Gift Giving - Tumblr Posts

♥  Gift Guide Help  ♥

Hi all :-) 

As you know one of my fave things is to browse the net for cool trinkets and goodies, so if you’re a bit stuck on finding a gift for your pal/co-worker/dog/enemy this holiday season - send me an ask and I’ll see what I can find! 

All you need to give me as a guide is a budget, and a lil summary of their personality (fave movies, season, trinkets, colour, hobby, something they hate perhaps) and I’ll see what I can do! 

We’re Dripping In It

Chapter 19: Heartbeat

When Jungkook returned to Namjoon’s penthouse, he was still chuckling at the thought of how Professor Chan would have reacted to being replaced not even a week after he had died. There hadn’t even been a proper mourning period at the campus, apparently he wasn’t just disliked by the students. The Dean of the school had said one small word about his passing during the morning announcements, but that was all the acknowledgement the man got for his twenty years at Hybe University.

The couple rings that Yoongi had handed him before he left had burned a hole in his pocket as he thought about them all day. Having them in his hand made the fact that he had to give them to Namjoon all the more real. His stomach bubbled with nerves as he set his backpack down on a kitchen chair before walking over to Namjoon’s office.

He fidgeted as he stood in front of the dark oak door before placing a hesitant knock against it.

“Come in,” Namjoon called and looked up as Jungkook stepped into the room, he scrunched his brow as Jungkook shuffled into the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Should I be worried? You knocked this time.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Just a bit nervous, you don’t have to accept them. I probably should’ve asked if you even wanted something like this. Please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you into anything that you might feel is too soon and…”

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon cut into Jungkook’s ramblings. “Little one, breathe.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, looked at Namjoon’s steady face and pulled the ring box out from his pocket. Placing it on Namjoon’s desk he whispered, “Yoongi-hyung had his jeweler make them and Tae helped me pick the design.”

Namjoon picked up the ring box and opened it, he sucked in a breath as he stared down at the two silver rings in the black velvet. They were a simple matching set, thin and delicate, with a single red line of metal wrapped around the silver.

Jungkook chewed on his lip ring as Namjoon blinked down at the rings, “They’re couple rings. The red line was inspired by the Red String of Fate, I thought it might be fitting considering how we met. Do you like them?”

Namjoon blinked again and looked up at Jungkook, he opened and closed his mouth for a moment.

“Do you… hate them?” Jungkook squeaked, twisting his fingers together in his lap.

“Fuck no!” Namjoon burst out with a violent shake of his head. “No baby, I love them. It’s just… no one has ever… gotten me something like this before.”

Jungkook smiled widely and reached onto the desk, he picked up the ring box and took out the larger of the two rings form inside. He took Namjoon’s left hand into his and slid the ring onto his pointer finger. He smiled wider as he looked at how well it suited Namjoon’s long fingers.

Namjoon reached over and plucked the smaller ring out of the box. He took Jungkook’s left hand into his and slid the ring onto his pointer finger as well. They intertwined their ringed fingers, connecting the red string between them.

“It’s perfect, Jungkook-ah.” Namjoon whispered, then chuckled. “I’m sorry to say what I have to give to you in return isn’t something new.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything Namjoon,” Jungkook said as Namjoon pulled a box off the floor and placed it on the desk.

“More like returning something you lost,” Namjoon corrected, sliding the box closer to him.

Jungkook looked at the box curiously before pulling the lid off, he gasped as he saw what lay inside of it. “How did you find it!? I thought Bangchan had it destroyed!”

Jungkook pulled out the leather jacket, Namjoon’s leather jacket. The thing that started everything and held it tightly to his chest. Namjoon smiled as Jungkook buried his face into the leather collar.

“My men found it while we were cleaning out the Stray Kids Gang’s warehouse. I had it cleaned and if you look at the collar, you’ll see the other surprise I have on it.” Namjoon explained, taking the empty box off of his desk.

Jungkook pulled his face away from the leather jacket and looked down at the stitching that laid at the back collar. Where there used to just be a little ‘RM’ stitched in white lettering, there now sat ‘RM & JK’ and underneath that read ‘To Keep Us Warm Till The Spring Comes Again’.

“Oh Namjoon,” Jungkook whispered, looking up at the man with teary eyes. “I love it, thank you.”

“Of course baby,” Namjoon grinned, glancing down at the ring on his finger. “I still think I got the better gift out of the pair of us.”

“Buy me a puppy and we’ll call it even.” Jungkook teased, hugging the leather jacket to his chest happily.

“What breed do you want?” Namjoon asked, chuckling when Jungkook starts to protest his seriousness on wanting a dog at the moment. Namjoon leans his head into his hand and stares at Jungkook lovingly, listening as he starts to ramble on about all the research he’s done on proper dog training.

Saturday Morning

“Baby, I can’t just call the leader of NCT Dream Circinate and tell them I can’t make my meeting because my boyfriend wants to go out on a date.” Namjoon says gently as Jungkook pouts at him.

“What good is being the most powerful man in South Korea if you can’t have one day off?” Jungkook counters, ignoring Jimin’s snicker at the end of the table as he stares at Namjoon.

Namjoon pursues his lips and glances at Yoongi for support, he only gets a shrug in response from the man.

“Even I have a day off Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi drawls and gives Namjoon a sly smile. “I’ve been telling you for years to have a day for yourself, maybe Jungkook-ah will actually force you to do that. Quality time is important for a growing relationship, you know.”

Jungkook smiles smugly at Namjoon’s defeated sigh.

“I’ll make you a deal, little one.” Namjoon says, reaching for Jungkook’s hand and running his thumb over their ring on his finger. “I can’t blow off this meeting, but I can move my Sunday one to today. I can give you all of tomorrow, how does that sound?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “You promise, I’ll get you all to myself tomorrow?”

Namjoon gulps and licks his lips as he nods, letting out a shaky breath when Jungkook hums happily and returns to eating his food. His eyes narrow down the table as snickers from the rest of the men sound through the room.

“Don’t you all have somewhere to be?” Namjoon scolds, only to receive chuckles in response as they all turn back to their own plates of food and conversions with the person sitting next to them.

Namjoon huffs and rolls his eyes as he stands from the table, “One of these days I’m just going to fire all of you, the level of disrespect I’m getting in this house is unreal.”

“We already have a new boss to take your place!” Jimin teases, patting Jungkook’s shoulder as Namjoon glares at him. “I think Jungkook-ah would do a much better job than you anyway.”

“Probably,” Namjoon mutters, placing a kiss onto Jungkook’s forehead before heading towards his office. “You better treat your new boss well then, he’s dead broke though so you can forget your paycheck this month.”

“Wait! Leader-hyung, I was joking!” Jimin yelled, scrabbling out his chair to follow after Namjoon’s retreating back. The rest of the table laughed as they watched Jimin pitter behind their leader’s long stride, muttering apologies and clutching his hands together with his pleads for his paycheck.

“Way to stick it to the man, Jimin-ah,” Jungkook teases, when the door to Namjoon’s office is promptly closed in Jimin’s face. “It’s so good to see where your true loyalty lies.”

Jimin huffs as he returns to his seat and pulls his plate of food to himself, “I was going to buy some new oil for my guns, the good stuff. I hope hyung was just joking about my paycheck.”

Jungkook snorts at Jimin’s pout and pats his shoulder consolingly, “I’ll put in a good word with my boyfriend for you, Jimin-ssi.”

Yoongi chuckles at the pair as he sets down his mug of coffee, “What is your plan for today then, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook blinks as he thinks about it, “I think I need to start getting my apartment together, I can’t live in barebones forever.”

He also needed better sheets for him and Namjoon to sleep on when he comes over, but Jungkook was not about to tell his hyung that.

Yoongi hums in agreement, “Would you be alright with Jin going with you? It’ll be good for him to get out of the house every now and then.”

Jungkook ignored Jin’s muttering of ‘I’m not a dog’ as he looked at his hyung, “Do I need to be worried about him trying to escape?”

“I’m not going to escape!” Jin protests, still being ignored as Yoongi shakes his head at Jungkook.

“We’ll have a guard go with you and he still has the ankle monitor on, lucky for us Tae finally finished his design on it. He won’t be able to get that off as easily as previous ones.” Yoongi says, taking a long sip of the fresh coffee his husband places in front of him. “If you don’t feel comfortable going with a guard you don’t know, I can have Jimin’s schedule moved around so he can go with the pair of you today.”

Jungkook looks over at Jimin, who smiles widely at him and clutches his hands together as he says, “I would do anything to get out of this meeting, Jungkook-ah. Please say yes.”

Jungkook stares at him for a beat before nodding, Jimin cheers and hugs Jungkook before dashing off to his room to change out of his pajamas. Jungkook looks back at Yoongi, “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d rather have Jimin-hyung with me. I know I’ll have to meet some of your other men eventually and I’m sure you trust them but…”

Yoongi raises a hand to stop, “You never have to apologize to me, Jungkook, on what makes you feel safe. There will come a day where you won’t need any of us to do that for you, but for now we do it happily.”

“Thank you hyung,” Jungkook whispers, smiling as the man passes him and ruffles his hair affectionately. Taehyung follows closely after and places a kiss on Jungkook’s forehead before following behind his husband into Namjoon’s office.

Jungkook tries to ignore the eyes of his brother following him as he makes his way into the kitchen with piles of dishes. As he works at the sink Jin comes to his side and leans against the counter while he works.

“I have to admit something to you, Jungkook.” Jin says quietly, Jungkook hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t stop washing the plates in the sink and placing them on the drying rack. “It wasn't mom and dad’s money that I was sending you for school, it’s never been their money.”

Jungkook turns off the tap and looks over at his brother in confusion, “What do you mean, hyung? Whose money was it?”

Jin hangs his head as he looks down at the floor, “Mine. It was my money from all the jobs I could get, mom was sucking us dry on her cocaine addiction. That’s why I was never home. I had to work night and day just to send a bit of money to keep you in school and keep mom out of the drug pits.”

“Why didn’t you tell me hyung?” Jungkook whispers, clenching his fists in hand towel. “I had no idea about any of that. I thought you just left me. I thought I was alone.”

Jin nods, “I know, I was trying to protect you. I was trying to protect my little brother from a world I didn’t want him to be a part of. That was stupid of me and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

Jungkook sniffs and leans his head against Jin’s shoulder, clutching to the bottom of Jin’s shirt with his finger tips. “You can’t take me away from here, Jin-hyung. I can’t leave my hyungs.”

“I know, I know,” Jin whispers, turning to pull Jungkook to his chest. Holding tight around his little brother’s shoulders as he shakes in his arms. “I know that now, Jungkook, I won’t. I promise I won’t, we’ll make it work with them. I’ll make it work.”

Jungkook hiccups as he clutches Jin’s chest in his arms, “You can’t leave me again, hyung. I need you too.”

Jin’s arms become like a vice around him and Jin lowers his head to rest on the crown of Jungkook’s. “I’m not going anywhere, they’ll have to kill me to take me away.”

The Jeon brothers clutched each other for a long beat before Jungkook slowly pulls away and wipes the tears off of his face.

“What made you tell me the truth today, Jin-hyung?” Jungkook asked, watching his brother wipe his own face clean of his tears.

Jin shrugs, “I talked to Hoba, he helped me put some things into perspective. I’m sorry for the expectations I put on you when it came to our parents, Jungkook-ah. I tend to forget that you didn’t grow up with them like I did, you had an absentee father and a drug addict mother. Mom may have seemed in her right mind, but she wasn’t. I had no idea that she had kicked you out of the house, I would’ve come back if I did.”

“I had no idea mom even was a drug addict, how was she able to hide it from me for so long?” Jungkook asked, thinking back over his childhood memories for any sign he may have missed.

Jin sighs, giving Jungkook a long look, “I know I wasn’t home very often, especially after you settled at school in Seoul but I was able to keep mom’s addiction controlled. I had to go back to company business to get better money and drugs for her, she would have just gone to any drug pit if I wasn’t her supplier. I tried to get her sober for years, but she was too broken-hearted over killing dad, so I never succeeded. We had a deal for her using, you would never know. I never wanted you to know about her addiction.”

Jungkook tilts his head, “So if she wasn’t really all there, how did she send me school in Seoul? And have you drive me and check over me everyday?”

Jin rubs the back of his neck, “I lied about mom sending you, I did that. I didn’t want you in Busan anymore, after what happened with that school gang. I drove you myself so I could check the area until I knew it was safe for you to go on your own. And I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting in any more fights.”

“Did she really die from a brain tumor, hyung? Or was that a lie too?” Jungkook asks softly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It was a brain tumor, stage four brain cancer. I would never lie about that,” Jin answers.

Jungkook nodded, “I believe you hyung, do you understand why I didn’t come to the hospital while she was sick?”

Jin nods, patting Jungkook’s shoulder, “I understand, Kook-ah, and I’m sorry for the harsh words I said to you for it. I’m sorry about the conclusions I jumped to when you left to live in Seoul. How can we move forward from all this?”

“Leave the lies in the past,” Jungkook says firmly, spying Jimin hovering around the corner over Jin’s shoulder. “Let’s leave the harsh words and hard times in the past, I’ve forgiven you, we can leave it behind us. And we can move forward by helping me get my new apartment together!”

Jin chuckled as Jungkook skipped past him and joined Jimin’s side towards the elevator. He shook his head fondly as Jungkook waved for him to follow them and stepped forward in their direction with a wide smile on his face.

Its Megatron Baby Hours for this sleepy binch.

This was written solely to make Megatron the hopelessly embarrassed one for once. Even though Optimus is still baby, he’s not nearly as baby baby as Megatron is baby. You know?

Prepare for cringe fluff that got way out of hand.

ALSO I’m pretty sure all my carefully placed italicized words are gone, and I can’t even look right now or else it’ll kill me.

Warnings in tags✨

——————————-

He knew he had a choice to make, and soon. Either leave this with someone trustworthy enough to deliver it to the little Prime and wash his hands of it entirely, or...

Give it to him himself- as he had intended to before realization came crashing into him with a thousand tonnes, that I’m doing so, Optimus might interpret it for exactly what it was: A gift.

Megatron stared accusingly at only visible sliver of the blasted thing tucked away in his massive servo, balled into a steady fist.

Nearly crushing it several times now.

It was with that embarrassing lack of self control in which the decision was made for him. Also partly in thanks to his sizably unholy ego.

Megatron was many things, but certainly no coward. If he had chosen this gift with the intention of seeing the Prime take it from his own servos then he better not second guess himself. That’d be half admitting that Starscream was right about her assessment of his leadership.

Megatron needed to hear more of that in the middle of a staff meeting after his gift’s impromptu discovery exactly never again. The smug look on Strika’s face… Urgh.

If Optimus didn’t go around shuttering his optics up at him every time he spoke in low, measured rumbles about the glorious feats of millennias past, or turn a pretty color when Megatron had to reach over him to grab something, he’d be a lot more worried about Optimus rejecting such a blatant attempt. But clearly -thank Primus- the smaller mech was enchanted in such a way when it came to him, and that was all the convincing Megatron needed in order to pursue it.

More than enough.

But his worry was in whether Optimus might find the gift itself acceptable, rather than whether he though Megatron’s advancing on him in such a flirtatious manner appropriate.

Megatron couldn’t help glancing at the thing again, his uncertainty mounting.

Optimus seemed to like to challenge himself, and this gift was a challenge of sorts. But was it too juvenile for being purposely made a rather easy accomplishment?

Optimus was easy to agitate, though -not in part to Megatron’s constant teasing- and perhaps presenting him a ‘challenge’ of this kind would be as demeaning as Ultra Magnus thinking it a ‘challenge’ for the young Prime to follow directions.

It wasn’t that Optimus couldn’t, obviously- it was simply that he possessed a brain module and some extraordinary self-sense.

Megatron’s spark began to beat faster. He did so prize the other’s ability to recognize absolute slag when he saw it. Including his own. Even more than that, he was enamored with Optimus’ strength of spark to act on it, unafraid to condemn himself for the greater good.

Like fleeing with the Allspark all that time ago.

It didn’t matter what sort of enemies that had earned him on the way- his high commander included.

Megatron couldn’t help but smile, terrifying the hapless minicons he passed on the decking, just trying to move out of the way of him marching on dazedly.

For a mech so tame and accepting, Optimus was wild at spark in the most surprising ways. If he’d never forsaken his commander’s direct orders, Megatron would have never met the thoughtful mech, or have been forced to endure the chaos only a youthful, headstrong prime could have caused him for the entirety of their stay on that dirtball planet.

The irony in his wistful urge to return to that time, to a place horrid and foreign, trapped together in the most unaccommodating circumstances.

Megatron heard another creak and quickly loosened his grip on the hapless gift being squeezed in his massive palm.

Remembering Earth had become something bittersweet. Megatron knew their chance encounter had been anything but ideal. The time they spent in each other’s unfortunate company consisted of even greater atrocities than trying to tear each other apart on a crashing ship had.

He shuddered to think he’d once used the object of his most ardent affections as a shield.

His thunderous scowl at the memory caused another stir of desperate mechs trying to dodge his path as he continued down the flight deck.

Thankfully -to spare anymore civilians in all this wayward self-reflection- there was Optimus. Completely immersed in his work, overseeing a new hanger designed to accommodate frames many times his size. Gigantic bots like Blackout, clipping his wings on his entry and exit thought the shuttle docks had been the Prime’s inspiration to push for its construction. And he’d stayed, after arguing and eventually winning his proposition, thanks to deeply invested ex-Decepticon flight frames at his back raving with him, to supervise his little project.

Megatron felt his chest swell with an overbearing heat at the thought of such conviction for the welfare of his own mechs, coupled with the sight of the little bot hard at work. This compassionate little thing...

Megatron’s spark swelled.

Just then, Optimus’ finial twitched, and his attention was drawn like a magnet over to where Megatron was stood making good use of the new sizable room with his shoulder proudly squared. Seeing for himself his efforts so rewarded finally brought a little smile to the mech’s face.

“Megatron?” His voice rang out over the constant drilling and clatter around him. That voice so familiar and welcoming, Megatron didn’t even have to strain to hear it. Having committed his soft little coos while whispering to one another under the stars of the observation deck to memory, his processor instantly filled in the gaps.

Megatron’s recent absence from the smaller mech while he’d spent cyber-weeks off planet side had admittedly made it easier to. There hadn’t been a klik while he was gone that he hadn’t replayed a vivid memory file of his dearly missed, little Prime.

Optimus -refusing to abandon his tireless work- beckoned him over with a wave of his hand. His finials held high on his helm.

Smitten, Megatron helplessly obeyed.

“I thought you were on leave at the moment?” Optimus asked when the war machine was close enough to hear. Just a few short feet away.

The stupid smile that spread Megatron’s own lips fell, realizing he’d been caught somewhat.

“I... needed to make a stop…”

There was a tense moment of silence, as the implications sank in, but thankfully it did. Megatron hadn’t wanted to explain it himself, embarrassed enough he’d turned an entire warship around.

“For...me?” Optimus murmured, hazarding a guess. Megatron shifted uncomfortably.

Then the Prime’s optics did that demure little thing they often did where they lowered self-consciously to stare at the floor, causing the larger mech to feel eerily similar to being stuck in a tailspin while in his altmode.

Megatron sparing more time out of his busy cycle to have ‘runins’ with him weren’t much of a surprise anymore, surely. But Optimus was a humble bot -an enormous turn on for a mecha having dug himself up from out of the pit with his own two servos and carried an entire revolution on his back with him.

Which Optimus would know a thing or two about that himself.

When a curious looking Prowl sauntered by the pair just out of his peripheral, looking over with those keen optics of his, Megatron chose that moment to move things along and hopefully excuse himself sooner from his own impending embarrassment.

He reset his vocalizer, then pulled the thing he’d been sent here -by his previously fearless ego- to deliver out from behind him.

At the sight, Optimus’ engine startled.

“What’s this for?” He asked, blinking down at one massive paw. Seeing it instantly gave him some vague idea of what it was, having tried his servo at deciphering a similar mechanism before in his travels to fight off deep space boredom. He hadn’t really applied himself then, deciding reading was more worthwhile, but suddenly, looking over this object now resting in Megatron’s extended servo, it seemed imperative he accept the shiny thing with the utmost enthusiasm.

Optics going wide and glittery, a smile slowly spreading his astonishingly pretty mouth, hanging open in surprise.

Like it was anything so spectacular than it was just a measly three dimensional puzzle.

Never mind what it was made of- Megatron thought it would be unfitting to tell him the value of its material until after he’d crafted the beautiful thing, which would likely only take an hour.

For now, handing it over with a bit more force than Megatron had meant to in his eagerness to escape would do.

“No particular reason.” He finally answered when the gift was secured in Optimus’ tight, clutching servos.

He tried his hardest not to let his confidence over inflate so, when Optimus grinned up at him with the puzzle of crystal clusters looking much bigger and heavier in his hands, held close and careful to his chest.

Gift received and appreciated.

Megatron’s work here was done.

“Enjoy that little Prime.” He shrugged, trying pathetically hard to ignore the thump of his spark at the endearing sight of a happily surprised Optimus.

“It’s the only thing of me I have to keep you company with while I return to my work.”

A very sad excuse of a thing, too. The Prime deserved riches and recognition, as any consort of a lord high protector of the lands should… Future consort.

Optimus felt otherwise.

“Thank you, Megatron. Thank you... I... I only wish there was time for me to give you a piece of me in return.”

Megatron blinked.

That was as blatant a reciprocation -and an explicit one- as Megatron had ever gotten from him before.

He struggled not to entertain any implications -not wishing to speculate on behalf of the delicate little civil frame in his company- for all of 2 nano kliks before he looked again and saw the hooded optics and lazy smirk on the other’s faceplate, condemning his innocent efforts entirely.

Megatron’s engines roared to life over the drum of construction work.

“Yes, right- We’ll- We will have to make sure we… plan accordingly for- for… that in the future. Won’t we?” Was he talking fast? He felt like he was talking fast.

Why was his temper gauge popping up?

“Be safe on your flight.” Optimus replied coyly, clearly feeling similarly swept up in all the thick, unexplored emotions of this incredibly raw encounter.

“Flying is second nature.” Megatron said dumbly, belatedly realizing he was missing the point.

“You be careful working yourself into stasis.” He deflected.

“Thankless, arduous work is my second nature. Well- mostly thankless.” Optimus held up the jagged mess of crystals in his hand. Probably already setting a challenge for himself for how quickly he could decipher it.

Megatron excused himself with a bow of his helm before he could ruin their perfect moment by asking for a kiss farewell.

———————————

“The last time jou ordered a sensible retreat vas when, Lord Megatron? Jou our too certain of jour own abilities.”

“I’m certain of the power of my mechs, Strika. I know that they can push through, that is all.”

“If they succeed with even half the injuries they sustained in the first strike, there is the matter of the Sepertines’ waiting with a third wave of missiles on the other side.”

“That is of no consequence, Shockwave.”

“They’re quite familiar with our biology, now. These missiles are loaded with infectious rust.”

“That is of consequence...” Megatron backtracked, finally losing some traction in the midst of his genius strategizing between all his officers’ complaining. Then he smirked.

“But they’re not strong enough to weather an onslaught from Blackout.”

“Zhey are vaiting for a clear path through.” Strika added, the mech in question under her direct command.

Megatron paused a moment to consider the brooding seeker in the corner of the war room, still pouting from their earlier… disagreement.

“You’ve been too quiet.” Megatron scowled.

“Nothing to say about Blackout leading the air strike?”

Starscream sneered.

“Other than he lacks half the intelligence of the average idiot Decepticon? Nothing.”

“You don’t want the position?” Megatron pushed. He thought he caught an optic roll from Strika out of the corner of his eye.

Starscream shrugged.

“I don’t envy him for being sent head first into that mess.”

“We sent scouts.” Megatron assured.

“Before the Sepertines exposed their artillery was capable of chemical warfare. Who knows what’s waiting for us? And besides, Blackout is too slow for this ‘position’- if you can even call it that.”

“There hasn’t been an opportunity to break through their shielding and send a tunneler.” Shockwave felt the need to say in defense of his master.

Strika had rather watch him struggle, though, as she had said many times before that he deserved it for keeping Starscream in their ranks.

“It doesn’t matter.” Megatron insisted, confident in his abilities, as much as he was any other mech in his military that wasn’t blasted Starscream.

“He may be slower, but far sturdier than your flimsy, tinfoil wings-“

“What the frag is tinfoil?!” Starscream screeched.

“Blackout will go, and he will prepare the field prior to our own heavy artillery coming through. And be commended for it.”

Starscream looked disgusted that Megatron would insinuate it was a feat worth praising, Blackout playing frontline pawn. He was damn hard to kill, made exclusively to cleanse the battle field in every unnerving sense of the word. But the point was that he would be serving as nothing more than fresh fodder.

Starscream would never.

“If it worries you so,” Megatron began slowly, aware Starscream only ever worried about where she could find her next opportunity to stab him.

“Lugnut can go assist him.”

Shockwave began to furiously type something into his wrist monitor then. Calculating, doubting.

“And Lugnut can offer any functional support?”

“Jealous? At a time like this?” Megatron glowered over the little holograph of Shockwave’s increasingly convoluted catalogue of percentages. Curious about existence of the ‘Visits to Cybertron’ one.

“You’re aware of his ability to eviscerate life for miles, aren’t you?”

“You’re aware he’ll be too slow to doge the missiles, aren’t you?” Starscream whisper-hissed. Megatron ignored her.

“He’ll make short work of them in the time it’ll take them to recover from Blackout’s first strike.”

“I stay well informed of our troops, my Liege.” Shockwave amended. Strika rolled her optics again.

“Only, you see, the Sepertines will have a counterstrike ready from the oceanfront. With an abundance of water, and their bodies adapted over eons to their wet environment, they have the advantage. Who do you have in mind for a naval assault?” If anyone.

They didn’t exactly thrive under thousands of tonnes of water hindering their every movement. Nor did their weapons.

Before he could blunder his way through that, Megatron’s commlink crackled to life. He checked the caller, expecting to find that it was Straxus on his last leg and suffering deliciously, then suddenly went rigid.

“I... have to take this.” He told the room.

Starscream didn’t even bother to make a stir of things. Throwing her arms up and leaving them all with a huff.

Among the curious optics, Megatron caught Strika giving him a look, and for once in his lifecycle, it had him feeling rather sheepish. Struggling to make his suddenly dry intake form the necessary words.

“Excuse me a moment.” He finally managed, as her optical ridge hiked ever higher, and turned away.

He cleared his throat tubing and put on his best air of confidence.

“Optimus-“

“Megatron, I love it! It’s so beautiful, I love it! No one has ever given me a flower before! It’s, its- I can’t even say!”

Megatron felt a pressure rise in his tanks, filling up his abdomen.

“Oh... yes...”

Optimus had called to gush at him.

He meekly tried to return his enthusiasm.

“I... Right then…”

“My first flower! Never thought I’d be excited about one of those.” Being infinitely less romantic than Megatron.

“And this one I can keep forever! It’s perfect- I- I just... Thank you!”

“Right... it’s... it’s yours forever.” Megatron said absently, bringing a palm up to cover his optics and squeeze. Feeling oddly exposed all at once.

“You...like it then?”

“Yes, he likes it, jou idiot!” Strika hissed from somewhere over his shoulder, having immediately become invested.

“Vhy else vould he be calling to tell jou so!”

Megatron was still uncharacteristically surprised to hear that Optimus might want the thing for that long. For forever.

The shock of it had him working his glossa before he had even fully processed it,

“I was hoping to gift you something that might represent my... connection... with you.”

Of all the things to say, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen that, because a simple puzzle sculpture -made of Earth’s precious rhodium, the insipid planet the civil bot so loved- was only as good as its value on said planet for its parts in pieces. The rest of its worth was purely sentiment.

He owed Sumdac exactly one favor for acquiring the stuff... but if Optimus thought a pretty, shiny flower was a flattering enough sentiment to gush at him for, and in a tone Megatron had never heard him use before -even in his sweetest dreams- then damn the mortification of having to ask him for it. It was beyond worth it, and he’d already reaped the reward for his efforts.

Optimus sounded happy, and Megatron couldn’t help feeling the effects of that- trying to ignore his erratic sparkbeat.

“I wish you weren’t shipped off on some excursion of the masses.” Optimus said then, tone suddenly playful.

Megatron felt another stupid, loopy smile grace his lip plates at that.

“Oh?” He murmured, helm dipped and hip cocked.

“Yeah...” Optimus… Optimus purred.

Megatron swallowed.

“I’d like to… thank you… But you’re all the way over there.”

“O-Oh?”

“Idiot!” Strika snarled.

“Tell him jou vill have him just as soon and swiftly as jour victory! Civil bots love grand gestures!”

“Tell him you will accept his appreciation with more of your own.” Shockwave whispered at her side. Unfortunately invested in his lord’s blossoming love life, too, now that’d he’d bared witnessed to his master appearing so happily flustered.

The first time he’d ever seen such a look on him before.

Megatron wished he had more control of his spark to focus on dealing with that, than he did with Optimus’ lovely full lips speaking such sweet promises directly into his processor.

“I’ll- I’ll have to stop by again soon.” Megatron answered, ignoring them both.

Strika took a moment to process this.

“Jou had us halt our attack to stop by and hinder him vith jour pitiful attempts?” She growled low and dangerous.

“And jou didn’t even get behind his panel-“

“It was necessary!” Megatron hissed back.

Shockwave pulled up that holograph on his wrist monitor again.

“The law of probability. We make a frivolous trip back to Cybertron every 3 deca-cycles to meet Lord Megatron’s quota. Scientifically speaking, it’s bound to happen the next time.”

Strika chose to ignore most of that.

“….Which quota is zhat now?”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Megatron sneered at the pair, finally having the sense to leave the room with his scarlet faceplates.

“You sound busy,” Optimus murmured, and there was a strange clattering sound on the other end as Optimus shifted himself straighter, embarrassed to have complicated things. Ever the sweetspark.

“I’ll let you go-“

“No, no! You have my full attention now.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Optimus said shyly. Likely turning a pretty color on the other side of the line. Megatron should be more disappointed with himself for mirroring it.

“Please do.” He purred, fighting his desire to hide his face into something soft.

“Talking to you is a much better use of my time, after all.... I’m glad you called.”

Megatron worried his lower lip, considering the cons of expanding on that thought and revealing himself as a mech so uncertain and unconvinced of his own courting abilities to the very bot he’d been steadily pledging his devotion to. The bot he was supposed to remain a steadfast, unshakable beacon of strength for- not one that was so terribly flustered over a little easy flirting.

But this was Optimus. This was the compassionate, genuine mech he’d come to find was always more pleasantly surprised by Megatron’s company when it was the honest sort.

He could afford to be vulnerable for a moment, just for him- though he had to take a page out of Optimus’ own book and remind himself that he was no coward for doing so. Despite what Decepticon rhetoric would say.

Optimus had been right as always when he’d said that being vulnerable took a kind of strength that was depthless and determined.

“I’m glad you like your gift.” Megatron continued after a moment. Ready to be vulnerable.

“I… wasn’t sure how it would be received.”

“Are you kidding?! I haven’t been given much of anything before. Energon goodies and extra fuel, maybe... This was so, uh... s-sweet.”

Megatron felt his chest swell again, this time with pride in his ability to provide for his potential mate. And pride, too, for his courageous mate’s willingness to be vulnerable with him.

Though, maybe it wasn’t so much a matter of him being a ‘potential’ mate anymore.

“I’ve been thinking,” Optimus began, as if magically reading his processor. Rather attuned to the larger mech these days.

“I-I’m not sure how you’d feel about this... You’re a very busy, um... leader... and I’m just a maintenance bot-“

“You are more precious than Primus has seen fit to tell you.” Megatron said seriously, smile slipping. As if Optimus would be able to see it and Megatron’s deep offense at his mate being disrespected from over the line.... ‘Potentinal’ mate...

Optimus snorted. Quite familiar with Megatron’s protectiveness of him in regards to his -apparently suffering- self esteem, and continued on. Thinking all of it a wasted effort.

“Well, to be clear, you said you wanted to give me something that reminds me of our connection.”

Optimus agreeing to use the word ‘connection’ added another layer to their conversation. Making it feel much less like passive flirting and that is was now more imperative than ever that Megatron answer each every question he had with the utmost seriousness.

Instead of succeeding to so do, Megatron sucked a breath in, forgetting to release it, and stood there frozen out in the corridor. Looking every bit as foolish as Starscream often insisted.

“Yes...” He simply mumbled. Fighting valiantly to force his composure to return.

“I wanted s-something, *ahem*, something that you could have forever.”

“Right.” Optimus was definitely smiling on the other end, and Megatron could hear it.

His tank flipped.

“So, ah, would you like to make this... more official? Like… a ‘forever thing’?

“Yes-“ Megatron had to steady himself on shaky pedes after tripping over thin air when he hadn’t even been moving, and reset his vocalizer for a third time that evening. Oh, how he wished he had been the one courageous enough to sweep the other mech off his stabilizers and pose that question.

Shyness was very unbecoming of him.

He was about to correct himself and try again for a more assertive, active role in this precious moment when Optimus spoke again, sounding much more like his old, calmer self now.

“Good- I’m getting started on the Ritus, then.”

Megatron promptly shut his mouth. Having a single nanoklik to wonder when exactly he’d gone through the Intimacy and Disclosure sects preluding the Ritus with him.

He supposed he’d shown his Devotion quite prominently in his mission to eliminate every conceivable threat in the universe to Optimus and their newly rejoined Cybertron (though mostly for Optimus).

But they were still missing some crucial components for its completion.

And then his stalling brain module -lingering on a power saving mode, after all the Energon in his lines had run too hot earlier when he’d allowed himself to get so worked up- switched on again, and his engines roared to life as realization punched its way through the exhausted thing.

Official? Ritus? As in... Conjunxing?

Was he just proposed to-

“You’ll need me to officiate my side of the courtship.” Optimus said then, throwing Megatron’s processor for an inescapable loop.

“Come home to Cybertron. You’ll need my mark- I want to do this right.”

‘Do this right’?

Megatron nearly collapsed from under his boiling core temperature, heating him up into a dizzied mess.

Optimus did nothing in halves, he had come to find.

Oh, Spark…

He knew he surely looked a fool, clutching at his abdomen with a clawed hand. Leaning all his weight against a wall to keep himself upright, trying to make sense of things moving at light speed, and faster still.

“I… I will.” He said simply. It didn’t take an ounce of thought to, his instincts driving him towards what ever direction was necessary for him to acquire his mate’s mark. That was all that mattered.

“Just as soon as I can.” Now would be a good time actually. He’d look and feel better going to war with Optimus’ sharp denta having punctured his throat plate.

“Be safe, please.” That sweet, soft voice had made its return, turning the inside of Megatron’s belly to a pool of liquid heat.

“I will.” He said even less convincingly then. His helm felt stuffy, and his frame felt weak. He wished his mate was there to hold him together.

Though Optimus was far more adept at reducing him to nothing more than a gooey puddle.

“I know you will, honey. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Megatron swallowed thickly. He could do without the ridiculous organic nicknames. Honest, he could.

———

Spelling and grammar errors for day

Joyless Giving

The holidays have some truly terrible memories for me, but every year was miserable with a person like him.

Giving him gifts filled me with such dread.  He was so particular. If he didn’t like a gift, he'd tell you and he’d also berate you for being stupid. This wasn’t exclusive to me, but it was heightened to dangerous levels for me.

I would call him a spoiled brat if his hissy fits weren’t so terrifyingly violent.

Sometimes he was easy and said “This is what I want.” It may put me in debt, but at least I wasn’t going to be spit-screamed at.

Other years it was “buy me a new wardrobe” and refusing to answer follow up questions. I was panic-stricken; making the wrong decisions was Bad™, and with such vague instructions I was destined to mess something up.

I used to like giving gifts, but now I approach it with apprehension. He took the joy out of it. 

He took the joy out of everything.

The worst is when he did it to my parents. I felt so bad for them and ashamed of him. I don't ever need to worry about that again, and that eases some stress during the holidays.

I hope you all find some peace tonight and throughout the year to come. You deserve it.

Joyless Giving

The holidays have some truly terrible memories for me, but every year was miserable with a person like him.

Giving him gifts filled me with such dread.  He was so particular. If he didn’t like a gift, he’d tell you and he’d also berate you for being stupid. This wasn’t exclusive to me, but it was heightened to dangerous levels for me.

I would call him a spoiled brat if his hissy fits weren’t so terrifyingly violent.

Sometimes he was easy and said “This is what I want.” It may put me in debt, but at least I wasn’t going to be spit-screamed at.

Other years it was “buy me a new wardrobe” and refusing to answer follow up questions. I was panic-stricken; making the wrong decisions was Bad™, and with such vague instructions I was destined to mess something up.

I used to like giving gifts, but now I approach it with apprehension. He took the joy out of it. 

He took the joy out of everything.

Christmas Lists

Author: Anonymous

For: Aristi

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Word Count: 1,726

Rating: General 

Content: Gift giving, Fluff, Established relationship, Post-Hogwarts

Warnings: None

Summary:

Harry thought he was being ridiculously clever and romantic when he proposed that for their first Christmas together they must give each other gifts from the heart - nothing store-bought. They are both wealthy enough to buy whatever they want anyway. But he never expected that it would be this hard.

Read it now on AO3!

⛄️ This work is part of H/D Mistletoe, a Gay Wizard Boys server gift exchange. Please help spread the love by sharing your favourite works and leaving kudos and comments. If you would like to join the GWB, you can do so with this link: here. 🌨

https://l4ushopping.com/listing/another-day-at-the-dmv

Do you ever see something and think that it would make the perfect gift only to remember you're not friends with that person anymore? Yeah, me either...

i always have these big ideas for gifts for ppl's birthdays but then i dont jave enough money and i have to make it 'budget friendly' which essentially translates to boring.

How I make friends

1. Interact

2. You talk about specific characters not having enough art

3. I draw you alot of that art

4. Profit

My language is gift giving

Microwave Peanut Brittle - Brittle Making homemade candy that is delectably crunchy and easy to make is possible with this microwave peanut brittle. Perfect for treating yourself or giving gifts!

Merry Christmas to you All

Have a Joyful Christmas. Remember that Christmas joy doesn’t come from what’s under the tree.

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.” ― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

I have to give like 8 gifts for vastly different people by may 6th- I don't get payed till may 6th

I can't wait for the 🤨 looks I will get

>:]

💛

Warmest Wishes Holiday Card Download from Cottonbook

Clarrise collects parenting books.

Well she actually collects any books on self improvement.

Mr. D. has been gifted a book on “how to fight an alcohol addiction.” When hunters visited camp Artemis received a book titled “aroace myths and heroines.” Apollo wasn’t left out too, and got a collection copy of “Radium Girls.” Hestia got a couple books about food culture in different parts of the world, and Clarrise received a hug, a home made meal and a cup of hot chocolate after delivering every book.

She has a ton of other books stored in her closet, every single one is signed and wrapped by her. She has a book about “How to be an involved parent.” Well to be fair she has like five of those. One for Poseidon, one for Athena, one for Aphrodite, one for Hermes, and one for her own father. Hades has two books ready for him, one on the parenting skills and one about ‘people skills’ titled “How to read and show emotions, and how to praise your loved ones.” She has a book titled “How to love yourself and avoid toxic people” waiting for Hephaestus.

A book named “How to know if you and your partner need a divorce” for Hera, and a book about “Reasons to get a vasectomy” for Zeus, and a book titled “How to know if you’re an overprotective and controlling parent” with a coupon for therapy for Demeter. She wrapped one book with a dried flower bookmark for Persephone named “How to set boundaries, and make compromises.” And also a second book for Apollo, about history of “toxic medicine and how radium girls story affected our medical system.”

Most of them she will never give too the recipients, but its sort of a hobby for her, so she’ll never stop collecting them.

Update! Finished an art assignment. I went and held this cute little gecko, and then bought some fun stuff. The butterfly one is for a friend :]

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