Helloooo what if somehow Predaking switched to the Autobots (deciding they're less guilty than the Cons) and he gets... very attached to Magnus, who proved himself a warrior and a worthy mate with how hard he flung the hammer at him..
Predaking staring at Magnus very openly, not caring if anyone else notices..
Any hcs ? (Sfw or nsfw, love both)
Eeee i actually love them holy shit I wrote a fic about em once they’re sooo good
Sfw:
Putting between them but Magnus is quieter and a bit shy
Magnus likes to read Predaking history or grammar stuff. Predaking can read just fine he just likes hearing Magnus get passionate about stuff
Magnus brings himself to the edge of burn out and Predaking forces him to take breaks
Predaking won’t hesitate to say I love you and call magnus his mate and also magnus blushing is cute as hell
Magnus gets caressed by Predakings wings
Nsfw:
Predaking breeds Magnus like he’s so rough
Because they’re on the same side, Predaking leaves all sorts of marks and brands on his mate
They’ve interfaced with Predaking in both forms
Ultra Magnus gets easily overstimulated because Predaking is so big and fast
Predaking licks up those tears
Predaking is actually quite gentle to magnus. As gentle as possible at least
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I've got another rarepair for you for your violetwine posting: Lirin/Rock
They're both dads, they both don't kill, it's a wonderful dynamic of one is very serious and the other is constantly cracking jokes??
never would’ve thought of this, but the more I think about it… YES
of course assuming they’re both in open relationships here. I could never break up lirin/hesina
I can see it: one of rock’s kid’s gets sick, lirin treats them, stays for dinner, is amazed by rock’s cooking, rock’s family starts inviting lirin and hesina over for dinner, lirin and rock start developing feelings, rock really needs someone to talk to after oathbringer, lirin listens, they fall in love, fuck yeah
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Happy lovers season Shana! I'm very excited for the upcoming prompts! 😀 Can I please request some more Enola Holmes or Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries? 💚 If not please feel free to do a dealer's choice. I love all that you write and it fills me with joy to see new updates from you 😊
set in the same universe as Here is Your Home Country
Dot doesn’t want a big wedding, doesn’t want a lot of fuss. Married at her church, and then Prudence has offered to have the reception in her garden. Probably more at Jane’s insistence than anything else, but considering Mr. Butler has already insisted on handling the catering and logistics and anything else she might need assistance with, she might as well.
It’s sweet of him, really. She knows that he’s worried about her sisters that disapprove and her mother that disapproves and her brothers that had been apocalyptic at the news, and how that means she’ll be planning this wedding without them. She’s not worried. They’d never cared about her life or her happiness until it was something that would embarrass them.
The less said about what her friends from church think, the better. But she hasn’t headed their gossip for years, not since she started working for Miss Fisher.
Jack’s a good man and doesn’t deserve their ire. She won’t tolerate it.
~
“You’re really doing it, huh?”
Dot looks up and feels first pleasure then wariness that settles on a gut rolling mixture of the two. “Hello, Nell.”
Her older sister is standing over her, blocking her light, but she just closes her notebook and uses her foot to nudge the chair opposite her. The waiter should be by again soon.
She looks different out of the heavy makeup and light clothes of the club. Wearing a sweater and long skirt, she looks like the sister Dot remembers. “Mum called me. Me.”
Dot winces. “You’re invited, of course, I just wasn’t sure where to send the invite.”
Nell leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow and reaching into her purse for a cigarette. Dot wishes she wouldn’t. She hates the smell. “I didn’t really get that impression from you two.”
“We were just colleagues then,” she says, which isn’t completely accurate, but neither is friends. Or perhaps it is. They knew one another then, and respected each other, and were kind to one another. But she’d had Hugh, and Jack’s eyes had been on Miss Fisher, and – they hadn’t known, then, where they would end up.
It’s nice.
She knew him and liked him and cared about him before she loved him. It makes her feel like she can trust him, that he won’t surprise her in a way she doesn’t like.
Nell hums, then says, “She wants to know if you’re having money troubles.”
Dot stares, wishing she knew her mother a little less well and didn’t understand exactly what she was saying. “She thinks I’m marrying Jack for his money because I have gambling debts?”
She shrugs. “You know what she sees at the church.”
She’s not going to get angry. Getting angry won’t do her any good. “I’m marrying him because I love him.”
“You loved Hugh,” she says. “He was cute. Your age. He even converted.”
Part of her wonders who was keeping Nell updated on the gossip of her life. The rest of her doesn’t care. “He didn’t love me right.”
“There’s a wrong way?” she asks, too lightly.
“Yes,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling. “And I can’t love anyone right who loves me wrong. Hugh and I would have been miserable, in the end. We were in love with people that didn’t exist.”
She’d wanted someone who would love her through all of her changes.
Hugh had wanted someone who would never change.
Even in her bitterest moments, she can’t truly blame him. She had been a static woman when they’d met. She was the one that changed and she was the one that had wanted someone who would love her anyway and she was the one that had ended their engagement when she’d realized that someone wasn’t him.
Nell leans forward to steal her half-drunk cup of coffee, leaning back as she gulps it down in three long swallows. “Okay. I’ll tell Mum to back off, yeah? Not that it’ll do any good. She never listens to me anyway.”
“Oh,” Dot says, startled, and then Nell is getting to her feet and waving as she melts back into the crowd of the street.
~
Bert and Cec are in their room, sleeping after working through the night. Jack is over, but he’s never not known, and these days they don’t even bother to shove their twin beds apart when he's here.
She’s seated on her knees at the coffee table, Jack sitting behind her on the couch, nose buried in a case file that she’s going to look over herself as soon as she figures out this seating chart.
Jack clears his throat and she leans back, pressing her back to his knees and looking up. The file has been discarded and he’s looking at her with a sort of warm softness that has her reaching out her hand and letting him haul her upright just enough so that she can fall into his lap, seated sideways so her legs are stretched out over the couch.
His arms come around her waist and his lips quirk up in an almost smile. She smooths out the line between his eyebrows with her thumb, almost asks, but know it’s a waste when he’s nearly there already.
Sure enough, he looks at the space over her head and asks, “Do you want us to get a new house?”
She blinks. She hadn’t considered it, really, had assumed that she’d move into the house Jack has now. She’s been there. It’s a very nice house. A little empty feeling, perhaps, but she figured they’d solve that quickly enough. Instead of saying any of that, she asks, “Do you want me to want us to get a new house?”
He looks at her then, exasperated, and she smiles, shifting her hand lower to trace his bottom lip. He licks his lips, his tongue barely brushing her fingertip, and her breath hitches, but he says, “Rosie picked it.”
It makes sense that his first wife helped pick the house, and Dot has never tiptoed her way around Rosie, but that’s not quite what he’s saying.
Rosie picked it.
“Do you like it?” she asks.
Jack shrugs, looking away from her again. “She made a good choice.”
“Yes,” Dot agrees. It really is a very nice house, in a good area. “But do you like it?”
He shifts beneath her, meeting her gaze when he admits, “I let her pick what she wanted. I thought things would be okay, if I could give her what she wanted.”
And now it reminds him of how much that didn’t work, how she left that house and him both. He’d offered her the house in the divorce, but she hadn’t wanted it, for her own reasons.
“Why don’t we pick something we both want?” she asks, because no matter how nice the house is, she doesn’t want what he doesn’t’. “I bet Mac has some good leads on houses that are going to be on the market. She knows so many useful things like that.”
“Yeah?” he asks, relief making his whole body relax even as his arms tighten, tugging her that much closer against him.
“Yeah,” she echoes, then dips down her head for a kiss he’s eager to give her.
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Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization
The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.
If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:
Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.
Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like:
"She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay????
"Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.
It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.
Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue.
But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.
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