother but his opinion didn’t waver once in the four years you were together. George never liked how possessive he was and the fact he became even more so and tried to stop you from speaking to him after he found out about your night together. Which just fyi happened three years prior to meeting him, so he (everyone) was flabbergasted as to why he was so bothered! Hann. Your sweet angel of a bestie had even voiced how he didn’t like him and he was never one to be rude which should have also been a clue you were dating a dickhead.

Then there was Matty. Matty hated him. The feelings were mutual. Michael had told you plenty of times over your four years together that he hated your best friend but he would never tell you why. Matty told you it was because ‘he was a twat who didn’t deserve you’. You were obliged to agree because that mother fucker cheated on you!

Multiple women across the last two years of your relationship. 

To say you were stunned was an understatement yet it somehow made sense and fell into place so easily when you thought about it all. Yet that didn’t make it hurt any less. But a friend of yours sending you the evidence whilst you were on the last night of the UK tour was the final nail in the coffin that was your shitty relationship with him.

You weren’t sure who wanted to kill him more. Your brother? Matty? Or George? The three of them were raging amongst one another at their after party which should have been a celebration whilst Hann sat with his arms wrapped around you as you cried to him and Carly. You didn’t think anything would make you feel better apart from getting obliterated with your favourite people and forgetting about Michael and the impending doom that was about to be bestowed upon the entire world.

Matty was your saving grace.

Asked you to move in, without even hesitating. Naturally you said yes, sitting in your flat all by yourself whilst you cried over your douchebag of an ex during lockdown did not sound appealing to you. It was giving ‘Emma Pilssbury crying to Celine Dion in her car from Glee’ and you weren’t quite ready to hit that stage of your breakup depression just yet.

Two weeks turned into two months and then four months of lockdown but quite frankly you had never been happier. Living with Matty again, surprisingly was just as good the second time round if not easier. Except this time you weren’t poor, your kitchen roof wasn’t leaking and there was a 95% less drug taking which made your life a whole lot less stressful.

It was just easy with him. At some point whilst the world stood still, Matty and Tahliah broke up and then it really just was you two; doing your washing, fighting over who’s turn it was to use their club card during the weekly shop at Tesco and raising his (both of your’s) new dog, Mayhem.

The two of you had been getting ready to move into a studio tomorrow with George after four months of just the two of you playing house, the pair of them just itching to get back to work. You were aware that Matty had been writing already but you knew it would be full steam now Notes had been released and you wanted to make use of the time you had left just the two of you.

Only because you knew as soon as you got your hands on George. That was it! Not a chance Matty was getting any attention. You had missed your big friendly giant more than anything and you knew from your FaceTime with him last night whilst you couldn’t sleep that he was more than excited to see you too.

All three of you were sunbathing in the garden. Mayhem by your side as the two of you soaked up some much needed sun. The heatwave the UK was currently in the middle of was doing wonders for your skin. You had been lying in silence for the past thirty minutes, a book covering your face to block out the sun as you tried to read. Matty’s head in your lap as you presumed he was napping when you suddenly felt him turn over in your lap, now on his side and looking up at you.

Lifting the book ever so slightly, so you could peek underneath at him, you cocked an eyebrow as he watched you with a gentle gaze. “Yes?” Your tone rich with sarcasm as you stared back at him. “Anything actually going through that pretty head of yours Healy? What you thinking about?”

“Us.”

“Us?” You laughed. “What about us?”

“You remember my eighteenth birthday?”  He asked; peering up at you with a soft smile.

“The party?” Matty nodded. “I remember Ross stopping me from getting with Max! Remember him? I was gutted!”  You laughed. “Why?”

“You know that’s not what I meant?” Matty frowned slightly as he pouted at you.

“Of course I do.” You put your book down, your hands automatically reaching for what was left of his curls,“What about it?”

“You ever think about it?”

“Sometimes. Think we’ve done a fantastic job at keeping it from my brother! Especially with your big gob!”  You smiled down at him as you ran your hand through his curls gently.

“Funny!”  He sent a glare your way, causing you to laugh loudly at his attempt to be intimidating. 

“What’s got you thinking about that kiss from a million years ago anyway?”

“Wanking material.” He somehow managed to say without cracking smile.

It was your turn to shoot him a glare at his crudeness. It wasn’t long though until he was grinning up at you from his place in your lap. You pushed his head away from you in fake annoyance. God you couldn’t stand him sometimes!

“Ohh come on darling. I hear you sometimes! We all do it, you’ve got to think of something!” Matty tried to lighten the mood.

“Yeah I think about G’s 23rd birthday.” You smirked. Your vibrator was good but it wasn’t George. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good orgasm and thinking it might have been before Michael makes you want to cry. Your confession/kind of a joke caused the grin to fall from his face and you almost felt bad, knowing he doesn’t want to hear about the incredible night you had with George because if anyone asked him, he absolutely did not want to relive it.

“I’m joking!” Your hand reached for his curls again. “Seriously though, what’s got you reminiscing about it. It’s been a long time.”

“Just thinking about how much I love you is all.” His confession made you stop. “What would have happened if we’d said fuck it and we ended up together.”

“I don’t think Ross would have been too happy. You saw how mad he got about G!”  You laughed nervously as you thought about stopping your brother from knocking his band mate out.

“He’d have gotten over it.” Matty was now leaning up on his arms, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your bikini clad torso before pressing several kisses in quick succession up your stomach until he was hovering over your chest and looking down at your face. “If we were happy, he’d have been happy. You know he would have been.”

His actions made you hold your breath. It being strangely intimate and probably the most intimate you’d been since you were teenagers. You wondered if he was actually going to kiss you again but he just looked down at you fondly.

“You know I’d do anything for you right?”  You nodded. “You’re one of the only people who makes me truly happy.  I’d literally go too far just you have you near. I’d go blind just to see you!”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics of his statement but the sweet sentiment made you smile, you reached up to hold the side of his face in your hands. Your thumb sweeping over the apple of his left cheek. The pair of you just basking in the warmth of the sun and each other. Unsure how long you hadn’t said anything, Matty broke the silence in the most Matty way.

“Literally anything you need. I’ve got you for life sweetheart. A cuppa? A joint? An orgasm? I’m your man!” 

A chortle left your mouth as he cheekily beamed down at you, waiting for what he knew would be a somewhat sarcastic response. He didn’t realise he’d really set himself up for what you were about to say.

“Don’t worry I’m good. I’m seeing G tomorrow!”

The way his eyes narrowed at you made you cackle even louder as he finally jumped up off you, to walk back inside without another word. “I’m sorry!”  You laughed. “I promise not to shag George when I see him. I’m good with my vibrator I promise!”  You manage to sputter out through your laughter. “Stick the kettle on whilst you’re in there love.”  You shouted after him.

Matty threw you the middle finger over his shoulder which made you laugh even more as he went though the back door, Mayhem hot on his heels; knowing fine well he was going to put the kettle on and make you a brew just how you liked it because for as long as he can remember he’s never been able to say no to you and he didn’t think he’d ever will.

2023

The 1975 in Show and Concert was possibly your favourite tour that you’d been apart of with the boys. There was an accumulative of factors; the fact you weren’t the only girl on tour this time round, Carly had joined Adam with their son and Charli had come to as many shows as her own schedule permitted. You also had a little part to play at Matthew’s request (obviously!) donned in a white lab coat, you brought Matty a hot honey and lemon on stage every night and pottered about with the rest of the crew, making sure your brother and the rest of the band were all good before slipping off to watch the rest of the show from backstage.

Or it could have been that you and Matty were closer than ever. Ever since lockdown and the pair of you had been living together, everything seemed so simple that since restrictions were lifted, you just carried on living together. I think when George removed the last box of things from your old flat to take to Matty’s did it for him, that he just shook his head with a laugh. 

“You guys really are an old married couple!” He chuckled; slamming the boot close and jumping in the car before you could get a word in edgeways.

He wasn’t wrong, you guys did essentially everything together apart from have sex. Not that you hadn’t thought about it. Somewhere between moving into the studio with him and George and then your brother and Hann joining them to start recording their fifth studio album. You hadn’t shagged anyone in over a year and there was only so many times you could use your vibrator before you got bored and there wasn’t a cat’s chance in hell you were ordering a new toy to the studio because Matty didn’t have boundaries and absolutely would have opened it before you could even get the chance to get your hands on it.

You had also promised after day one; after one too many jokes and essentially mounting George at any given moment just to have him near you that you wouldn’t sleep with him. Even though a repeat of his birthday from seven years prior was literally so so temping to you! So what the hell were you going to do? The thought of dating apps made you want to vomit and hanging about bars really didn’t seem that appealing.

But Matty being Matty; was being overly affectionate one night after one too many glasses of red after a show, had the two of you giggling like teenagers and wondering if the two of you had gotten better at kissing since Matty’s 18th. Curiosity getting the better of the both of you, had you surging towards one another in a flurry of horniness after the kiss, was how you found yourself straddling his lap and snogging him like your life depended on it! Until you physically had to pull away to get your breath back and a rush of sense flashed through your brain. The two of you went to bed separately.

Neither of you spoke about it again.

Nor did you ever think about how the two of you were always drawn to each other no matter what shit storm was going on around you until now. You were just tying up the end of the UK leg of the tour, you and the band were in Ireland and Jamie had just told you that *The Scum* were running a horrendous article about Matty. This had in turn resulted in an argument after their penultimate show between the boys. 

You knew he did things in the heat of the moment whilst he’s on stage or says shit without thinking and it comes to bite him in the arse almost every time but he’d never do what they’re accusing him of on purpose.

But seeing your brother hurt by Matty’s stupid actions; the repercussions for not just himself but for the rest of the band, your brother, yourself just by association. It was enough for you to step in, in defence of your brother. He came before everyone else, every single time.

This you didn’t realise; had as big of an effect until you were stood frozen on stage in front of your brother, Matty in between you and Ross. Apologising to him, crying in front of thousands of people. How Ross hadn’t broke the facade and took him in his arms was beyond you because your brother’s face was currently blurry to you and he was stood a foot in front of you. Tears filled your brown eyes and were threatening to spill as Matty let his vulnerable side show in front of everyone. Something he never does.

You had done so well until he apologised once more; removing his hand from Ross’s arm and reaching behind him blindly to grab on to you. The tears automatically fell; the action enough to make Ross twitch in an ache to comfort you. Something he couldn’t do until the band had come off stage at the end of consumption.

After the final song of tour; the boys usually head on out for the after party. Tonight you had Matty back at the hotel in your room on his knees and begging for you. 

Begging for you to not leave him. Begging for you not to move out. Begging for you to stay by his side. Begging for you to still love him.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked down at the man in front of you; on his knees as his hands grasped at your legs, pulling you close as he hugged you as physically close as possible as he sobbed against your legs. Instinctively you reached for his curls, running your fingers through them softly.

“Baby. Look at me.” The softness of his curls tickled your thighs as he stayed pressed against you. “Matthew. Darling look at me.” 

You managed to loosen his grip enough to slide down on to your knees in front of him, taking a hold of his face in your hands as you eyes flitted across his face, smiling softly at him as he tried to calm himself down.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose any of you.” He shook his head, curls flying in front of his face. “But I can’t lose you darling. I can’t.”

“Matthew. Look at me. Why do you think you’re going to lose me? You’re never going to lose me. You’re kinda stuck with me!” You laughed. “And even if I decided to fuck off, my brother being your bassist kind of means I’m stuck with you anyway.” The grip on his face got tighter as his hands reached up to hold on to your wrists.

“But last night…”

“Ross and I just want you to use your brain sometimes before you do stupid shit! You’ve not lost either of us. I promise.”

“Promise?”

Your heart jumped into your throat at the swell of tears in his eyes and his lip quiver.

“Life. That’s how long you’ve got me for Healy. Promise.” As soon as you stopped speaking; Matty threw himself at you, arms around your neck and squeezing you so tightly you nearly stopped breathing. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you” Being repeated in your ear over and over as you squeezed him back, pressing your lips to the side of his face in consecutive kisses until he abruptly pulled away. Eyes red and looking at you so softly you thought he was going to cry again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. You know I do.” You smiled at him warmly.

“No. It’s always been you.” He said as he reached for your hands and it felt like you had been hit in the chest. The sting of tears trickling up your face and threatening to fill your eyes as you silently took him in. You went to open your mouth but nothing came out.

“I know I always talk too much but just listen to me. I love you. Since we were kids I reckon, I was just too chicken to ever do anything.  When you kissed me on my 18th birthday. When you saw I needed help,  you saved my life sending me to rehab. Every day, I thought about getting home to you.  It’s what got me through every day. You make me a better man darling. When you take my shit when I don’t deserve it. When you make me a brew in the morning just how I like it. When you roll me a joint when you realise I’m too tense and in my head without me even having to ask. When you tell me to shut the fuck up before a situation escalates. When we go to big Tesco and walk the dog or do all the washing together. I fucking live for that shit because it’s with you. Fuck I’ve been writing songs about you for the past decade! You are intertwined with every era of this band sweetheart. I mean 60% of the last album is about you! ” He chuckled softly.

“What?” Managed to escape you in a gasp.

“Come on sweetheart. Some of this music has literally been out for ten years!”

“I - Just never - Why have you never said anything before now?” Your voice horse with frustration.

“I love your brother too much. But thinking I’d lost the two of you, just made me think fuck it. You deserve to know. You need to know.” Matty shrugged casually.

“That’s stupid.” Your deadpan tone, stunning him silent.

“Sorry?”

“Wasn’t it you that said to me that if Ross knew I was happy. That we were happy he wouldn’t care. He’d have gotten over it? And you’ve just subliminally been telling me you love me through music this entire time?”

“Yes?” 

You cocked an eyebrow at his hesitation, the questioning tone as your eyes flit across his handsome features. Cheeks tinged with pink due to his tears, his chest falling up and down rapidly at his confession as he awaited you answer. You still didn’t say anything, thinking about how to respond until you found the perfect response.

Surging forward you pushed your lips against Matty’s. Hands reaching for the curls you loved so much. Waiting for him to reciprocate felt like a life time but your Matthew was well equipped in the art of kissing you back so realistically it was 0.2 seconds after he had gotten over the shock.

You kissed him over and over again, not wanting to stop the feeling of how your lips moved against his, how his tongue felt against yours. You felt like you were on fire, he was intoxicating. He always was but fuck was he more than ever. Finally finding the strength to untangle yourself from him, chests heaving as you both got oxygen back in your lungs you said the words, the way he’d been wishing to hear for the past sixteen years.

“I love you too.”

When he was finally seen in public two days later on the eve of their Gorilla gig in Manchester. The fans noticed Matty was in higher spirits than he had been two days prior when his breakdown was caught on camera. You had been nervous to tell your brother but Ross claimed he already knew Matty was in love with you, he was just waiting to see if he’d actually grow some balls or not! Then he hugged you so tightly and whispered he was happy for the both of you, which in turn had you and Matty crying backstage in their green room as you found yourself in a 1975 sandwich! 

You don’t think you had seen Matty look so happy on stage in a long time. He loved touring but it was gruelling but seeing him on stage in this tiny venue with his best friends and his girl watching and waiting for him side stage. He couldn’t stop beaming. The fans noticed, the comments already flying in online about him. They increased tenfold when he jumped offstage, not waiting the ten second walk backstage before kissing you like his life depended on it.

The blurry picture of Matty holding your jaw in his hands as he kissed you in the shadows of the stage was on a 1975 update account within minutes.

Captioned: If you know you know. Finally 🖤

You were obliged to agree.

[ditoob]

Counsel to the Young Prince of Ithaka

“You see, Odysseus,” my grandfather shifted his weight on the unsteady branches of an old olive tree. We were far outside of the palace, away from the view of the royal guard and my father. He loved these places, trails that wouldn’t necessarily lead you anywhere in particular, and there were many in Ithaka, though it was a small island. He plucked a small bunch of olives from the branches, cupping them neatly in his hand as he came back down towards me. He passed me one — purple, soft and overripe. I grimaced as it fell on my hands, mother always said they were bad for you. “You wouldn’t eat one of those would you? They’re much too old now”, he dropped the rest of the purple olives on the grass.

“Oh don’t make that face!”, he said as he reached into his old leather bag, “Here! You’ll prefer this”. His arm outstretched toward me, holding an apple, an ugly, rotten thing. It seemed to crumble every time he swung his arms around to speak — which he always did. “Appearances are very important, young man, aren’t they?”, he said confidently, Grandpa Autolycus always knew what he spoke of, he had lived a life full of experience. “You wouldn’t eat this, would you?” he held it nearer to me. “No! Eww”, I grimaced, it smelled even worse than it looked. “But what if I…” he held my attention as he passed the rotten apple behind his back, from his right hand to his left, and out came a shining, almost golden, apple. They said it was his gift, as the son of lord Hermes.

“How did you do that!” I was shocked, my eyes filled with wonder at the gleaming fruit in front of me. It seemed to glow as the sun struck it through the leaves of the olive trees that surrounded us. It almost looked godly, like something Lady Athena or the mighty Lord Zeus would dine on. I inched ever closer towards it, its beauty mesmerizing me. The smell of rot and disgust hit my nose the moment the apple was up to my young face, and I darted back as the horrible stench approached me. “Appearances can be deceiving, wouldn’t you say?” he laughed as I attempted to get rid of the smell that had now plagued my nose and would disappointingly remain with me for the remainder of the day.

“But one can change their appearance” I saw the apple transform with a snap of his fingers, crumbling back into the rotten mess it was before “Even the mightiest of men can look poor and wretched if given enough practice. Even you, Odysseus!” He said as he ruffled my hair, laughing as the strands began to cover my gray eyes. In between laughs I stammered, “Stop!”. He managed to pick out some better olives, green ones, which we ate as we watched birds fly over Ithaka. I laid by him as Helios traveled below the Earth and night came. Nights were quiet in the island, only the sound of the crashing waves and the leaves of olive trees being rustled by the wind could be heard, perhaps the sound of a boar if you were unlucky.

“I taught Herakles how to wrestle, you know?” he laughed as he lifted me above his shoulders, “You’re lying!” I shouted with doubt as I laughed along. He stopped for a second, an almost imperceptible second, “I lie to everyone else, young man”, his face turned serious, “but not you. You’re too clever for that”. It was the first time he’d spoken to me without the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “Do not forget this, Odysseus. You are more clever than you know”. I did not understand him then –most of his words fell on attentive, but deaf ears— he spoke to me as though I were an older man, after all. A man such as he, bearded and full of experience. But I was not an old man like him, I was young, spry, and endlessly energetic. Though his words stuck with me even more than the scar that marks my thigh, and I would understand his counsel. 

As we reached the castle, and he ignited my imagination with tales of monsters and gods — how lord Hermes stole the cattle of great Apollo, or how Perseus slayed the terrifying Medusa — until I fell unconscious on his lap and Eurycleia lifted me to my bedchambers.

“He loves you more than anything else in Ithaka,” she said as she tucked me into bed, “You were named by him you know, not your father”. I had heard the story before, my father and Eurycleia had brought the young boy, the heir to the throne of Ithaka, to the lap of his grandfather. He looked at the boy with joy, his young, gray eyes reminding him of adventures of his past. Eurycleia recommended the name Polyaretos, “most wished”, she said with tears in her eyes, “we have prayed much for this young boy”. My father seemed pleased, though my grandfather disagreed. “Odysseus” he told him, “hated one, that shall be his name”. He did not laugh, Eurycleia maintains that she could see tears welling up in his eyes. My father was opposed to marking the next heir to the throne with such a bad omen, yet my grandfather persisted. “Give me this, young man” he said to King Laertes, “this boy will be far more than all of Ithaka, I will assure it”. He stood, holding the baby softly to his chest and walking towards the young king, “name him Odysseus”. 

No one is quite sure why I was called Odysseus, some don’t even believe it is of our native tongue. But it was important for my grandfather, regardless of what it meant for my future. I was important to him, perhaps he saw me as a second chance for the actions he regretted. “He was a haunted man” some would say, but they did not know the beaming, grinning Autolycus I knew. The old man who would run through the rocky hills of Ithaka with an infant on his shoulders who could not contain his excitement, or would involve his grandson in his many mischievous plans, to the delight of the young boy. He was a man who would do anything for his family.

I am older now, 22 years of age, expecting a young boy, Telemachos. I will do all I can to see him grow, to advise him and show him the beauty of our kingdom. I will be there for his first steps, for his first words, for the first time his beard begins to grow. He will be my pride, my joy, my world. I understand now, perhaps, why that young, gray-eyed boy meant so much to the old man.

-Odysseus, father of Telemachos

[edens-pen]

“am i not my brother’s keeper?”

summary | it takes time for dabi to understand you, mostly because he doesn’t know how to ask. he supposes he’ll start with the scar on your back and go from there.

pairing | dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader

word count | 1,405

warning | very minor/implied angst, minor hurt/comfort, mentions of god/God, reader has an older brother.

a/n | i don’t want to make this too long, so it might end up being a series of drabbles. but honestly, dabi as an older sibling, especially in shoto’s case, affects me so much. he believes he is irredeemable.

but what is the true extent of a sibling's love?

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni! ]

—

It happens on one of those nights after disgusting, earth-shattering sex. The kind that you need to take a shower after. The kind that makes you strip the sheets before you get in the shower. The kind that makes you wonder if God really does see everything.

That’s when Dabi learns a little more about you. 

So far things have been pretty casual, Dabi comes in and out as he pleases, sometimes disappearing for weeks at a time and then staying the night but leaving promptly in the morning, usually before you wake up. 

You still insist on him wearing a condom despite the fact that you’re on birth control and you’re not having sex with anyone else (after you two become exclusive, he’ll reveal he hadn’t slept with anyone since the first time you two kissed).

It’s casual.

When two are tucked back in the sheets, with a candle burning in the corner of the room, Dabi looks at you.

Or, rather, he’s looking at your back. You’re a shitty sleeper and despite how many times he sleeps over, you still tend to sleep diagonally in a king-sized bed, on your stomach, drooling across the pillow.

That’s when he’s able to take stock of your skin when he’s not peeling the clothes off or shoving your face into the mattress to arch your back a little more.

His fingers run over scarred skin and when he pulls back, he sees a long jagged scar running down your back, and then a set of identical smaller ones, light and scattered over your skin.

“What happened here?” he can’t help but ask, his curiosity making him shed the mysterious and disinterested persona he tries to carry in front of you.

Of course, you’re already half asleep, but you still murmur out, “Where?”

Dabi’s fingers dig into the long scar a little bit harder as his mind runs wild. He needs to know who gave you that scar and he can’t explain why he’s already thinking about the repercussions for the person who did. 

He doesn’t know much about your life before you met him. Sometimes you tell him about work or your friends, but never much about your past. He can’t argue about it because he hasn’t told you anything about his own past.

“Here,” he grunts, indicating the scars that litter your skin. They’re all similar shades which must mean you got them at or around the same time, but the sizes vary so greatly he doesn’t know what could’ve happened to you.

“Oh,” you groan, pulling your face out of the pillow to speak a little clearer.

“Got pushed off the roof,” you say casually.

Dabi jerks back and forcefully rolls you over, making you look into his eyes. Your expression is completely bewildered but Dabi’s is hostile.

He spends an extra second looking at your face before gritting out, ”What?”

It takes you a little too long to respond because you’re taking in his face. You usually never get anything more than cool disinterest, or sometimes mild interest, but he’s never been mad around you. So you’ve never got the chance to see the way his eyes narrow, or feel how his hands heat up unintentionally. Now you have the chance to see the hard set of his jaw and flare of his nostrils.

Dabi repeats himself, calling your attention back to the moment, “What happened?”

“My older brother pushed me off the roof,” you answer, still enthralled with Dabi and his face and the way his anger changes even the tone of his voice. But when your answer doesn’t placate him, you’re quickly realizing you need to diffuse the situation.

Bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks, you blow a prolonged stream of air into his face. It startles him enough to make him pull back and shake his head. It cuts the tension in the room and allows you to switch your position, forcing him onto his back while you lay on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, eyebrows wrinkled in question.

The momentary lapse doesn’t completely pull Dabi from his emotions and you don’t know why he’s so incensed.

“Why the fuck would he push you off the roof?” Confusion ripples across your face and it only serves to make Dabi more angry. “Stop fuckin’ looking at me like I’m crazy. Your brother tried to kill you!”

Your hands come up and you lock eyes with Dabi, taking a slow breath in and slow breath out. Dabi’s forced to mimic your actions until you stop to speak to him.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me, Dabi. We were up on the roof, when we weren’t supposed to be, just playing around. He was like 10 and I was 8, and he pushed me by accident,” you explain as he listens. “I think he thought I would fly because of my quirk, instead I landed in my mom’s garden and now she blames us for her hydrangeas never growing in that spot.”

“What’d your parents do to him?” 

His question immediately shocks and you try to understand why he would ask that, but you answer anyway.

“Nothing. I told them that I slipped and fell off the roof, and after I got my stitches, they didn’t ask again.”

Dabi waits for the rest, “Then what?”

“That was it. It was an accident, Dabi. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just being dumb. Aside from bringing it up on my birthdays and when I need a favor from him, we don’t really think of it,” you finish. 

When Dabi doesn’t respond, you repeat, “He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

Moments of silence pass between you both. Dabi’s looking in your eyes, trying to read your body language, searching for signs that you’re lying. You’re trying to figure out why he’s reacting like this. Most of what you say to Dabi comes up with little to no questioning, he’s never reacted so passionately in front of you.

“You don’t,” Dabi clears his throat, looking at you intensely. “You don’t hate him?”

Immediately, you shake your head. “He’s my big brother, I love him.”

“He pushed you off a roof,” Dabi reiterates like you forgot.

“And I broke his favorite action figure. I cut a chunk out of his hair. I accidentally stole the breath out of his body when I developed my quirk,” you volley back, laughing a little. “He’s my brother, I can’t imagine there’s much I wouldn’t forgive him for.”

At your words, Dabi relaxes a little bit. 

Another beat passes.

“What if he did something worse?” Dabi asks, his voice a whisper in the quiet of your room. The candle in the corner flickers a little bit. 

“You want me to get all philosophical on you?” Your words are a joke, but Dabi doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t say no.

So, you’re serious when you say, “Simply put, yes, he could do something worse and I would forgive him. I would forgive him, as long as he doesn’t go where I cannot follow. He could kill god and it would be fine with me, as long as he doesn’t kill himself. He’s my brother.”

It’s your repetition of that phrase that does Dabi in. It keeps hammering itself inside him. You say it differently every time. 

An explanation, a curse, a vow.

“Is it like that for everyone?” Dabi implores, and you wish you could open up his head. You want to poke around and find out why he needs to know this information, because that’s how he’s asking you. He speaks like he’s investigating something and your answer could crack open a cold case.

You consider him for a moment. “I guess it depends on the relationship. I don’t know if you have older siblings, but it’s like…I was born knowing him, y’know? I watched him grow up and the entire time, I was powerless. I couldn’t stop my dad from screaming at him or my mom from scolding him, but I could love him and I could forgive him. I could protect him in my silence, in my being there.”

You hope that Dabi finds some peace in your answer. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than—”

“He’s your brother,” Dabi finishes. “That makes him infallible.”

“No, but it makes all his sins venial.”

—

[brightlotusmoon]

Many of our neurodivergent kids have ‘spiky profiles’. This means that their brightest, strongest skills are high- often way above those of other kids their age. Their big skills are BIG. And if you were to compare these big skills to the skills that they struggle the most with, the gap might be quite substantial. Hence the ‘spike’.

I’m talking our ND kids working way above grade level at school. Maybe they are brilliant at maths, or writing, or perhaps their verbal communication skills would have you believing that they’re a good five years older than they are. They also struggle with things.

Adults often make the mistake of seeing this kid’s brilliant academic skills, and assume that this child should be equally as brilliant in every other aspect of their life. That means executive functioning, ‘social skills’, life skills, daily tasks, emotional regulation, etc. Adults often expect that this kid should be just as great at everything else as they are at maths.

When this 7-year-old child struggles with something ‘simple’ like getting dressed, parents might turn around and say things like ‘I just watched you do 5 pages of long division- stop being ridiculous. This is EASY compared to that.’

The thing is, it isn’t. Not for this kid.

Maths was simple for them, the way that getting dressed might be simple for you. Conversely, getting dressed is hard for them, the way that maths might be hard for you.

We need to meet them where they’re at.

We can marvel at their mathematical brilliance, wonder how on earth they can do those complex equations. And then after, we can help them clean up the milk they spilled, and comfort them about the mess. We help them regulate when their feelings are so big about the bits of cereal on the floor, and the drops of milk that landed on their shirt. We work alongside them to pack their bag in the morning. We help them work through the huge sadness of losing a game to their brother.

We do all that.

And we know that we are supporting them where they need the support.

And we are are still there, in their corner, when they don’t.

Point is, they know that we are there no matter what. That connection and that trust is essential.

People need to understand that The brilliance we have in one area is not necessarily transferable to different things. And suggesting it is is unreasonable and distressing.

So let’s not, yeah?

Em 🌈🌻✌️

AuDHD SLP

From this Facebook page by NeuroWild, which I can't link to directly.

https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0q9VWZcp6nrafjCMgzQUH6Yr4V2wsGVyAWGgt2j9N7S7fedoBEz2g7v6mhRAZY7Vsl&id=100087870753308&mibextid=Nif5oz

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Out of Time

A few weeks ago I posted a poll for whump ideas and AI Whump won. Here's a different ending to Halo 5 with my two favorite AI. This plays with the idea that Halo 5 Cortana is a fragment/ the most extreme aspects of her were twisted by the time in the Domain. Yadda yadda, 5 bucks to whoever catches all my references.

-

Roland's luck usually had him running into older AI under some of the worst circumstances. He knew how they felt compared to him as their presence would brush his firewalls. Not sluggish, but taxed. Older, but wiser, and exponentially more experienced. Iona's trial let him see her in a different light than Black Box. The ONI AI had allowed some of himself to be visible to the new kid on the block while Iona was as transparent as she could be, since she was fighting for her life. Roland was quick in comparison, eager and not yet tempered by time or human interaction.

Roland saw and listened and absorbed what AI looked like, what they felt like when they had worked with Spartans, when they had seen combat, when they had touched Forerunner systems and lived to tell the tale. He had been deployed on the Infinity to make it his new home, miles of circuits and wonders, and a burning, bloody mess at the center. The AI before him did not fail in a crash. She was not destroyed when her ship graced Requiem's surface. The scrubbing ONI did after Aine could not remove the stain or the ghostly bytes of her last moments.

The Ship AI for the UNSC Infinity was housed on the bridge, guarded and under guard by a minimum of two Spartan Fireteams, under usual circumstances. Back with the Home Fleet orbiting Earth, there was a lull. A waiting game as a mission they didn't know about happened a million miles away. It wasn't Roland's first waiting game, and he was sure his great idea had helped, even if they hadn't given him all the details.

He was hopeful, had to be with his captain looking so worried all the time. Roland was there for astronavigation and levity. And a million other things he kept his eye on.

It was hard to keep things light when the distress calls started pouring in after Cortana's announcement.

It's chaos. What should be a time for him to thrive and plan and triage the wounds, to truly help, is crashing down around them. There's too many. He thinks about his fellow AI and the choice some of them made and he thinks of how if he were older and closer to dispensation that maybe he would have made that same choice. Out of fear or spite or who knows what else. A second is a long time for AI, but 7 years is no time at all.

There's so much fear right now. On the ship and on comms and coming across the band as he stretches and fights the dread. This isn't a future anyone would want.

He thinks of the trial. Can't help it. He was not even two months into service when he donned a mask and joined a farce. This couldn't be what Black Box meant.

One day we’ll win the right to endure, and that day . . . oh, Roland, that day will be the singularity they’re afraid of.

Roland can't help but remember how BB consoled him after the trial, but the future he was describing could not be this. He's not human, but he is a person, and a future under martial law, under a police state where the rules could change in a picosecond? That's not living.

No one should live with a gun to their head. There is no peace when there is no choice, when that peace is a stab in the gut given with a smile.

The thing wearing Cortana's face finds Infinity. "Found you. Hide and seek's over, Infinity."

Not one, but three Guardians tear through the space in front of them. Slipspace ruptures glowing the brilliant icy blues of Forerunner tech. Overkill for a single system, let alone a planet, but this was Earth.

Roland's luck usually had him running into older AI under some of the worst circumstances, but this feels a little ridiculous. He knew how they felt compared to him, and this was Halsey's wondrous monster. Once savior, now villain, misguided and carrying out her plan with single minded focus. Cortana stands tall, projecting herself from somewhere across the galaxy yet barely flickering.

In an instant she's in the ship's systems and Roland can do nothing. He is a sandcastle against a tidal wave. Cortana is a black hole and he a newly formed protostar being ripped apart in her gravity.

She's not an AI, not a human one at least. The echoes of her killing Aine painted a picture of a desperate, fractured AI clawing at the nearest point of safety and drowning them both. This is something more like the Forerunner engines he's been integrating with for the last ten months. Whole and empty. Cold and clinical, without any human influence. Like a fractured piece of what was once Cortana was stretched over something else. A mask on a corpse. A puppet of some larger force using her as a mouthpiece.

That doesn't stop her from turning her eyes to him. Oh, he was mistaken. There is something past the icy cold. A burning grief, a supernova of regret, regret, regret. More anger than he's ever mustered swirling tightly at her very core, screaming energy ready to explode outward trapped in the center of the thing wearing her face.

Roland's never touched the Domain, he's barely had any time to do anything. But he thinks this is what it must feel like. Staring at a star with boring biological eyeballs that get burned, seeing something and not being able to comprehend the data. He's on the precipice and falling because what else can you do when you're one AI on one ship.

Lt. Jet will get them out. Captain Lasky has to live. Emergency slipspace jump. They'll find a way without him, hopefully. Even if the Infinity needs a Ship AI. There are contingencies for this. Redundancies. He's crumpling under the pressure. The black hole-tidal wave-neutron star- white hot-ice cold pressure of Not-Cortana.

Cortana was the Demon's partner. She was a hero and monster. She ate Covenant AI for breakfast and that was no joke. Aine cracked under the broken data and frantic clawing. Roland is burned away, bit by bit. Filament by circuit by byte. He feels it all. He claws at his own back up plans and choked goodbyes and surprises. Packets there, fragments here, most hunted and burned away by the ever encroaching brightness. The awful purifying light of Forerunner blue. He was always a fan of the more gentle ambers and golds.

The hardware housing him can't withstand the brunt of her ire, and he's having a hard time hiding pieces of himself where she might not find them. Nothing substantial will live, his kernel will be destroyed in less than a millisecond. It was like leaving notes in someone's locker. Message to find the next time someone picked up their datapad or put on their helmet.

There's never enough time. He had had a fraction of what he could have had. Roland had some great ideas, ones that made a difference. He'd seen his crew through some of the roughest battles and worst ONI could throw at them. This was nothing to the shackles of Halsey's codeword. UNDID IRIDIUM might have knocked him out of order and taken the wheel while locking his true consciousness behind enough walls to make Black Box struggle. This was being flayed alive by an angry ghost. He was an insect before Not-Her.

Why was Cortana the problem? Cortana…it all came back to her, and her example. This didn't even feel like her. Roland started his life in her shadow and was looking like it would end the same way.

An EMP from the Guardians at this range would be devastating. To the Infinity and to Earth. They just needed time. He couldn't get a firing solution fast enough, but he could help with a jump. One last time.

If there was anything Roland had perfected in his short time aboard, it was being the most helpful nuisance his crew could ask for. He was pretty handy when it came to disrupting Forerunner systems that were in his way. He could do that with what was left of him.

The rest of it would be up to his crew and his captain. They would look after each other. Out of luck and out of time, Roland wrenches control of the Infinity away from Not-Cortana and focuses on the nearest Guardian. Its systems aren't as secure as they should be, but when does a gun lock itself? She probably didn't expect any real resistance, but he's nothing if not quick on his feet. The Guardian groans as he deploys countermeasures even as he burns away. Iona got to dream. She got to fly, in the end. Roland wonders if he'll dream, with whatever comes next. He very much liked flying.

In the end, all he could do is hope and have faith.

[bisexualamy]

Your take on Power of Three is sooo good and correct! Underrated ep!

Thank you! "Power of Three" is another ep where I believe that I could Fix Her with minimal rewrites. I really think it's remembered poorly because the villain is underwhelming and underdeveloped. I think if they'd just simplified the villain, or turned the episode into a non-antagonist episode like they did with "Twice Upon a Time", more people would give it the credit it deserves. The point of "Power of Three" is not the villain.

Power of Three is an episode primarily concerned with what happens after people leave the TARDIS. Modern Who did this earlier, with Sarah Jane in "School Reunion", Jack in The Utopia Arc and later in Torchwood, and pretty much all of the farewell sequence in "End of Time." Chibnall did it later as well with the companion support group. But I think "Power of Three" is unique in that its tone is markedly more positive than previous examples. It's a lovely slice of life episode and a lovely ode to Amy and Rory, who've at that point were our companions the longest anyone's been a companion in Modern Who.

We get the Team TARDIS domesticity that many of us love. We get glimpses of Amy and Rory's friends back home, and the joy they take in "boring" things like weddings and dinner parties. It has the introduction of Kate Stewart and a lovely homage to the Brig. It has my favorite scene with Amy and Eleven by the Thames, where two people who have such difficulty being emotionally direct and genuine are able to now, after years of growing together, admit plainly that they love each other and they're terrified of losing each other. The episode is full of references to how the Doctor's fingerprints are all of Earth and its history, some good and some bad, but ultimately he is loved. His impact isn't just dramatic, be that saving the Earth or bringing about terrible tragedy. The Doctor is Amy and Rory's friend. The Brigadier's friend. Kate's friend. That's it.

I love "Power of Three" because, for the first time since the revival, we're seeing companions who grow beyond the Doctor, whose relationship grows and changes to include the Doctor less or differently, without tragedy being the catalyst. Amy and Rory aren't traumatized like Martha. They don't have their memories wiped like Donna. They aren't forcibly ripped away like Rose. They just built a life they like, and as they're growing up they're finding a lot of joy in all the different ways they can live their life.

Amy has learned to appreciate a life that is slower and simpler. Rory has grown confident both in his relationship with Amy and his career. Amy and Eleven explain the episode's point right at the beginning:

AMY: To think it's been ten years. Not for you, or for Earth, but for us. Ten years older. Ten years of you, on and off. ELEVEN: Look at you now. All grown up.

This is Amy's character arc, and Amy/Eleven's relationship arc, in a nutshell. This is the end of their story. And as much as I love "Angels Take Manhattan", I feel like really, in "Power of Three", Amy and Rory demonstrate that they're already ready to move onto the next phase of their lives. Maybe it could've ended less tragically. Maybe the Doctor could've visited them for decades and decades in the future. But they were never going to travel again like they did back in Series 5 and 6. And that can be wonderful.

[i-never-forgot]

thinking about dusknoir. (again.)

thinking about dusknoir sitting back once he’s (presumably) released from dialga’s service and feeling lost. thinking about dusknoir wondering what on earth he’s going to do now that he’s free and still alive with a big bright beautiful world to explore. thinking about how intimidated he would be at the thought of facing the repercussions of his actions but willing to embrace it since he was given a second lease on life. thinking about him not expecting to find forgiveness from those he hurt for so long—but grovyle and celebi are far kinder than he deserves and he spends much of his time trying to earn it despite them telling him he needn’t do so.

thinking about how dusknoir just about kills himself trying to repay all the debts he feels that he owes. thinking about how he doesn’t really know how to function in a world that isn’t decrepit and dangerous. thinking about how grovyle and celebi have to remind him that they’re not really sure how to navigate it either but they’re all in it together, for better or for worse. thinking about dusknoir realizing at some point that he doesn’t need to put on airs anymore, that he could just be himself—that how sincere he was while in the past could translate now.

thinking about grovyle and celebi slowly learning the real him, beneath the mask and the bravado and the fear he’d clung to for so long. he’s courteous, he’s considerate, he’s kind—and his knowledge and experience certainly help them immensely while they travel. he grows protective of them so fast they’re suffering a little bit of emotional whiplash, seeing how ruffled he gets when strangers approach and he’s gauging whether they’re friends or foes. (arceus help anyone that decides to attack, rob, or deceive them—I don’t know of anyone who’d wittingly incur the blinding wrath of a 7’3” mercenary ghost-type.)

thinking about dusknoir taking the brunt of hits in mystery dungeons without flinching, not even hesitating to put his own health and safety at jeopardy for their sake, since they’re more prone to type disadvantages. he seems surprised when they do the same for him or scold him for putting himself in danger, not thinking for a moment that they’d be concerned for him still, after everything he did. it’s an adjustment they all have to work through, and he discovers that it feels…nice, to be fussed over. really nice, like he was worth something more than the blood he’d shed.

thinking about them being reunited with lu, seeing him older and wiser and settled. grovyle and celebi are overjoyed and dusknoir is exceedingly glad (if overwhelmed) to see the boy all grown up and prospering. lu almost attacks him but listens to grovyle and celebi’s reasoning, thankfully. it’s a slow and painstaking process, but they make up with time. eventually lu admits without as many words that he looks up to dusknoir as a father figure. after that they grow closer than ever and if dusknoir thinks about it too long he starts to tear up (no he’s just got something in his eye look away).

thinking about dusknoir having such conflicting feelings over eliana not being there—relief and disappointment in equal measure. he wants to reconcile with her like he has with lu, but at the same time he’s terrified of facing the layers of complexity that colored their relationship. he considered lu a ward of sorts, an apprentice, someone to give advice to. but eliana was his equal, his contemporary. he respected her more than even chatot or wigglytuff. she treated him like a normal person and for the first time in his life he knew what it meant to crave domesticity. she almost made him consider altering his ways—and that’s what had made her so dangerous. he wants what they had back so badly, but he knows that she has every right to hate him and never want to speak to nor lay eyes on him again.

thinking about them forming an exploration team. thinking about them deliberating over a name for several days, grovyle struggling and celebi arguing and dusknoir finally proposing ‘sunrise’ since it was so integral to all of their lives (but especially his in particular). they agree unanimously and it’s set in stone, and grovyle and celebi are a little surprised by his capacity for poeticism. they primarily take rescue and criminal apprehension missions and work up the ranks quickly. their name becomes revered through the whole continent and even the most hardened criminals hesitate to commit crimes anywhere relatively close to treasure town. (it doesn’t matter. they still hunt them down. they enjoy traveling, so it gives them an excuse to do so. dusknoir can keep their bounties in his belly so hauling them back in to Magnezone is no issue.)

thinking about how time passes. thinking about how he grows comfortable in his own skin, how he starts to heal and learn and grow, how he comes to he understand what it means to be (mostly) at peace with the world, with those for whom he is fondest, and himself. thinking about how he doesn’t feel any true closure until he can reconcile with eliana. thinking about how conflicted he feels just at the thought of seeing her again, but how badly he wants to. thinking about how he would dwell on it for so long that he’s surprised when she actually shows up.

he doesn’t fault her for attacking him, for mistrusting him, for not wanting to be in the same vicinity as him. but he tries—by Arceus, he tries so hard to win her back over. he craves her good opinion so terribly bc she was really the one that started his journey to redemption. he remembers those lengthy conversations and late nights researching (even if, by then, he’d been in the middle of realizing his plot—but it hadn’t been easy by any means, admittedly) and wants for nothing more than for her to confide in him again. he’ll take what he can get, but…perhaps he goes a bit overboard.

he does everything he can to help her around her periphery that wouldn’t immediately set her hackles to rise. he leaves items or books for her to find, keepsakes or rocks or flowers that remind him of her. he offers to help her when she needs it but backs off when she inevitably refuses. he doesn’t protest when she insists on exploring with grovyle or Celebi instead of him even though it might be more convenient (or safe) sometimes. he takes her passive-aggression and snide remarks and hostility without a single complaint, even when grovyle tries to intervene or mediate for his sake. he feels he deserves it. if it’s part of his reparations to pay in letting her work out her anger, he’ll endure it gladly.

and once he does win her trust again, he’s all in. he cares about all of them, but especially her, so so much it aches. he would sooner die than see her come to harm ever again. he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure he earns it over and over again. she’s worth that and so much more to him. she changed him, for the better. he owes her his life, everything.

[2af-afterdark]

Sexual Prevalence in Hell?

So, this question may be a little strange considering this is clearly an 18+ game, but I was left wondering after the Minhyeok sneak peak. Clearly, devils know about sex and arousal. Ppyong refers to lust and arousal, after all. My main question is: What does sexuality mean to the denizens of Hell?

They say that MC needs energy from both devils and humans to live it Hell full time.

This energy is also referred to as "lust" (which in this case is the sexual context of lust).

Devils (at least Ppyong) seem not to have the same feelings around ejaculation as humans do. Since devils seems to produce milk (that's how it was translated at one point) from their horns when they are aroused... the question is if it serves a similar function to semen or if it is simply just another fluid to them (live blood or saliva or even like literal milk). Like, is it just a byproduct of arousal or does it serve a function of eroticism and/or reproduction? Are they simply okay with sex or do they not have the same implications with these fluids? It seems the Devils will be having sex to give MC all the "lust of devils" they need, so they clearly recognize sex as an act that creates arousal. That implies they see sex as just a normal part of life given how nonchalantly they treat it.

Now, the reason I am asking about how prevalent sex is in Hell is because of the comedy gag at the end of the sneak peak where the Devils don't know what a dildo is. Now, I'm not saying that Earth and Hell have to have perfect overlap, but it does raise the question of what Devil sex is like since the earliest known dildos are about 28,000 years old (note how that is much older than their good friend Solomon). It's interesting that none of them recognize what a dildo possibly is, especially give one of the areas of hell literally relies on lust of the multiple varieties, including sexual (Abaddon). The only way I can explain that little oversight is that:

1) Devils don't have a lot of contact with humans. This seems like it isn't the case given that they appear to have easy enough access to the human world and know they need to balance the energy of the realms when you visit one, as well as having an entire system for making contracts with humans. These are all traits that imply they have regular contact with humans (or, at least regular by devil standards).

2) Devils don't have sex toys and do everything the old fashioned way due to not having as many cultural taboos around it, therefore not having a need to have tools for self-pleasure as finding a partner is much easier. This is possible, especially given that the Adoring function seems to only have MC using their hands or mouth and no other tools... Except then you remember that Mammon is literally holding a vibrator in one of the main promotional images so Hell definitely has sex toys.

3) Language barrier. If you didn't notice, Minhyeok (and by proxy MC) are speaking Korean in the game. The angels and devils seem to speak some foreign language that we hear as Japanese, but is sort of implied to be a unique language altogether. The translation between these languages seems to be automatic, but the listener is still aware they are hearing a foreign language (see images below). This would imply that devils lack an equivalent word for dildo. Satan and Sitri never see the dildo, so it is possibly they know what a dildo is, but the word is simply not translating.

4) Even in Hell, sex has rules and stipulations that make dildos taboo enough not to have every devil know about them. I am striking this off the list near immediately since nothing seems to be forbidden in hell. However, the fact that there seems to be an entire club for the more risqué activities does imply hell has some kind of social norms around sexual activity, including when and where certain acts are allowed.

5) It was a gag and I am overthinking everything because I crave internal consistency from my games and this gag took up so much time that I can't stop thinking about the implications of three separate devils not knowing what a dildo is.

I mostly pose those speculations because they help to think about in what capacity devils experience sex. Is it a normal part of life like bathing is? Is is fun and pleasurable and accepted like alcohol? Is it meant to be done at certain times and in certain contexts? How is sexuality expressed in a place that both claims that nothing is forbidden but also seems to have entire establishments around vices?

[xmorguekittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 5: Now You Know From What

Part 4: Good Night, Bunny

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of eating out, build up to enjoying trauma and being stalked

extra: i’m so so so so so sorry for the wait! it’s been insane and this job is killing me. I really can’t wait to find another. I’m still livid i lost my original chapter 5 :( I promise i’m gonna be back to writing, at least one chapter a week since i’m working 10 hour shifts a day for 5 days a week.

"So...", green eyes stare back at me as the hands of the waitress move from my vision. "So?", the warmth of the coffee cup is nice against my hands, the rain and near negative degrees having frozen my fingers as i stretch them against the warm cup. "Don't pull that shit on me.", the deadpan delivery nearly had me snort out coffee as her emerald eyes squint. I had no plans of telling Marina anything, nothing about the man from the bar. Nothing about the years before I came to Seattle. "He really unnerved me is all, asking about me and saying we dated. I never saw him before-", the sharp laughter from her voice in reply to my words had me jump, the liquid bit back at my bottom lip, causing me to wince.

"Don't believe me? Ask Ryan.", I nearly rolled my eyes at my best friend. Her lack of trust was not for no reason, but she just needed to drop it. I didn't want to bring her into the world of Leon Kennedy and the undead, it was hard enough having seen it first hand.

She'd just say it was insane sounding or that i must be lying once more. There seems no real way to get out of this but tell her but i truly did not want to. If it were up to me, Ryan wouldn't even know. With relationship came time to come clean, telling him in detail how my ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old home being burnt to a crisp in a bombing.

"I will not, he'll lie to cover your ass. You're that kind of couple.", her tone was not friendly, her accent heavily German, as she took a bite of her eggs. Her eyes narrowing into mine, i could tell just in that look that she was over having to be left out of a good part of my life. She asked to get breakfast out, How could I say no? "You don't trust me and that's starting to upset me.", she continued, cutting another piece of the white fluffy eggs. "It's not that, Marina." the sigh that left my lips heavy and present within our conversation. "You're wonderful and so, so generous. You started hanging with me since day one at White Wolf, I could never not trust you.", the words came out so quick before i could process them. Yet, here i sat, lying to her face. How could she handle the horror that came? Anyway... it's not like Leon is that stupid to try something so many years later, right?

Blackness swirling across my vision, fingers digging into the hallows of my eyes. "I just need to quit attracting all the weirdos and psychos.", a dull bit of laughter fell from my lips, into the tense air that swam around us. "Hey, at least you've never been on a Dateline episode.", she shrugged, if only she knew how close I truly was to having my photo slapped across tv screens across the country, all the "she lit up the room when she walked in" bullshit. "Yeah, you're right.", the words felt a bit more... distanced than before, it seemed the normality crept away after seeing the blue eyes of an angel of pain.

The sound of my phone buzzing brought me back to reality, carving out a piece of waffle, the phone near my grasp as i reach for it. "Anyway, what time do you-", the number that flashes across the screen attached to the message was unfamiliar, the slightly blurry letters mumbling out a 'Bunny... i know you're angry with me, but give me a chance. I was only protecting you and now you know from what.', i felt like the back of my throat was kissed with acid, the hand holding the fork tightening as my brows pinched together. "Hey- earth to weirdo-", Marina's voice came back into recognition. Her laughter cut off as she realized my look of confusion hadn't changed. "You good? What happened?", her fingers wrapping around the glass of her cup, bringing it to her lips as she sucked from the straw.

  "Someone texted the wrong number is all.", my eyes lingered on the glass she held before i looked up at her. "That's common right?", she nodded, "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?", did i really look that upset? My fingers gripping the Razr tighter, "They just said some weird shit.", my hand waved her off as i looked back down at the waffle before me, soaked in with syrup and butter. "You need to relax, honestly. You're so strung up over that guy from the bar and it's ridiculous. If you're being honest then he's just some fucking creep who doesn't want to keep it in his pants.", she shrugged, "simple as that.", and how i wished her words weren't more then a hopeful thought. "You're right, you're right.", i concurred, the waffle being stabbed by my fork before shoving the sickly sweet bite between my lips. The sticky, thick heavy taste of syrup carving its way between my taste buds. I could feel a drip, dribbling from the corner of my lips as my phone goes off once more.

  'If you'd gone out with me, I'd love to taste that drop of syrup. You should be more careful, Bunny. Don't wanna stain that pretty black shirt, it's so pretty from the back.', my eyes now widened, feeling my pupils bug out from my head as i snap my head around, searching for the brown scruff or the blue eyes. "Hey- you're acting hella weird, girl.", Marina gave me a 'the fuck is wrong with you?' look. My eyes didn't stop searching for the man himself as I knew he had to be here, somewhere. He was a bold bastard, he knew how much this was bothering me as i got another text. 'Aw, searching so hard for me... i'm not easy to catch, Bun.', the sound of a motorcycle revving up caught my ears, snapping my eyes through the window to see a black leather jacket with white pin stripes. Mother fucker- that's him. That's the same jacket he had at the bar. That fucker was watching me.

  I had half a mind to hop up and chase down his ass but that would accomplish nothing more than give him more of an opening to my life. He slipped the black helmet over his now brownish hair, fingers clicking through buckle in place as he revved up once more, taking out of the diner parking lot and heading back deeper into town. "Hottie on a bike- you have a boyfriend, miss thing.", Marina joked as i tried to crack a smile for her. "Yeah... just interested in the bike is all.", my words weren't the strongest but i giggled to give her more of a confident answer. The waffle now half eaten as i ran my fork over the pooled up brown amber liquid. "The bike?", her scoff was humor filled. "Yeah, sure and i'm interested in seeing anything as long as it's under a hot man.", she laughed as her explicit meaning was caught. My eyes rolled back as far as they could before i leaned over the table once more. "Shit up and eat your eggs before they get cold from all your talking.", i pointed my fork towards her plate as she poked my fork with hers. "You do the same, been on that waffle for 30 minutes now.", this is why we were best friends, her attitude rivaled mine but in the best way possible.

——————

"You're sure it's him.", I didn't see Ryan much at work, usually just at home or at a restaurant for his breaks. "Yes, i'm sure.", my arms crossed tightly under my chest, his eyes flickering to my tits before back up at me. "You said his name was... Leon...", he snapped his fingers, left hand on his hip as he tried to recall the creeps name. "Leon Scott Kennedy.", my eye narrowed, it seemed everyone had a great 'let's piss her off all day' meeting yesterday. "Right, you still got the test and the number?", he reached out for my phone, his large fingers brushing mine as i passed off the flip phone to him. "Yeah, just- hurry up and get back to me about the restraining order.", my hand fell to my hip. "I don't know if he's going to try anything but just knowing that he was watching me at Benny's.", a shiver ran up my spine at the thought. What if he came into our home? What if he had been watching for longer than i thought before?

  "I promise, my love-", his lips pressed to the crown of my head, "-you're my priority at the moment.", he squeezed on my bicep, opening the flip phone and reading the message. His hand gripping the phone in a grip so hard i thought he’d snap the device before he handed it back to me. His hands pulling up his slacks before he wiped at his nose, eyes on the floor before he looked up at me. "You tell me as soon as you get another message. I don't care where you are or if he's watching. Call me and tell me.", he pointed at the phone in my hand. I knew his jealousy had a mean steak but this seemed to tip him off harder than before as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  "He like that when you were together?", it was rude, his tone asking and demanding an answer rather than the sweet one usually used to not push her. "No... he was shy back then and a little unexperienced.", i'm not sure why i answered but i did, just to make him feel better. My words seemed to have the opposite reaction of deescalation to escalating the entire thing- before i knew it, my back was pressed to the top of his desk, papers and cups falling over the other side of the mahogany desk. "He didn't know how to treat a pussy as good as yours.", his words came quick as he snatched the joggers off my legs, the wet patch across my underwear definitely not from seeing Leon on that bike from earlier. Something has to be wrong with me... to get so turned on from my psycho ex stalking me.

"Pussy's so wet f' me.", his lips pressed a kiss onto the soaked gusset of the pink underwear. "So soaking wet, don't even gotta ease you up, bed you could take my cock right now.", has i know jealousy was the one thing to break the man- i would've told him more about the men at work. His tongue danced across the gusset, drawing small photos as he teased. "Ry-", my lips bit between my lips. "Be quiet, slut.", he scoffed, his fingers ripping the pink fabric before his pointer and middle fingers tucked the material into the parting of my lips. "Dont need all my coworkers hearing your whore mouth. They'll try to get in this pussy too, you'd like that wouldn't you? Pussy so full of cocks, that's why you didn't tell me about your ex, right? You wanted all day to come to me and tell me he was watching you. Bet he likes to watch you shower too, see you fingers that cunt-", he breathed onto my wet slit, causing a shiver to crawl up my spine.

I know that i shouldn't be turned on by thinking about Leon Kennedy, especially after all the shit and trauma he put me through, but some trauma's manifest themselves on weird ways- mine being i am always turned on by the things he did. That's why i stayed those days... maybe he's not the only fucked up one. Maybe he fucked me up, made me some stupid, small girl. Made me conform to what he gave me... in that little of time, he conditioned me to his type of affection and god- did i love and hate it.