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melk917 · 7 months

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We can do it in the pouring rain

Warnings: Making out, promises of future filth

Rating: M

Pairing: Rafael Barba x f!Reader

Summary: The heat finally breaks

Song Vibes: Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones

Notes: What? A fic? From me? Who am I?!

Honestly, this is the first time I've opened my personal computer since moving in May. This is rough, super under edited, and not my best work, but it is finished! And so here you go, only a few years gap between this and the last time I posted something from this series. Please let me know if there are any typos or errors!

Motivation and inspiration coming from a straight week of rain here in New York, peaking with the city flooding and all transport shutting down. It was charming here....

It had felt like New York was holding its breath for days—that sort of late August heat that lays heavy on the city. It was thick, swollen, and hot, the only relief coming from the rush of air as the subway charged past the platform. No matter what you did, sweat poured off of you. Going anywhere, moving at all really, was too much. It left you exhausted and irritable. You were ready to start sacrificing to the gods if the infernal heat would just break. Surely it was close? The air was so thick, you swore you could feel it pass over your skin as you walked, like the cling of a damp curtain in the shower, irritating but determined.

Even sitting inside at the bar at Forlini’s, you felt like you were melting, sweat making your thighs stick to the cracked leather of the stool. The A/C unit above the door groaned and wheezed, rattling away in vain as it struggled to cool the restaurant. Despite its best efforts, sweat trickled down the back of your neck, dampening the back of your shirt and leaving you utterly miserable.

Rafael, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed. His only concession to the heat was to abandon his jacket and roll his sleeves. He had pulled his tie loose, but had yet to remove it completely. He wasn’t flushed. He wasn’t even sweating. You hated him just a little bit for it. Even more for the amused twist of his lips when you shifted again, fanning yourself with the menu.

“You doing ok over there?” He raised his eyebrows at you, humor laced through the question as you pressed your glass to your neck, hoping the ice in your drink would cool you down.

You leveled a glare at him. “You know, the A/C actually works in the apartment. We can even mix our own drinks there. And the shower has endless cold water.”

He scooted closer as more people filed in and pressed up against the bar next to him. You grunted in displeasure as he invaded your personal space and you could feel the body heat radiating off him in waves. He huffed in amusement and ducked forward to press a kiss behind your ear as he took your glass from your hand and placed it back on the counter. He stroked his thumb along the line of your neck, tracing the path left behind by the condensation on the glass. You tried to squirm away, but the sudden influx of patrons had him now almost flush against you with nowhere to go.

“There room for two in that shower if I promise to get you home now?” His voice was low and the brush of his breath across your skin had you shivering despite the heat.

You snorted and shoved at him lightly so you could get out, wincing when you had to practically peel yourself off the leather. “Stop sharing your infernal body heat with me and we’ll see.”

He lifted his eyes to nod at the bartender before pulling you the rest of the way to your feet. The press of bodies had gotten tighter and the next chime of the bell over the door brought with it the yelps and shrieks of people ducking inside and the thick smell of petrichor.

“Oh shit.”

Your heart sank at the view out the windows.The heat had finally broken, and broken spectacularly. You could hardly see the street through the curtain of water. A cloud burst, dumping without warning.

“Fuck we should go. Call a car. We don’t want to get stuck on this side of the bridge.”

He was a step ahead of you, already scrolling through the apps on his phone. You peered through the glass, watching water rush down Baxter Street, eddies and rivers running through the gutters.The rain was coming down so fast the city struggled to drain effectively.

Behind you Rafael cursed softly, and when you turned, his eyebrows were almost in his hairline.

“$180 to Brooklyn,” he explained, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shit.” You breathed out hard and bounced on your toes one, twice, three times. “Fuck it. Canal is right around the corner.”

Rafael’s head jerked up in surprise. His gazed dropped, eyeing your silk blouse and flats skeptically. “You really want to run for it?” He ran a nervous hand over his silk tie.

“Last time a storm broke this fast, people were stranded in Manhattan overnight. I’m not sleeping in your office.”

His lips parted and he looked for half a second like he was going to object. But then he was breathing out hard, popping open his briefcase to shove his jacket and tie inside. “Fine. But you’re dealing with the dry cleaning.”

“Run fast, and maybe you won’t have to worry about that,” you taunted back with a smirk and tugged the door open, ducking out in the street, Rafael right behind you.

You were immediately dumped on, assaulted by sheets and sheets of rain. It hit you like a slap across the face, cool and sharp, soaking your hair and clothes. The sheer volume of water made you gasp and curse. You took off down the street in the direction of the subway, Rafael at your heels, swearing and holding his briefcase over his head as a makeshift umbrella.

The Canal Street stop really was just around the corner, but it made no difference. The rainfall was so heavy that it obscured critical information until you were right in front of it: the construction materials and tape that was strung up across the entrance, blocking the stairs. This particular subway entrance was closed.

“Fuck!” you shouted, shading your eyes from the rain and casting around for Rafael, unable to see him through the fall of water.

You were utterly saturated, your blouse soaked through and clinging tight to your body like saran wrap. Rafael wasn’t faring much better as he pulled up next to you, splashing his way along. Rain water was pouring off him, cascading down the sides of his face, over his chest. His shirt was plastered to his skin, white fabric gone transparent and clinging to the muscles of his chest, his arms. In another time and place, you would have appreciated the view. As it was, there were more pressing matters.

“What now?” Rafael was squinting, wiping at the water in his eyes as he pitched his voice to be heard above the rain.

Before you could open your mouth to answer, a cab drove by, tearing down the street at a speed that was highly inadvisable in the low visibility and kicking up a wave of water from the gutter, sending it crashing over both of you.

You stood frozen, eyes and mouth wide in shock. You expected a shout or a curse from Rafael, at least. Some threat against the universe for ruining his suit. But instead there was a long pause and you turned slowly to face him. He met your eyes, resembling a drowned rat more than anything else. He looked just as shocked as you, mouth gaping, holding his arms away from his sides as though it might keep the water off of him. He paused, chest expanding as he took a deep breath (for the tirade of curses against the rain, you assumed). But instead he threw his head back, laughing. Full, loud, and bright as the crack of lightning that flashed across the city skyline. And when he finally straightened up to look at you, he shook his head, water flying everywhere.

“We’re fucked!” You threw your arms in the air.

“I know!” he shouted back, grinning.

Your annoyance flared hot, and you wiped at your eyes angrily, cursing when you pulled your fingers away to see them smeared with mascara, the water catching on your eyelashes and making it run. He was still laughing, mirth loud enough to be audible over the rain.

“What the hell are you so happy about?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. Your silk shirt was completely saturated with the rain water and plastered to your breasts, your nipples hard and obvious through the thin fabric. He dragged his gaze down your body and back with a significant look.

You crossed your arms, frowning, shoulders hunched to hide from his leering with a glare. It did little to hide anything, just pushing them up further for him to appreciate.

And he was undeterred by the dirty looks you threw in his direction, advancing on you slowly, a predatory sway to his step. You took half a step back and then another in a futile attempt to put space between you as he crowded close, advancing until your back hit something hard, the nearest building pulling you up short. Your breath caught, the rough brick snagging on the thin silk of your shirt, scratching at your back and pulling at your hair. His eyes flashed, triumphant as he leaned close. He dipped his chin to slowly drag the point of his nose along your neck, nuzzling. His breath was hot, the contrast with the cool rain making you shiver against him, a tiny flare of want pulsing low in your belly against your better judgment.

“Rafael.” You injected as much steel as you could in your voice, a warning. The insolent smile he gave you in response did not indicate success.

“This was your idea,” he reminded you, breath warm on your skin as he pressed an open-mouth kiss behind your ear.

You managed to swallow the small, pathetic whimper that threatened to slip out in response, even as your fingers curled into the sodden fabric of his shirt. Not shoving him away, but not pulling him close either.

“Not this idea,” you managed, voice going breathy when he pressed another kiss to the same spot, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin this time. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

He pulled back just far enough to meet your eyes, a single suggestive eyebrow inching up. “I think we just got everything out of the gutter.”

You snorted in spite of yourself and he winked. The rain was still coming down in sheets, but he was catching the brunt of it now as he leaned over you, beating down on his back and shoulders, catching on the ends of his hair, dripping off his nose to fall on your cheeks as he pressed close.

“We need to get home,” you pointed out, but he only hummed in response, ducking back low to brush his lips over the shell of your ear.

“No cab is going to take us if we’re soaked through,” you tried again, breath mingling with his as he turned, lips just grazing yours in a tease that made your breath catch and your fingers clench in his shirt.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re already soaked through.” His voice was a low, amused rumble as he pressed light kisses along your jaw, licking lightly at the rainwater that continued to run down from your hair.

He was right of course. His shirt was plastered to his torso, white fabric gone translucent. You shoved lightly at him till he leaned back, and you couldn’t help but drop your gaze to take in the shape of him. How the shirt molded to all the curves and angles of him, his biceps and pecs obvious, every minute twitch and flex clear. Heat flared in you unbidden, licking up your spine as he slipped his one hand under your shirt to splay across your low back. His modesty was only preserved by his undershirt or you were certain you’d see his nipples, conspicuous and dark, through the fabric. It was honestly a shame about the undershirt you thought, flattening your hands on his chest, swallowing the soft noise that threatened to slip out at the feel of his muscles shifting as he stroked your skin.

He smirked down at you, clearly following the path your thoughts had taken. You tweaked a nipple through his shirt in retaliation, and he jerked, grunting.

You went to repeat the motion and he grabbed your wrist, pressing it to the wall up next to your head. Want flared bright in you like the burst of lightning that cut through the sky.

“This was your idea,” he reminded you, an amused twitch to his lips as he leaned down again, his breath ghosting across your skin.

You shivered then gasped as he scraped his teeth down your throat. “My idea was to take the train. This is not taking the train.”

He hummed, kissing his way back up your neck. “No. No, it’s not.”

“We should do that.”

“In a minute.” He ducked low to brush another kiss across your lips. Your breath caught in your throat as those long, clever fingers dipped under the waistband of your skirt, stroking. “We’re stuck here now. Might as well make the best of it.”

“And what’s that?” You slid your hands up his sides, feeling the solid shape of him through the shirt, the heat of him, before curling them in the sodden fabric and tugging him forward before he could answer.

The thud of his brief case hitting the pavement was lost over the roar of the rain and he had you boxed you in, one forearm pressed into the brick next to your head as he used the other to cradle your jaw in a firm grip, tilting your head as he dipped down to press his lips to yours.

The kiss was feather light, in contrast to your urgent tugging, warm rain running across your lips as he met yours with quick, barely there presses, teasing. You could feel the flex of his chest under your palms, the solid weight of him, and you tugged more insistently, chasing his mouth.

He laughed (the bastard), his breath brushing hot across your lips. “I thought you wanted to head to the train?” he murmured against your mouth in between kisses.

You pulled back enough to glare at him and slid both hands into his wet hair in retaliation, gripping tight and pulling him back down to you to kiss him hard. You felt the rumble of his answering groan where his chest was pressed firm against yours as he fought you for control of the kiss, working his tongue against the seam of your lips until you parted them, gasping, and he licked into your mouth, swallowing the soft, needy sound that bubbled up unbidden.

The kiss was hot, like the press of the August heat, and burned pleasantly as you chased the last of the whiskey he drank earlier. Moaning, you curled your hands over his biceps to haul him closer, opening up to him. Water was dripping down his face from his hair in rivulets, pooling in his collarbone under his shirt.

His hands skated down your sides to grasp your hips, your thighs. He scraped his teeth down your neck and you gasped, arching to press into his hold and chase that urgent electricity that raced down your spine to pool in your stomach. He took advantage, licking lightly at the rainwater that was pooling in your collar bone before applying lips and tongue to the thin skin at the base of your throat, working until he could feel the heat of your blood rushing to the surface, leaving a mark, dark and obvious against your skin. The pain of bursting vessels had you gasping, fingers digging into his biceps as you rolled your hips forward, heat flaring between your legs as he marked you up.

He groaned as you rolled your hips again, firm against his, the hard line of his cock obvious through his soaked pants. It was impossible to differentiate where the heat was coming from now, his whole body throwing it off in waves like a furnace. With an urgent noise, he hauled you closer, tugging your leg up and wide until the two of you slotted together perfectly. He rocked against you, grinding his cock along the line of your hip, and dipped his head further, ducking down so he could pull the open collar of your shirt aside with his teeth and lick at the curve of your breasts, chasing the rain as it traced a stream in the valley between. The water made them glisten, and he couldn’t help it, applying lips and teeth and tongue to every inch of soft flesh he could reach.

Both of you had forgotten the rain at this point. Nothing registered other than the press of your bodies together and the fervor you’re stoking between the two of you. You were so caught up in him, his mouth on your breasts, his cock hard against your hip, loving how every tug on his hair made him lose focus and rut against you. In retaliation, or maybe just blind need, Rafa slid his hand down your thigh and back up under your sodden skirt, fingers brushing against your soaked panties, groaning at the slick heat of you.

A sharp wolf-whistle cut through the sound of the rain and your lust, a group of teenagers running past on the sidewalk, their shouts and encouragement breaking the spell you had spun between the two of you.

Rafa pulled back so fast, you almost fell over, his face flushing bright red as he cast around for the voyeurs. You reached up to cup his face, turning him back to you and grinned as he used the hand he had just had up your skirt to push his soaked hair back from his face.

“Maybe now it’s time we headed to the train,” he suggested, more than a little abashed.

You dropped a significant look at his crotch, the soaked fabric of his pants clinging to his cock and making his arousal painfully obvious. “I think you might get arrested for indecent exposure with that, counselor.”

He followed your gaze and huffed a laugh, cheeks bright red. He shifted from foot to foot and tried to pull his slacks away, but to no avail. Finally, he picked his briefcase up off the ground and held it in front of the issue, giving you a small, triumphant grin. He held out his other hand and squeezed when you laced your fingers together.

“Come on." You grinned at him through the rain. "Let’s get home and you can fuck me in the shower. I’ll even keep my clothes on to keep the fantasy alive.”

Rafa snorted and used your joint hands to pull you close so he could lean in and kiss you, quick and full of promise.

“Ok, but I’m taking mine off. I’d like to at least keep the illusion that this suit can be saved.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but laughed at the serious look on his face. “Whatever you want, dear.”

#rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #rafael barba x f!reader #the full ratchet #melk917fantasybingo #svu fic

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bbgatile · 2 years

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i started reading some comics a few days ago. mtmte is great and all but have you read the mlp continuity. its got the perfect amount of sillyness and earnestness.

#transformers #optimus prime #knock out #ratchet #twilight sparkle #rarity #this is mostly about the tf part but ig theres no harm in tagging the ponies too #anyway surprise im full throttle into tf now. i am so sorry for promising anything else but #the robots got me #ant art

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cyberrose2001 · 9 months

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Imagine cock warming Ratchet well he works ❤️❤️❤️

imagining this so intensely, im so damn worked up over him rn hggg here’s a drabble

The only time Ratchet would ever do this is in the privacy of his quarters, aft planted in a chair while he tinkers with some equipment. Even though Ratchet can always be well and truly occupied with pieces of scrap metal, for extended periods, he’ll get bored. So that's where you come in.

With his thick spike stuffed so deep inside you, he’ll keep you on his lap. The tightness of your warm hole being just enough to keep him motivated during these long hours of work, knowing that afterwards, he’ll be free to fuck you silly until you’re flooding with his stickiness.

But until then, he’ll continue his work. Every little whine from you vibrates his spike, every little writhe of your tight body he feels. Ratchet knows that you’re becoming restless when you start to discretely roll your hips forward, and he has to stop himself from giving in as your aching walls drag deliciously along his throbbing spike.

“Not yet, kid,” He hushes your whimpers, moving a servo to your hip to stop you from moving any further, “Just a little while longer, can you do that for me?”

You give him another whine, pawing at the tightly gripped servo on your hip, but you obey his command. Ratchet hums, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your temple as he pushes your hips further onto his thick spike.

“There you go, sweetspark.” He pats your thigh, “Be patient and I’ll let you ride my spike soon enough.”

#i wanna be stuffed full of the old bot <3 #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp ratchet #tfp ratchet x reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites #asks

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blitzy-blitzwing · 1 year

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So the last page originally looked like this ⬆️until I decided to redo it.⬇️ ✌️😃

#I needed to draw a full body Ratchet #so that’s what I did #I forgot her hand tho on the other one #but I loved how it came out #😃😃#my artwork #TFA #maccadam

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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If tfa and prime met what would happen

Short answer: Lots of adoption on TFP Optimus's part.

I don't really feel like deep diving into all the characters individually since I have a plan for an au based on this general idea, so I will try to keep things fairly concise.

In regards to both Primes meeting, it would likely be very respectful. TFP Optimus would respect the hell out of TFA Optimus for holding his own and doing so much at such a young age. And TFA would similarly be in awe of TFP Optimus for his skill, power, authority, and the fact that he is practically a demi-god by nearly any standard. TFP would do his best to train and guide his younger counterpart and silently begin gathering up adoption papers the moment he finds out about TFA Optimus's past. What's one more sparkling anyways? TFP Optimus already has half a dozen of both Cybertronian and human origin. Oh and then would you look at that! All the other TFA bots are suffering from something and need a dad! Where did those additional adoption papers come from? Who knows!

The Ratchets meeting would be less than exemplary. They would still respect each other, but their meeting would quickly turn into a match to determine which of them is better than the other. They would compare circumstances, throw their respective pasts and achievements at the other like live grenades. And they would also debate heavily on their differing medical knowledge, leading them to get into an actual brawl over T-cogs until they realized that differing biology is the only thing causing their argument. There would also be a degree of anger as TFP gets on TFA's case about their government (not that TFA Ratchet disagrees that Cybertron's government is awful, he just doesn't like listening to a much more maintained version of himself saying it).

The Bumblebees would have an... interesting meeting. Their differences would be a bit much to make them respect the other in the way that the Optimus's do. But they would get along well enough and develop a friendship nearly right off the bat in response to TFA's excitableness and TFP's competitiveness. The roads would be completely covered in tire markings by the time their meeting comes to an end. TFP doesn't like leaving a challenged unmet and TFA is in his own words "the fastest thing on wheels".

The Bulkheads would get along fine. TFA would be happy to simply sit and discuss the woes of having to look after a human child with TFP would would strongly agree. A good chunk of their meeting would revolve around sharing their respective hobbies, experiences, and their differing ways of handling children. TFP would find TFA's artistic abilities amazing since he has always considered himself unable to perform such artistic pursuits due to his size.

The Ultra Magnus's would hate each other immediately simply because of vibes. TFP would hate his counterpart for being such an aft to everyone and running the most corrupt government he has seen since before the war. And TFA would hate TFP because "What the pits are you doing running a team of mongrels and serving under a mere Prime?". The miscommunication would be increadible as neither would be fully willing or capable of explaining things to the other. In the end their meetings would turn into the most passive aggressive debate known to Cybertronian kind.

The two Decepticon factions would hate each other on principle. The TFA Decepticons would be disgusted at the lack of any and all honor and TFP would hate the idea of competition and weakness among their counterparts. It just wouldn't end well.

As for the bots whose counterparts would be too far away or nonexistent? They would have a grand old time causing chaos and watching both their worlds turn upside down due to the meeting of their universes.

#maccadam #transformers prime #transformers animated #optimus prime #bulkhead #ratchet #bumblebee #ultra magnus #decepticons #universe meetup go!#by the time the meeting ends TFP op will have collected a full collection of children!

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 5 months

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I'm now wondering how the relationships between sari and the autobots be different in the full cybertronian sari au, I don't think it would be that different but still interesting I think.

-Optimus practically makes her another member of the team, kinda like he did Prowl. In contrast to cannon, where he worries about her frailty as a human, as a full fledged bot he trusts that she can take care of herself more. Still looks out for her though and tries to teach her everything about being an autobot. Actually gives her a badge.

-Ratchet immediately gives her a full on medical examination, knowing that she's never been given one by an actual medic. Once he's sure that she's healthy he starts teaching her about basic cybertronian self care. While she's probably figured out some of it, there's still a lot of stuff she should know. Also very patient in explaining cybertronian culture to her.

-Very similar to cannon, Bumblebee and Sari quickly become best friends. Since she's got an alt mode they often race and compete against each other. Thinks it's cool that she was raised on Earth and is kinda jealous since that made her a bit of a celebrity. Promises to show her the coolest spots on Cybertron.

-Also very similar to cannon, Bulkhead and Sari becomes quick friends. Very fascinated with how it was growing up on Earth as a bot but tries not to be rude about it. Asks if she wants him to teach her how to fight.

-Now Prowl probably has the biggest reaction. Immediately he connects her appearance on Earth with the protoforms that were stolen from the dojo. In the beginning, he asks her a lot of questions about where she came from but when it becomes clear that she doesn't know, he instead turns his attention towards professor Sumdac. Will not rest until he knows the truth. Meanwhile, he also treats Sari extremely gently. He kinda feels responsible for her and looks out for her even more than in cannon.

#transformers imagine #transformers animated #full cybertronian sari au #sari sumdac #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #bulkhead #prowl

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transingthoseformers · 6 months

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unpopular opinion: I want tfe ratchet to be based off tfa ratchet not tfp

I like tfas design and personality better ok

Considering what I've seen, and how Ratchet was (I think?) in the little g1 comic blurb in the first or second episode, that his design is gonna be primarily based on his g1 one, perhaps somewhat off of his IDW design (me saying I'm pretty sure he's getting the gray chevron), and his personality is probably gonna be closer to his IDW one in my opinion considering the heavy influences in the show and how he's quite an important character in IDW05

I feel like if he appears, it's gonna be a ~thing~ considering if he was easily accessible at the moment they would've brought him in the several times that someone has gotten hurt or to check them over as a checkup. He's probably not dead, and I feel like earthspark won't pass the opportunity up, so my main theory is that he's defected thanks to some of the pressures we see in the series with GHOST, Megatron working with the autobots, and the frankly awful treatment of a lot of the decepticons post war.

#maccadam #transformers #I'm absolutely thinking a lot so much about him being one of the few who still have theur autobot badge #like #i feel like we're gonna see more autobot rogues on the run #tfe ratchet #I'm yET AGAIN BRINGING UP THE NETFLIX TRILOGY BUT. but. in that he more or less said ''fuck that'' and set up a neutral clinic #and i can see earthspark ratchet doing something similar: prioritizing his oath over his faction #but it'd also be fascinating to see him full on join the decepticons post war badge in all because the context would be very different #earthspark ratchet #transformers earthspark #predictions

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melk917 · 6 months

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So, just random question. In the Full Ratchet universe does Rafael realize he’s in love with his s/o slowly or is there a specific moment that you have in mind?

Ohhhh. Good question. So, it sort of creeps up on him.

At first they both are telling themselves that it's just sex. Really, really good sex. But there's conversation and shared interests and etc....

At first, they're meeting for drinks and going home together from like, August - December-ish. And then she starts to realize she has feelings and avoids asking.

They leave the DA's office holiday party together (I have the notes for this story, but who knows if I'll ever actually write it at this point).

She gets drunk on Christmas and calls him, waking him up on his solo trip to Gstaad. She had meant to just leave a message but his ringer was on, and he proactively sort of makes New Years plans with her.

In January, there is this moment: Her POV, Rafa's. He also takes her out dancing around that time.

So.... he's probably got a pretty good idea that he's falling for her by late Dec/early Jan, but he doesn't want to dig too deep into that. He doesn't think he has time or space for that sort of thing in his life. But he also can't cut it off.

And then a few weeks laterish... maybe a month or so, they were on a date and got back to his place, getting hot and heavy on the couch, when he gets called in for an interrogation. And he starts to get ...anxious? That this is the beginning of the end because she’s clearly annoyed and disappointed that he’s leaving. She texts a few times, trying to see if he has an idea of when he’ll be finished but he misses them all since he’s in the interrogation. He expects her to head back to her place since he doesn’t know when he’ll get back, but instead when he gets home she’s asleep in his bed and just happy he’s back. He doesn’t say anything about his anxiety at this point, but is still worried that she’ll get tired of him (but also he doesn’t like that he’s concerned?).

This is another one I have some notes for, but don't know if I'll write. Some dialogue below:

“You’re still here.” “Mmm, I figured you’d have to come home eventually. Seemed like a good way to get to still spend some time with you” “You’re not wrong”

“You’re wearing my shirt” “I don’t have any pajamas here, and it’s cold. Come on, I’ll give it back if you get in bed and keep me warm instead”

She rolled over into him, tucking her face in his neck and breathing deep...and breathed deep again. “Mmm you realize you smell like pussy, right?” He choked, “excuse me?” She burst out laughing, “oh my god, when you ran your hand through your hair... you hadn’t washed your hands and then ran it through your hair...” “oh god, do you think anyone noticed?” “well, i for one hope that no one else was this close to you during the interrogation”

Haha, that's a bit of a ramble, but I hope it put some more color around it! I love answering these sorts of questions, haha. Otherwise it all just lives in my head (or my google docs).

#rafael barba #law and order svu #melk answers #The Full Ratchet #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu fic

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decepticannibal · 1 year

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my second piece for @vaporexzines Doctor, I Love You! The Zine is amazingly done and there’s so many ridiculously good artists and writers in it so definitely check it out!

Ratchwavewave? for the soul? I don’t know, but they have some real chemistry together :D

#cannibal.me #Transformers Prime #ratchet #soundwave #shockwave #ratchwave #i don't actually know what their full ship name would be haha #also my first time trying to draw like glass stuff]#wavewave #maccadam

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lord-squiggletits · 1 month

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The fact that the general Tumblr reaction to JRO saying "yeah Drift is around the same age as Megatron" was incredulousness/amazement really makes me wonder what it is about Drift that makes people think he's young for some reason.

I mean in a way I don't even like applying the label of "young" to any Cybertronian who was alive pre-war, because that group of people is literally 4-5 million years old and so the fact that some of them might have a few thousand/ten thousand years on each other doesn't really make a meaningful generation gap for a species that's basically immortal.

But why do people think that Drift is some young adult when he's literally the same age group as some characters called "old men" by fandom.

#pls don't tell me it's some racism thing with him being asian coded #probably it's just bc ratchet called him 'kid' back during their meeting in the dead end but like #that was 4 mil years ago so drift is by no means young as of the 'present time'??#could also blame the stupid kooky hippie personality JRO saddled him with and couldn't decide if it was fake or unironic #squiggposting #esp because like. age gaps matter less the older a group of people is #so even if drift was younger than ratchet #after a 4 mil year war they're both full adults. practically middle aged men #it'd be like calling a 40 year old man 'young' bc he's hooked up with a 50 year old man #anyways. people applying human norms of age/generational gaps to transformers my beloathed

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tatangadragon · 2 months

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[wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat,terrified] this guy was built like a vivziepop character