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fatecantstopme · 8 months

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Still Perfect

Pairing: Rafael Barba x plus size!reader

Summary: You're feeling self-conscious about your body and Rafael reminds you how beautiful you are.

Warnings: body image issues. Cursing. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (p in v)

A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.

mi amor: my love

cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.

por favor: please

mi corazón: my heart

hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous

“I don’t wanna go,” you complained with a huff as you dropped onto the bed.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” Rafael asked gently.

“I have nothing to wear.”

He chuckled softly. “For a woman with a wardrobe as extensive as yours, that seems unlikely.”

You groaned and laid back onto the bed. “None of it fits.”

“Now I know that’s not true. You’re currently wearing clothing.”

You glared at him. “I look homeless, Rafi. None of my cute clothes fit.”

“Cariño, you look cute in everything.”

As sweet as the comment was, it didn’t make you feel better. “But it’s a vacation…on a beach…there’s gonna be hot model babes running around everywhere.”

He sat down beside you and took your hand, concern evident on his face. You were normally such a confident woman, but you’d gained a fair amount of weight recently and it was definitely bringing you down. Rafael still thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, but he was having a hard time making you see that too.

“Mi amor, you have nothing to be concerned about. There will be a plethora of hot model dudes running around too. I certainly won’t be hanging out with them.”

His tone was teasing, but you were so stuck in your head that you interpreted his meaning differently. “So I’m not as attractive as those women?”

He gave you a harsh look. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, hermosa. Nothing has changed for me. Nothing.”

Tears stung your eyes. “I’m too fat to sit comfortably on a plane, Rafi. I don’t wanna go. I hate my body so much right now,” you whispered.

“I know, cariño, but you’re not too fat to do anything. You’re perfect. I don’t care that you’ve gained a little weight. You’re sexy as hell and I can’t wait to lay beside you on that beach and show you off.”

You looked up at him and offered him a small smile. You’d never loved anyone the way you loved him and you could see that same love reflected in his sparkling green eyes.

“I love you, Rafi.”

He smiled in return. “Te amo mucho, (Y/N).” [I love you very much.]

He laid down beside you on his side and gently caressed your skin. His touch warmed your heart and your body. He had a truly special way of making you feel beautiful and loved.

“But you know what I’m looking forward to most?” He whispered into your ear. “I’m looking forward to making love to you every place we can possibly think of…every inch of that hotel room, the private patio, the beach, the ocean…everywhere.”

You inhaled deeply, breathing his scent into your nostrils. Your body reacted to his words instantly, desire pooling in your abdomen. “Rafi…” you whispered.

He knew exactly what you were asking for and he was never one to deny you. His lips met yours hungrily, his growing need for you evident in his kiss.

He rolled his body so he was hovering over you, his lips never leaving yours. His long fingers ran down your sides before slipping under your shirt and dancing across your skin.

Your body tensed slightly as his hands touched your soft flesh, a surge of insecurity hitting you.

“I’ve got you, cariño. Let me love you, por favor,” he murmured.

You nodded and tried your best to relax. As usual, his touch and his kiss were enough to push the negative thoughts from your mind.

You allowed him to remove your shirt and he let out a low growl when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. His mouth immediately latched on to your breast, a groan of enjoyment sounding from deep in his throat.

As much as he loved your breasts—and god help him, he loved them—he desperately needed to taste you.

He made quick work of removing your shorts and your underwear, but he forced himself to slow down and give your body the love it deserved.

His lips touched every inch of your skin he could reach, slowly, sensually moving down towards your core. He took his time, his touches reverent, his kisses adoring.

“Rafi, please,” you begged.

He looked up at you with a soft expression. “Do you feel beautiful?”

You shouldn’t have been surprised by his question. Rafael cared about your feelings more than anything. “I feel beautiful,” you whispered honestly.

He smiled warmly. “Do you feel loved?”

“I feel worshipped.”

“Oh cariño. You haven’t seen worship.”

You found yourself unable to respond as he licked his way between your folds and began his delicious assault on your pussy.

“Rafi!” You gasped, fingers entwining in his hair.

He tugged your hips closer to him, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. He needed you more than he needed to breathe—mouth never leaving your core.

You couldn’t keep still as he feasted. Every inch of your body was alight with desire, a desperate need to feel him everywhere.

As if he read your mind, his hands began to travel, caressing you and squeezing your flesh…gently digging his long fingers into your skin. He left a blaze of euphoria in his wake, a feeling only eclipsed by the tightening in your belly.

He knew you were close and he suddenly realized how badly he wanted to taste your release. He sped up his ministrations, his own hips digging into the mattress in search of some relief.

Within seconds, he sent you spiraling over the edge with a cry of his name. He worked you through the pleasure, not stopping until your last aftershock had passed.

“Can I make love to you, mi amor?” Rafael asked softly when he came up for air.

You were breathless and content, but when you saw the look in his eyes, you felt the fire within you begin to grow again. “Por favor.”

He smiled and pulled away from you, quickly ridding himself of his clothing. When his cock sprung free, you reached for it almost instinctively, but Rafael grabbed your hand.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” You pouted.

“If I feel those pretty little hands wrapped around me, I won’t last long enough to make you cum again.”

You sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “But I wanna touch you, Rafi,” you purred.

“Querida…” he murmured hesitantly.

“Just for a moment…”

The hungry look on your face made him give in. “Alright, just for a moment—mierda.” [shit/fuck]

You stroked him slowly, paying special attention to the throbbing tip. You spread the precum leaking from his cock around the head, causing him to buck his hips against your hand.

His breathing was labored as he watched your hands—so small around his thick cock. “Cariño, por favor,” he begged.

In response, you dragged the head of his cock between your folds, causing both of you to moan at the sensation.

“Mi amor…”

You nodded your head in permission. “Make love to me, Rafael.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he slid his cock into you all the way to the hilt. He paused before moving, forehead falling against yours, slightly breathless.

“You’re always so tight, hermosa,” he mumbled.

You moved your hips in response, silently begging him to move. You craved the friction he would provide and the inevitable release he would coax from you.

He picked up on your indication and began to slowly pull out of you, only to plunge back in with force. He repeated the motion a few times before speeding up, but his focus never left your face.

He watched your expressions, taking note of every reaction you made. Every time you closed your eyes, every moan that escaped your lips, every tilt of the head…

Every time your nails dug into his back or your pussy clenched him extra tight, moans of pleasure forced their way out of his mouth. Rafael could never be considered a quiet man, and the same was true in the bedroom.

You loved hearing the sounds he made, just as much as he loved hearing yours. Although you would never admit it to him, what you loved most was the way he talked to you in bed…especially when he was so far gone that the only words slipping out were in Spanish. You couldn’t explain why it turned you on, all you knew was that it did.

Rafael wouldn’t admit it to you, but he knew the effect his whispered Spanish had on you—and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage.

“Cariño, te sientas muy bien. Me encanta la forma en que me aprietas tan fuerte." [Sweetheart, you feel so good. I love the way you’re squeezing me so tight.]

Your nails raked down his back and a desperate moan left your lips. “Please,” you begged—though you weren’t sure exactly what you were begging for.

“Qué necesitas, mi amor? Digame." [What do you need, my love? Talk to me.]

“More. You.”

He smiled at your inability to form a coherent sentence. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Cualquier cosa por ti, Querida." [Anything for you, baby.]

He shifted his hips just enough so that he hit your g-spot with each thrust. Within seconds, he could feel you nearing the edge, but he wanted—needed—to feel you cum with him.

“Wait for me, cariño.”

“I—I can’t—“

“Yes you can. Just a little longer.”

You closed your eyes and focused on holding off your impending orgasm. Every sensation flooding through your body was pure pleasure and you could feel yourself losing control.

“Rafi, please,” you gasped.

A couple more thrusts and he whispered, “Ven conmigo." [Come with me.]

You cried out as you came, fingers gripping Rafael’s back like your life depended on it.

He exploded with a gasp of your name, hips finally beginning to falter.

He didn’t stop moving until you’d come down from your high. He lips met your heated skin and he whispered sweet nothings to you.

Finally, he collapsed beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath before dragging himself to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth.

He cleaned you up gently, as he always did, before crawling back into the bed beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He tugged you into him and placed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” he asked softly.

“Nope. No one. Ever,” you said in a teasing tone.

He laughed warmly. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, mi corazon and I love you.”

You turned your head to look into his warm green eyes. “Te amo, Rafi, con todo mi corazon.” [I love you, Rafi, with all my heart.]

His lips met yours in a gentle kiss. “Te amo mucho, querida. Más que la vida." [I love you so much, baby. More than life.]

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x plus size!reader #rafael barba x reader smut #rafael barba smut #law and order svu #law and order svu smut #barba x reader #barba x reader smut

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

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STORM-FLYING PETRELS (VI)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VII ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.9k

WARNINGS: Panic attack, talks about death, guns, anxiety, insomnia & paranoia, angst, alcohol, littering in some heartfelt moments, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your nightmares were getting worse. It was undoubtedly true.

The violent way you’d gasp into awakeness, tears, and sobs stuck on your lips as the large walls of your bedroom left you feeling more alone and isolated than anything. The barriers wouldn’t tighten—they would push out farther until all that remained was you and the bed, solitary and abandoned to darkness. Faces danced as the ghosts out in the hallways did at twilight, faces dripping blood and eyes reflective like a cat’s.

Your father, the people in the park, the man you’d killed.

Your mother, now, too. She stands next to Samson Row like a picture of perfection with a winning smile.

Gripping the damp rag in your hand tighter, you think over the moments after Gaz had told you about your matriarch landing in the States. It was almost comedic, now, the way you’d gone still and blank; bandaged hand loose over the paper with that telling red ink. Eyes boring into the way the Brit’s hand had tightened over his phone.

Not moments prior you’d been mulling over the reality that your father had hidden things from you—how this strange moniker of ‘Chiyou’ rang to something inside of your head—and then another problem hits you. Over and over again it’s like you can’t catch a single break without it all falling to pieces.

Even now, the stupid coffee stain on the dining room table is making your knuckles go thin from how hard you’re pressing. Your body was shivering, cold seeping into your bones even through your jacket. It was only an hour after the events in your dad’s office.

Your teeth grit together, dragging the enamel into a scrape of pure anxiety.

“I didn’t really take you for the stress cleaning type, Love.” Gaz watches you tightly, lips pulled back in concern from across the room. “Why don’t we just sit down and figure this out, yeah?”

“Or you can get the mop and start cleaning the floors.” You grunt, rubbing your shoulder into your cheek.

In the time you’d been washing down the kitchen like a mad woman, you’d gone through four cups of coffee, and the jitters were plainly seen in your form as you jerkily ran back and forth. You'd call it pathetic if you were in the right state of mind.

“Better yet,” you talk like you’re drunk, “get the duster and—”

Your legs had left the table to go and grab the roll of towels on the island, but the world swirls halfway through your rapid pace. There’s a moment when you’re sure the house is tipping on its side, the foundations caving in from under you.

You make a sound in the back of your throat when your legs buckle.

But before you slam to the ground, strong arms wrap around your middle and you can’t even breathe enough to push them off.

“Whoa! Okay, alright,” Gaz holds you, body firm and warm in a way you never could be. “Christ,” He whispers, face stiff. “Easy.”

Half bend over, you stare at the floor as the Brit brings you down slowly to your knees. He crouches in front of you and swiftly places his fingers on your pulse; skin sliding along your neck. You want to gag but have to make your head stop spinning first.

In a moment of shaking lungs, you take down a deep breath. Like a vale, black fabric sits at the edge of your vision.

“Love, I’m going to need you to focus on me, yeah?” Gaz speaks slowly, his tone tight but still shining with worry. “Just listen to me.”

Your eyes burn and your chest is held down by bricks. Kyle’s grip goes to the back of your shoulders as he shifts you over, turning you like a toddler to rest your back against the island. Gasping lowly, your body fights against all normal senses—quivering and sweating at nothing. Your mind was pulsing with…everything.

Devoid of any other option in a state of inner panic, you focus on the feeling of Gaz’s hands rubbing up and down your arms. It’s a few long minutes of borderline hyperventilating until the dim light of the kitchen slowly invades your eyes.

The steady drip of tears makes itself known seconds later. Had you been crying?

“That’s it,” the Brit whispers, tilting his head to you and offering a small, tense, smile. Kyle’s lower face blinks into reality as your clenched hands loosen. Stings of pain echo up your injured palm. “It’s alright, we’re just in the kitchen…” He thins his lips and stops his hand movements; gradually taking his limbs back as you catch your breath.

You clench your jaw against the sting of growing embarrassment.

“Sweetheart…?”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” your voice is shaky and cuts out in places. Kyle looks away and closes his eyes for a moment, shaking his head calmly.

“Don’t need to ask for it,” he grumbles, caution stuck in his throat but being honest. “Take a deep breath.”

You nearly want to spite him and hold your lungs still, but you push aside your stubborn nature and do as he says. Groaning under your breath, your hands go up to your eyes, rubbing into the sockets. After a long moment where you can feel Gaz’s gaze stuck on you as his feet shuffle, you lower your hands and sigh long.

“She can’t see the house like this.” You whisper, genuinely distraught. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Kyle’s eyes tighten, and he finds himself not knowing what to say to you. His heart constricts.

Sniffling, you rub at your cheeks, beginning to shove off the floor until firm hands once more snap to your shoulders. They keep you back against the island as you growl and attempt to jerk out of them.

“Would you quit it?” In reality, you don’t want to be here anymore—not in the kitchen, no, near Gaz. Shame makes your stomach roll with nausea. You need to go back to your room; the closed curtains and the dark corners.

Every action that was made near him was laced with agony; a knife stabbed through your chest. Even if his intentions weren’t sinister. You just need to be alone.

“Well, would you bloody sit down, then?” He’s serious about this, his grip not hurting but still tight. Gaz puts one hand atop his head and resituates his hat with a digging of his dark eyes. You glare at his neck with hatred. “I’m askin’ you to take a second, Love. Just let yourself calm down a bit. You’re running yourself ragged over this, yeah? Fuckin’ hell, look at what just happened!”

“It’s nothing!” You snap but know that it’s not the truth. Gaz aggressively shakes his head and looks away with disappointment in his eyes.

He knows it’s not your fault, and in fairness, he’s not disappointed in you at all. He’s disappointed he didn’t have a larger backbone about getting you involved in this. The day you both first met weighs on him every time he looks at you; every time he walks through his decaying house. The remnants of what’s left.

The details in the office are brightly lit in his brain.

Kyle takes a large breath and lets his tension drop instantly. There is an overwhelming amount of mixed concern and confusion that always makes itself known when he’s around you.

Grunting, the Brit shifts on the floor and rests his back on the island right next to you on the floor. He bends one of his knees and rests his elbow over it, scratching at his chin with his fingers before resting his arm completely—letting it hang. You blink over in silent shock, mildly uncomfortable from how close he was.

Strained silence falls as your hand slips into your jacket pocket; fiddling with the coin in its clutches. Your heart still pounds, eyes finicky as they dart from Gaz to the far wall and floor.

Kyle clears his throat as your wounded arm burns.

“How about we make a deal, yeah?” Your fingers pause with their rolling of the coin, but you don’t look over. Gaz tilts his head in your direction and stares at the side of your face—not trying to make you uncomfortable, just wanting to gauge your reaction. He takes a deep breath and, when you don’t reply, continues. “I help you clean, and when I say we take a break, I have to answer one question of your choice.”

That piques your interest, ears twitching up.

In your head you immediately snap back to the events in his room; the warmth of Kyle’s hands as he held and stitched you up with his story about his scars. You don’t know why you can’t stop thinking about it at every other moment.

You hum an acknowledgment, flinching when the chemicals start to turn your hand numb. Gaz lightly shushes you, squeezing your wrist.

Your wrist rolls as you move it in a circle to push back tingles.

Pressing your coin into your palm, you think over Gaz’s proposal as he waits for an answer expectantly. He thinks to himself that if you agree, then he’s one step closer to getting on your good side for the remainder of this protection stint. The Brit prays you just hear him out.

He doesn’t want to admit how much your light-headedness has put a strain on his heart. How fast his eyes had snapped back and his feet darted forward.

“You said your mother was a florist?” You don’t verbally agree or disagree with Gaz’s question, but the inquiry you say into the echoey kitchen is enough to know. It was strange, though, that you were asking a question that you already knew the answer to. As well as with how it was a personal one. But the Sergeant, nonetheless, holds back the pull of his large smile and nods.

“Affirmative. Little place down the street from my childhood home.” You stare at the far wall, and after a second your head slowly angles back so that your head rests on the island behind you.

It must be a sight, the two of you on the floor of a dusty and barren kitchen. You can’t find the strength right now to get up and stalk away. Kyle rubs the back of his neck and is surprised by your follow-up.

“What’s she like?” His brown eyes widen a smidge as he looks at your blanks and placid face. Voice small like a bird.

“Uh,” the Sergeant falters, but recovers quickly, “she’s…nice, good, even. I’ve not spoken to her for a bit, but she’s…” Gaz halts for a moment, blinking, “...she’s just about everything you could ask for and more. Taught me well.” He ends his sentence with a dismissing huff.

You feel your gut tighten, but hum in response.

Kyle wonders if it’s his curiosity or his determination that makes him speak next, “What about yours, then?” Your body tightens back up immediately and he scrambles. “N-not in a personal way, just…you speak fondly of them, your parents, I mean.”

Most of the time.

Licking your lips, you wonder if it’s really necessary to answer. But it had been so long since you’d had someone to speak to. Kyle had been slowly worming his way into the remnants of your everyday routine like a parasite; finding its home in the body of your family's estate.

There were a large number of negative emotions attached to this Brit, yet still, once you’d opened the gates of your mouth, there was little chance of stopping. He’d taken a screwdriver and was working away since he’d saved you that day in the park.

“They loved each other.” You settle with, hearing Gaz sigh in relief to see you weren’t going to snap and stalk off. “My mother was always with my father—they did everything together. She was more strict than him; wanted me to go into something with more prospects than follow Dad into a history degree. But…” You think, coin-face leaving indents into your flesh. Whatever damage had been done to your injured palm had slowed its heated pulse. “...Seady,” Kyle listens intently. “She was steady. Like a rock.”

Something akin to pain bleeds into your face and the man keeps himself from putting a hand on your shoulder in comfort.

“I guess she just couldn’t handle it when he died. Needed to get away.” While you had dug your heels in and stayed stationary, she’d gone off and taken a shift overseas. To forget or to find something more, you never asked. When she was gone, you really couldn’t say much changed.

After all, that entire first year was a blur of black and red.

You take a shallow breath and pull your hands from your pockets. “Can’t say I blame her. Just… nervous about seeing her again.”

This was more than Kyle expected. His brows were slightly higher on his face, eyelids curved. He clears his throat slightly, looking away quickly. Guilt, as it seems to do a lot recently, builds on his shoulders like a castle of stone.

He never should have agreed to that damned interrogation, but how was he to know that Row would pull the trigger for no reason?

Hell, was that even an excuse?

“...I’m sorry, Love,” he says, and your breath stops with mounting pressure inside of your throat.

Your head slowly turns his way and you stare at the space where his stubble is taunt under his nose.

“What…?” He barely hears the words.

Kyle’s head fully turns your way but you don’t balk back when his brown orbs graze the side of your vision—so nearly looking into them but still so far. Eyes are wide and nearly frightened in expression by the words that had just entered your eardrums.

Kyle speaks up, “I said I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I never should have bloody played along with the bastard plan. It wasn’t right. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I just…need you to know that, y’know?”

Face burning, you open and close your mouth; vision darting from random points on the Sergeant’s face until you snap your head away in a flurry of tight lips and shaking shoulders. You burn holes into the far wall but look more anxious than anything.

Your lungs get tight and your nose feels like you’re breathing in needles, but you refuse to cry in front of this man again. No matter how much the words were like a bucket of cold water to your scalp.

You can never forgive him for what he helped do—for the gun and the bag over your head; the death and trauma—but you’d never even expected an apology. It…it meant something, but what that was, you weren’t quite sure.

All you do is shrug brokenly.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” Kyle tries to comfort you. “It’s been what? Around three years since you’ve seen her? Well,” he chuckles lightly, “I’m sure the first thing she’ll do is give you a bloody huge hug. Lift you off the ground and all.”

You scoff, finding your breath. “She was never a hugger, Garrick.”

“People change, wanna wager on it?” Your brows turn into a line. “A ten.”

“No.”

“Ah, c’mon!”

“No!” You growl at a smirking Sergeant as he tilts his head back and laughs, hat-brim sticking out from his head. He raises his hand in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Point taken, then.” Rolling your eyes, you huff and rub at your eyes aggressively. While some of your nerves had left, the sheen of it still lived in the lines on your forehead. The air wafts back into that strange tension and delicate sanctity.

“My own father,” Gaz starts slowly, measuring words. “Was in the service. A soldier.” His arm moves up and he shifts it so it hovers above your lap. His wristwatch glints and after a dim hesitance, you carefully reach out a hand to touch the material; tiling it towards you. Your eyes slide over it as Kyle’s face softens, his tone easy. “I took after him, too. Tough luck I never managed to grow a green thumb, probably would have saved me some soiled clothes.”

You puff air from your nose.

“Can’t see you retiring to the garden anytime soon, unfortunately.” Gaz smiles and takes his arm back tactfully.

“Hm,” the man settles back and sighs. “No, probably not, Ma’am. Just hope I don’t end up like he did.”

At your angled head and glimmering eyes, he continues, “Fell in the line of duty when I was ‘bout as tall as a table. My Mum never wanted me to go chasing after his memory—we don’t talk much because of it.”

It was the way you could mirror yourself into Kyle’s own childhood that really struck you, but as your brain went a mile a minute you rolled it back into focus. You can think about that later, but right now you just wanted to try and understand the way you were feeling.

“Why are you telling me this, Kyle?” You whisper. The Brit’s hand comes up to rub at his neck.

“Because I feel like you need someone to talk to,” he hums. “Even if you don’t like ‘em.”

The tease is evident in his tone.

You don’t like that he splays your emotions out like this—knows that something’s wrong even if it’s entirely obvious. He talks about it, and that's entirely foreign to you. Three years of solitude with no one to utter to but your professors and Hector. Only one of those you could consider somewhat of a friend, really. Hector listened when you ranted and seemed to at least care about you to a moderate degree. He had two girls after all, and although you’d never met them, you knew they were good kids. Loved.

Hector was all you had, and you told him nearly everything.

And now…well…now Kyle wants you to talk? Part of you wanted to chuck a coffee mug at his head.

You shake your head, walls going back up.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Garrick. Go get the mop.” Brown eyes sadly watch after you as your arms shove you up. Standing, you rub at your eyes and snatch the paper towels from the island counter like they had personally wronged you.

Kyle hums under his breath and shakes his head, fixes his cap, and pushes up to follow.

—

You speak again far later, and despite his comments about not becoming the cook of the mansion, you can’t fight him in the fact that his food was good. And you both had to eat, regardless.

Sitting in the back library, you place the plate of Gnocchi with creamed spinach down with a clack as you push aside the bottle of disinfectant spray. The white sheet that had been around the furniture was ripped back some minutes ago to show a luxurious chaise lounge of navy tufted fabric and a small side table. Your mother’s favorite pieces in the house, ironically. Gaz is already eating, standing near the fireplace in the center of the wide and extravagant room.

He looks around every so often at the scores of books and ladders that extend to the ceiling. Everything about this house, he thinks to himself, is the definition of old money.

“All we need to pull this together,” Kyle licks at the side of his mouth and smiles as he says, “Is a nice bottle of Fiano, eh?” He laughs, “Don’t suppose you have a wine cellar, Ma’am? I’d say you deserve it after a day like today.”

Your form pauses momentarily when bringing the fork to your lips, but you continue with a blink and say, easily, “Cellar? Yeah, but don’t plan on anything being down there. It’s all gone.”

Gaz tilts his head, bringing his own fork to his lips and chewing. “That’s a right shame. Would have paired nicely.”

You place your utensil down in exasperation and glare at his throat. “You are the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

Kyle’s expression goes mock offended. “Hey!” He humphs, “If you keep letting me cook then I’m going to do my bloody best!”

“There’s incriminating evidence in my father’s office and you’re worried about wine?”

“I’m not worried,” Gaz points the fork at you as you shake your head and get to eating. “I said it would pull it together. There’s a damn difference, Love.”

You can’t believe this is the man that’s living in your home. Helping you clean; keeping you from being shot—talking about wine. It’s a miracle you haven't killed him at this point.

“Tough luck,” you grumble, chewing. “There’s none left. Suffer alone.”

“Well, that’s just uncalled for, that is,” Gaz utters, getting the last piece of flooded potato and sticking it in his mouth. The smirk in his words is evident. But the weight of your previous words stands, and you get into the next topic swiftly.

“I need to go into my father's old office in the museum, Garrick.” The man’s arm stills from where he tilts his plate to get some of the spinach onto his fork. His shoulders tighten immediately.

“Negative,” the Brit’s voice echoes. “Not happening, Ma’am. We’ll get someone else on it.”

No one else knows my father. There’s a part of you that knows that no one else can figure this out as you can.

Red ink, copied signatures, that blasted moniker. It’s a literal trail of bodies that you need to piece together for this to make the painting you’re working on—brushstroke by brushstroke.

In your heart you know there’s more going on. Your father wasn’t what people are telling you, even if he knew things that sullied his image. This wasn’t right.

“Gaz,” you try not to let your anger show at this—growing tired of the constant fights. “This isn’t something that I can compromise on.” Kyles stares and sets his jaw.

“I’m not letting you leave his mansion, Ma’am. For yourself and for others.” He takes a breath. “Let my mates handle it; Laswell’s already got a unit together. They’re rechecking the docks and the museum by your counsel soon. Spoke to her just after I got news of your mum coming back.”

Soon wasn’t soon enough. You don’t know why, but unease hits your stomach. The house had always felt like it had ears on it, but when you were talking about stuff like this it seemed alive. The curtains sway with the AC, the wood creaks more. It’s horrible.

Or maybe it was just because Gaz was living here. But it just felt like….eyes.

“Kyle,” you try to stay the venom from your tongue. Anyone can tell you’re strained. “I’m asking nicely, here.”

“And you said you would listen to me, Love.” The Brit rubs at his forehead. “I’m not doing this to be difficult, truly.” A long sigh exits, a tired but honest one. He wishes you’d look him in the eyes so he can make you understand he only wants what’s best for you. The way you’d been after the shooting…Gaz’s hands remember the tightness of elastic as he stitched you back up—you’re vacant gaze. He can’t have that happen again. “I’m keeping you alive if you could only stay here. This house is secure, and if we go into a potentially target-rich environment, I have no say in what could happen to you, yeah?”

You knew this, of course you did, but so much had been discovered in so little time.

“Sergeant, I—”

“No, Ma’am. That’s an order. We’re staying here and that’s final.” It seemed whatever strange feelings from the kitchen and office are far gone now. Kyle’s face is like stone, and you stare at his scars with returning resentment. Could he not see how much this meant to you? No, how could he? All he does is follow his fucking orders.

Your teeth snap around the food on the end of your utensil, sliding off the metal as you think. Letting fire flare in your gaze, you glare at the plate and say nothing else. Angry, but not defeated.

Kyle and you go back into a highly uncomfortable silence. Closing his eyes, the man twitches his nose as his legs shift from under him. Suddenly the brick of the fireplace is grating to feel against his athletic shit.

He grunts and shovels his last bit into his mouth as you stand—food only half-eaten.

Brown eyes stare as you stalk out of the room, hand clenched around your plate. When you’re out of sight, Gaz lets out, “Christ…just fucking brilliant.”

But he wasn’t about to tell you that you could leave; you can sulk all you want, but that’s not changing his opinion.

You stomp through the immediate hallway like a child, playing your part perfectly. Once you are far enough away, your feet speed up to a light jog and carry you to the front door. You open it and place the entire thing on the front step; a backend form darts out from the bushes and hisses.

You harshly whisper into slitted eyes, “Oh, step off, you temperamental demon.” The door shuts and you race up to your room—bounding up the foyer stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where to place your weight to make sure the steps won't creak.

Entering the blackened room, you close the door and lock it with deft fingers. Looking at the clock, you engrain the time of seven-fifteen to memory and resolve to be back by midnight. Gaz makes his first round at eight, but he won’t bother you if you’re pissed as you intended to make it seem. From then it’s twelve and then at four.

If you can get back in before he does that middle-of-the-night search, you’d be golden.

You rush to your curtains, peeling them back and blinking at the water spots on the glass behind them. Shaking your head, you unlatch the lock and look down at the two-story drop into bushes as you push aside the window with a slow squeal of hinges.

“I’m getting answers,” you whisper stubbornly. No Sergeant would stop that. Backing up from the frame, you feel the chilled breeze and pull your jacket tighter against the nighttime air.

Licking your lips, your eyes slide to the curtain wrack and your brain sparks with mischief. But before you do anything reckless or admittingly dumb, you turn with a serious expression to the nightstand that you stare at, morning after morning.

A moment of a rapid pulse passes in tight silence before you walk over.

With a small quiver in your finger, you place your hand on the brass handle like it could snap at you with merciless teeth. It stays there as you dig your eyes into the wood, searing it with purpose, that cold, lifeless metal in your tensed grip. With a grit of your teeth, you let it drop numbly, shaking your head. You grab your wallet and phone instead, stuffing them into your pocket, and shuffling away.

“Don’t need it,” your low voice reasons aloud, a hidden object swiftly leaving your consciousness.

Dragging your desk chair over to the tall curtains, you grasp a hold of the metal rod that holds them with trapped breath, reaching on your tiptoes carefully. Puffing out breaths, you unhook it after the third try with a mute chuckle. A smirk takes residence on your face.

Getting down on unsteady feet, you accidentally knock the hard material directly into the wall with a loud slam as your legs shift too quickly.

You freeze in an instant, ears strained and eyes wide. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stand holding the rod, those navy curtains a swell of the deep sea at your feet.

Body ready to bolt, you take thin breaths before you realize nothing else is moving in the house. Letting out a long and slow breath, you move backward.

Setting the rod across the opening of the window frame parallel, it stands in as an anchor as you feel your backside connect with the bottom wall. Focusing, you lift one leg and twist your spine to leave you straddling the frame with nervous pulses in your veins. Ducking your head, you move your grip to the curtains and grab them tightly, muscles straining.

In a moment of courage, you say, “C’mon, I can do this…” and place one foot on the outside frame. The wood groans and sinks in, but you don’t let it scare you off. This had to be done. With a deep breath, you lean back with tightly closed eyes.

Except you don’t fall.

Lids pulling back, you stare at where your feet dig into the frame and how your hands hold the curtains—held themselves by the rod on the inside of your room that spans far more than the window's size. Your entire body is at an angle, hair swishing behind you due to gravity.

“Holy hell,” You can’t help but utter, chuckling.

Moving one foot back, you place it firmly to the side of your house as you scale backward down to the ground with sliding hands. The long curtain rod holds tight.

In mere minutes, your feet hit down and you stumble before letting the curtain slowly go—far above hearing the slight ping of the thing hitting the floor at the loss of tension. With a smile on your lips, you dart away into the back garden before Gaz can even question the noise coming from your room.

All that’s left are the curtains whipping in the breeze.

TAGS:

@fatunn, @mh073099, @littlegaypng, @untitled69555, @babybooday, @caffeine-anxiety-and-randomfacts, @underrated-youngster, @jupiterredolent, @idocarealot, @karnellius, @latteisaqueen, @petrat97, @jade-jax, @roosterr, @escapefromrealitysm, @renaich, @kysa32, @human-turtle, @aurora-basin, @terumisworld, @violet-phantoms, @xxfeelmylovexx, @neelehksttr, @nezukos-number1fan, @20forty9, @mdjenjen, @marrianena, @angeldaisyy, @alhaizen, @homicidal-slvt, @emerald-valkyrie, @raissadoesthingslmao, @misfne, @hollyhopesworld, @wasteland-babe, @330bpm-whiplash, @anna-banana27, @justherebecausesafarisucks, @sunnynomoar, @doggydale, @thecrispypotatochip, @74478328, @blueoorchid, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @dragonfruit1985, @chestnutsandcurls, @vamqyr3, @lavalleon, @nebula67, @urfavsunkissedleo

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ivycorp · 1 year

Text

Before Orion had been remade into a Prime (‘ascended into Primacy’, he remembered the Senate call it at the time, as if the pretty words made it into anything different than a horrifying intrusion into what and who he was), he led an interesting, if a little unorthodox life - especially for the caste he was a member of at the time.

He had a decent job, a few friends, and a varied dating history. His partners were of all shapes and sizes, different temperaments, and an array of preferences and fantasies he was quite keen to experience. Some serious, others less so - Orion was always honestly invested into the relationship, but at the same time he never felt the need to be in one in the first place.

As much as the holos and datapads made it sound like a prerequisite to happiness was to find their one and only, Pax was finding joy in his life with or without the partner at his side.

His job at the Archives allowed him to read up on many different topics, and every week or so his local club had a rave going on - he went to them all, losing himself in the loud music and flashing lights.

His partners sometimes went with him, other times they just smiled fondly and left him to his devices; he never stayed longer than a few weeks with anyone who tried to stop him from going.

He needed the drain of energy these parties gave him afterwards - if only he could sneak into Six Lasers, he would probably get enough to stay satisfied for longer…

The craving inside of his frame never seemed to be sated. His everyday demeanor hid a search for something.

He wasn't sure what, but he would not stop looking for it.

Orion suspected this precise need was what kept him from finding any of his partners to be one of those grand, once-in-a-lifetime matches, but it wasn't worrying him. He was patient, and he would rather never find the target of what his spark ached for than be bound to a weak imitation by being careless.

He abhorred the notion that he would have to face the societal expectation of settling down with someone who would try to tame him - Pax had mellowed a bit as years went by, a requirement to fit into the society better, but he never got rid of the feral trait that was at his core.

He may love his work in the Archive, where he upheld the rules of the institution and behaved as was required of his professional conduct.

Outside of work hours, however…

‘You’re quite bizzare mech, Orion,’ some would say, when he would end things with his current date and go to a next dance party right after, as if nothing had changed; the archivist would smile widely, drawing on the fluorescent paint that covered his plating to mimic some of the markings of dangerous species that lived in the Wastes, flashing his glossa piercing. The design would be washed off before his next shift at the Archive, but it was a clear statement that felt right in his processor:

A warning to those who would think his small frame and kind mannerisms made him an easy prey.

Orion knew how to bite - and he knew how to bite deep.

Ratchet had to periodically tell him off about chewing on someone's servo ('really, Orion, you can't keep on doing that, who knows what sort of parasites he could have had on?!'), but he could not bring himself to regret any of the times he did it.

Still, all things considered, he was happy, he was liked, and his life was as stable as one could wish for. If he ignored the need to search for some mystery goal his spark seemed to desire, he was doing okay.

The world he lived in was not perfect, but what could he do alone about it?

*****

Things changed when he met Megatronus - ‘heard’ would perhaps be a better fitting word here, as it was the words of the gladiator that he became familiar with before they actually met face to face.

The charismatic speeches were filled with sentiments that he felt himself mirroring, and they stirred in Orion more constructive reflection about what he thought about the society that he lived in so far; the anger rose in him, matching the energy of the Arena around the Champion of Kaon. He devoured recording after recording, making sure it never got flagged for any additional review of his superiors.

Already he could feel something pulling him towards the mech, but at that point he suspected it was just an affinity of views. Pax was quite sure there was nothing deeper going on than the pleasure of finding such an inspiring figure in his life, especially one so outspoken - one that intended to do so much about how things were.

Orion wanted to help with that.

The work in Archives became a constricting factor in his life, as he felt it held him down with its sweet benefits - meant to keep him compliant, to keep him from rising against the system. The recordings slowly were not enough to satisfy him.

His plating itched, the digits dug into the seams, as he wanted to go, to scream, to do more.

*****

He went to Kaon.

Meeting Megatronus in person was an exhilarating experience; the pull he felt towards the other changed into a force he could no longer ignore - still, Orion thought they were just very well matched, and his spark was happy to find a new potential friend.

As time went on, his visits to the gladiator complex grew more and more frequent, their friendship growing stronger with each discussion - and so, after an intense argument about the movement they were building together, Pax was emboldened by the high grade they were drinking and shifted the topic to something less political: his personal life.

As he regaled the mech with a story of his rather short-lived fling that involved glitter, stolen traffic cone, and a risqué dash across the back alleys of Iacon, he was surprised to learn that the Champion had not actually engaged into any relationship beforehand.

“Never felt a need to be in one, to be honest - nor have I ever found someone I would like to be with like that,” Megatronus said, frowning, as if surprised the words left his vocaliser, then shrugged, obviously deciding to not give a slag in presence of a trusted companion.

“Would you like to try?” Orion found himself saying in response, equally bewildered with what he was proposing, momentarily panicking that he had caused a rift in their friendship by being so forward. He entertained that idea for a while, as Megatronus occupied most of his thoughts these days, but he did not mean to ever be the one to offer it.

Yet, as the gladiator stared at him, he could see the opposite of what he feared was happening - a deep blush bloomed on the other’s face, as the offer was being considered, quite visibly in favor of the idea.

The archivist felt like he was lighter than air, his own emotions flying high; the need to follow the magnetic pull that he downplayed for so long taking over his reasoning.

Orion did not think it was love, or at least it was not the same as it was with his prior partners - no, it was something more…

Primal.

The search that was buried deep within him was finally given a tangible target.

It made him feel like he could forget the size of his frame, the lack of control over anything but the files in the Archive, the chains of a civilized society that held him in a vice grip. As if he could embrace the instinct to claim and protect what was his, to let his wild side shine; that he could truly be himself with the silver mech in front of him, his equal and his dearest friend.

Said mech was currently trying to gather some sort of a response that would most likely involve way more logic than Orion would like to hear. Instead of waiting for the reply, he put the high grade down and shushed the other with his servo, startling the gladiator into confused silence.

“You blush so beautifully, you know?” he whispered, receiving a reward in a form of an even more intense reaction, as Megatronus tried to hide his face with his servos.

“No, don’t hide it from me, please,” Orion pleaded softly, touching on the digits and pulling on them gently, as he managed to coax the other to instead hold onto his servos lightly.

The Champion of Kaon was looking at the table intensely, at a loss for words for once; he tried to figure out what exactly was happening - it was not what he expected to happen that day, nor had he seriously considered a relationship with the archivist beyond a brief suggestion from some of his staff as a throwaway joke about the amount of time they spent together.

But he could feel something tugging him towards Orion; an odd beaconing resonance in his spark that appeared not long after they started meeting more frequently.

It felt like a call, a promise of the beautiful freedom he chased all his life without knowing; someone that would satisfy the forbidden desire of being safe and protected - without considering him inferior.

When the archivist tightened the hold on his servos, Megatronus found himself looking up into the hopeful optics and smiling back.

Orion was his equal, they already spent a lot of time together - what could it hurt to try to take another step further?

“How could I not blush so much when an attractive mech is asking me out so boldly?” he jested, making Orion laugh openly.

“Smart-aft,” he retorted, “but really, Megatronus, I believe we will make a splendid pair,” he added, as he raised one of the servos to place a soft kiss on top of the curled digits.

“I’m sure we will, Orion - we already do,” the gladiator chuckled.

*****

After that visit, their relationship started to slowly change; on the archivist's insistence, they were going to follow Megatronus's pace, as he was less experienced in those kind of matters. They went out a few times to local bars, watched holos, and refueled together often. Whenever they were away, they called each other frequently.

But both of them could feel that it was not enough. They were holding off from each other.

The time Megatronus inquired into a possibility of Orion staying the night, Pax could feel the gladiator was similarly distressed, and acquiesced.

"I was wondering if we could try something… new, since you are here, Orion," Megatronus said, as they sat on the berth which they intended to share. The archivist hummed in interest, as the silver mech was fighting against the instinctive urge to leave, to not show any vulnerability.

"If you would be open to that, I would like to interface with you tonight," he admitted finally, hoping his decision would not be a mistake.

Pax stilled at that, reigning in the excitement that filled him when the words hit his audials, as he rushed to clarify:

"I would love to, Megatronus, but I don't want you to feel pressured into anything," he stated firmly, taking the larger servo and holding it between his own smaller ones.

The Champion of Kaon held his ground.

"I want to do this with you, Orion," he assured, as he lowered his helm to clink softly against the other, squeezing the servos lightly.

Orion felt something brewing in him, like a storm on the horizon - but he held back.

"Would you like me to follow your lead here, as it will be your first time?" Pax asked seriously, finding it suddenly a heavier question than usual.

Megatronus glanced at him, and after considering it briefly shook his helm, relaxing.

"I think I would like you to use your experience to make it a memorable one," he teased, but his face turned softer, as he held his free servo lightly against Orion's chestplates, above his spark.

"I trust you, dearest," he whispered, looking the smaller mech straight into the optics.

Orion felt the last statement made his last reservations disappear; he grinned and took hold of both silver servos, guiding them down to the berth, as he pushed the larger frame back, straddling the gladiator.

Megatronus was looking up at him with adoration, as he relaxed into the position, digits of his servos flexing lightly by the sides of the helm - right where Pax had left them, as he drew back to admire the frame below him.

He knew strength-wise he would not be able to overpower the mech, which made the easy compliance all the more sweeter to witness; the fearsome Champion of Kaon was not a patient mech, nor a passive one, but here, together, he allowed Orion to do as he pleased.

Because he trusted him not to abuse this vulnerability to hurt him.

Pax was struck with a rush of affection at the sight. His spark sang as he cradled the other's face, the need to cherish this gift and shield Megatronus from all that could hurt him ever again.

He knew it was futile, as being a gladiator was inherently tied with getting slagged from time to time - but out of the Arena, he could be a steady presence the other mech could count on.

Megatronus was his now - and he would do his all to be worthy of this claim.

“If there is anything you don’t like, please, tell me, and I will stop,” he promised, as he ran his servos over the expanse of the silver plating, teasing the wires between the seams. Megatronus shivered, but his optics shone bright as he replied with a softest “I know you will,” that Orion wanted to kiss him there and then.

So, he did.

He braced himself on his knees as he held the silver helm and brought their faces together, kissing the mech slowly, avoiding the sharp denta. The gladiator sighed dreamily, melting into the attention; inexperience made his response sloppy, but he made up for it by being very enthusiastic.

Orion could swear at that moment everything in his life felt right - every piece had slid into place as the never-ending search was over. He looked forward to discovering what precisely made Megatronus enjoy himself the most.

He suspected it aligned with his interests very well.

*****

From that day on, Pax used his extensive knowledge to figure out just that - the gladiator was open for experiments, granted that Orion was the one doing them with him.

They realized pretty early on that Megatronus had a clear preference for letting the archivist take the lead in berth - he reassured that it had nothing to do with the difference in strength, but more with the fact that he enjoyed the way Orion handled him.

“I trust you to catch me when I fall - that is the most exquisite thing you could have given to me, my love,” he explained after an intense session with restraints, as Pax massaged his limbs with the utmost care. The archivist smiled, happy to see his partner sated, and continued to offer soft words of devotion.

Megatronus did admit he liked when Orion talked to him.

What a coincidence - the smaller mech loved to talk.

Even more thrilling was the realisation that he could bring his partner to overload by words alone, the gladiator always so happy to follow his voice as he sunk deeper into the safe bubble of their own making.

It was where Megatronus did not have to fight anyone but himself - and the only fight he had to care about was that which would bring him even more pleasure, as he did his best to obey and was rewarded with bliss.

Their collection of interface toys grew, hidden in the box in the gladiator's room, and they laughed that at this point they probably spent a little fortune on it. They wouldn't complain about that though, as they put them to very good use quite frequently.

They managed to keep their intimate relationship mostly private, with the smallest slips in public: a stern look and a 'tsk' sound emitted by Orion would sometimes halt the silver mech from spiraling into anger; a small smile sent to Pax as he argued his position on some matter of importance; or the quick grab of the archivist’s servo to prevent him from lashing out bodily when he heard Megatronus being disrespected in the streets of Iacon, when he decided to visit from time to time.

“It’s not worth it, Orion,” he would say, as his smaller partner would growl low at the offender, as he was dragged away towards their destination. The bot would shoot him a sharp look, only to soften it by a fraction, looking at the scarred faceplates of the silver mech.

“You are worth it, Megatronus, and I will keep on doing it until you believe it too,” he would offer in return, squeezing the larger servo lightly.

*****

Then came the dreadful meeting with the Senate.

They talked about it in length, expecting multiple options - including being arrested on the spot. They made contingencies, scouted getaway plans, polishing the message they wanted to give as the revolution had been their mutual goal; no matter the risks, they had to try.

The topic of Primacy was seen as a means to an end, as this would be the only position that could hold against the Senate’s wishes if necessary - and that would be the key part of getting any actual changes done. Orion was happy to give that opportunity to Megatronus, never really wishing to lead an entire nation; one gladiator that made his spark humm in joy was enough for his instincts to be satisfied, thank you very much.

When he spoke up during the blasted meeting, seeing that his partner was getting more and more agitated, he intended it as a grounding moment, to let the other calm down - instead, he achieved the opposite when they offered the Primacy to him alone, sensing weakness.

They didn’t really want him to be a Prime - they wanted them both to fight each other, to create a schism of the monolith that was threatening to overthrow them.

They would have to follow through on that promise, though. The press was there, and the trial was broadcasted live.

As his thoughts ran wild, faster than he would have expected himself to be able to process, he realized that it was the only chance they could get to have any sort of a shot at the position, as they were hoping he would decline and thus they could deny them both - if he accepted, he could still carry out their plans, without making Megatronus into a target.

He agreed.

As he looked again towards his partner, hoping he understood just why he had done it - the gladiator was so damn smart, he must have seen it! - Orion’s spark sunk.

The Champion of Kaon looked lost.

“Megatronus, please, let me explain,” he started, belatedly realizing he slipped into the tone he took when they were alone - the gladiator noticed it too, and his face twisted into horror.

As he scrambled to leave, the silver mech drew his plating in close and rose to his full height, trying to project anger instead of hurt he felt at the notion that he had been played.

The openness he offered to Orion had obviously been meant as a leash - the archivist never saw him as an equal, but a damn pet project, no doubt enjoying the hold he had on the gladiator.

A hold he offered freely and enjoyed up to this very moment as a most cherished part of his functioning.

He felt like purging his tanks out.

He turned his external audials off as he shot a comm to Soundwave, requesting pick up - and declaring Pax as a traitor.

Orion stayed behind, guards blocking his way as the Senate sweetly pushed towards the immediate ceremony, as a sign of trust in the movement’s commitment to peace, even if one of their leaders had left from 'jealousy'.

He clawed and strained to get away, snapping his denta at anyone who dared to touch him, but he was severely outnumbered.

As the Matrix was shoved into him, he was still crying out for Megatronus to come back, to let him explain.

And then, there was the overwhelming pain as Matrix was pushed into his open chest and everything faded into white.

*****

When he became Optimus Prime, he did not have much time to think about the impact of the upgrade besides some of the most obvious changes that he rectified as soon as possible - the revolution had turned violent, and he had to act to contain it.

Something was wrong, however, and he could feel it in his spark - but he wasn’t sure what precisely was off.

When he saw Megatronus across the field, he found the answer.

He could no longer feel his instinctive pull towards the gladiator - these feelings were muted, bland in comparison to what a fire they were not so long ago. He could remember all that they did, but it did not stir anything in his core; as if someone had put a block between him and his desires.

He eyed his chest with terror, realizing there was only one thing that could have caused it - the Matrix pulsed within him, warm and calming.

It had to be it.

He tried to make himself get rid of it, but the blasted relic was relentless in making sure he never did that - with pain and reassurances in turn, he was stuck with it.

And the war turned uglier.

Megatronus could see he was not himself, and it drove him into a stubborn cycle of violence and pain.

What was left of Orion wept, clinging on to the echoes of what they shared - a reminder to get the Matrix induced sense of righteousness knocked down a notch.

The relic was playing him like a marionette - if he gave in, he would lose everything he was.

It wanted him to kill Megatronus.

He could not do it. He could not harm what was his - and the warlord still registered as such.

As he felt the Matrix wipe parts of him away with each recharge, he let out last intense cry that buried itself within his spark as he succumbed into the defrag debt he forced himself into:

"I will rather die than kill Megatronus!"

That was the only thing that would remain of Orion in Optimus for a very, very long time.

*****

The war was worse than anyone could have expected.

Years flew by, as Cybertron got decimated, lives were lost, new horrors were discovered.

Prime could not understand why he could not kill the silver mech - the Matrix was coaxing him so sweetly, yet every time his spark would recoil in terror, stopping him from finishing the deed.

He didn't exactly know the reason for that, but he guessed it could be because they were friends in the past.

...

They were friends, weren't they?

He couldn't recall clearly.

They must have been, Megatron was often referring to 'their shared history', but he could recall only bits and pieces:

A smile.

Displaced laugh.

Echo of touch.

The warlord was obviously still thinking about whatever they had, but Optimus was so tired...

The Matrix calmed him down, as he got back to work.

There was always something to be done.

Autobots needed their Prime.

He rarely smiled these days.

*****

When Orion opened his optics in the empty clearing in the middle of nowhere, seeing Megatronus stare at him, he was as relieved as he was confused.

Had the Senate not made him into a Prime? No, his frame felt weird, some time must have passed.

Where were they?

Still, he felt genuine joy when the silver mech extended his servo to help him up - there must have been something that caused Megatronus to forgive him at least partially, and he could work with that.

Some mechs appeared, but he was already pushed towards a swirling mass of lights; he walked through, hoping he would have another chance with his lover.

*****

Orion was not convinced by the tale Megatronus (no, Megatron, that's the name now) had just finished telling him, but he got to work soon enough.

The silver mech kept him company, quite obviously conflicted about his own feelings. He couldn't blame him, as he buried himself in the archival work once more, trying to figure out precisely how he could get the topic of who they were to each other on the table.

It turned out to be unnecessary to worry - as he accepted an invitation to the Decepticon Supreme Commander's room, he noticed some signs that he was very familiar with.

Something long forgotten by his spark stirred within Orion's new frame, as he crossed the distance and noted the other automatically responded in kind.

It was as if the Senate meeting never happened.

They both shuddered internally - whatever was between them was back, and it was stronger than before.

*****

After Optimus came back from the Nemesis, most of the crew noticed something had changed in their Prime. Ratchet was watching him closely, but there was nothing different physically to treat.

Aside from a few systems registering new use, if the medic ever felt like breaking doctor-patient confidentiality, nothing was amiss.

They all assumed he would need a moment to get his bearings, and he would be back to normal.

Then came the flirting.

They were all stunned when they saw for the first time that their Prime not only responded to the warlord usual suggestive banter, but also indulged into offering some of his own words, stunning the Decepticon leader.

Whatever it was about Optimus now, Megatron seemed to be extremely susceptible to it.

At first, they hoped it was an actual strategy - but the Prime wouldn't finish the warlord off, instead leaving him dazed.

They hoped it would only happen once.

Okay, maybe twice.

Now that was ridiculous - every time it happened?!

The battlefield became awkward for everyone involved. They wondered why Megatron kept on coming if it was obvious he was unable to resist.

Honestly, Soundwave wondered the same, but he hoped it would finally pass.

Optimus laughed at a thought of that in the privacy of his own mind. Unless the Matrix decided to interfere again, he doubted that would happen again.

When he became a Prime once again, he was surprised to notice that this time around there was no emotion block present. He dreaded it would kick in within a few cycles, but after a month he deemed it was very unlikely.

The resonant call between him and Megatron was unobstructed, the instincts pushing Optimus to take what was rightfully his.

And if Megatron's reaction was anything to go by, he felt that too.

*****

As Optimus finished repairing the console and retired for the night to recharge, he couldn't help but lock the door, frame warm at the idea of what the silver mech must be going through.

No doubt Megatron tried to get off, but they both knew the warlord preferred his overloads to be delayed, even if it hurt - he would wait for the permission from his lover to let go, to let the Prime catch him. Their comms would connect at odd times of day or night, and Optimus would indulge the other every time, sometimes with only mild teasing.

Despite not being there, he felt Megatron was even more his now; he was glad to see the way the Decepticon reached back in desperate need to anchor himself in his life once again.

He basked in the fact that even if he was absent, he knew the warlord would have realised the comms were jammed and he would have to forget about overloading for a while.

Poor thing…

Optimus had to admit it was a bit scary, to see how much his new frame would amplify his needs, latching onto his claim on Megatron and making him burn up on the inside to take the mech and keep him to himself.

He groaned, opening his own panels, as he stroked his hardening spike in an unhurried pace.

Prime may not be able to call the mech to enjoy listening to the sounds he caused the warlord to get himself off, but his imagination and memories were all vivid enough to make do.

For now, at least.

He powered down his optics, as he thought about the sight of Megatron pushing himself up and down a fake spike mounted on the floor, as he tried desperately to suck Orion off - all in hopes of earning himself an overload for his efforts. He would stroke the silver helm as he whispered encouragements.

"You can take me deeper, my dear, I know you can - would you try for me, please?" he would say, pulling the mech closer, very slowly getting more and more of his length into the inviting intake.

Megatron would relax his throat, letting Prime sink all the way, as his hips would rock slightly on the toy below him, stretching his leaking valve nicely.

Optimus wished his own servo would feel as good as his lover's warm glossa did, his memories supplying him with tactile feedback bursts as he recalled looking down at the mech and petting the helm, as the warlord would look up at him and hum, sending vibrations through his spike; he gripped himself tightly, wanting to delay his own pleasure too.

"See, I know you could do it, thank you," he praised, as he shifted his hold on the silver helm and warned:

"Now be good for me and let me use you, pet."

With his new strength, manhandling Megatron into compliance was actually possible - they both were happy to realize that the desire to follow Orion in berth held true, making it official that the strength difference really didn't coerce the gladiator into seeking compromise all those eons ago.

Optimus could now bodily maneuver the mech around with ease, shifting some of the responsibility away from Megatron.

The Decepticon was thrilled by that, his spark filled with contentment again as he allowed his lover to do what he wanted; the release of control made him dizzy, so he focused on the soft moans and reassurances from the standing mech as his worries faded away.

Mind wonderfully blank, he hummed again around the spike, happy to get another groan out of Orion. The mech in question sped up, chasing his overload with strong thrusts.

In reality, Optimus was doing the same - at the edge, his servo a rush of motion.

So close!

He focused on the tangible memory of the beautiful sounds he would pull from Megatron as he pulled him close, spike deep, as the silver mech took it with practiced ease and let out a satisfied moan as his partner finally overloaded, swallowing the fluids flooding his intake eagerly.

Prime's servo was now covered in transfluid, his spike depressurising already.

In his imagination, however, Megatron whimpered as Orion withdrew, and nuzzled into an offered servo.

"Thank you, darling, you did wonderfully," he murmured, both in memory and the darkness of his room.

"Why don't we take care of you, pet, hmm?" Orion offered, lowering himself to the floor, where Megatron picked up on the forgotten rhythm as he dragged himself up and down the spike buried in his valve.

When his anterior node was brushed, he cried out; then, when the touch did not disappear, the charge built up so fast he looked at Orion with pleas spilling from his glossa.

He heard a soft command of "Overload for me, my sweet," and it was enough.

Megatron seized up, valve spazming around the unyielding toy as he rode out his climax with a string of thank-yous filling each exhale with gratitude so earnest, nobody could see it as anything but pure satisfaction.

Optimus cleaned his servo off, content, as he prepared himself to recharge - he was sure his dreams would be more pleasant now.

What he and Megatron had wasn't love, no, it was more complex than this; it was something much better.

They were caught in each other's orbit again - and this time, Optimus will not be letting go.

**************************

Inspired yet again by @paraxodicalundressing posts (this and this), connected to both this and this.

#transformers #maccadam #tfp au #megop #valveplug #i am tempted to actually put these on ao3 if only to keep up with the bs i am creating #Riot if you want me to gift this for you there let me know and I will do it without hesitation #it is your AU so i will wait for your answer before i actually put them there #because i am just showing up and throwing these on your doorstep at this point #THERE #and hoping i am not way off what you imagined #also yes there is lots of indulgance here #tfp_au_writing_valveplug

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sugutoad · 6 months

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hi! i was wondering if i could get matchup for demon slayer?

i'm 6'0 and have amber eyes, long gold blond curly hair and hourglass figure

i'm positive and upbeat person, i try to see the bright side in most situations

i'm friendly, energetic, confident, responsible, maybe a bit chaotic, cheerful and bubbly

i care about my friends and family a lot, and go out of my way to show it

i enjoy having fun and living life to the fullest

i really like puzzles, riddles and crosswords

i love making people smile

i have morbid, dark sense of humor

sometimes i randomly say a weird obscure fact in the middle of conversation

i can play on violin, cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, harp and drums, i'm currently learning how to play on trumpet

i like poetry and sometimes i write a poem or two, also i'm writing my book

i'm ballet dancer since i was a kid and i love performing

i'm working on my own cartoon

i never quite grew out of the fantasy phase, and i'm still enamored with tales of changelings and witches

i work as illustrator for fantasy books and books for kids

i'm kinda struggling with taking rest, doing nothing, because there is always something to do, something new to learn, etc.

i'm afraid of stagnation

i overuse this kind of emojis→(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

i love: sunflowers, collecting things, colors yellow, maroon, blue and green, astronomy, tea, making and watching movies, photography, forests, making jewelry, cooking, baking, d&d, fantasy books, horrors, playing chess, animals, plants, dollmaking, dancing, gardening, traveling, drawing, painting, knitting, art, history, world mythologies, spirits, fantasy creatures, eldrich beings, folklore, sculpting, works of J.R.R Tolkien, linguistics, death, burial, beliefs about afterlife, learning new things, embroidery, cartoons, music, psychology, writing

sorry if it's too chaotic (⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)

thank you so much for even reading this! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

i hope you have a fantastic day (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Matchup for @pinezki

╰┈➤ Thank you for doing Matchups at Sugutoad

╰┈➤ Muichiro Tokito ‘Even if I die, I won't let you get away with this!’

Ok, so I haven’t been interacting with Demon Slayer lately so my memory is slightly fuzzy

Have you realised how bright a person you are? He has been so alone his whole life, trouble after trouble facing him. Then you come. So bright and happy, blonde curls bouncing up and those amber eyes, reflecting the sun, were an entrance to your beautiful soul that always seems to be making him smile

Your demeanors go so well. His quiet, stoic and logical nature seems to be the exact opposite of your bubbly, upbeat and chaotic nature. He seems to be also making sure the two of you stay out of trouble at all times just to be sure that you don’t charge straight into battle. He knows you're capable of yourself but he always wants to make sure that everything is perfect and safe so neither of you die.

He finds you so graceful. Your fighting style was almost mirroring Mitsuri in a way but the way you gently get rapidly run around and twist like a ballerina is enchanting. You make fighting look like a dance that even him , the youngest hashira, couldn’t achieve.

Whenever you are working on your illustrations and stressed out/ overworking yourself, he brings in a sunflower as a sweet reminder. You remind him of a sunflower in fact. A sunflower is a symbol of faith and devotion, and here you are, working so hard if something you are devoted to entirely. A sunflower also represents radiating brightness and positive energy. And when I tell you to make this boy so happy, you don’t understand. He always seems to be smiling at you, even when you crack a dark joke that he may not understand.

He always makes sure you take rest in between your work periods. You come home from a mission and immediately start doing something? He will immediately drag you to bed and do it yourself. And don’t even try telling him that you are fine, he may be quiet but he is also observant.

You are so tall! He thinks he should be the taller one of the relationship due to being the male but he loves your height. Always telling people ‘that’s my girlfriend’ when they look at you.

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themuselesswriter · 8 months

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Shining Rockstar - Oneshot

Characters: Kelly Lord, Original Female Character (Liliana) Summary: Liliana walks on Kelly while he is dancing in his warehouse, he thinks she'd abandon him, but instead, she joins his moment of fun. Word count: 500+ Warnings: slight self hatred, referenced bullying A/N: none Credits: photos from Pinterest, editing app is Picsart

---------------------------------------------------------- He danced and sang, his eyes were closed, the music blared loudly, enveloping him in the feeling of a rock star. He felt free from cares and troubles, his fur coat acting as a shield against pain, misery, disrespect, and disappointment.

He danced with such carefree that he failed to notice the door opening or the sound of approaching heels. She entered silently, enjoying the view. As the song finished, he opened his eyes and caught sight of her. She grinned, yet his reaction seemed more fear than excitement or happiness.

"How long... have you been standing there?" he inquired coldly, avoiding her gaze. She nonchalantly shrugged. "Since the first chorus. I never knew you had such dance moves" Her smile didn't seem to alleviate his distress. "Oh no, that expression. You're about to say something I won't like. Just say it already" Liliana sighed as she found a seat amidst the warehouse clutter.

"I'm just waiting for you to laugh at me and break up with me" he confessed. She appeared perplexed. "Why would I do that?" Now he was the one confused. His past experiences were filled with ridicule and laughter from those close to him, so why should she be different? "Kells, your happiness while dancing matters to me. I wouldn't mock something that brings you joy" she reassured him. "Yes, even the eyeshadow... it could've been better, but that doesn't change how I see you"

A brief silence hung in the air as he absorbed her words. He glanced at the ground and then back at her. "Are you... being serious?" he asked. She nodded. "And I wouldn't mind seeing you flaunt that coat of yours" She stepped closer, her touch tracing lines on his bare chest. He was taken aback, yet he welcomed her touch and the sound of her soothing voice.

Still skeptical, he struggled to believe that someone could truly love and accept him. She sighed, took his hand, and guided him to sit. He complied, waiting for her next move. She searched around and returned with a makeup brush and the eyeshadow palette he had used before.

"Close your eyes" she instructed, dabbing eyeshadow onto the brush. With his eyes closed, she carefully adjusted his eyeshadow. She handed him a mirror. Opening his eyes, he gazed at his reflection. His eyes were transformed, and he was left speechless.

"Here, do mine" she handed him the brush and palette. She smiled, pulling him to his feet she took a seat at chair. She closed her eyes, her trust evident. He hesitated briefly before he began applying the eyeshadow. "You're truly okay with this?" he questioned. "Yes, love. I appreciate this side of you; it's a part of who you are" she affirmed. Handing her the mirror, he said, "Take a look" She smiled, a giggle escaping. "Not bad" he grinned.

Liliana rummaged through the scattered items until she found what she sought: a beautiful black fur coat. She undid her top, took it off, her bra followed, she put the coat on, nothing covering her but her red shorts and the fur coat, her appearance mirroring Kelly's. She approached him, showcasing herself. "What do you think?" Once again, he was struck speechless, a smile playing on his lips. "You look stunning" he whispered.

Her grin widened as she located the radio station with the perfect song. She dashed to him, took his hand, and led him back to where he had danced before. she swayed to the music, her joy contagious as he eventually joined in.

Their dance conveyed happiness, as if they owned the world without concerns. Kelly's gaze remained fixed on her; she embraced him, loved him, and accepted him with all his quirks and vulnerabilities. It was hard to believe that just moments ago, he had feared rejection and abandonment. He smiled. "I love you" he confessed while dancing. She nodded, smiling. "I love you too" Drawing closer, he gently kissed her, a gesture overflowing with affection. "Perhaps we could grab a bite afterward?" she suggested after their lips parted. He agreed. "My treat" he offered promptly. She chuckled, "Of course, my shining rock star"

#a town called malice #Kelly Lord #original female character #Liliana Lord #Lord family #oneshot #museless tumblr oneshot

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discombogulated · 11 months

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MAY 6TH

and, lo, an angel of the lord appeared unto them saying: "be not afraid. my nail polish is chipped, and i'm just out here riffin' with this one." ...meaning, the only tw is that i'm actually fine. —thanks for reading 569 of my words!

I must've kicked every dandelion in sight. The rest of my life began in that little, blue church that hugs the mountainside— the one so easily lost among low-hanging clouds and bilberry bushes. But, today began yesterday at five o'clock when I told you the truth and you said: "Wait."

May 6th has the biggest box on any calendar. Go on. Check my math. No amount of ink fashioned into a lopsided "X" can divide it into something I can stomach. Still, are four, sharp-cornered sections, each more barren than the last. Your tea stands unfazed though bitterly cold, and while the sun dresses for her march across the sky, I dance around it, sewing the fine tears in the parlor back together.

Waking up makes not a nightmare end; just as distraction, asked to bring peace, attends my self-wrought pity party empty-handed. Pillows, blankets, and records all go home after a long night out, but your tea— a porcelain cup, a cup I've never even thought was pretty— I can't lift. I don't think you'll ever talk to me again. And, if you do, it will not be the same. And, if you do, you won't tell me to wait. You'll land a sympathetic slap on my back and encourage me to start over with somebody else. Or, maybe, you'll look at me like you never have, brandishing a rotten smile quite foreign to a countenance so sweet, and explain life tastes better without me.

Nerves, intrusive like ivy, circle my every supposition until you are disguised, changed in fact. No longer the same woman of months past. No longer the one who sports her hat with the bow facing the wrong direction; who spots me a madcap glance every time she buckles her shoes and, somehow, a wilder one when she unbuckles them. Of twenty-four hours ago. You don't weigh your pockets down with rocks you think I'd like. You don't write your own invitation to lunch and forge my signature. You don't understand. You laugh. You hate.

I have made perfect strangers of us both with my transparency.

Noon. "All hope abandon, ye who enter in." Twelve times the little blue jay pops out to mock me while my fingers fumble with a window's rusted latch. The air inside the house has grown hot, oppressive, strange for the season, and there is nothing left to do except wait. Catching a dull eye in the pane, I see my efforts to at least keep a clean face have been for naught. What is it about staring at one's own reflection that brings tears, if they're there, to the surface? To break as a pent-up thunderstorm in the dead of summer?

A flock of real birds flies into the arms of a nearby oak, startled by the opening of my window. To them, the bugs, the distant neighbor pushing his grass cutter in neat rows— back and forth, back and forth— this is not May 6th. This is Saturday, and tonight, they will reinhabit their nests or bury themselves in dirt or Old Quaker like any other, never knowing of you and me, how I miss you. They will go on, and the rest of the world with them, never knowing that the two who might've sat here watching with laughter on their lips, dreams in their heads, and secrets in their hearts have been reduced to one.

ᅠ

#prose #writing #writeblr #i don't usually go for first person #it's a necessary evil #pov you're lovesick and depressed like the rest of us #why did this kind of just end up being about math?

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thdorkmagnet · 2 years

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Light of the Sun and Stars Chapter 50: Monster Bash (Preview)

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Chapter Synopsis: It's a big step forward for Monster and Mewman unity as the two races gather together to party and have fun. And while everyone else is enjoying themselves, Star is far from calm, struggling to keep her sanity knowing a dark threat from her path is on the hunt. Meanwhile, a series of phone calls pulls Marco away from the celebration, bringing a new shocking twist to this tale.

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all it’s characters belong to Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

Index

A light atmosphere filled the otherwise dark cave, Monsters and Mewmans alike all gathered together in celebration, simply enjoying each other’s company. It had been an odd choice to host a party but the insistence from the Monster teens had convinced Star and the others to give it a try and the results spoke for themselves. While the dim lighting could be seen as creepy or dull, it instead created a sense of mystery and enchantment, helped along by the floating orbs of light that lined the ceiling, courtesy of Star. Colored spotlights had been aimed up at them, reflecting the bright colors across the dreary cave, helping create the perfect atmosphere for the guests. Off to the left was a mouthwatering buffet of delicacies found all across Mewni, including a few Monster dishes thanks to Kelly’s instance. To the right was a simple dining area so the party-goers could sit and enjoy a meal if they so pleased, each table draped in fine cloth and colorful streamers. And it seemed the hard work everyone had put in had paid off as Monster teens laughed and danced with their Mewmans allies, mostly made up of commission members.

But it seemed there was one group who were not feeling the festive spirit, too deep in worry to enjoy such historic accomplishments. At a table near the back of the cave, a dark tension seemed to be swirling around four unsuspecting teens, each lost deep in their own fears. Star’s foot tapped nervously against the stone ground, her eyes darting left and right in search of some invisible force that wasn’t there. Every little sound made her jump, her movements stiff and mechanical as she fought back the ever-increasing anxiety bubbling just below the surface. Marco watched her like a hawk, refusing to leave her side for even a second, though the temptation of the party called to him, his girlfriend took priority over having fun. Jackie was sidelined already, her leg making it impossible to enjoy the party to the fullest, though she didn’t seem troubled, a calm expression on her face as she looked over the happy party-goers. Higgs was much more alert, her eyes narrowed in surveillance as she slowly scanned the crowd over and over again.

Finally, the young knight groaned in frustration, slamming her hands down on the table. “This is ridiculous! All of this is a waste of time! We should be out there finding Heinous instead of sitting here doing nothing!”

“Shhhh, Higgs sit down!” Jackie hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into her chair. She leaned in close as she whispered, “Do you want everyone in Mewni to know?”

Higgs scoffed, ripping her arm free. “I just don’t see the point of all this! Star’s a nervous wreck, the last thing she needed right now was a party.”

Jackie sighed in exasperation, but spoke in a calm, even tone, “The point is that we have to make things seem normal. No one else can know about Heinous, it would just cause more issues than it would fix.”

“Beside, Babs said she was close to figuring it out,” Marco helpfully supplied. “Isn’t that right, Star?”

The blonde nodded mechanically, anxiety written all over her face. “Yeah but she has been saying that all week.”

“I’m sure she’s got this, Star,” Jackie comforted, placing a hand over her friend’s. “We just have to trust her.”

Higgs scoffed. “Yeah right, she’s probably just taken the money and bailed. Assassins can’t be trusted, they’re all a bunch of murders and liars.”

“Hey, if she was gonna do that why bother telling us about Heinous at all,” Marco defensively argued.

“Oh Marco, you have so much to learn still,” Higgs replied, shaking her head at his naivety.

The hooded teen frowned at his friend while still watching Star out of the corner of his eye, judging her reaction to the accusation. The blonde’s expression didn’t change, the same anxious energy surrounding her as she just stared down at her untouched plate of food. It had been as tough a week for Marco as it had for Star, the boy powerless as he watched his girlfriend’s mental and physical health take a decline for the worst. She barely ate, hardly slept, plagued by nightmares as much during the day now then as at night. Marco had started sleeping on her couch in her room just in case her dreams took a turn for the worst (which they often did). It was clear Star was being crushed under the weight of her worries and although she tried to stay strong, Marco wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. At this rate, she wouldn’t be ready to face Heinous when the time came and he wished once again that Star would reconsider letting her parents handle it for her. Star, however, wasn’t budging, determined to face this herself, no matter what. A part of Marco admired her for it, finding it brave and heroic but the other part wished she would stop torturing herself this way. She claimed it was to protect the Monsters but Marco believed there was more to it than that, despite the mental toll it was having on her Star needed to overcome this, so she could finally find peace. And as much as Marco hated himself for it, he understood exactly how she felt.

“Whoa, what happened over here?” a voice called out to them, the four turning to see Kelly, carrying an empty tray over to the table, giving them all a suspicious once over. “Seriously, I thought this was supposed to be a party and yet you guys look as if you’re expecting a murder.”

Star and Marco instantly grew uncomfortable at the remark, shifting awkwardly in their seats. While the much more level headed Jackie kept a straight face, beside her Higgs regarding the hairy teen with sharp criticism. “Uh hey, Kelly,” Marco nervously waved, his guilty smile speaking volumes. “We were just-”

“Talking about something personal, don’t mind us,” Jackie pitched in before Marco could stutter out some unbelievable lie that blew their cover.

Kelly’s eyebrow raised skeptically. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Nope all good,” Star replied, putting on the most believable smile she had in her arsenal, one that Jackie and Marco instantly saw through but luckily it seemed to be enough to convince Kelly.

The girl just shrugged, a relaxed smile lighting up her face. “Good. The last thing we need right now is complications.”

Star swallowed hard, her mask vanishing for just a second but Marco was quick to cut in with a question of his own. “Uh so, Kelly, how’s everything going for you? Do the Monsters like your snacks?”

“They’re called appetizers, Marco,” the Woolett explained, before nodding confidently. “But yeah, they’re a huge success! These Monsters can’t get enough of them! And they’re all super nice too! Way different from serving Mewmans, believe me.” She rolled her eyes at that, causing the others to smile.

“When you’re starved all your life, I guess you learn to appreciate free food,” Star said, making no effort to hide the bitterness there. Kelly picked up on this but didn’t allow her expression to change, holding her ground with the same friendly demeanor that had kicked off this conversation.

“Well whatever the reason, I appreciate the change of pace,” she replied, putting a hand to her hip. “So what’s up with you guys? How come you're hanging out here in the corner like a bunch of weirdos instead of enjoying the party?”

“I would love to but this leg isn’t exactly fit for dancing,” Jackie said, turning so her cast was clearly in Kelly’s view and the Woolett nodded.

“Fair enough. And what about the rest of you? You all got broken legs I don’t know about?”

“We’re just keeping Jackie company,” Star explained.

“Not me, I just hate parties,” Higgs declared, leaning back and resting her legs on the table. “If it weren’t a direct order from Star I would be as far away from here as possible, probably fighting something.”

“Nuh uh, you came because deep down you love us!” Marco brightly declared. Higgs’ cheeks lit up bright red, falling out of her chair in surprise at the sudden declaration. Luckily, her knight instincts kicked in as she rolled with the motion, landing right back on her feet. She coughed once in embarrassment, ignoring all the curious stares on her as she picked up her chair off the floor and sat back down, her head now hanging just a bit lower than before.

“I never said that,” she hissed, before taking a long swig of punch.

The others smiled but said nothing, knowing teasing Higgs would only result in them getting punched and/or threatened. So instead Kelly changed the subject, saying in a vibrant tone, “Gotta say, guys, it looks like your party is a massive success.” Kelly glanced out over the massive cave, the others following her wandering eye, finally seeing the true scope of their little get-together.

Many of the Monsters and Mewmans seemed to have followed their lead, finding a nice, quiet areas off to the side to chat, Star spotting her cousin Rocky engaged in what seemed to be a pleasant conversation with an elephant monster, while others were much more comfortable being the center of attention such as Pony and a squirrel Monster who were each trying to one-up each other in a singing contest. Regardless it seemed everyone was enjoying themselves, many making new friends, such as Alfonso and Ferguson, the latter bragging up his best friend to a group of Monster girls (much to Alfonso’s embarrassment). The dancefloor was packed with eager teens ready to show off their moves, all except one happy couple who were much more interested in each other, Penelope and Slime dancing in perfect unison to each song that filled the dusty cave air. Slime kept a firm grip on Penelope’s waist, while the girl had her slender arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck, allowing them to keep an intimate distance as they glided through each fragile note. And through it all, their eyes remained locked, a deep connection seeming to form as their gazes performed a dance of their own. Star and the others smiled as they watched the happy couple sharing their first dance, Marco tearing up a little as he watched Slime dip Penelope low to the ground, the two’s lips meeting for one fleeting moment.

“I’ll admit I was a bit skeptical at first but you really pulled it off. You should be proud,” Kelly continued, the others just watching on in silent contentment.

“Wow, it’s crazy to think a little party was capable of doing all this,” Star said wistfully, stunned at her own success.

“Hey don’t undersell yourself here,” Jackie spoke up, giving her friend a proud smile. “This party was an awesome idea! Everyone just needed a chance to connect and now, thanks to you, they have!”

Star blushed at the compliment, though she was happy to pass on the credit to someone else, saying, “Oh well, actually the credit should go to Marco, it was his idea in the first place.”

Marco’s head jolted upwards, his mouth stuffed with one of Kelly’s appetizers as his eyes darted around the table. He hadn’t been expecting to be called out so suddenly and without thinking responded with a full mouth, “Oh, um, I just saw it in a movie. Star’s the one who did all the work.” A few crumbs flew from his mouth onto his face as he spoke, the group all holding in their laughter.

Star picked up a napkin and wiped away the bits of food from her boyfriend’s cheeks saying brightly, “You deserve just as much credit as me, Marco. None of this would have ever happened without you!”

Marco swallowed before giving his girlfriend an overly-large grin. “Well it’s thanks to you I was able to make such a difference! You helped change my life and now we get to change people’s lives together.”

Star’s hearts thumped once in unison, an affectionate look crossing over her as she leaned in for a kiss from her sweet boyfriend’s lips. But before they could touch, Higgs loudly huffed, the two freezing to the spot as they remembered they weren’t in private. “Okay we get it. You're both great and you're oh so happy together, now can we move on before I end up catching your gross love bug.”

Star frowned at the knight, while Marco just cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What’s that?” he naively asked.

“Something that isn’t real,” Jackie replied, shooting Higgs a scolding glare which the redhead ignored.

“Tell that to your freaky friend. She and her boyfriend can’t seem to stay away from each other,” Higgs retorted in disgust, making an extra point of rolling her eyes.

“Speaking of, where is Jan and Tom?” Jackie searched the crowd of party-goers but didn’t spot either of her friends around.

“I saw them heading deeper into the cave earlier,” Kelly said, pointing vaguely in that direction. “Probably to make out or something.”

“Of course they did,” Jackie said with an annoyed sigh. She had already told Janna to stay close in case something happened and Star needed their help. But as usual, her roommate was doing whatever she wanted. She was gonna have a serious word with her when they got back to the castle.

Marco on the other hand was overjoyed at the news, loudly proclaiming, “Awww that’s so sweet!”

Higgs gagged and rolled her eyes again but otherwise stayed silent.

“Well, I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves,” Star halfheartedly replied. In all honesty, she would have felt much safer to have both Janna and Tom there for protection but she quickly shrugged the nervousness off. She was being ridiculous, they had every right to live their lives and it wasn’t fair of her to deny them that just so she could feel secure. It was ridiculous thinking anyways, it’s not like anyone was gonna find them out there. She was probably safer where she was than in the castle.

Marco suddenly gasped, coming to a sudden realization as his eyes frantically darted around the crowded cave. “But wait, if they went off alone then where are the twins?!”

“Right here!” Daisy and Violet screamed as they popped out from underneath the table, Marco yelping in terror at the sudden surprise. The others jumped but otherwise kept their composure watching the two girls intensely. The twins giggled at their successful prank, giving the hooded teen an apologetic hug to hopefully keep him from scolding them. “Did we get you, big brother?” Daisy asked mischievously.

“Girls, you know better than to scare Marco like that! You could have given him a heart attack!” Star said in a lecturing tone and the two cringed as they realized the one flaw in their otherwise brilliant plan.

“Sorry Star. We just wanted to surprise our big brother!” Violet innocently stated, batting her eyelids at her cousin in hopes of softening her anger.

Star did seem to calm a little, saying in a gentler voice, “Well maybe next time don’t jump out and scare him, okay?”

“Okkkaaaayyy,” the girls agreed in unison, while crossing their fingers out of the teen’s sight.

“How long were you two down there?” Jackie asked curiously. She was surprised they had managed to stay hidden for so long without anyone noticing.

Both girls shrugged, neither seeming to want to answer the question.

Marco, now fully recovering from his scare, smiled down at the twins, excitedly asking them, “So how are you two liking your first party?”

“It’s awesome!” they both exclaimed, Daisy hopping up and down in joy.

“I got to talk to a whole bunch of really cool Monsters!” Violet shouted, her eyes sparkling in joy.

“And everyone complimented my dress,” Daisy proudly stated, twirling so they could all get a good look at the purple evening gown she had worn.

“And the best part is mom isn’t here to tell us what to do!” Violet added, a wicked grin spreading from cheek to cheek as she rubbed her hands together menacingly.

“Hey, not so fast, your mom left me in charge, remember?” Star said with a smirk.

Violet wasn’t unaffected, scoffing to herself and waving the casual threat off. “Yeah but you're not nearly as strict as her.”

“I can be,” Star argued, crossing her arms in front of her chest, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Daisy laughed that off, saying sweetly, “Aw Star, we know you don’t mean it. You’re almost as big a pushover as big brother.”

“Wait, I’m a pushover!” Marco gasped, looking around at his friends for conformation and to his disappointment they all nodded. He shrunk in his seat, staring glumly down at his half-eaten plate, Star sliding an arm around him and cooing softly in his ear. “Aw, it’s okay, Marco. We all love you just the way you are!”

Marco smiled back, his spirits slightly lifted and he leaned his head against Star in thanks. The blonde’s face lit up red but she managed to keep her cool as she patted him once on the head.

While the others were all collectively holding in their squeals over the happy couple, Daisy’s attention was diverted to Marco’s hoodie pocket, something glowing and buzzing within. She leaned in closer, blinking in curiosity before asking, “Hey, Marco, what’s up with your phone?”

“Huh?” Marco said, sitting up and pulling his phone out from the depths of his hoodie. He could see the tiny display reading ‘missed calls’ and frowned, clicking on the tab. Who was calling him? Buff Frog and the Monsters should have been busy with a mission and everyone else was present and accounted for. But as the name lit up on his screen his eyes widened in realization, muttering to himself, “Oh, it was Dennis.”

#star vs #star vs au #my writing #Light of the Sun and Stars #starco #jantom #spiderslime #preview

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blacktac · 2 years

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Blacktac's dating headcanons because I read too much fanfics recently

s/o=significant other

Luna's the type of person who wouldn't open up at first approach. It would take some time to get to know them and gain their trust, so dating her is certainly quite a challange :> Therefore don't expect her to get all lovey-dovey once you announced your relationship. Also, be wary of the clinginess. It's a big turn off and might even be an ick. Personal space is a bare minimum, learn to respect it. If you wanna get touchy, you have to earn it :D As the realtionship is making progress, the distant is narrowing down

Dating Luna would include:

Late night runs to get some food or do some other shit(night owl intensifies)

Her, drawing you a little too much

Sharing her meals with u(food is gold, be thankful)

Binge-watching new shows

Cuddling with warm blankets wrapped around the two of you

This:

Her, taking you into consideration in almost every reflection that comes to her mind

"I wonder if s/o would like these..."

"What would s/o think?"

"I have to get it in case s/o needs some too"

Her, sending you all of her new memes, even these halfway done

Watching horror movies and clinging onto eachother, then claiming that the jumpscare didn't affect them at all

Flirting with eachother on daily basis, making up pickup lines(mostly cheesy ones)

"Ayo do you know what my shirt is made of? Meme material"

"Don't call me daddy dear, call me MAMMAA instead" it never gets old

Her, giving you gold-worthy advice, that she probably doesn't use herself

Her, forgetting the most of it. "Did I really say that?" It's a shit taken straight out of Men in Black

Romantisizing every little/big event like Christmas or Halloween(definitely redecorating the whole house beacuse of it)

Couple matching outfits are a big yes YES

Aggressively planing your birthday party, it has to be perfect and satisfying. What do you mean by "I don't want one"?? "Sheesh, alright then I'm still gonna make sure it'll be the day and the night ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) that you will never forget"

Gifts being extra meaningful(love language)

Her, making a spotify playlist with tunes that reminds her of you

You, dragging her to bed and begging to get some sleep or staying up late together, not caring about the headache in the morning

Late night conversations about everthing and nothing

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"Ofc babe, I would still spend time with you. Like taking you fishing for example"

"What."

"What?"

Trying out new recipies

Dancing in the kitchen like nobody gives a shit

Her, showing you new bought games and you watching her fail miserably at any of them(still having fun tho)

Both of you competing in smash and you beating the shit outta her

Her, getting mad at you for being good

Cleaning her glasses(she forgets to do so)

Getting a dog or making a compromise by getting a cat

Couple workouts are fairly welcome(chad couple intensifies)

Her, sharing details about her game project with you and asking for your opinion

Your house being the absolute nerd cave(lighsabers hanging above the tv, "world's best boss" cup from the office, bookshelfs filled with comics)

It doesn't have one basic theme, the rooms are just filled with stuff that both of you like

"Instead of a basic toilet paper stand, can we get a banana duck I've found on Aliexpress?"

"No."

"That wasn't very cash money of you :("

Big shopping dates at the gallery:D Love is fun sure, but you know what else brings happiness? Spending money.

Her, helping you pick out outfits that would suit you

Movie or amusement park dates. Luna definitely isn't the most romantic person, they would still treat you as a friend, just with big benefits beacuse your her boo:>

Showing love might not come easly for them, but it doesn't stop her from trying to. Drving you safely home after a date, making sure you got nice winter coat for when it gets cold, making your favourite dish for dinner. These aren't the best confessions of love, but if you manage to notice them, they will make you feel loved and special

#self insert #x reader #dating headcanons #romance

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thefeawl · 1 month

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Perfection

March 24, 2024

“Were I to await perfection, my book would never be finished.” ― Tai T’ung

You will learn as you go along. It's normal to feel scared; if you weren't scared, it wouldn't be worthwhile to do it.

As the late Dr. Wayne Dyer once said, 'Don’t die with the music still in you.' We all have a gift to offer the world, which is the light and love residing within each and every one of us.

I'm guilty of avoiding the light. I couldn't confront my own darkness, and when I finally decided to face it, I realized I was out of practice.

I had to work hard to reach the level of peace I'm experiencing now. I had to train to strengthen my mind, body and soul to slay the dragon. This is it—I am finally at peace.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not perfect. It feels like more than just a new beginning; it feels like the beginning.

I've been sober for over a year now. I've quit all my vices that hindered my connection with my higher self.

After a long and painful journey, it's time for me to actualize myself and become the best version of who I can be.

In the past, whenever I felt bored, scared or uncomfortable, I would turn to alcohol or drugs to detach myself from reality.

If you examine emotional scales more closely, you'll notice that boredom typically falls in the middle of lower and higher emotions.

Above it, you'll find contentment, hopefulness, optimism, all the way up to joy and love. Isn't that what we all desire in the first place? Freedom, bliss, empowerment?

We desire these emotions so much that most of us get lost in them.

Little do we know, love is a gift and thereby cannot be expected.

Indeed, when you expect love, you are out of harmony with it.

You can only receive what you give, and you can only give what you already possess, which ultimately reflects what you are.

If you expect yourself to be loving, even if nobody else is giving you love, then you will be the least influenced by spirits and negativity around you. Because no matter what happens to us, nothing can stop us from being loving.

Where does the concept of perfection fit into this?

Why do we strive to be perfect in the first place? Because we seek to be loved, admired, respected, and more.

Yet, do we truly love ourselves?

If we were the last person left in the world, would we be afraid to live our lives as we've always wanted?

Would we hesitate to write a book, record a song, dance, sing, or simply dress the way we've always desired?

“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” ― Carl Gustav Jung

I heard about a research that authenticity is the highest frequency. The study shows that it is 400 times higher than that of love.

To increase your vibration, you need to be more authentic. In other words, you need to live your truth.

If God created us in its own image it’s logical that we are all creators, we are here to bring positive changes, to make the world a better place.

How do we change the world? We must change our inner world.

Yes, the external world is a reflection of the world inside of us. So, what we consume affects us tremendously. It’s not just drugs and alcohol otherwise every ‘sober’ person would be on a high flying disk.

To me true sobriety is when your mind is free. It’s when you are in complete control of your inner speech. It’s when you wake up in the morning and start your day with joy and gratitude.

True sobriety is when you are the master of yourself.

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sepanbanquet · 3 months

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Modern Love Meets Tradition at Sepan Banquet Hall

Hey there, future newlyweds and wedding enthusiasts! Let’s talk about weddings, but not just any weddings. We’re diving into how these traditional affairs are getting a major revamp, turning into something more vibrant, more personal, and way more fun. And at the heart of this exciting evolution? Sepan Banquet Hall; is a place that’s redefining the way we say “I do.”

Gone are the days when weddings followed a standard script. Today, it’s all about creating an event that’s as unique as the couple themselves. And that’s precisely where Sepan Banquet Hall steps in. We’re not just a venue; our team is a trendsetter, a dream weaver in the world of modern nuptials.

Challenge the Notion So, you’ve heard people say traditional weddings are losing their charm, right? Well, let’s flip that script. Traditional isn’t fading; it’s evolving, and Sepan Banquet Hall is leading the charge. Here, the essence of classic weddings melds seamlessly with contemporary twists, breathing new life into the age-old institution of marriage.

At Sepan Banquet Hall, we believe in keeping the spirit of wedding celebrations alive but with a fresh, modern touch. Imagine combining time-honored traditions with personalized elements that speak volumes about who you are as a couple. That’s what we offer: a blend of the old and new, crafting celebrations that are both meaningful and memorable.

Breaking the Mold with New Age Ideas Now, let’s talk ideas, and trust us, there’s no shortage of them at Sepan Banquet Hall. We’re seeing a wave of unconventional wedding themes, tech integration, and mouth-watering fusion cuisines.

Unconventional Themes: From boho chic to industrial glam, couples are steering away from the conventional and embracing themes that tell their story. Sepan Banquet Hall has seen it all and is equipped to bring any vision to life.

Tech-Savvy Celebrations: In an era where technology rules, weddings are not left behind. Live streaming for distant loved ones, interactive digital guestbooks, and even drone photography – we’re all in on tech!

Fusion Cuisines: Food is a big deal, and at Sepan, it’s more than just a meal; it’s an experience. We’re talking about combining culinary traditions from around the globe, all the way from Mediterranean food to Mexican cuisine to create a feast that’s as unique as your love story.

And what about entertainment? At Sepan Banquet Hall, we’re seeing a shift towards more interactive and engaging forms of entertainment. Picture live bands that play not just music but create an ambiance, or DJs who curate playlists that are a mix of global beats and timeless classics. Imagine a dance floor that’s always full because the music is just that good. We also love the idea of incorporating performances that reflect the couple’s cultural heritage, adding a deeply personal touch to the festivities. It’s these elements that transform a wedding from a mere gathering to an immersive experience for everyone involved.

How Sepan Stands Out But ideas are just the start. The magic lies in bringing these concepts to life, and that’s where Sepan Banquet Hall shines. Our halls are decked out with the latest tech, stunning décor options, and flexible venues that can adapt to any theme or size. Whether it’s an intimate gathering or a grand affair, we’ve got the perfect setting.

Experienced Staff and Personalization at Its Best Our team isn’t just skilled; they’re passionate about making your day perfect. From planners to chefs, every staff member works tirelessly to ensure your wedding is nothing short of spectacular.

Personalization is the name of the game at Sepan Banquet Hall. Your wedding should be as unique as your fingerprint, and we’re here to make sure of that. From the initial planning stages to the final send-off, every element of your wedding is customized. We listen, we suggest, we tweak, and we perfect – all to align with what you envision for your special day.

Creating Unique Experiences It’s not just about the big picture but also the tiny details that make your wedding stand out. Personalized menus, custom decor, and even specific lighting to set the mood – we leave no stone unturned.

In the realm of décor, the possibilities at Sepan Banquet Hall are endless. We’re talking about customizing themes down to the tiniest detail. Love the idea of a rustic, country-style wedding? Think burlap runners, mason jar centerpieces, and twinkling fairy lights. Dreaming of a sleek, modern affair? Picture minimalist designs, elegant color palettes, and sophisticated floral arrangements. Our team works closely with you to ensure that the décor not only matches your theme but also reflects your personal style. It’s about creating a space that feels unmistakably ‘you’.

Pioneering Modern Weddings in Los Angeles So in a nutshell, Sepan Banquet Hall isn’t just keeping up with modern wedding trends; it’s setting them. Our goal is to make your wedding not just a day to remember but an experience that leaves a lasting impression on you and your guests. So, for those looking to tie the knot in a way that’s uniquely theirs, look no further. Sepan Banquet Hall is where contemporary meets class, where your wedding dreams become a reality. Let’s start this journey together and make your “I do” moment as special and individual as your love story. Welcome to the new era of weddings at Sepan Banquet Hall, where every celebration is an expression of modern love.

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bharatinterior · 6 months

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Elegance Evolved: The Art of Interior Design

When it comes to transforming a space from drab to fab, it's not just about choosing the right color for your walls or the trendiest furniture pieces. It's an art, a science, and a creative process that goes beyond the surface. In the enchanting city of Udaipur, where history and tradition meet modernity, the need for exceptional interior design has never been more prominent. Bharat Interior, your go-to interior designers company in Udaipur, understands the intricate dance of aesthetics and functionality. Join us on a journey through the world of interior design and discover how it can shape your living spaces into something truly extraordinary.

The Essence of Interior Design

Crafting Elegance from Chaos

Imagine walking into a room that feels like a warm embrace, where every element seems to have its place, and the overall vibe is nothing short of magical. That's the power of interior design. At Bharat Interior, we are passionate about creating interiors that resonate with your personality and lifestyle. Our team of best interior designers in Udaipur knows how to bring out the elegance in any space, be it your home or office.

A Symphony of Elements

Interior design is a harmonious blend of color, texture, furniture, lighting, and more. Each element plays a crucial role in achieving the perfect balance of aesthetics and functionality. Our residential interior designers in Udaipur are experts in orchestrating this symphony. We carefully select and arrange these elements to create a space that not only looks great but also feels right.

The Art and Science of Interior Design

Beyond Aesthetics: Functionality Matters

Aesthetics alone do not make a great interior design. It must also serve a purpose. The best architecture company in Udaipur, like Bharat Interior, understands that a well-designed space should be functional, convenient, and tailored to your specific needs. We focus on creating designs that enhance your daily life, making your spaces more efficient and enjoyable.

A Splash of Color

Choosing the right colors for your interior is an art in itself. Colors can influence our moods and perceptions, and our interior design services in Udaipur consider this fact. We know how to use color to set the tone of a room. Whether you want a cozy, tranquil bedroom or a vibrant, energetic workspace, we've got you covered.

Bharat Interior: Your Trusted Partner

The Power of Personalization

At Bharat Interior, we believe that no two spaces should be alike. We understand that each client is unique, and so are their needs and preferences. That's why we take the time to get to know you and your vision. We want to create a space that is a reflection of your personality and style, not just a cookie-cutter design.

Melding Tradition and Modernity

Udaipur is a city that beautifully encapsulates the essence of tradition and modernity. We, as your trusted interior designers company in Udaipur, appreciate this unique blend. Our designs often draw inspiration from the rich cultural heritage of the city while integrating contemporary elements to keep your space relevant and fresh.

Why Choose Bharat Interior?

Quality Craftsmanship and Attention to Detail

Our commitment to quality is unwavering. We work with skilled artisans and craftsmen who bring our designs to life with precision and dedication. Every detail, from the choice of materials to the finishing touches, is meticulously thought out and executed.

Affordable Luxury

Interior design shouldn't be a luxury reserved for the elite. At Bharat Interior, we offer affordable yet luxurious design solutions. We believe that everyone deserves to live in a beautifully designed space that makes them feel special.

From Concept to Completion

Our interior design services in Udaipur are comprehensive. We take care of every step of the design process, from the initial concept to the final implementation. You can relax and watch your dream space come to life while we handle all the details.

Your Dream Space Awaits

Transforming Dreams into Reality

At Bharat Interior, we are in the business of transforming dreams into reality. We understand that your space is more than just four walls; it's an extension of your personality and aspirations. Let us be your partner in creating a space that not only wows your guests but also enriches your daily life.

Your Vision, Our Expertise

When you choose Bharat Interior, you're not just hiring a design firm. You're partnering with a team of passionate, skilled, and dedicated professionals who are committed to making your vision a reality. Your satisfaction is our ultimate goal.

Get Started Today

Your journey towards an elegantly designed space begins now. Contact Bharat Interior, the best interior designers company in Udaipur, and let's discuss your project. We are excited to work with you to create a space that reflects your personality, fulfills your needs, and adds a touch of elegance to your life.

In conclusion, the art of interior design is a fusion of creativity, functionality, and personalized aesthetics. In the charming city of Udaipur, Bharat Interior stands as a beacon of excellence in this field. We, as the best interior designers company in Udaipur, are committed to enhancing your living spaces with our expert craftsmanship and innovative design solutions. Your dream space is just a consultation away, so reach out to us today and let's embark on the journey of transforming your space into a work of art.

#interior designers company in udaipur #best interior designers company in udaipur #best architecture company in udaipur #residential interior designers in Udaipur #interior design services in Udaipur

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crypto-currency0099988 · 7 months

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A Wedding Day to Remember: Mechanics Hall Offers Unparalleled Facilities and Services"

Introduction: Welcome to Mechanics Hall, where we promise to make your wedding day a truly memorable one. From early planning to the grand event, our dedicated staff will be there every step of the way. So sit back, relax, and let us handle all the details while you enjoy the romance of your special day. Let's dive into the magic that awaits you at Mechanics Hall!

About Mechanics Hall

### Introduction ### So, you've finally found the one you want to annoy for the rest of your life, and now it's time to plan that unforgettable wedding day. But where do you start? Don't worry, because Mechanics Hall has got your back! From the moment you step into this historic venue, you'll be swept away by its timeless b a quick bite. Need some alone time with your significant other? We've got you covered. And for the little ones, we have designated spaces where they can watch videos or play, away from the main event. Because hey, we know how important it is to keep everyone entertained and happy on your special day. ### Global Traditions Welcomed ### At Mechanics Hall, we celebrate diversity and welcome wedding traditions from all around the globe. Our knowledgeable and experienced staff are well-versed in different customs and will be more than happy to accommodate your specific cultural traditions. So whether you want to include a traditional dance, a unique ceremony, or any other cultural element, we've got your back. Your wedding day should reflect who you are as a couple, and we're here to make sure that happens. ### Contact Information ### Ready to make your dream wedding a reality? Get in touch with us today! Shoot us an email at [email protected] or give us a call at 508-752-5608. Our friendly staff will be more than happy to answer all your questions and help you plan the wedding day of your dreams. Don't wait any longer, because your happily ever after starts here! Now that you know all about the unparalleled facilities and services that Mechanics Hall has to offer, it's time to start planning your perfect wedding day. So go ahead, let your imagination run wild and create a wedding day to remember. Trust us, with Mechanics Hall by your side, your special day is bound to be nothing short of magical. Happy planning!

Facilities and Services

### Introduction ### Weddings, oh what joyous occasions they are! The planning, the anticipation, the stress of making sure every detail is absolutely perfect. But fear not, for here at Mechanics Hall, we are experts at creating wedding days that are truly unforgettable. From the moment you step through our doors, you'll be whisked away into a world of elegance and romance. And don't worry about a thing, because our dedicate04-pipe Hook organ, your wedding is sure to be a sight to behold. And when you and your wedding party need a moment to relax and recharge, we have several private rooms available for respite, dressing, or even snacking. Trust our knowledgeable and experienced staff to guide you through the planning process and bring your vision to life. ### Facilities and Services ### When it comes to creating a wedding day to remember, Mechanics Hall pulls out all the stops. With our timeless elegance and intimate spaces, we ensure that every moment of your special day is nothing short of perfection. And because we believe that your wedding deserves undivided attention, we book no other events on your chosen date. That's right, all eyes and resources will be focused solely on you and your guests. From the early planning stages to the execution of your meticulously crafted vision, our dedicated staff will be there to assist you every step of the way. So go ahead, relax, and truly enjoy the romance of your wedding day. After all, you deserve it! ### Vendor Selection ### Who doesn't love having options? At Mechanics Hall, we understand that each couple has a unique vision for their wedding day, which is why we give you the freedom to choose your own caterers, florists, and musici it's only natural for the wedding party to need a moment to catch their breath. At Mechanics Hall, we understand the importance of having dedicated spaces for respite, dressing, and even snacking. Our private rooms provide the perfect sanctuary for you and your loved ones to recharge and prepare for the festivities ahead. And for the little ones who may need a break from the main event, we have child-friendly spaces where they can watch videos or engage in playful activities. Because after all, a wedding should be a joyous occasion for guests of all ages. So take a moment to relax and rejuvenate in our private spaces – you deserve it! ### Global Traditions Welcomed ### Love knows no boundaries, and neither does Mechanics Hall. Our knowledgeable and experienced staff are well-versed in wedding traditions from around the globe. Whether you're incorporating cultural customs or looking for something more unique, we welcome the opportunity to meet your expectations. From traditional ceremonies to modern celebrations, we'll ensure that every detail is executed with precision and respect. So let us be a part of your love story, and together, we'll create a wedding day that honors your heritage and leaves a lasting impression. ### Contact Informate understand that it should be nothing short of magical. With our stunning venue, personalized attention, and a team of experts by your side, your wedding day will truly be one to remember. So let us take care of the details while you focus on what matters most – enjoying the romance, love, and joy of your special day. Trust us, you're in good hands at Mechanics Hall.

Vendor Selection

### Vendor Selection ### When it comes to selecting vendors for your wedding at Mechanics Hall, you are the boss! Choose your own caterers, florists, and musicians/DJs to make your special day a reflection of your unique vision and budget. Want a gourmet feast? Sure, why not! Feel like rocking out to a live band? Absolutely! And don't forget to capture all those beautiful moments with professional photographers. Trust us, you'll want to remember every detail of this epic celebration. So go ahead and curate your dream team of vendors, because at Mechanics Hall, it's all about making your wedding day as extraordinary as you are.

The Grand Hall

Finally, we've arrived at the highlight of Mechanics Hall - The Grand Hall! Get ready to be blown away by its grandeur and elegance. This magnificent space offers everything you need to make your wedding reception a truly memorable one. First off, we have an open dance floor, so you and your guests can show off your moves and dance the night away. Don't worry about the music either because we have concert grand pianos and a 3,504-pipe Hook organ to serenade you and your loved ones. And let's not forget about the lighting and sound accents that add that extra touch of magic to your special day. So get ready to make some unforgettable memories in The Grand Hall at Mechanics Hall! Now, if you're worried that all this grandeur might make the space feel overwhelming, don't be! The atmosphere is perfectly balanced, creating a warm and inviting ambiance. We've thoughtfully designed this space to ensure that it feels cozy and intimate, even with a large crowd. So put on your dancing shoes, get ready to strike a pose, and let the music fill the air as you celebrate your love story in the enchanting setting of The Grand Hall at Mechanics Hall. Trust us, it's an experience you won't want to miss!

Private Spaces

Private Spaces: After the ceremony, you and your wedding party deserve a little break, right? Well, Mechanics Hall has got you covered. We offer several private rooms where you can relax, change into your reception attire, or even sneak in a quick snack to keep your energy up. No more awkwardly trying to find a corner in the hallway to fix your hair or touch up your makeup. And hey, we haven't forgotten about the little ones either. We have dedicated child-friendly spaces where they can be entertained and enjoy themselves away from the main event. We strive to take care of every little detail so you can focus on enjoying your special day. Who knew wedding planning could be this stress-free? #OhThePlacesYoullGo #RestedAndReady #KidsHaveFunToo

Global Traditions Welcomed

Global Traditions Welcomed: Our staff is full of worldly experts in wedding traditions from around the globe. We've seen it all, from traditional Hindu ceremonies to whimsical Irish handfastings. So go ahead, incorporate that cultural dance or wear that traditional attire. We'll be there to make sure your wedding day is a beautiful blend of global traditions. Cheers to celebrating love in every way possible!

Contact Information

At Mechanics Hall, we make your special day all about you. No distractions, no other events booked on your wedding day. It's all about you and your guests being the center of our attention. Our staff is there for you every step of the way, from the early planning stages to the big event. So sit bg or give us a call at 508-752-5608. Can't wait to make your wedding day a day to remember!

Conclusion

Who doesn't want a wedding day to remember? Well, at Mechanics Hall, they offer unparalleled facilities and services to make your big day absolutely unforgettable. From the early planning stages to the grand event, their staff will be there to assist you every step of the way.

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