#three days of my life went into this thing

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt. 5

prev. part. first part.

TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit

It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.

After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.

You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 

"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.

"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.

Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.

"He is the problem."

"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.

"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.

"Baby?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.

"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.

"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.

"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.

"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.

"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.

"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.

"Then kill me."

"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.

"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.

"You're right," finally.

"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.

"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.

"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.

"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.

"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"

"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.

"Yes."

"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?

"Hello," good, Simon's voice.

"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.

"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."

"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?

"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.

"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.

"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"

"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.

"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.

"I don't feel okay."

"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.

"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.

John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.

"I shot someone."

"Proud of you, hen."

"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."

"Only we two now, Johnny."

"Aye, only we two."

"Where do we start?"

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

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife

A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭

For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3

[elly-grace]

Take me to paradise

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Warning: terrible attempt at writing smut, pregnancy

Thank you @funnyjb for proof reading and the request!

The morning sun shone into the windows of the bungalow where you and Joe were staying. Yesterday was the day you finally married the love of your life. Joe and you caught a flight late last night so you could spend as much time as you could in the Bahamas.

You were excited to have Joe all to yourself, he had been a hard man to get alone recently. You roll over to face your husband, you just admire him for a few minutes before finally deciding to wake him up with a kiss.

“Well that may be the best way to be woken up.” His morning voice was extremely sexy. You knew Joe planned something for the day, but a quickie wouldn’t hurt would it? As if Joe knew what you were thinking he flipped you over so he was on top of you.

“What is my beautiful wife thinking about?”

“Just how sexy you look and sound in the morning.”

That was enough for him to start to lean down and kiss you. His lips suddenly found their way to your neck, then collar bone, then your stomach. Then he stopped and looked at you with a devilish grin.

“It’s time to get ready, we have stuff to do.”

“Joey, you can’t just make me wet then not do anything about it!” you whined out, feeling incredibly frustrated that he would do that to you. But he didn’t budge, he just kept that stupid grin on his face.

“Later baby, I promise.” he said, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue. Then you had an idea, you waited till he walked away then started to touch yourself moaning loudly. It didn’t feel as good as you were making it sound but you wanted to get his attention. When he heard you moaning he dropped what he was doing and made his way back to the room.

“Were you touching yourself?”

You look at him innocently.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me, you know exactly what I mean.” You could see the lust in Joe's eyes.

“So what if I was? You weren’t going to take care of it.”

That was it, he had enough of you teasing him. He pinned you to the bed and started to create friction between the two of you.

“Oh I will take care of it baby”

The tension between the two of you only grew. Joe’s look was primal, looking at you like you were his prey. The two of you had had sex plenty of times, but never once did he give you the look he was giving you now. The feeling in your stomach only gets stronger as things progress.

“Joe” you breathed out.

“Yes.”

“Please”

“Please what?”

“Please, make me yours.”

“You already belong to me”

The next day

The next morning Joe woke up before you, he walked out of your room and into the kitchen to make you breakfast. The two of you stayed in bed all day, between your rendezvous and just enjoying each other's company. Joe knew you would be sore after the day you guys had. When he finished making breakfast, he comes back into the room with your breakfast and wakes you with a kiss. You stir awake feeling his lips on yours.

“Good morning baby, I made breakfast.” he said then placed the plate on the bed in front of you he made pancakes. You smiled at him.

“Good morning Joey. Aww my favorite, thank you!”

Joe stole a pancake from your plate and started eating it. The two of you enjoyed breakfast together. You were loving having your husband to yourself, with no one else around. As the two of you finish breakfast you guys decided on going to the beach today.

You went into the bathroom to start getting ready, you had packed three swimsuits but couldn’t decide which one.

“Joey!”

“What's wrong baby?”

“Nothing, I can't decide which swimsuit to wear”

You show him the three swimsuits hanging up.

“Okay baby, let me take a look.”

He looks behind you at the Swimsuits he sees a beautiful orange ruffled off the shoulder top. He points to it, “wear this top with black bottoms.”

“Joe I’m not going to a bengals game. We're on our honeymoon.”

“Just please wear it” he pleaded with you and you gave up.

The two of you finished getting ready then headed to the beach which was private due to being attached to your bungalow.

You look up at Joe who is looking at you, you both smile at each other.

“LAST ONE TO THE WATER IS A ROTTEN EGG!” Joe screamed as he ran to the water. You laughed at your husband's behavior, but didn’t run to the water like he thought you would. Then you see him come out of the water and run back to you.

“Were on our honeymoon, lets have some fun Y/N”

“I’m good here where I can stay dry, plus I think we had plenty of fun yesterday.”

“Not that kind of fun.” he said then picked you up.

“JOSEPH LEE BURROW DON’T YOU DARE DO WHAT I THINK YOUR ABOUT TO DO!”

You yelled, smacking him in an attempt to get him to drop you. Your attempts were futile, your husband threw you into the water then got in himself. He had a smirk on his face, and started laughing when he saw your face. He thought you looked adorable when angry and you for sure were angry right now. Joe knew you wanted to tan but now you were in the water.

“It’s not funny.”

“Admit it, it kinda is. You thought you would stay dry while at the beach.”

You started to laugh with him.

“I love you so much Joey”

“I love you too.”

Your honeymoon continued to go great until the 5th day. You were violently ill, you kept throwing up. You wanted to cry but you didn’t have the energy for it. You didn’t feel like getting out of bed, didn’t feel like eating and Joe was extremely worried. Yet Joe came and offered to make you soup every hour, he was trying to give you space, not that he didn’t want to be there for you. It was because he couldn’t do anything to help you feel better which broke him.

Then it hit you, you were late, maybe your period was finally coming and just making you sick. But when you went to the bathroom and you still hadn’t had your period you go in your toiletry bag and grab a pregnancy test. You and Joe weren't planning on having kids this soon but if it happens it happens. You only had packed some because your mom told you it happens more than you'd think where the newlyweds get pregnant on the honeymoon.

You waited ten minutes and then gasped, when you looked at the test. Tears start streaming down your face, you were excited to start a family with Joe even if it wasn’t planned.

“Joey!”

Joe ran into the bathroom and saw the test in your hand and the tears streaming down your face. Taking large steps towards you he hugs you and looks at the test, then the tears brim his eyes.

“You're pregnant?”

You nodded.

“I know, we planned on waiting a year or two.”

“You're pregnant!” he spoke excitedly and picked you up and spun you around

[myfavoritesstuff]

Through the Illustrated Veil

Pairing: Ren x Isekai!Reader x Solivan Brugmansia

Summary: You awaken to discover that you’ve been seamlessly transported into a realm where visual novels are real life.

Note: If people like this idea, I will turn this into a series. This will have yandere tendencies later on! This is a crossover between 14 Days with You (14dwy), The Kid at the Back (tkatb), and The Coffin of Andy and Leyley (tcoaal). I might add on other visual novels if people request more or if i like the story is going and want to add more. The reader is kind of clueless, but just for this first part. The artwork isn’t mine!

Prologue

Slowly, you opened your eyes, and the world came into focus. It was as if you had stepped into the frame of a beautifully illustrated book. The colors were vivid, the edges sharp, yet everything pulsed with a gentle breath of life. You immediately sat up with a gasp, your heart a beat behind the realization that dawned upon you– this was no longer your room, your world.

“Hello?” Your voice came out as a whisper, yet it seemed to carry across the room. The door to the room opened, and there two figures emerged. It was two people you instantly recognized–

Andrew and Ashley Graves from The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Once known in the realm of visual novels, now stood before her in the flesh.

“I see that you're awake now Y/n” Andrew said calmly. Ashley turned to her brother with an annoyed look on her face.

“Yes, we can both see that Andy. Thanks for stating the obvious.” Andrew turned towards her and the two started bickering. Meanwhile, you were still trying to comprehend what was occurring right before your eyes.

“Umm…” as you began to speak, unsure of your next words, the two turned towards you. “So, where are we?”

The two gave each other a confused look and responded simultaneously, “In our home”.

“Home?” That didn’t sound right, the last thing you remember was Andrew and Ashley killing their parents and taking their home. And from the looks of it, this didn’t seem like it was their parent’s house. “Okay…” you responded, yet still unsure.

“We’ll leave you alone for now, but remember you have school in a bit and work a little later on. See you later sis.” The two left, leaving you stunned. School? Work? You don't remember anything about this visual novel having school or work. And what was this about being their sister? You decide to get out of the bed that you were on, and make your way to the door. Once leaving you instantly recognized where you were. This is the apartment from 14 Days with You.

You made your way to what appeared to be the front door of the apartment and left, too lost in your thinking to say goodbye to your “siblings”.

You made your way down to the bottom floor, and went outside to get some fresh air and think things over. You found a bench and sat down.

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley and 14 Days With You are two of three of my favorite visual novels. The only one that's missing is… oh. You know now. Going to school, it all makes sense now. The last one was The Kid at the Back.

Am I already friends with Sol and Ren or do I have to become friends with them? Sighing you decide to get up and start walking.

Wait, I don't even know where the school or my work is! You thought. But it didn’t seem to matter, since your legs seemed to walk on your own.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Just friends? pt. 2 | Matt Rempe x Reader

pt. 1

Summary: making your way up to your dream job was difficult, but leaving it may be harder that ever.

Warnings: language, small portion of smut, eating, THE NOTEBOOK IS MENTIONED😛🥲

A:N- it’s really short but yuhh

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

It’s been a good month of dating my bestfriend. I’m just scared that if anything goes wrong, that we wouldn’t be the same.

I’ve understood that when or I should say, If we breakup, we of course won’t be friends, but I wnat to talk. Keep up in life. Support him.

Matt has made it clear that it’s me, and only me. I know, dating an nhl player will be hard, because there is always someone out there thinking your boyfriend is cute.

“Dumper?” Matt calls out for me. I’m getting ready in his bathroom. Today, it’s the first day in off season. The rangers had won the third round of playoffs, but we didn’t make it to the end.

You might be wondering why Matt calls me dumper. It’s a long story, taht im glad to walks down with you.

~memory~

“Matt!” I groan as he thrusts into one last time. He releases into me, I feel I’m going to cum as well.

“You cum dump.” Matt laughs out. He cleans us up, and stands up to throw the tissues he used to clean up away. “I do not!” I yell out, I know I do. It makes sense to me.

Why would I cum in like five different times if I feel I’m going to release at one time?

Matt comes down onto me and kissed me from my knee up. He hits my neck and sucks down until I feel nothing.

“Nice hickey.” He chirps at me.

“Oh yeah? I wonder wher i hit it from.” I sarcastically joke with him. He gets hurts from that and lays down on my bare chest.

His brown hair all over.

It’s dark. Bedroom lights are off and the only thing lighting the house is the stars.

He cuddles into me for a few hours while I talk and yap about school, and when I should get my job.

~

“Where are you?” Matt yells for me.

“Bathroom! I have the interview today!” I let Matt know that I’m fully booked, and don’t have time for him.

“Well can we watch a movie tonight? Play some uno!” Matt asked me as he walks into the bathroom. His warm chest connects like a puzzle into my back. He leans into me and kissed my neck. He lays his fluffy hair into the crook of my neck. “I love you.” Matt whispers into my ear.

“Three months.” I say. I pushed him off my shoulder and cussed at him.

“Hey shithwsd?” I laugh at him.

“Hm?” Matt moans in his sleepy voice.

“Go shower. I’ll drive you down to the office.” I follow up. Matt has locker clean out today, many last minute interviews and press conferences.

~

I dropped Matt off at the arena and sat in my car.

Maybe he’s the one for me. The one guy that I won’t mess up with.

~

“Hey baby! How was the interview?” Matt asked me as I walk into the kitchen. Matt is cooking us some dinner and I set my purse down. I fall on the couch.

“That bad?” Matt questioned.

I felt my heart drop. How do I tell him, “No it was good… it’s the fact they don’t have an official employment spot for me here in New York. If I took the job, I would have to move to Wyoming.”

Yeah, no.

“Um, it went pretty well.” I replied, my high pitched cracky voice squeaked out. I think Matt knows I’m stressed. I’m sure I have actual sweat droplets swimming down in my face.

“You’re lying.” Matt looked down at me. He standing above me form the couch.

“No im not.” I laugh out. I stand up and dance with him back to the kitchen.

“Oh my love. My little baby.” I say as I rest my head into his chest. He smiles down at me and he picks me up.

“Give me.” Matt gestured to my foot as he set me down on the counter top.

I eye the stove that he left on. “What are we eating tonight?” I ask him. I try to distract myself.

God. Maybe I shouldn’t take the job.

He looks back at the side over his shoulder, and continues to take off my left shoe. My right foot is hanging and I kick him.

“Oh, uh I made some eggs, just so we could eat some toast and eggs. I was lazy, sorry.” Matt explained. He turned red in embarrassment.

“No. It’s perfect.” It’s the little things. I have to take things into consideration, not just the fact he does big gestures. He does this small thing that matters to me. Like, cooking dinner every night. Or just listening to me talk. Even if he doesn’t care, or deep down isn’t listening, he still looks like he cares.

Matt smirked and he dropped my left foot, only to un tie my right shoe. Once he finished he picked me up and kissed me. “What movie?” Matt asked me as I sit in our couch.

He plates everything into a large bowl and hands me a few slices of apples. “You’d be such a great dad.” I muttered.

“I’m sorry. A father?!” Matt exclaimed. He looks me up and down, smirking. Teeth out. His eyes look at me, I feel him leaving closer.

He grips onto a blanket as he sits down on the couch right beside me.

He turns the TV on to play the notebook.

~

I cried at the en of the movie. Matt holds me as he sleeps in my arms. He snores and he shakes as I weep and cry.

Matt looks up as his head rested on my breasts. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?” Matt mumbled. He rubs his eyes once he kissed my left boob.

He gets up and puts out dishes away. He cleans up the couch, and picks me up. “The movie that sad?” Matt asked me. I understand this season was hard so I let him sleep during the movie.

“You’ve never watched The Notevook?” I inferred, I look outside our window and Matt sets me down.

“I have, but I always fall asleep.” He looks at me and he pulls his clothes off. He’s left in his under set and I do the same. I unclamp my bra and lay in bed. I slide my panties off and lick them to the floor.

Matt fliers with me and he tightens his arms around me.

“I love you.” Matt reminded me, for the hundredth time.

“I have to move, if I take the job.” I let out.

Matt loosens his grip and he breaths in. “So take the job.” He said.

“It’s hard, but we can always fly out together.” Matt implied. We lay in bed. Not thinking about anything, well other than the fact I could leave.

Right when life gets good.

[dinogoofymutated]

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

    You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

    “Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

    “Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage,  licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

    “You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit. 

    “Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

    “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

    “Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

    “Logan! We were just-”

    “Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

    “I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

    “Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

[soaricarus]

a collection of all the weird things that have happened to me in my life, since one of my friends said i should make one

one of my ex-friends [they cut me off bc i rightfully called out how sus it was that they went from 0 rares to a blue headdress and multiple long collars in a day] just up and vanished one day. i knew them from animal jam. they had a youtube channel and were semi-popular. i was in one of their videos, one of those animal jam adventures we played together. there were rumours they died to some illness but nothing concrete ever came out of that, but two months after that everything of their online presence disappeared. one of my friends made a video on them and their passing out of respect, but that video is gone too despite them never deleting it. we both know they existed, but none of us can find anything on them. everyone else's videos are gone too. everything about them is just gone as if they never existed

this isn't the only friend this has happened to. i've had four other friends just suddenly disappear, every trace of them existing just completely gone. typically every trace of them just disappears after 2 weeks, 2 months, or 2 weeks and 2 months. one friend was mid 2018, another friend in 2017, one in november 2019, another somewhere in early 2021, and another aj friend early 2017

this isnt as weird as everything else but we once took a picture and i saw a shiny object on it and reached down to pick it up just moments after the picture was taken but it was gone. there was only an imprint of it and it was nowhere. nobody had reached down to pick it up before me, and nobody else was around. this isnt the only object this has happened to either.

i found a human pelvis on a beach once. i am the only one that remembers this happened despite me showing both of my parents. they have no recollection of this

this didnt happen to me but it is regarding me. my mom once heard me calling for her in my room - she's in the living room sitting by the computer desk, my room is right behind the wall the computer desk is by. she answers and i don't answer back. one thing is for certain though - this was not an audiotory hallucination. she then realized that i was not home because i was in kindergarten. rightfully she was freaked the fuck out and didn't move for an hour or two

here's another story from my mom because i think its fun to include: she once heard the sounds of my dad coming home. opening the door, stepping inside, putting his shoes on the shoerrack, walking slightly into the hallway, and then all the sounds stopped. she's confused and checks the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom because those are the only three rooms he could've walked into. he's in neither of them. she's weirded out but brushes it off for a while until he comes home and makes the exact same sounds that she heard earlier that day. how interesting!

we used to have teaspoons that had two lines at the end of the spoon. one day it changed to the lines being by the front of the spoon. i asked my mom about this when i was 7 and she said "we've always had those spoons?" looking at me as if i was talking nonsense to her. we also used to have a bunch of colorful spoons! but they're also completely gone now despite us never throwing them away. i know we used to have them because i broke a blue one by biting down on it too hard once. oops.

artistic rendition of the spoons:

could also swear we used to have yellow plates matching our other colored plates [as well as cups and forks, because we bought them in a set. The Spoons Included] but we. do not have any yellow plates. my parents have said we have never had yellow plates

i could swear by my entire life that korea, thailand, china, australia and many other countries are not where they're supposed to be. this is not because of different projections. none of the projections match up to the map i know.

we used to have an orange cat named charlie, he was a stray we took in. he had no interest in going back outside and he was a cuddlebug, enjoying the safety of being inside with people that love and care for him. one day when we came home, he was completely gone as if we never had him. we asked everyone nearby if they'd seen him, but everyone said no. we only have two pictures of him [despite us taking many more of him]. here's one of them!

there were two twins that lived across our house. they were pale, had black long hair, and usually wore white - or matching dresses. sounds like a horror movie description, i know, but they actually looked like that. one day during winter after snow had fallen we found out that, when we werent home, they stood in front of our backdoor [which was honestly better described as a big window door] and windows and just stared, because their footprints were there. terrifying!

there was this one time where- apparently an alternate universe or something kinda. overlapped. or swapped? me with an alternate me. my friend rain witnessed this and apparently i called it rainai and wasn't much of an artist from what i can gather, and didn't have the same ocs as i do here. that me was also more shy and definently not the same as i was at the time. this happened in 2019

our cats teleport. i once saw one of our cats, who i will call little shit, inside, eating from the food bowls. sounds and everything from her crunching on it when i got home. i went upstairs to set up my pc and then back downstairs to say hi to her and she was nowhere to be seen. i looked around everywhere and couldn't find her, so i dmed my dad and asked if she was inside and he resopnded that she was outside. i open the door and call for her an lo and behold guess who comes running and meowing. it was not our other cat, mama cat. i can tell their shapes apart so easily

my mom and i saw a witch flying on a broom with their cat once! a shadow silhouette unmistakable for a broom, with a human on the front and cat on the end. we both looked at eachother like "you just saw that right" and just nodded

i saw a big black thing flying by my window twice the size of a raven last yeah. i'm pretty sure that was dragon shaped. four limbs and then wings. i mentioned this once in a friend group server but the chatlogs of that are just completely gone(???)

my mom once showed me an article on how they confirmed alternate universes exist. it was genuine. apparently this exact article does not exist and i am the only person i know [save for my mom] that knows alternate universes were confirmed to exist. nobody else has ever heard anything about this

there was a red pencil sharpener i checked the kitchen counter for 7 times. it was not there. it very much was not there. nobody put it there. when i asked my mom after she walked into the kitche and infront of the counter it was suddenly there after she pointed towards it for me

i will update this with a reblog if i ever remember more because my memory is very selective for some reason

[silverfoxstole]

Bears, bears, bears! Bears everywhere! And Doctor Who bears at that, made specially for and presented by me to Paul McGann, Sophie Aldred and Sylvester McCoy at Portsmouth Comic Con.

As most of you probably know, I document my bear-making activities on here and I made an Eighth Doctor bear a couple of years ago, followed by a Seventh Doctor last summer. Ace was a new one, and because of that I ended up making two, the first as a prototype that I kept for myself, working out the details of the costume, particularly the jacket, and the second for Sophie.

Back in February when I decided to make Anne Bearleyn I found that my usual type of fur was unavailable so I had to go looking for another, ending up with something that while it looked lovely was fairly hellish to sew as it shed everywhere. It was all I had when it came to making the first Ace bear, however, and so I went with that. Afterwards, having got covered in fluff again, I tried to find something similar to the fur I’d used for most of my previous bears, but when it arrived and I started putting one together decided that when compared to the bear I’d just made it looked cheap and nasty, which was definitely not what I wanted for this particular project. Consequently that fabric went on a one way trip to the bin and I ordered more of the other stuff, resulting in what I’ve termed a ‘furpocalypse’ when I decided to cut and sew three more bears in one day:

I had to vacuum both the room and myself four times, and clean out the sewing machine twice! That fluff gets everywhere, even up your nose! It was worth it in the end, though, as the result looks so nice. As the pile is quite thick I had to glue on the noses and use felt for eyebrows as thread just vanishes, but I think that actually looks better and allows for more expression.

I made a second set of Ace clothes while I was waiting for the fur to arrive; the first jacket had been a bit too small and I’d only had satin to use for the lining which disintegrates as it’s sewn, not something I wanted to give someone as a gift. It was a painstaking job to replicate the badges and decoration on the jacket with felt and embroidery thread, but I was pleased with how it turned out:

The costume is based on one from Remembrance of the Daleks, the skirt and t-shirt made from jersey and the decorations on the latter also of felt. She has a plait, rucksack and baseball bat, as well as a nitro 9 canister in her hand/paw (which I actually swapped out for a better one on Friday but didn’t take any pictures of it). The nitro is attached with velcro and can be exchanged for the bat. My only tiny niggle is that I made the jacket lining the wrong colour, only realising it should be orange when I started rewatching Sophie’s episodes last week, but that’s just my perfectionist side at work and her new owner didn’t mind.

“Aaaaaace!” You can see my original Seventh Doctor bear here; I changed a few things working on the new one, this time using blue eyes and making the jacket in cream rather than brown, mainly as a contrast with the darker fur but also so he would match season 25 Ace. I decided to use red paisley for scarf, tie, hatband and handkerchief, adding a red trim to the last two. The jumper once again took a couple of hours’ work, and as this was a present for Sylvester this time I did embroider question marks and chevrons all the way round!

For the umbrella I cut out several long triangles and stitched them together in imitation of a real brolly, using a bit of a skewer covered in felt for the pole (that’s not the word but I can’t think what to call the middle of a umbrella for the life of me!), to which I attached some jewellery wire pinched from my sister (shh!) twisted into the shape of a question mark. That was then covered in yet more felt. I’ve made a lot of things from felt lately!

And voila: one finished Seventh Doc bear:

I do hope Sylvester spots that he even has spoons in his pocket. 😁

Last but not least, we have Eighth Doctor bear, which I actually started first but I didn’t have enough fabric for his coat so he had to sit and wait while I worked on the others. My original is here; he’s gone through a few costume tweaks as I’ve tried to improve on things and this time I mainly used scraps left over from my own cosplay and made them up in the same way: shirt, scarf, waistcoat, belt and gailters are all the same as mine, and the coat is identical material but from a different source.

His shirt and waistcoat both fasten with buttons, and I made the watch chain and belt buckle from embroidery thread. It took several attempts to get the boots and gaiters right, and I went from having quite a large piece of faux leather to something about a quarter of the size, most of it ending up in the bin! Unlike my Eight bear he has a sonic screwdriver, made from - yes, you guessed it! - felt. Fortunately the TVM sonic is quite a simple design, unlike the other one I made which can be swapped with this one to go with the Dark Eyes outfit I ran up on an impulse because I had scraps left from my own jacket and put in the bag with him; hopefully Paul will find it as that DE sonic took me two attempts to get (somewhat) right!

I changed the shape of the lapels on this new coat so that they were more like the real one, and I also took some pics of him in his Dark Eyes gear:

I confess that he was the one I found it hardest to give up. Look at him:

And he matches me!

I had to keep telling myself that I couldn’t keep him, I’d made him for Paul, but it wasn’t easy!

Finally, a few pics of them together:

I was so, so pleased with the way these turned out. Along with Bush (about whom I’ll post separately), these are the best bears I’ve made so far, and I’m glad that Paul, Sophie and Sylvester were just as happy with them!

[enterwittyjokehere]

hii, i’m soz idk ur request rules i couldn’t find them 😖. if any of this is out of boundaries lmk! I was wondering if I could request an angst/comfort-> smut on Gale?

Professor!Gale with his student (afab!reader) at wizard college yk. the student is super good with the work but they get depressed and miss class. Gale is concerned bc he adores all his students! he checks up on reader and helps them into a better headspace. one thing leads to another and reader opts to “return the favor” yk.

Gale is not Mystra in this!!! College professor! The groomed does not become the groomer! everything reader does is not because Gale has sum sort of power over them. they just like him! teacher crush fr!

anyways! sorry for ranting. if I could write for shit i’d do it but ur stories are SOOO good!

Sorry it took a bit to get out, life got in the way, I'm gonna be trying to update more frequently I have two more requests to push out and ab three drafts that I've started and haven't finished.

You didn't mention what gender or pronouns to use so I assumed afab, sorry if that's incorrect. I did have some fun with this one, the more I get into my Baldur's Gate playthrough the more I adore this man lol.

So enjoy~

After Class

Professor! Gale (of waterdeep) Dekarios x Afab! reader smut

⚠️Warnings⚠️

[College professor x student]

[Mutual pining]

[Dealing with issues via self isolation]

[Hurt > comfort]

[Alluding to masturbation]

[Teasing]

[No foreplay]

[Doggy]

[Breeding press]

[Mention of aftercare]

[18+ only]

“Deep breaths, you can do it.” Your professor, Gale Dekarios, stood behind you, holding your arm up.

-He had offered to help you practice a difficult spell you've been having trouble with. After class was over you had approached his desk and explained what spell you had been struggling with. 

Like the kind man that he was he accepted, telling you that while it was a troublesome spell you had enough mettle to learn it-

You said the incantation and with the added power of your professor you successfully casted the spell you had been having a bit of a hard time with. Your eyes widened as you beamed, looking up at your professor who had a sparkle in his eye.

“See, I told you, you could do it!” he smiled down at you, you stared into his eyes and your heart raced. You enjoyed the tenderness in the moment, before a small magickal ringing gained both of your attention. It sounded from Gale’s desk, he sighed, looked past you and turning the ringing off, “Sadly, that marks the end of our after class session.”

He put a couple scrolls he had laid across his desk into a small bag, you spoke in a small voice, “it's a little early, yeah?” 

“Umm yeah.. I have a few things I need to take care of.” Gale stumbled over the question, his eyes traced up your body and gave you a small smile, “But you did wonderful, like always, you'll get it yet.” 

A smile pulled at your lips, face heating from the remark, “I hope so.”

You had turned to grab your bag, being halted by Gale's voice, “Don't leave yet, I'll walk you out.” 

You nodded your bag falling onto your shoulder, the scrolls inside ruffled as you moved. Gale finished gathering his things, wrapping a small amulet around his neck before walking up to you.

He opened the door for you, smiling as you walked through. Walking through the hallway of the college, Gale seemed on edge but made small talk well enough to hide his obscured feelings.

“You've studied for that upcoming exam, yeah?” He asked, opening a larger set of doors. 

“Yes, sir. My arcane lock is the best in the class.” You cheered, smiling up at him.

For the first time all day Gale didn't have a smile on his face, usually his tied back hair was accompanied with a goofy smile and a kind demeanor. Your heart ached, you wanted to know what was going on, your fear for your professor sprouted little seeds of worry into your mind.

Both of you arrived at the waypoint, you went your separate ways. That was the last time Gale had seen you, when the next day arrived and you weren't in class, he had shook it off to you weren't feeling good. 

Day after day, until the day of the exam, you still had not shown face. Gale was worried and you being absent the day of the exam on the best spell in your arsenal only made his fear more present.

He had asked other students if they had heard from you, all only shook their heads, meaning you've basically disappeared without a trace. 

The professor's fear only grew as days went by, you had still not returned. Gale's fear trickled into full blown paranoia as the days went on, keeping him up at night and making him sick to where he couldn't keep food down. Gale had a soft spot for all of his students, even the naughty ones, yet you were one of his prized pupils. You were older than most of the rest of the class, eager to learn and listen, good at taking criticism, Gale was by no means a divination-heavy wizard and, yet even, he could see that you would go on to achieve great feats. 

Perhaps that was why he did it, Gale just needed to rationalize what part of him initiated the idea. Here he was fully in action, knocking on your door, away from the university, in his regular clothes. His face was deep and tired, stress had begun to sink into every fiber of him.

His knuckles knocked sharply against the dark wood of your door, a deep sigh released as he nervously waited for an answer. 

Almost perking up when he heard the soft, “Just a second.” that you had yelled in response. Scattered scuttering noises sounded from inside the apartment, Gale had no idea what you were doing, but hearing your voice brought a smile to his tired face.

When the door finally creaked open, your eyes widened in shock, “Professor-?” 

You looked behind him, seeing that he was alone, “What are you doing here?” 

Gale couldn't speak for a moment, he took the sight of you in. Before he frowned and began to explain, “You've been absent from your classes, at first I assumed you had fallen ill but after a few more absences and no hide nor hare of you, I became… Worried.”

A small smile shown as your face lit up, “Well, I'm fine, just going through a ‘rough patch’.” You turned slightly, welcoming your professor into your home.

He followed suit, walking in, “I really shouldn't stay long, I've quite a lot of work to do.”

“You should at least stay for a cup, I just put the kettle on.” You followed your professor deeper into your home.

Gale glanced around the small rooms, taking in all of your decorations, finally coming to a small couch. He sat on the edge of the couch, waiting as you sat in an armchair across from him.

“Is it pointless to ask for you to come back to class?” Gale asked, leaning forward.

“... No.” The word was released in a breath, “I just can't… not right now.” 

“Why not?” Gale asked, but slowly retracted leaning backwards, “I don't mean to pry, I just want to help, your education is important to me… You are important to me.”

“It's just hard. Right now, I have a lot going on.” You said, sighing.

Gale opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a stout whistle from the kettle, you lifted a hand, “Excuse me.”

Standing to your feet, you left Gale in the room by himself. Coming back with a small metal tray of fancy cups, setting it down on the table that separated the two of you. 

“Sugar is in here, please, take what you want.” You instructed, lifting the top off of a small ceramic container.

“Thank you.” Gale said, looking at you instead of the tea.

“We would really love to have you back in class, you can take the exam you missed and make up the work.” Gale started, ignorant to the way your heart sank as he muttered on, “with your natural talent, you'd have no issues getting back on track.”

“Yes. My Talent.. is why I'm not going back to wizard school, Professor Dekarios.” You paused from your explanations, taking a long sip of your tea, “I've recently felt like my whole world view has come crashing down around me, my whole life I've been naturally so good at spells and magick. I thought I had to be a wizard… I didn't know any other way…”

Gales eyes peered into your own, “It's not the magick you have a problem with… it's you, you think you may be…”

“A sorcerer… it's only a theory, however.”

“My class would still be open to you. I will help you grow however you see necessary and I'm sure a couple books and scrolls wouldn't hurt your newfound identity.” Gale's smug simper helped ease your pain.

Hells him just being there helped you feel immensely better, “if I was to come back to class and still go my own path, wouldn't it be like betraying the weave?”

“The weave is something we utilize, you cannot simply betray it and I'm sure the magick you hold will not mind what path you go down.” Gale said, reaching out to hold your hand.

“Thank you, professor.” You said, smiling at him. 

Gale stuck around and talked with you for a while, not all about magick, but he does have a large interest in the subject. Once the sky had turned dark purple and was littered with the freckles of stars, he thought it best to head to his own home. He chuckled as he walked out your door, turning to give you a small smile, his eyes beaming, “Thank you for having me… And thank you even more for sharing your troubles with me. The fact that I was able to help means more to me than you could ever comprehend.”

“Please, professor, I should be the one thanking you… I was really going through it…” you spoke, rubbing the back of your neck.

After your exchanged goodbye's Gale left, and once again your home was silent, you were alone. Only your thoughts to keep you company now, you thought back to how his hands fit around the small teacup he was holding. How comforting it felt when he grabbed your hand, how for once, his eyes were solely focused on you… You wished it could be like that more, how you craved him deep at night. 

But fantasies are usually just that, fantasy, fiction… fake. Tonight, however they were your comfort, you writhed beneath the covers imagining Gale giving into you. You wondered what pet names he would give you, what habits he would have when he loved you deeply. 

The next day you went back to school, sitting at your abandoned desk, your satchel fell from your shoulder and students began to whisper. Looking over at you and facing one another once again, pointing and speaking indistinctly. It was to be expected it didn't affect you in anyway… however, when Gale stepped up to his pedestal, looking straight at you and fighting to keep a smile down, then you felt something. 

The fires of the nine hells burned inside your stomach, a hand found its way to your cheek, to prop your head up and hide the reddening that quickly spread over your face. Gale went on with class like usual, teaching, talking, rambling, whatever way you chose to say it, it was always the same. You enjoyed it, being such a well learned man was attractive and the way the words rolled off his tongue like a liquid nectar made the experience much better.

Once class was over and you had tucked a couple of your scrolls into your satchel, Gale spoke up, “Ms. (Y/n)” 

You quickly turned to face him, locking eyes with him, “stay after class and we'll discuss your make ups, yeah?” 

You nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

“Wonderful.” He said, you stayed at your desk as students piled out, after the last one you stood up approaching his own desk.

“You're feeling better, I hope.” He spoke, his voice now softer, than when he was teaching.

You nodded, smiling, “Yeah, you helped me a lot, professor, I'm very thankful.”

“Please, as I stated before… I'm just glad I could help.” His large hand once again found your own, giving a reassuring squeeze. It was a kind gesture, but it was one that ignited that fire in you.

“I'll have to repay you, some day..” You spoke, smiling slightly at the thought that popped into your head.

“No, no, no need, You being here is repayment enough.” He spoke smiling, only to cock an eyebrow at the blush you now wore.

“Yes, but it would help me feel better about the whole situation…” 

Gale paused before speaking again, “what did you have in mind?” 

“I could always help you out… You know… to return the favor?” Your eyes flickering up to meet Gale's own. Your teeth latched onto your lip, pulling it into your mouth looking at his hand on your own. For a moment Gale's eyes widened before he pulled his hand away.

A myriad of  inappropriate thoughts flooded the professor’s mind, evident only by the red hue his face took on. A small smile played at his lips a sweet contrast to the simper that littered your own plush ones. Shaking his head, Gale's big brown eyes bore into you, “As much as I would absolutely adore that…” He paused, wincing at the words he was about to say, “ I cannot. If anyone found out I wo-” 

“No one has to know, Sir.” You interjected, keeping eye contact, your confident facade faltered for a moment. Beginning to move away from your teacher, you nodded slightly, “-but I understand, you do have more at stake here than I do..” 

Gale's eyes flickered through emotions at lightning speed, confusion seeped into his features followed by shock and finally he landed on regret, “W-Well. Let's not be hasty now..” 

His hand reached out to you again, as you raised an eyebrow, curiously, at your teacher, “Professor, what exactly are you getting at?” 

“If it's strictly a one time thing and no one would know then… I assume it would be okay to-” softly stumbling over his words Gale's eyes landed on your soft figure, biting his lip, praying that you understood his incessant ramblings.

You nodded slightly smiling brightly, “Just tell me when and where and I'm there, professor.”

“I have two more lectures today, you can meet me after and we can go to my tower, if you would like.” 

“Yes!” You said, loudly, your excitement causing gale to Shush you. Apologizing you still nodded, “Yes, I would love that, sir.”

The rest of your day dragged on as your mind found itself hoping for what was to come, when the time had arrived you met Gale outside of his room. Leaning against the wall, you hadn't even noticed him, you were reading a scroll and focusing on the movements it instructed. Only for gale to grab the parchment and gain your attention, “A bit of difficult Magick, right here… where'd you get this?” 

He was so close to you, leaned against the door frame, his body facing you as he glanced over the spell. Absentmindedly taking his lip between his teeth, his eyes pensively traced the scroll. Before he glanced back over at you, handing it back to you.

“A little shop near my house, just a goal I'd like to set for myself.” You explained as the two of you began your walk, tucking the parchment back into your satchel.

“I could always help you..” Gale offered.

“I would like to figure it out on my own, I think.” 

“That's understandable, when you get the hang of it you'll have to show me.”

“Of course, professor.”

“Please, for tonight, call me Gale.” Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Okay, Gale.” A small and nervous laugh left with the name.

Once the two of you arrived at his door, ending the short commute, he flicked his hand and the door swung open. The candles lining the walls all flicked to life as you walked in, it was like a fancy library, bookshelves lined the walls and little trinkets sat on top of them. You were taking the scenery in as Gale dropped his bag, it fell to the ground with a thump.

“Before we begin, I can make some tea, if you would like.” He said, “and I have some biscuits.” 

You nodded, following him into his kitchen, you sat in a small chair as he paced around the kitchen collecting small items and preparing the water. He was speaking to you about magick, but not in his usual teacher way. Now he was more like a friend indulging you in his interests, “but surely to a student as talented as you, my experiences probably seem trivial.”

“Of Course not, professor.” You said, replying without even thinking.

“What was that?” He said, stepping closer, now towering over where you were seated.

“Sorry, Gale, but it doesn't seem trivial, not in the least..” You spoke, swallowing deeply.

A simper had crawled onto his face, smirking down at you, before the whining tea kettle called for him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder before looking back at you, “Just one second, love.” 

You nodded the word ‘yeah’ ghosting on your lips, but breathlessly, no words could escape you. It felt almost as if he enjoyed teasing you, between the moment with the scroll earlier now this, blissful agony one could call it.

Gale poured water into the two cups of tea, letting them steep. He walked back over to you. A finger ghosting on your chin, lifting your chin slightly, looking in your eyes, he smiled, “ready?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, “F-For?” 

“For tea…” He spoke, placing a kiss to your lips, “what else?” 

He smiled as he brought a small tray closer to you, two tea cups and a plate of pastries sat on the tray. 

You hastily drank your tea, meanwhile Gale sipped his, watching the ways you moved around in your seat. When he drank the rest of his drink he stood to his feet clearing the dishes away, “I'm going to clean this mess up, the bedroom is through the stairs and to the right, you can't miss it, get comfortable.”

“O-okay.” You said, scampering up the stairs, you walked into his bedroom, the bed in the center was huge, you laid down on it, the plush blankets were soft and cool. You began undressing and crawled under the blankets, laying down comfortably. 

After a few moments of you laying there, the door swung open, Gale was also undressed, he crawled over the bed, laying over the blankets on top of you. 

Placing small kisses on your lips and trailing them down your neck, “Get up, and on your knees.” He growled.

You did as he said, standing on your knees, he pushed you down onto your hands and knees, getting behind you he slowly stroked himself before pressing into you. You moaned painfully, inhaling sharply, Gale did not give you time to adjust. He was driven feral by how warm and wet you felt, just for him. You were all for him and Gale was loving every part of it, his pace increased with every moan you gave him. 

Roughly pushing into you, “Yes, take it just like that, such a good pupil.” 

You moaned out beneath him, unable to form words as he ravaged you, placing kisses down your back, his hands held onto your forearms. The two of you rocking against one another, it wasn't long before your legs began to shake. 

“Gale, please.”

Your quivering voice was clouded by your ecstacy as you constricted around Gale, who groaned as he continued to pump into you. Your legs gave out, falling onto the bed, Gale lowered too, laying on top of you, “Damn, already?” 

Gale didn't stop, he milked your orgasm, rocking into you, stopping only to pull out and pat you on the leg. His hand traced your thigh. Before he rolled you over, you helped him, and Gale moved to stand up, still panting he pulled you closer to him. 

You were now on your back, Gale leaned down over you, placing your thighs on his shoulders, he placed another soft kiss to your lips.

“Is this what you think about during class?” Gale asked, pressing back into you.

“S-sometimes…” you admitted, Gale began to rock into you, “Ah-! Gale.” 

He pressed your legs to your chest, his face buried in your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive area. The easy access to the sweet spot made your mouth water as Gale audibly moaned into the crevice of your neck.

His moans were loud and breathy, chasing his own release, his thrusts became sloppy and delayed. 

“Kiss me.” He demanded, you obliged, taking his bottom lip between your own. Kissing him as he rocked into you, “Yes, Gods, look at what you bloody do to me.” 

Finally, Gale thrusted, gripping the sheet beneath you tightly, and with a prolonged groan, he came. Chasing his orgasm, he sloppily rammed into you as your body milked him, clenching around as your orgasms met each other. Both of you gasping for air and mumbling swears beneath your breathless demeanor.

“You know, that was nice,” Gale said, pulling out and moving to lay beside you, “I appreciate it,”

Gale looked over at you, still panting, “I'll go run us a bath.” 

“Umm… sir,” you spoke up catching your professor's attention, “this was just a one time thing, right?”

Gale nodded, “yeah.” He mused as he walked into the bathroom.

It was most certainly not a one time thing.

[deepestnightcolor]

Hello! I just recently found your account while searching for alex/reader and love your one-shot of him!!! I was wondering if you could do another of him and reader and their lead up to a relationship? I haven't seen many of fics with and reader sadly wish he had more! And maybe a Lil freaky deaky scene? Obviously no rush or if your not wanting too! Love your sam fics too❤️❤️

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello there!~ Thank you so much for your request and the Alex love! We must admire our athletic king, mustn't we? I have a little something here for you, the freaky deaky scene might follow at some other point! I started it off with somethin' in my mind and then it got all fluff and mushy...I hope you will enjoy either way! <3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Alex (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1973 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: we like some good ol' fluff, I have decided.

☾ ᴇɢɢᴇᴅ ☽

Alex had always thought that he would only have three priorities in life: Working out, gridball, and his family. Sure, he had had interest in some people here and there – Hayley, for example. She was pretty, and they sometimes were able to share some good times, but it never seemed to go deeper. Some of the guys in town had also made him curious, yet he always felt… a lack of motivation to pursue things after a while. Nothing enthralled him more than these three priorities, and he was a man of principles, simple as that.

That was until a certain farmer decided to take reign over the old, abandoned farm. At first, he didn’t think much of it. A new farmer, so what? You weren’t even living in Pelican Town, but outside of it. He was pretty certain that you wouldn’t ever really become a big part of the community, living in sticks of the sticks like that. Of course, he was polite when you actually swung by. Nodded his head at you, sometimes he even said “hey”. That didn’t mean he paid much attention to you, though. At least that was what he was telling himself.

Something about you always made his head turn, no matter what. Whenever he caught you out of the corner of his eye, he would crane his neck to get a better look at you. He found it amusing that you ran around town with whatever you had farmed that day, dirt covering your sweet, reddened cheeks and sturdy hands. He would watch you as you went to the beach, just to return with buckets of fish hours later. His eyes followed your path to the blacksmith’s house to get Yoba knows what upgraded or whatever geodes you had found broken open. He decided it was your determination that caught his eyes, nothing more, nothing less. After all, you were building up a ruin of a farm with your bare two hands, filling it with the life it hadn’t seen in years.

That theory didn’t last long, either. It ended when you stopped in your tracks one day and gave him this look. It was one of consideration, of doubt. Yet the fog seemed to lift, and instead of uncertainty, a smile blossomed on your plump lips. You crossed your arms behind your back while you approached the athlete, tipping your head to the side as you stood right in front of him. And fuck, didn’t you look adorable? Alluring, almost, with the way you fluttered your lashes at him. A sense of friendly innocence radiated from you, and it hit him right in the gut. “Hey. It’s Alex, right? I have met your grandparents.” It was unfair, really. Even your voice seemed to be drenched in honey, immediately luring him into a conversation he hadn’t been interested in having. “Yeah, Alex…So, you are the new farmer.”

You gave him a grin; one of the kinds he always found attractive. It was challenging, but still so, so polite. “Have you seen any other person running around with dirt on their cheeks?” Alex whistled through his teeth, cocking his brows at the sudden sass being thrown his way. “Alright, then, I guess that answers it.”

The grin on your face didn’t falter in the slightest, quite the opposite. You seemed to enjoy that you had thrown him off guard, that you had made an impression that he hadn’t expected. You let him simmer in silence for a while, before revealing the egg you had hidden behind your back. Given the way his eyes lit up, you assumed you had hit the nail on the head with that one. “My chicken Cluck and Brood were busy, and now I have some extra. Do you want an egg?” The smile that spread on Alex’s face was big, and you were quite sure that you had seen something shift in him. “Really? Yeah, thank you! They are great sources of protein!” He took the egg with a gentleness that took you by surprise. “Yeah, it is no pro-“ The sound of an eggshell meeting a set of pearly whites shoved your words back down your throat. You watched in horror as the brunet broke the shell of the egg and slurped its contents down his throat. What horrified you even more was the sole fact that he didn’t even seem to find the taste disgusting or off-putting, quite the opposite – he seemed to enjoy the taste of raw egg. Which indicated… that he had done this before. Alex apparently didn’t take note of your expression, or if he did, he was used to it and had decided to pay it no mind; he licked his lips like you would after having your favourite dessert. “That was great, thank you, farmer!” He grinned, giving your back a clumsy smack. “I’ll see ya ‘round.” Alright, maybe Alex had thrown you off guard. Yet that wasn’t a problem, because he had been right in one assumption about you – you were determined.

Alex hadn’t expected for you to return this fast, and what he had been expecting even less was you showing up to him working on his gridball techniques – at least that was what he called it; usually he just threw the ball for Dusty to fetch it, just like he was doing now – but there you were, propping yourself up on the fence and throwing a smile in his direction. For a moment. Alex didn’t quite know what to do, so instead of ending his little workout session, he threw the ball again, waving in your direction. “He can go far,” you noted, shielding your glistening eyes from the sun as you watched the animal chase after the ball with great elan. The brunet grinned a little at your comment, pearly whites showing for a split second. “’Course he can, he’s got a great buddy to train with.” “Huh, is that so?” You asked back, mustering the egg in your hand. “Is so.” “So…you could even train someone as incompetent at sports as me?” That had piqued Alex’s attention. He walked over to the fence, green eyes now falling on the gift you had brought him. “Mh…maybe. You’ve got potential, after all. We would probably need to get you to eat more protein,” he began, thick fingers of a large hand wrapping around the animal produce you were holding out. The egg looked tiny in his hand; it would have been possible for you to become distracted by the way he managed to shrink a large chicken egg to one of the size of a quail’s if you weren’t so focused on the words that were about to tumble out of his mouth. “Maybe you could start out with eggs as well?” There it was, the words you had been anticipating and yet hoping he wouldn’t say them. Still, the way he was seriously considering it as if anyone else in this small town ate raw eggs made him kind of endearing to you. “Oh…uh. Maybe. You know, I will start with…uh, something less crunchy? Leave the eggs to the pros like you?” A grin appeared on his face again, warm palm landing on your shoulder with a small smack. “You get it, farmer.” There was an appreciation in his voice that he would have never expected to carry. But then again, he hadn’t gotten up this morning and awaited a sweaty farmer bringing him yet another chicken egg, had he?

You were working yourself into his routine; slowly, but surely. You weren’t set in stone like his strict workout regime, but he knew that at some point, you would show up. Sometimes you caught him in the middle of weightlifting – he had grown accustomed enough to you to allow you to wander into his room -, sometimes you met him while he was walking Dusty. Talking to you came easier and easier, not that he had any trouble talking to anyone, but he just felt…more comfortable. Finding someone that got him, that didn’t necessarily have high expectations. Someone who genuinely cared. That’s why he was hoping that you would find him today. He was sitting at the beach, cradling a music box that seemed so delicate in contrast to Alex’s broad shoulders, chest, and strong arms. A soft melody chimed from the box, luring him into some sort of trance that he was never able to break free from for some reason. He just had to stare, and stare, and stare. Every now and then he also wondered, wondered if his life could have gone differently, better. He loved his grandparents; he loved them with all his heart! But sometimes… sometimes he wondered if he had had a better chance at life- “Alex? You okay?” Something heavy and warm was placed on his shoulder, making the tall man snap upwards just to see your face. You gave him a smile, one that he had grown fond of in the past months. “Oh, hey.” “Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you, but you didn’t react to all my screaming, so I just- I wanted to check up on you.” Alex gave you a smile. It looked strained, but also so, so lost. It made you sit down next to him slowly, keeping your hand on his shoulder, arm now wrapped around the muscular broadness of his back. Much to your surprise, Alex rested his head down on you, green eyes trained on the ocean, following the draw and pull of the waves. The melody from the music box still filled the air with its soothing gentleness, though also thickening it, leaving the bitterness of memories and hopes that were never fulfilled behind.

Your head slowly dropped on the brunet one’s, allowing him to bask in the silent comfort he seemed to need. At some point, his hand wrapped around yours, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “Sometimes, when I miss her…I come here, playing the music box. It brings back what little of an image I got to create of her…makes me feel close.” You hummed, allowing your eyes to wander about the delicate box. The tune was still playing, the little figurine starting yet another round on its little spring. “And I feel weird about it sometimes. I know she’s gone, after all. So why should I keep doing this?” “Because it makes you feel better, you don’t need any more reasons,” you answered, words l

rolling off your tongue in a velvet “matter-of-fact” voice. Alex seemed to relax a little, his gaze falling back on the box as if he only now had dared to look at it again.

 “See, that’s why I like you.” “Like me?” You asked, genuine surprise coating your words, sticking to them in a way that made it impossible to hide it. It was such an abrupt change of topic – not that it didn’t intrigue you. “Yeah, ‘course. Didn’t you notice?” Well, there had been a change in Alex’s demeanour towards you, like you had hoped. He had been more open, more…interested. There weren’t only talks about him anymore, and he didn’t act like you were a simple source of petulance while he was doing what actually mattered to him. “Huh, I thought I was bad at readin’, and now here you are, suckin’ at readin’ signs.” It was a weak attempt at humour, making your fingers wrap around his more tightly. “You became one of my priorities and didn’t even realize.” Hands closing tighter around one another’s’, you smiled to yourself. “I knew the eggs would get you.”

So maybe Alex did have four priorities, and for once, the thought didn’t make his stomach churn. For once it made him feel settled, and soft. Like he could be soft. Like he deserved to feel.

[not-5-rats]

how do you think Sugarboo would go about asking Seth to be their bf? If they ever did. Obvi they would talk to Al first but after that

No cause I've thought about this, like alot...all the fucking time, it plagues my little mind.

(I like to think this is sort of in a time like Chapter 2, all three of them living peacefully in Sugarboos home)

They would have spoke to Alphonse atleast a week earlier, it came up one night when the three were having a film night. Seth had fallen asleep, like deep DEEP sleep and Al noticed the way SB was looking down at the sleeping boy. He asked how they felt about Seth and the conversation ended with SB admitting that they had romantic feelings for Seth but they wanted him to know that this doesn't effect their love for him (this made him laugh). They agreed that SB should speak to him about it because it was pretty clear (to Al) that Seth had some sort of feelings towards them.

SB had a couple meetings with a few potential clients so hadn't been in all day, it was just Seth and Al. They just kind of hung about for most of the day, they cleaned the living room and sorted a couple things in the kitchen. Al seemed to be both happy and rather nervous all day, one moment he couldn't stop smiling at Seth the next he was silently sweeping the floor a bit lost in thought. At around 5pm SB got home, Seth and SB went into the kitchen to make dinner during which SB asked him if he would maybe on a walk with them later, just up beside the local park. He said sure and that night at around 7:30pm they left the house waving to Al as they went.

They had made their way to the park, talking about their days and how the clients were, finally they got to the park and sat down at a bench just outside of it. The park was rather empty apart from a few kids sat on the swings. They hadn't spoken for a bit, they had both just sat admiring the nature around them but then SB spoke, their voice hushed to avoid drawing the teenagers' attention

"Hey Seth? There was something I wanted to talk to you about"

He seemed a bit panicked by this but he made an attempt to suppress these feelings and responded

"Hm? Is everything alright Sugar?"

"Well it's been great having you here, both me and Al think that. You're a great dude to live with and you do alot more round the house than Al ever has"

They both laughed, Seth noticeably quieter than SB but they quickly kept talking

"But thats not the point, I wanted to tell you...well its more asking something. Seth, what I want to say is-"

"If you want me to go I get it, I've been round for quite a while and I don't mean to take up all your space"

Seth cut them off and leaned back against the back of the bench, SB was very confused and went to comfort him but he spoke again before they got the chance

"I've overstayed my welcome and I totally understand that, I didn't mean to get in the way of your life Sugar. I didn't even intend on coming back to begin with-"

There was a nudge to Seths head which made him look over at SB, surprised by their 'attack'

"Seth, you're a sweetheart but shut up and let me speak"

He did as he was told, he nodded remaining quiet as SB explained

"No, I don't want you to leave. If anything what I'm about to say...will hopefully prove that I want you to stay"

They paused, took a deep breath and finally said what they had been aching to say for so long

"I, well I love you Seth. I've loved you for a while, and before you ask yes I've spoken to Al, yes it's all okay. That's if you feel the same! I understand if you don't though"

He seemed kind of stunned, sat there like a deer in headlights. When he finally came round he smiled at them and gently held their shoulders

"Oh Sugar, my darling Sugar"

With that he kissed them, his hand sliding from their shoulder to the back of their neck. SBs own hands wrapped around his waist and they smiled into the kiss, joy building up in their chest. When they finally split SB giggled

"I'm taking that as you feel the same way?"

He laughed

"Of course I do! Sugar I've wanted to tell you for so long but...the whole things with Al, our first meeting, all those things made it feel like you'd never feel that way for me. But God, Sugar I'm so glad, so so glad you feel the same"

They sat there gently holding each other...which caught the attention of the teens, who began to ooo and make kissy sounds, so they went home. Upon seeing the smile on their face Al instantly knew what had went down, so they all sat on the couch and cuddles. It was beautiful and I love them all

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts:

It’s a personal story for Groff, who relates to Frank’s interior life and how others (don’t) respond to his struggles. For example, his showbiz peers suggest he take a vacation in response to a tearful breakdown. “No one wants to really make space for Frank’s darkness or his pain…that feels so familiar to me,” Groff says. “It feels very gay. And then there’s also something about it that feels quite American of like, just…take a little trip, and then you’ll come back, and you work, and everything will be fine. But there’s not a real investigation of sadness or despair.”

Merrily is personal by design — for actors and audience members alike. Groff quotes the musical’s producer, Sonia Friedman (and sister to Merrily’s director, Maria Friedman): “There are certain shows that are beyond theater, and this is one of them where you want the audience to follow the characters’ stories. But you want them to also reflect on their own lives as well as this, because [the show] keeps saying, how did you get to be here?”

It’s a question that Groff contemplates as he journeys backward in time each night at the Hudson Theatre. Like Frank, the 39-year-old has two decades of career and adulthood to reflect upon. He marvels how the teen reading a Sondheim biography in front of his high school science fair project went on to garner three Tony nominations (for Merrily this year, Melchior in Spring Awakening in 2007, and King George III in Hamilton in 2016), voice Kristoff and Sven in Disney’s hit Frozen films, and lead the groundbreaking HBO dramedy Looking as Patrick.

Outside the spheres of musical films and theater, Groff has broken ground as a gay actor by starring in the Netflix crime thriller Mindhunter as Holden Ford and in The Matrix Resurrections as Smith. He was also a lead in M. Night Shyamalan’s Knock at the Cabin last year and will appear in the new season of Doctor Who — starring Ncuti Gatwa as the first Black queer star of the long-running British sci-fi series. “He’s a supernova of talent,” Groff sings of Gatwa; an It’s a Sin fan, he also jumped at the chance to work with Russell T Davies after the showrunner personally invited him to join the season.

This enviable acting career is not what Groff envisioned when he came out publicly in 2009 in an interview with Broadway.com. “I would rather be myself and be in a relationship and not have that compromised by this career thing,” he recalls reasoning at the time — effectively choosing to be himself openly over the possibility of becoming a leading man.

“I felt like I was opting out of that [star] trajectory because of coming out,” he says. “And so everything that’s happened to me with the success of film and television has been a complete surprise to me because I thought…by coming out that that was impossible.”

Groff credits his coming out with saving him from becoming a Frank, who makes a devil’s bargain for material gain. In fact, by appearances, Groff is an anti-Frank. To wit, he arrives via bicycle to his Out photo shoot at the Duplex gay bar in the West Village. He says he even favors riding a bike to the theater each day over an offered car service. Later at Julius’ around the corner, he takes a bite (and then finishes) a burger prepared for a photo op, and then thanks the owner and chef by name. So not the stereotypical fame monster.

“Being gay has allowed me to forge my own path,” he attests. “I don’t feel at the mercy of the traditional Hollywood machine because I never really felt like I fit in there. That equation wasn’t where I lived. And so I’ve just been sort of over here following my artistic heart, which was a choice I made long, long ago. I sort of credit that for not buying into the stuff that Frank in the show kind of buys into.”

Groff calls his success in the entertainment industry “a lucky gift of timing,” noting how he came of age at a turning point for gay acceptance in America — and after the worst of the AIDS crisis in NYC. His speech following each Merrily performance helps raise funds for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, and it “means so much” to him because he is mindful of “all of the gays that came from small towns to move to New York to do theater and how many of them died.” Groff was born in Lancaster, Pa., and was raised amid Amish communities before pursuing his Broadway dreams in the Big Apple.

As a working out actor, “I feel so lucky and I feel some sense of responsibility, of really breathing it in and taking it in,” he confesses. “Even 10 years ago, I don’t know if I would have been cast in this role of Frank, ’cause even in theater, it’s such a straight character.… There’s also something that feels like a shift in the times that’s allowing me to play this role right now as well.”

His casting in such a diversity of roles on stage and screen “feels a part of this wave of progress of people being not only accepting of actors being out, but of actors being able to play multiple different things and not get so pigeonholed…. I’m so grateful to be living in this time.”

Like Patrick, Groff feels like he’s ready for love, in part because Merrily sparks “reflection and embracing an ownership of the past to cross through into the future.” By chance, the same night this writer saw Merrily in April, Groff’s first boyfriend, celebrating a birthday, was also in the audience.

Groff recalls how, at 3.5 years, this relationship remains his longest to date — and one that occurred at a crucial period in his career. Groff dated him from ages 19 to 23 when they were still closeted yet lived as roommates in midtown Manhattan. His ex, who he did not name, is a dancer who helped teach him the choreography for Fame at Crunch Fitness; Groff played Nick Piazza in a regional production at North Shore Music Theatre in Massachusetts. “I was so slow at picking up choreography,” he confesses. But the fancy footwork made a lasting impact. Fame led to Groff being signed by an agent, his membership in the Actors’ Equity Association, and his Broadway debut as an understudy for the lead role in 2005’s In My Life. A year later, he was appearing in Spring Awakening.

“There was something about having him at the show last night,” says Groff, calling it a “full-circle moment.” He adds, “I’ve been single now for a couple of years and I’m feeling…ready and open for anything. If that’s continuing with that, if that’s a relationship, I’m cool with that.”

In addition to the occurrence of a rare NYC earthquake, the day of this Out interview marked another fateful event: the 63rd anniversary of Barbra Streisand making her TV debut on The Tonight Show. Groff appeared on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon to commemorate the occasion. But his Barbra standom doesn’t end there. The actor wants to one day buy a Village restaurant called & Son Steakeasy, which used to be the site of the Lion, a gay bar where Streisand first sang publicly during a singing contest (according to a plaque there, at least). His goal is “turning it back into a gay bar and calling it BARbra.” A neon “BARbra” sign even hangs in his Merrily dressing room as a reminder of this dream.

Other dreams are poised to come true as well. Merrily’s revival is one of the biggest hits on Broadway right now, boasting sold-out shows and one of the Great White Way’s highest ticket prices. It also received seven Tony nominations this year, among them nods for Groff, Radcliffe, and Mendez.

Groff has been Tony-nominated twice before, but the theater world’s highest honor has lost some of its luster from the days when, post-high school, he taught a class on the Tony Awards at a theater camp. (He’d show clips to his pupils and have them vote for Best Actress. Wicked and Avenue Q were contenders that year.)

“When I was a kid, the marker of success was like an Oscar or a Tony or like whatever the award was,” he says. “Now I understand 20 years later that that’s a fun part of the game of it all. But it’s not what makes your artistic heart sing.”

The eschewing of awards recognition is also very anti-Frank. However, Groff also recognizes the importance of a good speech, like the “beautiful and touching and inspirational” words for the LGBTQ+ community that Hamilton’s Lin-Manuel Miranda gave at the Tonys after the Pulse nightclub shooting. If he has the opportunity to give his own remarks onstage, “I’ll attempt to honor whatever is happening in that moment,” he promises.

For now, Groff feels like his character at the end of Merrily, as three starry-eyed young friends look to the skies and imagine what dreams may come. “We gotta be the luckiest people who ever lived,” he quotes.

“I feel that. I really like to be living in this time and working in this way,” he says. “It’s more than I ever could have dreamt of. And so I just wanna soak it in, take it in, and keep going.”

[justallihere]

OMG THE NEW CHAPTER !!!

im just so without words .... u outdid yourself my god!! i have things to say:

Xaden thinks he's funny by being amused that Violet uses him as a pillow but the way he went "no I didn't mean that come here" when Violet tried to leave his arms LMAO. this is what happens when u bag a bad bitch

Violet being offended by not knowing Xaden's bday was coming up is sooo girlfriend coded (even if she's his wife !!) also I just know she was running to get him a present on time like omg I know she was stressed

her taking over his office ?? yeah exactly !! let everyone know who actually runs this place ty !! xaden is just there to make a bad face but violet is the one controlling everything

Xaden cannot physically go a day without kissing his wife like he's so whipped my god they're gonna be so disgusting when they start kissing each other openly (I cant wait)

Xaden was so gagged by Violet's dress as he should !!! wondering how he managed to marry a goddess good thing he worships the ground she walks on

Garrick stop being noisy challenge, in another life he starred in gossip girl

the dance ??!! oh miss violet just know you are soooooo loved

Xaden be like "my wife blaming herself?? for things out of her control?? absolutely not" and I love him for that

Violet basically calling herself Mrs. Riorson !! I have waited for times like these !!! she wants to make sure HE KNOWS she's his wife lest he forgets it

Violet saying she loves him in her own way bc shes not ready for the three words yet *cries* and also Xaden giving her the emotional space she deserves and not demanding anything from her is soo <3<3<3<3<3

the ring .... i know xaden almost cried

I looove god's lore pls give me more

they're so in love they didn't want to go to bed even if they'd still be holding each other in bed they're so pathetic and so in love i love them so much

Also the little detail that he exposes his neck to Violet willingly and doesn't care if she hurts him ??!! i know you were waiting for that moment !! Sgaeyl and Tairn parallels I see you

thank u so much for another beautiful chapter

Thank you!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🫶🏻

All I have to say is: Xaden is down bad, Violet is finally owning the fact that she’s his wife and the queen of Tyrrendor, and they are soulmates. They’re so made for each other I cry

Also Violet/Xaden and Tairn/Sgaeyl parallels live in my head rent free at every hour of the day and I’ll never be normal about it

[ateenyyy]

a day to remember

aka seonghwa making your birthday special against all odds<3

idol!skz x nonidol!femreader

genre: fluff

wordcount: 784

warnings: none really, unless you count loads of cuteness and fluff as another thing wrecking your mental health. i get it, really ; ) and it's not proofread

As the first rays of the sun peeped in through your balcony, all the tiredness you'd accumulated from spending the night watching your newest kdrama obsession suddenly washed over you. You could have sworn it was just 11am five minutes ago.

You checked the time on your laptop. 7:11am, May 8th.

May 8th.

'As in... my birthday?' you wondered. 'Wow, I never knew this day would actually come.'

It wasn't so much the fact that you were indeed another year older that surprised you. It was that this would be the first birthday you would spend alone since you began dating your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa.

Every year, no matter how busy you'd both were, you would always find a way to spend your birthday together. It was never planned deliberately though- you both always just happened to be free on that day. So when Seonghwa called you two days ago to explain that there had been a change of plans and him and the boys had to go out of the country for a few days, one of which was your birthday, you could hardly believe it.

'Well, brooding over it and being sad won't really help me much, will it now?' you thought. You decided that with or without your boyfriend, you were still going to enjoy your day to the fullest.

You called one of your closest friends, Danielle, and practically begged her to go out with you even though you knew she was a homebody through and through.

'Of course I'll come! It's not every day your bestie finally chooses to spend her birthday with you instead of her boyfriend!' she joked. 'Also, even though it isn't for Seonghwa, I think that you dressing up as if you were going for a date will really give you a confidence boost. At least, that's what works for me.'

Following her advice, you settled for a light blue chiffon dress, clinched at the waist with a minimal silver belt, kitten heels, your hair done into a neat bun with some curls falling over your face, and some simple makeup.

'Not bad,' you'd thought, looking at yourself in the mirror.

***

After a hectic day of movies, shopping and binging in restaurants, you finally turned the key to your apartment door. You'd just had one of the most enjoyable days of your life, one that you were sure to never forget. However, your heart still ached for what you'd become used to for the past three years. You couldn't have called if you wanted, because according to your boyfriend, he had shoots from morning to evening and would probably be unable to use his phone much. Still, you were able to send a text or two asking about him. Texts which were still left very much unread.

Ding!

Your notification bell suddenly went off. You sat on the couch in the living room and searched your bag for your phone. Someone had probably sent you an email for work, you assumed, only for you to open your lock screen and be proven completely wrong.

Seonghwa: i'm so so so sorry for not being able to spend your special day with you.

Seonghwa: i hope you were able to have a bit of fun regardless? did you go out?

Seonghwa: thanks for asking how I am, but honestly, I don't think I'll be okay until I see you.

You: dont worry love, you already apologised a million times, and i'll tell you it's okay everytime if i ever need to <3

You: yeah i spent the day with danielle

You: if only i could actually see you right now. that would be THE cherry on top for today.

Seonghwa: well, why don't you let me in?

You: you dont mean...

Seonghwa: yes babe i'm here

It took you a couple of seconds to process that, but before you know it you've run across the living room, flung open the door and enveloped your boyfriend in a bear hug.

'I'm happy to see you too, love. But please would you let me breathe for a bit?' he laughed.

Detaching yourself from him slightly, you started with your questions. 'But, I thought you....'

Cupping your face in his hands, he calmly explained. 'Some things got postponed last minute and we were able to return home a day earlier. So I came as fast as I could to surprise you. I even brought you some presents,' he said, pointing to the two shopping bags he carried, a huge smile on his face.

Forget the not letting him breathe. You hugged him even harder than ever, and he finally admitted defeat and simply hugged you back.

'Happy birthday, love.'

[fratboystrider]

you do it to yourself. just you. you and no one else.

Heartstrings fact for this post: When dude rolled up to St. Valentine’s (the HS he attended) he was paired with a girl named Alex to be roommates. The two hit it off almost immediately. Alex was sent there because she was a problem child. Dude asked to go there because he felt like he was one too. The two quickly became inseparable, doing everthing together like eating lunch, walking to class, even sleeping in the same bed sometimes. They spent every moment they could together. This was, Dude’s first and only friend. The person he felt closest to, and the one who understood him best.

When Dude came to her one day all giddy and told her that he had a crush on a boy you could say Alex’s world shattered around her. Still, she put on a smile. She didn’t really understand why a faceless nameless guy coming into Dude’s life distressed her so much. Of course, this guy was Ezra.

Even after Ezra and Dude got together, Alex and Dude remained friends and roommates though not as close as they once were, because Dude started doing everything with Ezra instead.

Ezra encouraged Dude to thrive and talk to people even just casually. Dude eventually tried out for and joined the cheerleading squad just to have extracurriculars. He really helped Dude thrive the first two years they were together.

Alex however hated Ezra. She wanted him gone. She wanted to see what was so great about him. The three became friends on paper. Three best friends.

Eventually, Ezra graduated a year before Dude. Even though she finally had Dude all to herself again, they never really went back to how things were no matter how hard Alex tried. Dude would always go to Ezra first. There was a canyon where their friendship once was. The three agreed to go to college together at UoH.

I’ll be showing references for Alex and the rest of the cast hopefully soon. They should be up on my patreon by now though.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Broken Record

It all started that first loop, when Smokescreen was branded. Now he is stuck in a loop and absolutely determined to make sure Optimus Prime survives. The only problem? It seems that Primus himself has other plans.

(This thing is bloody LONG so be wary if you decide to start reading. I am not joking this thing is crazy so PLEASE if you are going to read be PREPARED.)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

It was the greatest cycle of Smokescreen’s life when he landed on Earth. There could have been no greater honor than coming to a world and being given the chance to serve directly under the one and only Optimus Prime. And for a few short Earth months, Smokescreen learned and fought alongside the most elite of their kind, growing and coming closer to the team all while being able to interact with the leader of the Autobots. It was a dream come true… until Megatron found their base.

Optimus decided to stay behind. Smokescreen and the rest of the team hated it, Ratchet most of all. But who was he to argue against an order? And so Smokescreen fled when he was told to, at least at first. He could not allow his Prime to die, especially not without honor. And so he threw himself back into the groundbridge, emerging into fire and ash just in time to find Optimus and drag him away with the help of the phase shifter.

It was bad, and even after what had to have been millions of years, Smokescreen recalled the distinctness of that first loop with crisp clarity. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Don’t worry Optimus! I’ll get Ratchet and he’ll patch you right up!” Smokescreen attempted to soothe despite seeing Optimus’s optics flicker more with every nanoklik. This was bad, this was very very bad. He wasn’t trained in this-

“The time for a new leader… is upon us.” Optimus’s voice called out in the darkness, his vocalizer straining with each glyph he uttered. His frame heaved, his battered body failing more every time he vented. Smokescreen wanted to panic, but Optimus’s field washed over him sadly and in understanding. There was something sorrowful in his optics, something that did not seem to be the languishing of a dying mech. His field spoke of… pity for Smokescreen of all beings. Why?

“And I believe in my spark, that… that leader stands before me right now.” What?

“Optimus, I can’t-!” He tried to object, to step away. But Optimus held firm, grabbing his arm with strength a dying mech should not have had. His gaze held a fierceness that Smokescreen could hardly comprehend as the failing Prime again spoke into the darkness, his will so mighty that for a split second, Smokescreen found himself afraid. 

“The will of Primus is absolute. This is the calling, and you cannot escape… none of us can.” Optimus’s field flared, his optics blazing as Smokescreen felt a searing heat creep into his spark. He cried out as he fell to his knees, looking toward Optimus in terror. The Prime however merely gave him a pitying look before he sighed, his vents fluttering before he ultimately fell still, his spark sputtering out.

Smokescreen could only gape as his spark flared in agony, a brand now placed upon it that ached unendingly. Optimus’s broken torso split as the Matrix revealed itself, shining in all its glory. And yet when Smokescreen viewed it, his very being cried out in terror. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want that accursed thing in him. Something deep down within him told him that the relic before him was dangerous.

“No, this isn’t how the story is supposed to go.” He attempted to get up and run, primal fear directing his movements. However when he ran, leaving the body of his Prime behind, something shifted. The brand in his spark burned with such fierceness that by the time Smokescreen managed to track down one of the team, he all but collapsed. He didn't recall what followed perfectly, but he was sure it was Bumblebee who tried to hold him up and figure out what was going on. 

Smokescreen could do nothing as his vision swam and he purged until he had nothing left to give. It BURNED and there was nothing he could do as he heard Optimus's soft voice in the back of his mind and the world became a mess of colors before fading to black.

"The choice is neither yours nor mine to make. When the time comes, the Matrix will choose one who is worthy." 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Just as quickly as it all ended, Smokescreen found his optics booting online again to the sight of his stasis pod opening. He found himself climbing out into a burning crater, unable to figure out what in Primus's name was going on even as Vehicons swarmed his pod. He knew this scene. He had lived this scenario. However he had no time to figure out what was happening as the Autobots arrived with a very much alive Optimus Prime leading the charge. 

He decided not to question as he threw himself into battle, a little wiser and better trained than before. He quickly jumped into formation, flanking Arcee and laying down suppressive fire as she had directed him before. By the time he was finally questioned, Smokescreen found himself in total disbelief. He had watched Optimus die and yet here the Prime was asking for his designation and thanking him for his efforts. Arcee was still as snarky as the first time and Ratchet was firmly sitting in the boat of suspicion. But this was just as things played out before.

"I'm Smokescreen, a member of the elite guard." He stuttered, his optics wide and his spark flaring as the brand pulsed. It ached and all Smokescreen could do was stare up at the mech he thought dead until Bumblebee stepped forward in concern.

"Are you alright? You are leaking coolant." Reaching up to touch his face, Smokescreen found coolant falling from his optics. That wasn't right. Why was he crying? Optimus was alive. It had to have all been some sort of relic induced fever dream. He had been abusing the phase shifter before all this and he had been guarding the Hall of Records. Strange things happened to mech who worked there. Maybe it was doing things to him, giving him visions. 

It couldn't have been real. He refused to believe it was.

"I'm fine. Just a bit out of it. It's not every day you meet Optimus Prime of all bots!" He shelved his memory and forced himself to smile. Arcee glared, Ratchet scoffed, Bulkhead nodded, and Bumblebee got back in position. Optimus for his part merely made a soft sound, his optics glinting before he ordered a groundbridge back to base, regardless of Arcee and Ratchet's complaints. 

Smokescreen simply smiled. The brand burned, but he did his best not to feel it. Everything had just been a bad dream. It was all going to be fine now. He would use what he knew to his advantage, and this time, he would ensure Optimus Prime survived.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

He did his best to warn his Prime without putting too much faith in his vision. He directed the team away from dangers and jumped into the fray with more wisdom than before. Nothing changed all that much, but there were a few less scars than in his vision and that was a small relief. Despite Smokescreen's efforts, Megatron found their base again. It was not ideal, but this time Smokescreen knew how damaged Optimus would be. He couldn't get Optimus to change his decision, he knew that much. But if he could get Ratchet to stick with him, then he could stop the devastation he knew was coming. 

"Ratchet, he's going to survive the blast, but he won't last much longer afterwards. He needs a medic on call." Smokescreen murmured as he pulled Ratchet aside. The medic gave him a sharp look, seemingly about to say something snippy before Smokescreen shushed him.

"Listen to me! You won't believe me if I tell you, but I know what is going to happen. The blast will hit, the Cons will arrive, and Optimus will survive for a few more days after the attack." Ratchet's optics blew wide, his field radiating pure suspicion. Smokescreen grabbed the medic's shoulders, trying to convey his conviction as much as he possibly could. Ratchet was a hard nut to crack, but not impossible.

"Are you a traitor? Is that how you know what's coming? Did the guilt of knowing eat you up inside? Is that why you are telling me this now that it's too late to stop our base from being destroyed?!" Ratchet's voice raised as the ceiling shook. It wouldn't be long now. 

"You just need to trust me! I'm no Con, but I saw the future! So please, listen to me!" Optimus and the rest of the team began to return back into the base through the elevator shaft. Smokescreen could only curse as he hurriedly hissed.

"There is a cave system under the base not far from here! I will take Optimus there after the blast hits! Meet me there with your medical kit!" The sound of blaster fire and the team rushing into base had Smokescreen pulling away, but before he left, he did his best to nod toward Ratchet and pray that his words were taken to spark. The medic glared, but his servos shook enough that Smokescreen could hope.

He was right to hope. When Smokescreen pulled Optimus from the ash this time, Ratchet arrived not an hour later and began to dutifully tend to the ailing Prime. It was bad enough that even the medic seemed to be on the brink of a mental breakdown, but as wounds were welded shut and energon siphoned into Optimus's battered frame, Smokescreen found himself hopeful. Things were still rough, but Optimus wasn't about to die anymore. They could make this work-

"Smokescreen." Optimus called out from where he lay on the ground, Ratchet still fussing over him. The medic stilled and Smokescreen paused as the brand burned. Coolant began to fall from Ratchet's optics as his scanners blared. 

"No no no, Optimus please no." Ratchet pleaded, his voice edging into static as he desperately tried to weld more wounds shut and repair the extensive damage to Optimus's systems. Smokescreen shook his helm, this couldn't be possible. He had made things better. His vision couldn't have been real. He was meant to stop this from happening. 

"The time for a new leader... is upon us." The same line. The same look. Optimus stared at him in understanding and again Smokescreen found himself afraid. This wasn't right. Optimus wasn't meant to die.

"Not again! I am not doing this again! I am not letting you die, Optimus!" Smokescreen cried out even as the Prime repeated that same pitying stare. Smokescreen did not wait for the inevitable as his brand burned. He ran faster than he ever had before as Ratchet wept behind him. He wouldn't stay, he wouldn't wait for what was now a certainty.

He ran until he could run no more, falling somewhere in Nevada far from Darkmount. His processors screamed at him to return to the team, but as he lay on the ground, the brand burning just as hot as it had in his vision... he knew that was no longer an option. Optimus was dead. He had failed. As his vision began to swim once more, he found conviction lacing his very being.

This was not how the story was meant to end. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Again he found himself coming online to meet the familiar sight of his stasis pod. This time, he wobbly emerged. He looked around in disbelief, glancing down at his servos and the Vehicons surrounding him in absolute fear. He was back again. There was no way that was all just a vision.

When the team arrived, he was too shaken to help. He hid within his stasis pod, watching the fighting playing out from within. Vehicons were shot at until they fled, and despite feeling like a coward, Smokescreen remained huddled up in the only space he knew to be safe until at last the team neared. From the inside, Smokescreen could see them arguing over whether or not to open his pod. Smokescreen made the decision for them with unsteady digits. 

"A youngling." Optimus mused as the pod opened and Smokescreen's shaking form became visible. He tried to still his movements, but his vents came in broken sputters and he could hardly move with how much it all was. He was back again. HOW was he back again?

"Part of the Elite Guard based on his badge, although he doesn't look the part." Arcee taunted, her blasters lowered but still ready to turn him into scrap metal if Smokescreen acted out of line. The rest of the team made similar comments, all appearing highly unimpressed. Smokescreen wished he could speak in his defense, but he was shaking too much. His spark ached, the brand still burned, but it was easing. The fragging brand had to have something to do with this. Whatever Optimus did to him the first time had changed him, he could feel lit.

"Youngling, you are safe with us. Can you tell me your designation?" Optimus knelt down and reached into the pod, offering a servo to help Smokescreen up. It was all so very wrong, but Smokescreen accepted the aid and stood before the team, trying desperately to find his voice. He was back again, he didn't know how, but he was. And if he was back-

He could change things.

"Sorry Sir. I was... not expecting my arrival here on Earth. I'm Smokescreen, an elite guardsmech." He saluted, but he did not smile. This was no laughing matter, not anymore. What he thought to be some sort of dream last time was evidently something else entirely. He refused to fail again. 

"I will not fail you." He bowed, his oath flowing from his vocalizer smoothly despite the way his doorwings still twitched. He was going to make things right or die trying. Maybe then whatever this was would come to an end.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I want you to teach me to fight." Smokescreen proclaimed as he stood before the team. Bulkhead paused, Miko silenced her guitar with a strange look, and the other two children glanced over at him. Arcee glared, an act he had long grown used to, and Bumblebee's faux vocalizer whirled in confusion. 

"You fight well enough to hold your own. What brought this up?" Arcee questioned as she crossed her arms. She didn't seem upset but rather intrigued. This time around Smokescreen had not made the best of impressions considering his hiding away in his pod. But he knew what he needed to do now. He needed to be better, fight harder. Then he could turn the tides and hopefully make it so that the team's base didn't get discovered at all. 

"You are all elites. I want to know everything I can so that we don't lose any more good mecha due to my idiocy." A few raised optics ridges met his statement, but none outright rejected him. A long silence followed before Arcee made a hum of understanding and nodded.

"I'll teach you what I can. Just don't die rookie. I won't be going easy on you." The two wheeler smiled for the first time since Smokescreen's arrival. He returned it with glee. Finally, he could begin trying harder to make things right. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Learning under Arcee was its own form of torture, but Smokescreen was devoted. When he wasn't training, he was reviewing his memory to prepare for what was to come. Battle after battle met him and each time he walked away more skilled. He was no longer the barely trained recruit who arrived on Earth two loops ago. 

He moved faster, utilizing his size and the phase shifter to his advantage. Arcee became a close friend, at least as much as one could call Arcee that. She was there to guide him, and when he started working himself toward exhaustion, she was there to smack him back down to earth and give him a reality check. She cared about him in her own strange way, and Smokescreen appreciated it. Every smile she offered told him he was improving, and for the first time he felt as though he was really part of the team, if only because Arcee approved.

"I thought you were just a skittish deadweight, but you've proven me wrong." Arcee patted him on the back after a training session well done. Smokescreen grinned even as the brand ached. Soon, the time for the Cons to attack was coming. As he threw himself against a training dummy, he felt that maybe this time, he would be ready.

He was wrong. Despite his efforts and the additional victories for the Autobots, Megatron found their base again. He had no clue how the fragger did it, but somehow, regardless of whether or not Smokescreen gave up the base's location by accident, their whereabouts found their way to Megatron. Optimus stayed behind, and again Smokescreen pulled him from the ash. This time he tried something different, running to Darkmount to attempt to reclaim the forge of Solus Prime.

He tried to get it the first time around, but it had meant so little in his shock that he had forgotten to use it. This time he would not make that mistake, especially not now that it had been proven not even Ratchet could repair his Prime. But by the time he dragged the relic back to where Optimus again lay dying, the Prime once more gave him that pitying look that Smokescreen was quickly coming to associate with failure. 

"Optimus! I brought the forge! It'll fix you up good as new!" Smokescreen pressed the hilt of the forge into Optimus's servo, but the Prime shook his helm in distress.

"The time for a new leader... is upon us." Frag it all. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Smokescreen didn't hear the rest as Optimus's spark went out. He grit his denta, feeling rage run hot in his spark alongside the brand. He was doing something wrong. He had to be.

Twenty eight more loops Smokescreen threw himself into training. He was inadequate, and that he could fix. He learned under all of the team, doing everything in his power to train and become better. The novelty of waking up in his pod stopped shaking him sometime around the fifth loop and from that point onward, he moved directly into his next plan as soon as he was able to. Sometimes he learned under Arcee, trying to squeeze all the training he could from her and doing his best not to think about their lost friendship. Other times he worked with Bulkhead, learning the ways of strength and training with a hammer instead of a blaster. In a few instances he served alongside Bumblebee, learning the ways of the scout and exemplifying his already present skill with speed and stealth. 

There were moments of levity amongst it all. Times when he would play video games with Bee and laugh until his vents ached. He missed those times most, especially the handful of loops where they became friends. Sometimes he would banter with Arcee, enjoying the short victories he earned before Arcee shot back at him. He missed her snark and fond chastising, more so during loops where he threw himself into training with another. Occasionally he even spent time with Bulkhead, reveling in dealing with the children and causing a degree of chaos. The Wrecker was not a mech Smokescreen would have normally befriended, but during the loops he worked with him, Bulkhead was a good teacher and Smokescreen enjoyed the stories the elder mech told.

The children themselves were plenty fun to converse and play with. Jack he found he had the most interesting interactions with. More than one loop he helped the boy get revenge on his bully. Miko was entertaining and quite a few times during his loops he ended up joining her collection of favorite bots due to his increasing skill in battle. Rafael and him never really got along, they had different focuses, but he came to appreciate the child. There were several instances where he spent quiet nights up with the boy, ready to take him home as soon as he finished attempting to decode Cybertronian glyphs. He tried not to think about those lost moments when he started the loop over again. 

It was never enough. Every single time he always ended up at Optimus's side after the destruction of the base listening to that same line over and over again. Sometimes he dragged Optimus farther away to different locations, wondering if that would change anything. On other occasions, he left Ratchet with Optimus and went with the team to raid Darkmount alongside the mighty Ultra Magnus. That too was never enough. Optimus always died, and soon after he did, Smokescreen found himself once more in his pod. 

It enraged him, but it taught him a lesson. Fighting would not save Optimus Prime. He needed to try something else. And so he instead turned to Ratchet. The doctor was one of Cybertron's finest, but he was only one set of servos. If they could repair Optimus after the blast, then all would be well. As such, when Smokescreen awoke for the twenty ninth time, he went directly to Ratchet. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You want to become a field medic? You are a guardsmech." Ratchet looked him up and down, that same disgruntled expression on his face as always. Smokescreen nodded, his conviction thrumming through his entire being. He'd already attempted battle as a means to fix things, and that had failed. Being a medic was the next best option. 

"I know that. But the team come back injured far more often than they should and you only have one set of servos." Smokescreen pointed out with a raised optical ridge. Ratchet tisked and looked ready to object until Optimus spoke up.

"I see no harm in Smokescreen learning the art of medicine. You are overworked and we could use the additional skill, Old Friend." The Prime rested his servos on his hips, smiling fondly at Ratchet who waved dismissively even as he covered his face in what could have been embarrassment. Optimus chuckled softly as he continued.

"You have trained plenty of apprentices. What is the harm in one more? Smokescreen has already proven capable of fighting if need be. We would not be losing a soldier and would instead gain an additional medic." Ratchet grumbled, but after a moment, he sighed and shoved a series of datapads in Smokescreen's arms.

"Read all of those and come back when you can identify all outer components of the Cybertronian frame. If you can do that, then I will know you really want to do this." Smokescreen internally winced, but he did as he was told. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

That loop he learned under Ratchet, and while he was not skilled enough to save Optimus that time, he did not despair. Again and again he returned, devoting himself to his task. When he had free time he trained in combat just so that he wouldn't lose what he'd gained, but almost everything else was put away in favor of his medical training. He missed conversing and bonding with the others, but Ratchet was a good teacher, if a little gruff.

The cycles repeated, but every time, Smokescreen learned a little more about the medic who came to be a mentor to him. His education progressed, and he understood more and more why Ratchet was so very tired. Too many loops ended with one of the team coming close to death, and in one loop, even offlining permanently. Ratchet worked himself half to death just to keep the group operating, and for that, Smokescreen came to respect him. At first, he could hardly handle the sight of wriggling internals, but as he continually worked with Ratchet, he calmed. He stopped being concerned by the sight of innards strewn across the ground or energon spilled after the forty third loop. He watched bots die, he put torn limbs back into place, and he was no stranger to plague.

Most loops followed the same old tune, but every now and then, there were differences. Optimus always died, but the small differences taught Smokescreen valuable lessons. Serving under the doctor gave him ample time to learn and observe. He was familiar with the team and their past from his time training with them in prior loops, but working as a medic gave him greater insight. Arcee had aches in her joints from being stuck in the arctic. Bulkhead's hydraulics sometimes locked up when he tried to stand too quickly. Bumblebee's vocalizer always bothered him, and Ratchet himself had enough aches and pains that Smokescreen had to question how the medic still functioned. Optimus's medical files were extensive enough to have Smokescreen simply put them down quite a few times.

He learned, he grew, and loops passed by in a blur.

To learn of the war and its origins as he cleaned tools in the medical bay was by far one of his most favored memories with Ratchet. Odd as it was working in the dark and listening to Ratchet talk, Smokescreen cherished it. The conversations distracted him from the loss of friendships that plagued his mind. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You would hardly believe how much Optimus has changed over the vorns. Before the Matrix, he was a bit like you. Not much mind you, he had more political awareness." A slight jab, but Smokescreen did not react. He had long grown used to Ratchet's manner of speech. 

"He was a cunning character, that's for sure. He walked on a knife's edge all throughout his time in the Archives. But after the Matrix, something changed in him." Ratchet stalled in what he was doing, his shoulders falling. Smokescreen looked up from where he was putting away the scalpels he was tending to, his fresh medical insignia glinting in the light. This was the eighth time Ratchet had deemed him skilled enough to bear the mark.

"He looked at everyone strangely. He stopped trying to connect with anyone. He seemed almost... defeated. I tried asking him about it, but the only answer I managed to get out of him was that the Matrix put him through a trial when he took it." The elder medic scowled and Smokescreen listened attentively. All details were important. He couldn't afford to waste what Ratchet was giving him. Building up trust with the medic in each loop was a time consuming affair. 

"Do you know what the trial was?" Smokescreen asked cautiously. Talking with Ratchet required a degree of skill. Too informal and he wouldn't get anything, but being too formal had earned him the status of co-worker rather than confidant. He needed this information.

"No. All he's said is that every Prime goes through it so that they make the 'correct' choice." Smokescreen paused as the words reached him. What was it Optimus said during the first loop?

"The choice is neither yours nor mine to make. When the time comes, the Matrix will choose one who is worthy." He murmured to himself. Ratchet all but did a complete 180 to turn and face him, suspicion written all over his features.

"What was that?" The medic questioned sharply. Smokescreen waved him off.

"Nothing important. Just some old script I read." He had long become proficient in the art of warding Ratchet off. Besides, in the worst case scenario, he could just rebuild the relationship by making the correct verbal statements next time. 

"Old script my aft. You are keeping secrets Smokescreen. I don't know what they are, but... I am here if you want someone to listen." Ratchet's field brushed over him in a fond manner. The doctor offered a rare smile and Smokescreen found his resolve shaken. Who would believe him if he spoke? Besides, Ratchet was already overworked enough.

"Maybe next loop." He whispered as he turned back to his work. Ratchet's concern washed over him, but the doctor did not pry. It was both a comfort and a curse.

Loops passed by, and every time he returned, he came with more knowledge and maturity. No longer did he find himself as energetic as before, likely an effect of Ratchet rubbing off on him. What used to leave him thrilled meant so little. He enjoyed praise and comfort from the team when he developed friendships during a loop, however, he simply wasn't as active. Patience was his priority and greatest asset... no matter how much it hurt to return again and again only to lose the bonds he formed. 

Even still, the mission came first.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I find it hard to believe you were a guardsmech before this, Smokescreen. You have the skill to rival Ambulon prior to the war." Ratchet commented as he watched Smokescreen patch up Bulkhead's shredded arm. The Wrecker made a noise of agreement even as Smokescreen swatted him for trying to scratch at a fresh weld.

"I've been trained by the best doctor on Cybertron. I pin all of my success on him." Ratchet raised an optical ridge with an almost coy smile. 

"Oh? And who would that be? I doubt Pharma would take an apprentice like you." Smokescreen knew this game. He returned the smile, and Bulkhead froze up on the medical berth. 

"Guys?" The Wrecker called out before promptly attempting to claw at his welds again. Smokescreen smacked him upside the helm without even looking away from Ratchet. Bulkhead for his part cursed as Smokescreen spoke.

"Would you believe me if I said that I learned everything from you?" Ratchet scoffed and rolled his optics. 

"Don't be ridiculous. You've been here a few weeks at most. Even I didn't learn that fast in medical school." The elder medic wandered off to do something or other, and Smokescreen returned to his task mechanically. It wouldn't be much longer now. Soon he would have enough skill to fix Optimus.

He waited, and finally during the sixty seventh loop, Smokescreen felt confident.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Smokescreen? What are you doing?" Bumblebee asked, his optics cycling in worry. Smokescreen did not look up at him as he feverishly reviewed his tools. Weeks had been spent working up to this moment. He had patches, faux fuel lines, energon packs, replacement parts stolen from deceased Vehicons, and so much more. He was going to do it right this time. Optimus Prime was going to live. 

"I'm going to make sure Optimus lives." He answered honestly. He saw no point in playing pretend. When the loops ended and all was well, he would tell the team about his experiences. But for now, there was no use worrying them with things they couldn't do anything about.

"This isn't healthy. Ever since you got here, you've been... on edge." Smokescreen wanted to glare, but he kept his optics firmly on his tools as he loaded them into his pack. The phase shifter thrummed against his arm and he checked it over, ensuring it wouldn't go anywhere. Everything relied on his skill and the relic.

"I have work to do. I refuse to fail." He replied curtly, unwilling to bother with the details. It wasn't worth the effort anyway. However, when he turned to leave, he was met with the towering form of Optimus Prime blocking his path. The rest of the team loosely circled him, their gazes uncertain.

"You've been taking rations from storage and behaving suspiciously, Smokescreen." Optimus watched him critically, and for the first time, Smokescreen found himself looking around to see the team's equally calculating gazes. He hadn't been the most social this time, but he wasn't that suspicious, was he?

"I am not taking them for my personal gain, Sir. I am preparing for what is coming, and I will ensure that we come out on top of this war. You may not believe me, but I am not asking you to." Optimus's optics cycled, and his helm tilted as he thought. The brand on Smokescreen's spark flared as the Prime before him seemed to reach a conclusion.

"So it has chosen you... I understand now. Continue with your work, I will not impede your efforts." Just like that, Optimus walked away. The team gawked, and Smokescreen did so as well. What in Primus's name did that mean?

━━━━━━━━━━━━

He tried not to think about it, not when the time was so close. When Megatron finally destroyed the base, Smokescreen again dragged Optimus from the rubble. Only this time, he was fully prepared. With Ratchet coerced into joining him, he worked alongside his teacher in the dark of the tunnel system beneath the base to repair the ailing Prime. Ratchet did not question his preparations and instead got to work in silence. Wounds were shut, fuel lines sewn back into place, cables tied to their appropriate skeletal structures, and constant scans were run.

They worked like a well oiled machine, and Smokescreen at last allowed himself to feel giddy as he managed to get the worst of the damage closed off. According to all his calculations, Optimus would at least have another Earth year in him, so long as he remained still and received energon supplements. He was no longer critical, he was going to be fine. Years upon years and loops upon loops were finally yielding results-

"Smokescreen... How long has your trial gone on?" What?

"I don't understand." Smokescreen replied in confusion as the Prime's venting eased. Ratchet was passed out on the ground nearby, long groons of work exhausting him to the point of being forced into recharge. It was just Smokescreen and the Prime, and somehow that made the situation so much worse.

"You know more than you should... you are trained more than what I would have expected... I know these signs... I know what the trials look like." Optimus gently held Smokescreen's servo, his gaze again returning to that pitying look that Smokescreen feared and despised.

"Optimus, you are still in recovery. You must be a little disoriented." He tried to divert the conversation, but the Prime held firm, his optics cycling down and his gaze sharpening.

"How long?" The question hung in the air. Smokescreen's spark fluttered in terror as the brand burned and Optimus remained stony. He was unyielding. Smokescreen could not find it in himself to deny the question.

"Sixty nine loops. They start with my arrival on Earth and end when you die." Tortured venting filled the tunnels as Optimus began to tense up. On instinct, Smokescreen began running scans and preparing his tools. But again, Optimus grabbed his arm, just as he had in the first loop so long ago.

"You cannot stop this. It will continue until you give in." Optimus's optics flickered and his voice weakened.

"There is no escape." The Prime's field flared and Smokescreen cowered as his spark blazed in agony.

"This is the will of Primus." Optimus uttered before his entire frame seized up and fell still. Ratchet startled awake as his alarm blared, but it was too late. Smokescreen stepped back and watched on in total silence as Ratchet tried everything to restore Optimus's frame and force his spark to continue to blaze. 

Optimus told him to give up, to let him die. After so many long years and countless hours thrown into his training? No, Smokescreen would not be giving up. He was going to save Optimus Prime, whether the Prime liked it or not. He made a promise, and he was going to keep it. 

He woke in his pod, but this time, Smokescreen's processors whirled with a new plan. He had written off trying to keep Optimus from sacrificing himself simply because he thought it would be impossible to convince him. That was likely still true, but Smokescreen was wiser now. If he could get the team to listen, he could make this work.

Again, he was accepted amongst the Autobots without much argument. Optimus took one look at him and allowed him access. He was far more agreeable than the first loop, but Smokescreen was different now. A trained warrior and medic, he had skills that put him on par with the rest of the team. It made sense for the Prime to allow him amongst the ranks of the team. 

It certainly saved Smokescreen trouble. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"The Star Saber is on Earth and Megatron will arrive to try and take it. He will not succeed, but if he knows how powerful the blade is, he will create his own weapon. The Dark Star Saber." Smokescreen rattled off what he knew as he stood before the team, his expression steely. 

"How do you know that?" Arcee's question came off as more of a threat, but Smokescreen remained unfazed. He knew the team far better than they would ever know. 

"I have seen what is coming. I know exactly what the Decepticons are going to do and how they will do it. I know every possible variable for the most important events ahead, and I can tell you now that unless you listen to me, you will lose." The team froze, Optimus regarded him with something akin to shock, and Smokescreen stood firmly. He would make them listen, no matter the cost.

"So you're a Con?" Bulkhead all but growled before charging forward, not heeding Optimus's command to stand down. Smokescreen did not so much as flinch as he tucked and rolled, bouncing back onto his pedes and dropping down into a combat position. The Wrecker huffed and came at him again, but every time he swung his hammers, Smokescreen moved out of the way with expert precision. He knew Bulkhead better than the Wrecker knew himself. He trained under the heavy hitter and performed enough examinations over the loops to know each and every seam by spark.

"Enough. You are wasting your time." Slipping under Bulkhead's arm, Smokescreen landed a solid punch to the exposed cabling on his shoulder. Bulkhead's arm immediately went limp, and he fell to a knee, clutching the limb and looking up at him in anger.

"You little-!" Glaring, Smokescreen walked away from the cursing Wrecker and again stood his ground. 

"I mean you no harm. I am only here to help you escape the doom that is coming. So please, listen to me." The team had their weapons ready, all save for Optimus who regarded him in interest. Smokescreen prepared to run if he needed to, but he had no intention of leaving until he got what he wanted.

"Stand down. We will listen to what he has to say." The Prime spoke and the team gawked.

"Optimus, you can't be serious!" Ratchet began before he was silenced.

"We will heed his wisdom for a time and see what it brings." That was the end of that. Smokescreen grinned, and he was quick to begin further explanations. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

He had not fully expected things to work out during his first attempt at piloting the team. As such, he did not despair when he failed to keep the team out of trouble the first time. There were always new variables, always new data points to consider. Loops came and went. Sometimes Megatron found the base earlier, and sometimes he did so later. Optimus always died in the tunnels in those loops. Other times, Smokescreen managed to convince the team to drag Optimus kicking and screaming away when the blast rained down. In those instances, the Prime was always killed by a stray bullet or through some other totally unexpected means.

It was infuriating, but Smokescreen learned and he adapted. Again and again he tried different things, moving the team in different ways and trying to avoid any and all potential causes of death for the Prime. However, as the deaths added up, there was a need for him to begin recording his thoughts and plans.

He began to keep a log each loop, just to ensure he didn't miss anything. And through those efforts, he found himself working alongside Optimus at the main console far more often than he anticipated. It was unsettling the first few loops, with Optimus often just standing by watching in silence. However, as the loops wore on and Smokescreen grew more and more passive as he worked, Optimus crept closer. Eventually, during the one hundredth and fifty seventh loop, Optimus spoke to him.

"You carry the weariness of the trial. I assume this is far from your first time experiencing these things." Smokescreen, no longer surprised by just about anything, nodded once and kept up his typing. Optimus hummed as he continued.

"You aren't willing to give in. I understand. I behaved similarly during my trial." Again, Smokescreen said nothing. He had no clue what this 'trial' was, but frankly he didn't care. The 'trial' wanted Optimus to die, and so Smokescreen would give it the middle finger regardless of the specifics of its nature. 

"I would like to teach you." That gave Smokescreen pause. He looked away from the screen, only now feeling the weariness hanging on his very core. Optimus smiled gently and placed a servo on his shoulder.

"I did not have the luxury of a teacher during my trial. I wish to give you what knowledge I have, so that when yours ends, you may perform better than I did." Confusion laced every part of Smokescreen's mind even as he processed the words. Optimus, with far more kindness than Smokescreen had ever seen him, drew Smokescreen in for a hug. 

He remained stiff for a klik, but as tears began to fall from his optics, he leaned into the Prime's embrace. It had been so long since he allowed himself to be cared for, to feel. The mission always came first... and yet in Optimus's arms, he found himself safe and comforted. He couldn't help his tears.

"I will not remember you when you come back, but speak the words you were imbued with when you were given the brand, and I shall know what you are." Comforting touches to his helm had Smokescreen nodding even as he sobbed. Oh, how it hurt. So many deaths, so many loops. The same cycle, never-ending. He hated it.

"I wish that it was not you who was chosen to bear this burden, but there is nothing that can be done now." The words hurt, but Smokescreen understood. Whatever this trial was, Optimus was familiar with it. The Prime knew and understood. He refused to believe that there was nothing he could do to change Optimus's fate, but he would relish what comfort he was given.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

He continued attempting to pilot the team, guiding them around the various key events he now knew as well as his own designation. He failed to save Optimus each time, but he did not allow himself to give up. Every instance was recorded and each time he returned, he rewrote his records. Somewhere there was a set of choices that would ensure Optimus lived, and Smokescreen was going to find it or die trying.

"Speak with confidence, Smokescreen. A leader must be able to convince those under him to follow a cause even to death." Optimus was a distraction in the extreme. Ever since that loop, Optimus had taken the time to teach Smokescreen everything under the sun whenever there was a spare moment between them. He should have really stopped allowing Optimus to teach him, but he couldn't help but crave the attention and understanding.

"Broaden your brushstrokes. The Praxian dialect requires less formality and more elegance." Language, culture, and history were a part of every loop now. Evenings once spent training with the team or under Ratchet were instead dedicated to study of Cybertron and the ways of rulership under the Prime. Smokescreen quite frankly enjoyed every single lesson. There was always something new to learn, and he never ceased to marvel at the stories despite his general apathy toward life in general. 

"That strategy would work in most cases, but you must consider all the variables. Let us review the battle for Kaon and the siege of Iacon to review." War tactics that Smokescreen might have found boring long ago were now the staple of his life. He loved every lesson, and he adored the fact that despite the rest of the team failing to remember their bonds, Optimus remained static. As soon as Smokescreen uttered the words and mentioned what the Prime taught him, Optimus would immediately ask how far his education had progressed and work from there. 

It was a comfort. However, with every loop, his agitation grew into boiling anger. None of the variables were working. His calculations always came out wrong. Every combination of choices led to Optimus's death, regardless of what was done. The forge's usage meant nothing, the deaths of teammates were irrelevant, and it seemed as though nothing could be done to stop the most impossible slag from killing Optimus if he didn't die after the blast struck the base.

It accumulated until Smokescreen could take it no longer.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three hundred and seventy three loops. None were successful. HOW were none of them successful?! He had done EVERYTHING.

"Why won't you live?" He murmured as he was brought back to the base for what felt like the billionth time. The team looked at him in confusion, but Optimus understood. He always understood.

"It is inevitable." The Prime answered simply as if he were talking about the weather. Smokescreen, despite being long hardened by every imaginable outcome and horror, scowled and flared his plating before clamping it down tight around him.

"I've done EVERYTHING, Optimus! Every possible variable! Every conceivable set of choices! I have made them all! WHY WON'T YOU LIVE!?" He cried as tears pooled in his optics. How hard was it for a mech to be kept alive? Evidently, if the mech was Optimus, it was fragging impossible.

"You always speak of this fragging trial and tell me to give in, but HOW CAN I DO THAT!? You are the PRIME! We need you! How can I just let you DIE?!" His vocalizer strained, and his voice dipped into static as he screamed. Everything had reached a boiling point, and he was unable to stop the stream of tears that poured down his cheeks as Optimus ushered the team back and stepped forward, kneeling down to Smokescreen's level.

"You must make the correct choice, Smokescreen. This torment will not end until you do. There is nothing in this universe capable of defying the will of the divine." Smokescreen wanted to scream more, but in the end all he could do was cling to Optimus uselessly as the Prime drew him in for a hug. 

He heard the team murmuring as Optimus took him to an unused hab, the one that always ended up being given to him. Optimus stayed with him as he cried and blabbered, pouring out all his woes and his anger. He told Optimus everything, not sparing anything as he described the pain of lost bonds and the frustration of never being able to win. All the while, Optimus hummed a simple song until at last recharge took him.

He did not get up when the dawn came. He didn't want to. He stayed in his hab and huddled in the corner. Why should he care what the team thought of him? It was useless anyway. The only time he did much other than lie around and lament life was when Optimus brought him energon and coaxed him into drinking. He didn't want to fuel. He wanted it to be over.

Eventually, Ratchet started to bring him energon as well. Part of Smokescreen languished in the guilt of being a deadweight, but he was too tired to care. Optimus never shouted or scolded him. Ratchet made attempts to talk him through it, but Smokescreen remained silent. There was no point. It made no difference anyway.

The loop ended as it always did, and Smokescreen was dragged out of the base by the team despite his uselessness. They treated him kindly even while on the run, trying to help him even as his vision began to swim.

“Smokescreen, can you look at me? Please, we need you to be aware.” Ratchet knelt in front of him, true grief etched onto his features. He needed hope, but Smokescreen had nothing to offer.

“There is no point. He always dies, and he always will. I’ve tried everything.” Smokescreen muttered into his arms as he sat curled up in the junkyard Ratchet had hauled him to. The medic rubbed his face, trying to hide tears as he attempted to stay composed.

“I don’t understand Smokescreen. We need to get back to the team before the Decepticons-” Ratchet went on about a variable Smokescreen had already considered to the point of true apathy, but the mention of the Decepticons caught his attention. 

The Decepticons.

What a fool he was. They were the one variable he had never considered properly. He’d tried moving the team to his specifications, but he had not even so much as attempted to touch the source of the problem to begin with. 

“You have given me a new variable to test out.” Smokescreen managed a crooked smile as his vision continued to swim. Ratchet looked at him in absolute confusion, but Smokescreen merely chuckled.

“You are so going to hate me for this, but this next run, I am going to become a Con.” The elder medic looked absolutely baffled, but in his emotional turmoil Smokescreen merely laughed.

Finally, a new variable to consider. He could still prove Optimus wrong and save the fragging Prime from a universe that seemed dead set on killing him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The loop began and Smokescreen steeled himself. This was going to suck big time, but at this point, there was no other option. 

“Soldier, what are you doing?” Optimus called out to him, but Smokescreen merely stood in the center of the crater coldly. He needed to play the part to make this happen. As much as he despised it, this was the only choice he had.

“My allegiance is to Lord Megatron of the Decepticons.” Raising his blasters, Smokescreen fired on the team. He took care not to hit any of them, as Vehicons finally saw that he was an ally and joined him on the battlefield, pushing the team back. The expressions of shock on their faces hurt him more than he thought, but this was what needed to be done.

The Decepticons were rightfully dubious, but he was brought to the Nemesis, where he knelt before Megatron. It felt foul to do so, but after so many loops… there was little he would not do for the sake of his mission. 

“An elite guardsmech betraying the Autobots to come to me. That seems too good to be true, don’t you think so, Starscream?” Smokescreen remained in his kneeled position, but his sensors blared as he noticed the Lord of Vos nearing him. The skinny flier smiled evilly before strutting toward Megatron’s side.

“Indeed my lord. Not to mention, this reeks of a trap . A grounder has little use to the Decepticon cause anyway.” Frag-

“Then I believe it is decided. I have no need of you guardsmech.” Smokescreen only had time to regret his life decisions before he was face to face with a blaster and promptly knew no more.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Again, he was in his fragging. POD. 

It seemed that not even death could save him, and evidently, Megatron would not be easy to fool.

“What is your name, soldier?” Ah, there it was again. Smokescreen stood stiffly before the Autobot leader, the one he was trying so slagging hard to save. He sighed and gave his designation for the millionth time as plans formed in his processor. This was going to take far more work than he thought… but he could be patient. He’d long ago mastered the art.

There was a great deal of trial and error involved in the recruitment process. He had to get very good at remaining inconspicuous. Since death was apparently no longer an issue for him, Smokescreen took more risks over the next few dozen loops. He attempted the rushed recruitment a few more times before becoming acutely familiar with the pain of getting his helm blown off and promptly deciding that it wasn’t worth it in that manner.

From there he developed a plan to move slowly. Getting in contact with the Cons was not hard at all, and becoming an inside agent was even easier. He took absolutely no joy in feeding information to the Decepticons, but he needed an in. So when the relics came into play, it was the best information he could give without jeopardizing the team.

Not that it mattered much. He just needed to exploit this variable until Optimus survived. Then he could deal with the fallout. Even still, it took a hundred or so loops before he managed to find just the right line to walk. If he was too eager, the Cons would kill him on account of suspicion. If he didn’t tread carefully enough, the Bots would get him. He was not exactly the most pleased when Ratchet killed him once after catching him. Arcee cut him down a few times. Bulkhead was too heavy to land a hit and Bee generally didn’t aim to kill, but both still slagging hurt . Not to mention, he never enjoyed having to off himself afterwards in order to reset things.

Perhaps it was an abuse of the loop, but he simply didn’t care. Wounds hurt less now that he knew it wouldn’t matter anyway. He hated betraying his fellows, but they wouldn’t remember in the end, just like they didn’t remember the bonds they forged over so many cycles.

Optimus found out he was a double agent every single time, though. Smokescreen had no clue how the Prime did it, but as soon as Smokescreen began negotiations with Megatron, the Prime was onto him. However, he never stopped Smokescreen, not once. He never helped, that much was for sure. Yet, he would still teach Smokescreen as if nothing were different about him. The lessons continued, and Optimus took the time to give Smokescreen access to spy training videos left behind by Jazz before the Exodus. 

He didn’t like thinking about how much it must have hurt Optimus to watch Smokescreen do what he did. Smokescreen didn’t like thinking about the team much at all anymore. 

Finally, after what was likely over eight hundred loops, Smokescreen managed to swap sides with reasonable credibility. He gave Megatron the location of relics and sabotaged the team in a manner that wasn’t really meaningful. Bulkhead would walk off the burns, and Arcee was small enough that being chucked wouldn’t be all that bad. Walking onto the Nemesis was terrifying, even more so once he had to begin blending in.

“Since you have proven capable in a variety of fields, you may decide who you wish to serve under directly.” Megatron gestured toward his lieutenants. Starscream made a disgusted face, Knockout shrugged and moved on, Soundwave said nothing as usual, and Shockwave did whatever the pit it was Shockwave did. 

More variables to consider.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Deciding it would be best to cover his bases, Smokescreen stuck with Knockout for a few dozen loops. He appreciated the mech and managed to weasel all sorts of juicy information out of him once he proved a capable doctor and showed himself willing to polish the elder medic’s plating. It honestly wasn’t the worst experience. Smokescreen never looked better, but the position of Knockout’s fellow doctor simply wasn’t high ranking enough to get him anywhere, even if it did yield valuable information on the Decepticons. Of course, having spent so long training under Ratchet, there were a few interesting interactions in his loops before he moved on.

“What are you doing? Using a circular saw on a regular patient is asking for disaster!” Smokescreen exclaimed as he reached for a normal saw. Knockout pouted and activated his in-built saw to emphasize his point.

“It is more effective, though, is it not?” It was at times like these that Smokescreen wished he was with Ratchet again.

“The patient is AWAKE, Knockout.” He stressed while rubbing his face. Obviously, he had maintained a few bad habits from his time as a medic. He could really go for some high grade. Ratchet let him sneak a few sips off and on, and Primus, he really wanted a bottle at this point. 

“And? Anyone who walks in here knows that it's my way or the highway.” The red medic smiled lovingly at his perfectly polished saw and Smokescreen lamented life. Knockout was a pain in the aft, but he was a good distraction.

Of course eventually he needed to get back to work, and so after an extra loop just to blow off a bit of steam, Smokescreen turned to the next mech on the list.

He went to Starscream next simply because he was familiar enough with the seeker in his many many visits to the medical bay. Starscream hated him, and he hated Starscream. It was by far the least productive few loops Smokescreen had ever dealt with. He spent more time taking Starscream’s punishments for him than actually doing anything. Starscream got him killed twice by framing him, and that was enough for Smokescreen to decide it wasn’t worth it.

Shockwave was next on the agenda, and much like Knockout, while a valuable learning experience, there was not nearly enough influence in his position to help him. He could do nothing to assist the Autobots from the labs. He attempted releasing creatures a few times, but that simply never ended well. He tended to wind back up with the Autobots in restraints until everything came crashing and burning down. Science was never his best class anyway.

Finally, he settled on Soundwave. With the others already tested and Smokescreen being totally unwilling to risk it with Megatron without further information, he resigned himself to serving under the creep fest that was the spymaster. Smokescreen lost count of how many times Soundwave sniffed out his intentions before they could even begin. Those times ended with him being thrown off the edge of the Nemesis to his death. He was not fond of crushing as a form of offlinement. It took too long.

After what must have been a series of loops entering into the thousands, Smokescreen at last got himself together enough to last more than a cycle under Soundwave. He religiously studied Jazz’s instructional videos while with the Autobots as an inside agent and did his very best to play his part. Then, when he got onto the Nemesis and chose Soundwave, he went through what quickly became a very routine series of interrogations. Smokescreen found that the best way to not be caught was to never think of anything Autobot or mission related. It was a hard ask, but he learned a few meditation tactics over the loops that worked well enough.

He made a few valiant attempts at getting to know Soundwave for information’s sake, but the spymaster never told him much. The best he got was access to the Decepticon databanks, an event that changed his perspective on things wildly. It was also the only time Soundwave ever actually spoke to him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Soundwave… is this really what happened at the high council?” Smokescreen asked hesitantly as he reviewed the file. Ratchet and the Autobots always spoke of things as though it were Megatron who caused the war… but looking at this, it seemed the betrayal went both ways.

“Megatronus: Wanted power to free our people. Orion Pax: Was politically tied. Both made decisions in their best interest. Neither could comprehend the other.” Soundwave spoke and Smokescreen listened. It was no wonder Megatron wanted Optimus dead. If things were as it seemed, then the war was the result of one big misunderstanding turned into a grudge.

How ridiculous.

“Why are we still at war? Why couldn’t they both have just talked?” He found himself asking as he looked over the footage showing the rapid changes in both Autobot and Decepticon values over the vorns. Each side grew more and more radical to the point of detrimental behavior taking sway. Optimus taught him much of the old history of Cybertron, but not much about this.

“Megatron: Was humiliated. Orion Pax: Was coerced. Something changed. Megatron: Became darker. Orion Pax: Became Optimus Prime.” The spymaster replied emotionlessly as he typed away at his console. Smokescreen nodded grimly and returned to work. Was this really all the war was? Frag it all, he just wanted Optimus to live. 

“Megatron isn’t right in the helm anymore, so why are you still loyal? Whoever he was isn’t who he is now.” Datacables hovered above him threateningly as the spymaster turned to face him. Smokescreen froze, but he did not back down. Soundwave seemed to think about the proper response before he settled on calming back down.

“Megatron: May not be fully sane. But Megatron has vision. Megatron: Is not a dead mech walking.” Soundwave’s spindly digit pointed toward a screen, and Smokescreen’s optics widened a fraction as he saw an image of Optimus standing in what looked to be a proud manner.

“What do you mean by that?” He questioned sharper than he intended. Soundwave regarded him with suspicion, and Smokescreen knew he was done. Even if he got his answer, he was fragged.

“Optimus Prime: Has been waiting for death. Smokescreen: Shall be there to greet him in the Allspark.” Smokescreen only had enough time to process the information before a blade sliced straight through his neck. He fell to the ground with a pained gurgle before his vision turned into a mess of color, and he woke in his pod once more.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

He made valiant efforts to use his position amongst the Decepticons to help. He really did. But attempting to help the Autobots from the Nemesis was an impossible task. Again and again he returned, only to meet the same roadblock. If Megatron didn’t find the base, he found Optimus. The result was always the same. No amount of smuggled information, swapped allegiances, or dedicated spying ever did anything. Nothing. Ever. Worked.

He even tried to kill Megatron a few times. He might have had the experience of a mech with millennia of combat experience on his belt after so many loops, but Megatron was large and in charge. Smokescreen just wasn’t fast or old enough to do the necessary damage needed to offline the fragger. Thus, he changed his approach yet again. He attempted to try and play therapist to the warlord in an effort to possibly convince him to sign for peace. It was a vain attempt, and he knew it, but still, he tried.

And surprisingly, despite how much he still despised the mech, he came to understand him, just as he did with all the others he served under.

“My Lord, why do you hate Optimus so much?” He asked firmly but without any tonal indicators. Megatron killed him a few times for being too mouthy. He had long learned to question carefully. 

“Inquisitive today, aren’t you?” Megatron shot back with a hint of venom. Smokescreen held his ground, Megatron respected those who did not flinch.

“I joined the Decepticons to help end this war that has gone on for too long. I want to know your views, why you began all of this, and why this war has continued.” Smokescreen explained simply as he stood at attention. He was not fond of the darker purple tones he had been painted in since he began his infiltration, but he appreciated how it shone now. Knockout had taught him a thing or two about plating care, and it showed.

“Well, since you are so eager to know, allow me to keep things simple. I created the Decepticons in order to give our people equality and freedom from the caste system.” Megatron began, his voice becoming softer and less… harsh as he spoke. Smokescreen tilted his helm ever so slightly in curiosity as he listened. This was… informative.

“Cybertron was torn between the high and the low caste. The latter were treated as cattle, slaves to be abused, while the former relished in the gains of millions of mecha unable to get proper fuel, much less go anywhere in the world.” Passionate. That was the way to describe Megatron’s words. Not the vicious, angry rants that Smokescreen knew among the Autobots, but rather a soft and true care for the issue.

“I rose up with my fellows to speak for the people. I took Orion Pax under my wing, teaching him of the issues of our world and showing him all that he could not see in his comfortable middle caste position.” Smokescreen observed as for a split second, Megatron looked young and hopeful again. The scowl he always wore faded away, and his optics glinted as he stared into space. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“When we stood before the high council, Orion Pax, whom I trusted with everything, betrayed me. He shot down my proclamations and stood for what he saw as peace. He took everything from my cause, humiliating us.” Megatron’s servos shook with renewed anger, and Smokescreen stepped back on instinct as the warlord turned to face him. 

“You remind me of him. Curious and cautious. Maybe that’s why I haven’t killed you yet.” The warlord growled, his digits twitching before he turned away again. Smokescreen’s vents fluttered as he struggled to return to his normal cooling cycle, fear thrumming in his fuel lines.

“Or perhaps you remind me of myself. You have that spark of determination in your gaze… and that makes me wonder, what is it you are fighting so hard for? What conviction has taken your spark so fully as to abandon your faction for mine?” The tables had turned. Smokescreen stalled, panic beginning to flare in his spark alongside the brand. He expected to lie, but instead he ended up speaking the truth.

“I was told to give in. I refuse to accept that order, and so I am fighting against it in order to stop needless death.” Silence reigned for a long moment before Megatron nodded once.

“A noble goal, guardsmech. You will make a fine Decepticon.” Megatron stalked away and Smokescreen stood in shock. However, as he returned to his quarters and thought…

Was Megatron really wrong? At this point, his goals had long since shifted away from the Autobots and more toward ending everything. 

Perhaps he was a Decepticon deep down.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

It wasn’t fair. So many loops, and it was all for nothing.

He did everything in his power to work with the Decepticons, and yet absolutely nothing worked. And after his discussion with Megatron, he began to come to a realization. 

What was it he was really fighting for? Obviously he wanted to save Optimus, but he wasn’t trying to really stop the Decepticons anymore, was he? In the beginning, he put everything he had into fighting back, into giving the Autobots their victory. But now? After so many loops? He just wanted the war to stop. He wanted everything to end and for the needless death to cease. 

It hit him rather suddenly, but after what could have been thousands of loops, Smokescreen at last admitted that he was… tired. Truly tired. He fought so very hard for so long. He rose up time and time again, hoping for things to change. And yet, just as Optimus said, there was no escape.

He wasn’t sure when he made his way to his quarters or what look it was, but Smokescreen made a choice. It had been so very long…

“Optimus.” He spoke into the communicator softly, hoping the Prime would hear him.

“Smokescreen, are you alright?” Optimus asked immediately, concern lacing his tone. Smokescreen merely sighed, rubbing his face. He had no more tears to shed, not anymore. 

“You were right. There is no escape… is there?” Optimus remained silent for a long moment, and Smokescreen could hear the nervous flutter of the Prime’s vents before he answered.

“No. There is no escape. I have tried, we all have.”

The words echoed like a weight in his spark chamber, and all Smokescreen could do was darkly chuckle as a dry sob built in his throat.

“What do I do now?” He asked gently as he rubbed at his face, trying to keep his composure. Optimus sighed across the line and spoke as though he were soothing a wayward sparkling.

“Finish this cycle, and when it ends, come back to me. Let things play out as they should. I believe you finally understand.” A small part of Smokescreen wanted to keep fighting, to ignore the Prime’s advice. But as he thought, it made sense. What would further struggle gain him now?

“Alright… I’m sorry Optimus. I’m so sorry. I tried to save you. I tried so fragging hard.” His words came out in a choked mix of static and sobs, and he wept. Optimus, the kind mech that he was, uttered a single sympathetic phrase.

“I know Smokescreen. You would not have been chosen otherwise.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the loop began again, Smokescreen didn’t fight, he didn’t weep. Instead, he joined the team quietly and mingled with them as if he did not know what was to come. He kept his skill and knowledge behind wraps and pretended just to gain a sense of normalcy. The only times he allowed the mask to drop were when Optimus came to him, and they would sit and speak. Smokescreen told him of all his experiences, and the Prime in turn nodded in understanding. 

Optimus did not share what he knew, but he didn’t need to. Smokescreen didn’t want to know. Not anymore.

Something in Smokescreen’s spark told him this would be the end of his endless loop. And so he devoted himself to bonding with the team. He did not laugh as he once did, but he played with Bumblebee, enjoying the familiarity of video games and good times. He trained alongside Arcee and Bulkhead, remembering bonds now long gone, as he pretended to match their moves and flounder despite having more experience than they likely did at this point. He went to Ratchet regularly, asking to be taught the art of medicine as a pastime. The doctor was a crankpot, but it was familiar, and that was all Smokescreen wanted. 

The children kept him busy, the team gave him a home. Beneath it all, he knew what was to come, and so did Optimus. Neither fought against it when the time came for the base to burn. And when Smokescreen dragged Optimus from the rubble down into the tunnels, he did not cry as the Prime spoke.

“The time for a new leader… is upon us.” How very familiar. Smokescreen almost didn’t hear with how many times he had endured the same line endlessly.

“I know. You’ve said this before.” He muttered as he sat beside Optimus, holding his servo in a comforting way. He was older now, wiser. No longer did he panic at the sight of his ailing leader.

“You show no fear… your conviction has eased… you are… ready.” Optimus’s hoarse voice caused Smokescreen to frown, but he nodded all the same. For once, the brand did not burn. Instead, it soothed the pain of his long memory.

This was meant to be. He knew this now.

“Forgive me… for leaving you like this.” Optimus gasped, his frame tensing up as he clung to life. Smokescreen washed his field over the elder mech and Optimus attempted to do the same in return. They understood one another. There was no point in fighting it now.

“I pray that our kind… have no more need for a Prime… once this war… comes to its end.” The Prime whispered as his frame failed him. Smokescreen merely nodded again as he replied softly.

“No other should endure this torment.” He agreed quietly. Optimus coughed and managed a smile before squeezing Smokescreen’s servo.

“I do not remember all you have endured… but I know in my spark… that a true leader stands before me… right now…” They shared their fields in silence as time dragged on. Smokescreen didn’t bother keeping track of it as he waited until he had the strength to make a new oath.

He failed to save Optimus, but he had not failed his people… not yet.

“I won’t let you down Optimus. I promise you, Cybertron will be restored, and this war will end.” With the last of his strength, Optimus smiled and Smokescreen returned it. Then, just like that, the Prime vented his last and fell still. Smokescreen remained with him, holding his servo for a klik until Optimus’s chassis split and the Matrix revealed itself.

He wasn’t afraid anymore. He had no reason to be.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The world was brighter now in a strange way. No longer did knowledge of the future loom over his helm. For once, all was calm. But of course, there was still work to be done. Admiration could come later.

“Where is Optimus Prime?” Megatron growled, his blaster aimed at the team who were held in chains. They glared at Megatron, but their expressions quickly turned to shock.

“Optimus Prime has become one with the Allspark. I am Nebulous Prime, his ordained heir.” Nebulous now stood at around the same height as his predecessor, but it did not concern him. The Matrix sat heavy in his spark chamber, but it did not burn. With the memories of his fellow Primes imbuing him, he now knew that one day the weight would kill him.

But for now, all was well.

“I come with an offer of peace and a plan to restore our world.” The team gasped, and Megatron regarded him with pure suspicion. Nebulous did not falter as he strode forward, uncaring of the weapons aimed at him. He was no longer functionally immortal, but death did not shake him.

“What is it you offer Prime ?” There was a hint of sorrow in Megatron’s tone. Nebulous noted it with a hum. Perhaps he had not thought this far, but whatever the case, it was irrelevant now. 

“We shall repair Cybertron together. I shall retrieve the Allspark, and as co-leaders, we shall fix our shattered world.” The team looked ready to object, but Nebulous paid them no mind. They would not understand. How could they? So very blinded by war and hate. They did not know the agony of reality.

“How am I to be assured you won’t eliminate me the moment it becomes convenient?” Megatron questioned with a low hiss. The Matrix thrummed comfortingly, providing knowledge which Nebulous happily accepted as he spoke again.

“I am not my predecessor. My trial was different from his… and I know that what you seek to gain at your core is also the goal of all Cybertronians.” All those present paused, and Ratchet looked ready to purge. Megatron for his part lowered his blaster and seemed contemplative. 

“You truly desire peace, little Prime?”

The question hung in the air as Nebulous approached and extended a servo. 

“More than anything else. This war has dragged on long enough, so please, let us bring it to its end.” He and Megatron locked optics for a long klik before the warlord nodded and took his servo, shaking it with considerate strength. 

“For Cybertron.” Megatron murmured, his expression returned to that hopeful visage Smokescreen saw so many loops ago.

This was not the end Smokescreen wanted, but it was the end Nebulous strove for. Personal connections and petty grudges meant little now. All that mattered was restoring their home. Enough had perished as it was. 

Optimus would have wanted this.

Nebulous would not fail, not again. 

“For Cybertron.” He agreed.

And he meant it with all his spark. 

Wherever Optimus was, Nebulous hoped that he was finally at peace.

[beeduoo]

originnssssss who remembers origins i Loved origins

Lowkey i ate with rhis actually no i didn't i ate wirh rhat ENDER EYE Why is it so rendered Hello

IGNORW RHEIR UGLY UGLY DESIGNS This was before they switched to their iconic Skins past e didn't know......