#sometimes i feel like i get mad for nothing

[madamechrissy]

Took you Like a Shot - part 4 preview!

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

chap 3 here!

Warnings- sfw though the story is not, reader just dragged out Kuna and Sugu by the ear bc she's a baddie- fluff and emotions - coming soon (by the weekend likely!)

“You’ll let her treat us this way!?” Sukuna pouts, Satoru just shrugs. “Whipped.”

“So whipped.” Suguru agrees, Satoru glares at them as you take the two men by their ears, like an angry little thing dragging huge men out like it’s nothing, it’s probably the funniest thing he’s seen.

“No smoking in the house, we’re having a baby soon. Do it at home.” You finally get the two friends shoved out of Satoru’s penthouse, locking the door as Satoru walks up to you now, one hand over yours against the door, the other wrapping to hold you, pressing your back against him.

“Damn, mommy, look at you beating up men over six foot.” You giggle then, you can’t help it, looking up at him and turning your head, seeing his clear, blue eyes.

“You’re not high?” You ask softly, he shakes his head then, pressing little kisses to your hairline.

“I promised them primo weed to help me with the baby stuff, but they decided to smoke up when I told them to wait. But they really did help set it up���”

“I still don’t feel bad.” He laughs again as you turn, lifting your chin up to look at him while he leans down cupping your face.

“I thought it was hot.”

“Did you now?”

“Mmhmm.” He exhales, kissing you softly, lips pressing against yours hungrily, your arms slip up his chest now, wrapping his neck. “Beat them up all the time.”

“You’re such a freak I swear.” He chuckles again, picking you up for a moment, hugging you as your legs dangle, and it feels far, far too good. “I missed you a bit.”

“It was two days?”

“Shut up.” He sighs, feeling your bump against him, when the baby kicks hard, and you wince. “She’s mad at you.”

“Is she now?” He eases you down, getting on a knee and slipping your top up, pressing a kiss on your belly button, your hand runs through his silky hair as you gulp down far too many emotions.

You’ve fallen so deeply.

You wonder if this has always been there, all these years it’s been lingering in the fucking air - the longing for him, physically of course, sometimes you longed to just beat Satoru at everything. Sometimes you longed to beat him. But you always wanted his presence, annoying or not, and now as he looks up on one knee, smiling at you so sweet, you can hardly speak.

“You okay? They piss you off that much?” He teases softly, holding you by your hips, kissing your tummy lower, you tremble from your emotions, your desire.

“No, it’s… I told you I missed you, okay?” You glare again, he chuckles, continuing his kisses.

“You’re such a tsundere.”

“A what now!?”

“All angry outside but you’re sweet inside.” He puts his hand on your tummy as you lean against the door, the soft lights casting shadows from his long lashes as he feels for her kick once more.

“I’m moody and miserable, I know. But I do feel good today, the nausea seems to have finally gone away.”

“Good, I bought so many hot cheetos.”

“Yay!” He feels it then, the little kick, and he smiles, he looks so fucking adorable then you’re two steps from saying it, heart pounding.

“I love you already.” He whispers to your tummy, as she kicks his hand again, and tears start falling, dripping down onto his head, which make him look up at you, immediately standing, cupping your face. “What’s wrong!? Is she hurting you?”

“No, no not at all I…” You’re a mess, fuck you’re always a mess lately, sniffling as the moment hits you.

“What is it? Hormones?” He’s cupping your face, swiping at your tears. “Does it still smell like weed - I’ll kill them I swear. I got all that pumpkin spice stuff for-”

You cut him off with another kiss, and he tastes the salt of your tears, standing there for a moment in confusion when you pull back, sighing now. “I think I’m in love with you.”

yeppp hehe another part coming very soon (maybe this wknd!)

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[dcxdpdabbles]

Not a request or ask but just a thought dump that a lot of people have amity park placed in the midwest n stuff which is cool, but then they don't give Danny those midwestern behaviors (i am also guilty of this as a midwesterner). I just think it would add a ton of comedy to the situation. Because being from a small city in the midwest with little nightlife and going into a densely populated city in the east coast that feels damn near always awake is like a major change.

Being from the midwest, it's a lot of polite kindness and greeting with big smiles, handshakes, and sometimes side hugs. Its lengthy hellos and even longer goodbyes as you slowly by slowly creep towards the door to leave but ur host just keeps bringing up 1 more thing they just *have* to tell you about. Its saying 'ope sorry' when bumping into someone when its not even ur fault. (I am gonna be completely real, i never even realized I said ope, sorry i just thought it was a joke others had for ppl in the midwest but then I listened to myself and was slack-jawed in horror.)

Its saying 'yall' unironically, even when referring to 1 person. The kindness to go the extra mile for people some times and becoming close friends with coworkers because you dont do anything else with ur life bc its the midwest.

Idk, i just think it would be funny, especially since the majority of the batfam were raised in gotham (typically placed in new jersey) and the difference in accents would most certainly be a giveaway that danny is NOT from gotham. And if his accent didnt give him away then the way he acts with such open kindness and wide smiles would most DEFINITELY give him away that he is NOT a Gotham native. And that makes me seriously giggle. Because in a city that is dealing with new rouges and the typical terrors, being used to rough faces and sneers, the most suspicious ones are the happy ones with wide smiles and open demeanors. And that is why danny gets singled out, not because he was caught going ghost, not because he was found bleeding ectoplasm, not even because of his mad scientist heritage and lack of self preservation, its because hes So Damn Nice And Smiley It Just Cant Be Real.

(sorry this got so long ive just been wanting to share my thoughts with someone and you seemed like a good fit lmao)

I love fics that explore this! Especially when the people of Gotham freak out because only the Joker's men or the people on something smile that wide at strangers.

Danny would consider it rude if people are always rushing, like he's used to people at checkout telling each other short stories, like their grandson graduating. Their daughter is getting married, or hey, I remember that show! - Nothing more than a minute or two, but people in the city don't do that.

They think he's trying to steal or something, because why is he trying to distract them at work? Why is he acting so friendly? It's super suspicious.

(Or something like that because I'm southwestern and that's how some tourists act when they come to my little rural areas lol)

[littlelovelunette]

Hey!

Can we get.. a Sevika x Reader x Ran fluff thats slowly turns into a smut?

Like reader is upset because of something, and Ranvika tries their best to sooth and reassure reader, but reader is also horny aand...

Well, they work it out in the end.

Thanks!

Slowly Build-Up

Sevika x Fem!Reader x Ran

Threesome, sex, manhandling, mean!Sevika, oral, biting, squirting.

You were upset at both Sevika and Ran because they'd been unable to give you time on your anniversary night since there was business they needed to attend to. Silco's business. You spent the entire anniversary pacing about the room and wondering if they were okay. Not the most ideal form of celebration. The ticking of the wall clock only intensified your worries. All it would take is for a bit of the mission to go south and everything would fall off.

You were exhausted by the end of the night and ate a whole tub of ice-cream while watching cringe rom-com on the television. When Sevika opened the door with her spare key, Ran followed suit, tip-toeing around the mess of the room to see you.

"Oh, dear." They sat down next to your passed out form, moving the empty tub of ice-cream away from you. They wiped down your mouth with a wet cloth and moved the pile of candy wrappers from the bed.

"She finished the entire tub of ice-cream?" Sevika asked, moving the blankets so they covered more of your body.

"It even sounds bad when you say it like that." Ran mumbled.

"Yeah... Geez, I feel terrible." Sevika ran her hand through her hair in a stressed manner.

"There's nothing we can do about it." Ran said as if it'd offer the slightest bit of consolation.

"I know but still..."

"If both of us are absent from work on the same day, Silco'd catch on easy." Ran reasoned with her, stroking your hair.

"I know, genius."

When you woke up, you were sandwiched between the both of them but you didn't want to be. "Get off." You said coldly, shoving Sevika's arm off yourself.

"Calm down, babe—" Ran begin but you cut them off.

"You're one to talk!"

"I know you're mad but it was an actual emergency. Circumstances are inevitable sometimes and we—"

"Oh, zip it." You crawled out of bed, crossing your arms. "I'd believe you both if it was the first time it happened. But it's not."

"Baby..." Ran's voice was softer, as if this was their cue to cry but they didn't. "If I could've done something to make sure this wouldn't have happened again, I would've."

You glared.

"I mean it." Ran pleaded.

You looked away, teeth grinding in anger and something else alike pity bubbling in your chest. But you needed to hold onto your anger. It didn't help that usually the both of them woke you up with head. You were aching for some friction between your thighs.

"Baby," Sevika began and tried to grab your waist but you pulled away as if her touch burned you.

Sevika's eyebrows furrowed up, eyes giving you the cutest puppy-like stare ever. You scoffed. "This isn't the first time this happened." You repeated, huffing, "I just want you both to spend more time with me. But I don't say it as much as I want to, I'm scared you'll think I'm clingy. I just—" you looked away. "Fuck you both."

Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled you into her lap.

"Hey!—" you began but too late, Sevika's mechanical hand hooked behind your knee and pulled your leg up to reveal your soaked panties, your skirt flipping up.

"See that wetness?" Sevika asked Ran.

Ran's eyes were widened, slightly in horror because of the way Sevika manhandled you just now and slightly in awe that you were needy even when you were arguing and cursing the both of them out.

"Who would've guessed?" Ran muttered.

"She's bitchy like this, whenever she's needy and doesn't get what she wants." Sevika said, mechanical fingers rubbing your pussy over your panties earning a reluctant moan from you.

"Please, don't be mean about it," you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard enough to leave it swollen. "Please." You whispered.

"And now she wants us to be nice to her," Sevika smirked, spreading your legs further.

Ran got off the bed and knelt down in front of you, looking up at you, "You're this wet and complaining?" They leaned closer, fingers hooking at the crotch of your panties and then they effortlessly ripped the cloth right off. You squeaked in surprise.

Their hands slid up your legs, strong fingers pressing into the softness of your thighs. "Don’t hide from me now," they muttered, lips brushing your skin as they dragged them up along your inner thigh, leaving kisses that quickly turned into nips. Sevika held you wide open so Ran could enjoy their meal, whispering dirty praises into your ear as you struggled to contain yourself.

You gasped when their teeth sank gently into the meat of your thigh, a mark blooming there as your breath hitched. "Pretty sounds already?" Ran chuckled against your skin.

They took their time, licking a slow stripe up your slick folds, tasting you like they had all the time in the world. Their tongue was purposeful, firm, lapping over your clit in steady, deliberate strokes. You gripped Sevika's thighs roughly, legs trembling as they switched rhythm—soft licks followed by quick flicks, then suction that made your back arch off the bed.

"Fuck, Ran…" you whimpered, unable to stay still. Your hips rocked against their mouth, and they moaned in approval, the vibration shooting through you.

They wrapped their arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to their mouth, locking you there. One hand squeezed your thigh again, fingers pressing into the bite mark they’d left, as they devoured you. Wet sounds filled the room, slick and messy and absolutely obscene.

"Takin' it like a champ, bet you've been fantasizing," Sevika bit your neck.

And then—something shifted. Their tongue slipped lower for just a moment, teasing your entrance before diving back up, circling your clit fast and relentless. You felt it coming, that tight coil snapping loose all at once. You cried out, your thighs clamping around their head as your body spasmed. Wetness gushed out of you, a sharp, uncontrollable release that left you shaking.

Ran groaned low and filthy, letting you ride out every wave of it. Their lips shiny, chin soaked, they looked up at you with dark, wild eyes. "You squirt so fucking sweet," they muttered, licking their lips.

"Again," Sevika ordered.

[hvnsinureyes]

one random bf hc you have for your fav pookies go!

warnings | mainly fluff, implied sex in anthony’s part but nothing descriptive.

author’s note | added paige bc i love her that’s my bbg!! these hcs r probably rlly random but idc <3 if i forgot someone tho sorry i’m sleepy :(

paige bueckers |

loves to leave her stuff around your place. it’s not that she’s worried that you’re bringing other ppl around and wants to scare them away, but she lovess the thought of her being around even when she’s really not. whenever she’s on away games, she knows you won’t forget about her because her toothbrush is on the counter of your sink, her fav hoodie on ur bed, uconn merch scattered around your apartment, that damn ipad charging somewhere!! and don’t get her started with those polaroids. she’ll take 50 of pictures and play hide n seek with them. you found one in your fridge once. trust and believe she’s going nowhere. you like it that way anyways.

wemby |

i saw a pic on pinterest talking abt him being an npc and lowkey, i can imagine him hitting this 🧍🏽‍♂️pose like a npc all the time. you could literally be in the bathroom, calmly doing ur makeup and he comes in, standing straight while staring down at you. no words spoken, just watching. considering he’s 7’3, it’s a bit more scary because this random french guy is basically looming over you without saying a word?? when really, he’s admiring you and thinking, “wow my gf is so pretty 🥰 i love her so much!”

luka doncic |

luka still gets shy and blushes a lot around you— you could be married to him for 10 years straight and somehow, his face still flushes bright red when you tease him, call him handsome or some random petname, hold his hand, kiss him, etc. or when ever you appear, he gets all smiley, all 32 and gums showing mind you…if you call him out on it, he’ll brush it off and act like it’s nothing. it’s not. he’s really whipped btw.

jared mccain |

lowkey a secret therapist?? he is so in tune w/ ur emotions and feelings that it confuses you sometimes. you’ll be unaware you’re acting different— maybe you place a bottle of water down harder than usual and jared’s like, “mhm, yeah, you’re having a bad day aren’t you?” how does he always know?? that’s a secret he’ll never tell *wink wink*, but anyways, he gives the best advice. he’ll sit you down, bring a bunch of blankets, snacks, hugs, and hits you with that “so what happened today? how did that make you feel? should we try some breathing exercises?” if you’re looking for comfort or want to rant instead, he’s prepared for that as well. now if you want him to be mad with you? say less cuz he’s ready to cuss somebody out too!

steph curry |

great photographer, but gives superr facebook mom vibes. if you’re on vacation and you ask him to snap a pic of you, he’s making sure he gets a good background set up, makes you do 50 different poses, and says “just like that sweetie! remember to smile! now look off into the distance! justtt like that, yep!” you can complain all you want, but steph will make sure this camera captures your all ur beauty! btw he also posts it everywhere. seriously, even in a gc with his friends, he’ll show u off all proud like, “that’s my girl y’all!! always looking good!!”

jimmy butler |

thinks he's the funniest person on earth (he is but don't tell him that bc his ego will inflate too much.) dies laughing after he says something like, "that's what she said" or a random deez nuts joke. it's never that funny but the way jimmy reacts after saying it makes it funnier than it really is. jimmy gets so proud of himself the second he makes you laugh— genuinely starts considering becoming a stand up comedian... sure, babe!

nikola jokic |

the most helpful person ever, but acts like he doesn’t want to help if that makes sense?? you’ll ask him to bring you a cup of water and he’s like, "okay... 😐" but will bring back a full cup with the right amount of ice and a slice of lemon. if you offer to do it yourself instead, he is so quick to say no!! deep down, he loves helping you in whatever way he can. so absolutely not, don’t even think about lifting a single finger. never tries to make you feel bad about it, he's just a lil sassy.

anthony edwards |

always wants a kiss!! he will literally hold you at gunpoint (not literally lmfao) until you give him one. it’s that serious. you could be late for an appointment, damn near rushing out the door, and he’ll stop you saying, “damn i can’t get no kiss goodbye? c’mere ma,” then kisses you like it’s his last day on earth. do not give in!! next thing you know, you’re making out and he’s about to carry you back to bed. go ahead and reschedule, because you’re gonna be late. even if he says, “just 5 minutes, i promise.”

austin reaves |

austin does not play about his playlists!! he has one for when he’s feeling sad, feeling good, warmup playlist, car playlist, and the one he shares with you. honestly, he’s probably more of a rock, country, and rap guy. if you have completely different taste in music than him, at first he would tolerate listening to it. now? it doesn’t matter if it’s kpop, charli xcx, or taylor swift— he’s singing along with you! can he actually sing? absolutely not, but with his country accent, it’s the cutest thing ever. as long as you ignore his voice cracks.

jj redick |

i saw a vid about how he’s a huge lego nerd and i cannot stop thinking about it!! i’m sure y’all would have lego date nights— dinner with a glass of wine while you build ridiculously intricate lego sets together. sometimes, you’ll even have competitions to see who can finish a set first (somehow he wins every time??). i feel like he’s one of those really talented people who can make anything out of random legos, so he’ll probably build a bouquet of flowers or your favorite character. a little wonky looking maybe, but it means so much because it’s from him. i know in my heart y’all have tiny lego versions of yourselves. he’ll make it into a keychain, you have jj’s and jj has yours, so that you guys are always together even when you’re apart.

[lavenderhateswritting]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTj6S4hus/ This is any of the marks if reader doesn’t answer them because they are doing hero stuff or just working btw

Sinester, Eyeless, and Mohawk my loves

Sinister Mark

~ His first reaction when you miss his call is usually to just go wherever you are and "handle" whatever is keeping your attention

~ He has just appeared wherever you are and killed the villain you're fighting or jumped into the conversation you were holding. Sometimes you'll not even notice he's called you until he is just standing in front of you

~ He doesn't care if you find it weird either he actually finds it annoying that you made him take the extra effort to have to come find you. Could he just text you and wait for you to finish what you're doing? Of course, but he's never going to do that.

"Why didn't you answer my call" he was standing in front of you with his arms crossed covered head to toe in blood. He hadn't even had the decency to change into his superhero suit. "I was busy fighting the monster you just gutted" he looked over at the creature who he had just ripped the heart of as if it was nothing. "Don't be ridicoluos that thing was like an ant you could have finished this fight in 5 minutes." He looked huffy even though the last time you said that he threw a fit. "Cecil wanted to take this thing in alive." "Yeah well I wanted to talk to my partner and not have to come out here to the middle of nowhere." Sometimes this man pushed you to your limits. "Fine what did you need Mark" He looked at you without a hint of irony or shame and said : "I wanted to know if you wanted me to get Chinese food before you came home"

Eyeless Mark (20/20)

~ Such a whiny brat.

~ He stews in whatever made him mad and when you ignore his phone calls he definitely just sits at home stewing in how you've ignored him and how he's basically nothing to you.

~ You will come home to the silent treatment and passive agressive bullshit that you're going to have to be super nice to him and suck up to him to get him out of it.

"Mark, come on. I said I was sorry." You watched as he continued to fold his arms and ignore you. "I was working, and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm sorry." The fucker just picked up the remote sitting next to him and turned up the volume higher. "Really, silent treatment. Can we please act like adults?" Still nothing. This is how it went for the rest of the day until dinner. You tried your hardest, you begged, you bribed, and even did the silent treatment back, but Mark still ignored you. So you decided to bring out the big guns. He was back to sitting in front of the TV watching a show, but you could tell that you caught his attention when you walked into the room. You walked over to stand directly in front of him and then slid yourself onto his lap. "Mark," you kissed him on his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't answer you." You kissed him on his forehead. " It won't happen again, I promise." You kissed him on the lips. He accepted it gladly, and he gripped your waist and pulled you even closer to him. He popped away from the kiss with a line of spit connecting the two of you. He smirked. "I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you." He inched his hands further up and leaned in for a kiss, and then you pulled away and stood up

"Well, that's good." "Y/N, wait, where are you going?" He stood up to and watched you as you walked toward the front door. "Oh, I was gonna go eat out for dinner, didn't feel like cooking. I'm so glad we could make up, though, bye Mark." You opened the door and walked out. "Wait, I'll come with."

Mohawk Mark

~ Yeah, he's the type to leave you a voicemail, cursing you out.

~ Because why the fuck would you ever act like you can just not pick up his phone call? He will scream into the phone like a crazy person, and it will freak everyone out.

~ He will not scream that much at you. If anything, he did it because he thought it was funny and not because of any genuine anger.

"Oh fuck Mark called me while we were fighting." You were covered in sweat, and heaving even though Eve looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat. "Damn and he left a voicemail." "Oh, what did he say?" She leaned over your shoulder and watched as you clicked on the voicemail your boyfriend had sent you. "Y/N. DON'T YOU EVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE THINK THAT YOU CAN HAND UP ON ME YOU SON OF A BITCH. PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE." The line went dead, and you and Eve just stared at each other. "You should probably call him." "Yeah," You stared at the phone in silence as you called Mark until he picked up. "Hi Mark, what did you need?" You heard him shuffling around, and then the sound of him shoveling something in his mouth. "There are no more chips; you should pick some up on your way home." "That's all?" "Yep, see ya."

[lipstickmarks]

*cracks knuckles*

Brat Sloane and Brat Tamer Dain

sloane be slobbering on it

Sloane is obsessed with their size difference and it boosts Dain’s self esteem

they both have a glow up once they get together. Sloane starts glowing from feeling so relaxed and stress free and Dain gets a little swagger in his step from how much Sloane gasses him up. Basically, they both look better bc they both feel better

their spats always end in sex. not big fights like “you risked your life unnecessarily and i’m mad at you” but “why would you tell Aaric about our sex life?!” "We were playing Never Have I Ever!"

Dain loves to spoil. He never assumed he’d be the type to drop all his life savings on gifts for his person but Sloane brings it out in him. He just has the urge to shower her with presents and make sure she’s always happy. When others catch on, they give him shit for it but when Dain starts to get into the really extravagant gifts, everyone’s like “sugar daddy Dain????”

they’re that couple that’s ALWAYS on vacation to the point that it annoys other people😭

sloane loves to cuddle. dain likes it but sloane is always rearranging them and then accidentally elbowing him in the chin and jamming her hair in his mouth. sloane just wants to be inside his skin. 🤷🏻‍♀️

dain will be laying in bed, chatting about nonsense and then all of a sudden— whoops! sloane pulls his dick out and starts running her thumb over his head. “Go ahead baby, I’m listening”

sloane gets so hot and bothered around Dain. she sometimes sneaks into his bag while he’s at the gym and steals his sweat towel so she can smell it: then she uses it to get herself off when he’s not around.. WHO SAID THAT

when Dain finds out he’s been robbed, he punishes her. he uses that same towel as a gag while he’s fucks her from behind and punishes her with ass slaps.

Sloane is Dain’s peace. He’s a bit at war with himself, grappling with the things he’s done and the consequences of falling for propaganda. The lives that his obedience and incidental complacency claimed. Sometimes, he straight up fucking HATES himself. Those times, when things get really bad, he’ll wrap Sloane up in a hug from behind, biceps tight across her chest, and breathe her in. Hot tears will prick his eyes as he mutters into the crown of her head, “I don’t deserve you.”

Then Sloane always sits him down and proves that that is indeed not the case. “Dain, I am choosing you. You’re not your mistakes. You are who I love. You have to believe you’re worthy of that.”

Dain needs a lot of reassurance. He had to change his perspective very quickly and sometimes it still makes his head spin. Sloane grounds him, keeps him sane, reminds him that there are certain truths that can never be covered up or altered. Like the fact that they were made for each other. She’ll swing her leg over his in bed and snuggle into his chest. “Look how well we fit, baby.”

Oh, speaking of pet names— Sloane loves to call Dain by endearments. He needs a lot of love and assurance and Sloane is more than happy to comply. Baby, sweetheart, my love, they all turn Dain into a blushing mess. And considering how often Dain has her blushing and stuttering in bed, it’s a nice exchange of power.

Dain calls Sloane “Mairi” when he’s really pissed at her, but only in the field. In the bedroom, she is Sloane, sweetheart, my love, or baby.

they love messy, nasty sex. If the sheets aren’t soaked through from Sloane squirting then did they even do it?

Sloane is addicted to wearing clothes with Dain’s last name on it. Flight jacket? Yes. T-shirt? Yes. If it says Aetos, hand it the fuck over.

Dain also loves it when Sloane wears his last name. He especially loves fucking her in nothing but those articles of clothing.

Dain proposes while they’re laying in bed. Sloane offers him a simple act of kindness like handing him a tissue or fixing his bed head and he knows right then and there he wants her to be his wife.

they have 3 little girls and they all are identical to sloane. an army of mini sloanes. dain is obsessed with all of them.

I've been curious—what are some of your favorite Sloane/Dain headcanons? I need to fill the void; I miss those two.

[revelboo]

Transformers fandom is a prison that I willingly entered and no plan getting out so much that I hyper fixated and now learning shield metal arch welding just because of sheer curiosity of how to weld metal.

Your fics and others help fuel it and I don't regret it. I ain't getting out of this prison 😩

🤣 hey, it’s a fun prison and you can think of welds as Cybertronian scars

Everything Is Alright Pt 155

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Staring at them as they just stare back, you don’t if you’re reassured that they’re as clueless as you are or if you should be legitimately worried that none of you have the slightest clue what you’re doing. And you think you can raise an alien kid? That you also know nothing about. That’s going to be bigger than you are. With three aliens, two of which you love even if they tend to piss you off sometimes and a third that goes out of his way to piss you off for his own amusement. “So none of you know anything about how this works,” you manage.

• And there’s the distress, your emotions making Soundwave’s servos twitch with his urge to reach for you and shield you from everything that upsets you. Unfortunately hiding you in his cassette compartment also upsets you. “We could always just bond daily to see if anything happens,” Megatron says, reaching like he’s about to take you from Starscream to make the seeker’s wings flare. Delighting in antagonizing the other mech and you. “For the good of the sparkling you foisted upon me.”

• Venting angrily as he cups you close to his chassis, Starscream’s tempted to copy Soundwave and pop you into his canopy. At least he wouldn’t have to fend off Megatron trying to grab you. Of course, you get mad at Soundwave for doing that and he’d rather stay on your good side. “The sparkling is fine,” he hisses, even as his own spark aches. Hoping those words are true. Because he can’t bond with you and feel that little spark tangled in you. All because Megatron stole his sparkling from you.

• “Shockwave might know about spark development,” Soundwave suggests and you groan. Your dislike for the scientist so over the top, it’s amusing. Insinuating himself between Starscream and Soundwave, Megatron reaches to run a servo down your arm and hears Soundwave’s disgruntled vent clearing as Starscream’s turbines whistle slightly and you immediately swat at him. Little face upturned to frown at him before your eyes drop to the protoform and you shudder. That look on your face giving him pause. Are you bothered by the protoform?

• He’s like a little boy, just can’t stop picking at you and Star. Scowling at him as you remember a boy annoying the heck out of you in elementary school because he’d liked you and had thought pestering you was the way to go about getting your attention. That’s not what Megaton’s doing, though. He’s just a jerk. It’s not like he’s starved for attention when he’s usually surrounded by his command. But you can’t help but think of that little boy sitting at the desk behind you, leaning forward to pull your hair.

Previous

[yosuk-e]

i find comfort in you; ft. tsukishima

in which the reader finds him dejected after a lost practice match.

a/n: for the request i got today! had a super sudden burst of motivation to write (instead of reviewing for exams yayyy......) so i hope you enjoy this. also, i'm aware this might be a bit ooc for tsukishima, whoops. i was planning for a bokuto & kenma version of this prompt too, so let me know if you'd like that.

tsukishima

kei was never one to sulk about volleyball. you'd known that since he made it painfully clear that no, he does not care about this sport, because it's just a club. a just because, and that it was never going to be anything more than that. he'd been that way about it with basically everything for as long as you two had known each other, and you sometimes wondered whether he genuinely enjoyed anything thoroughly at all, except for maybe you and dino-shaped chicken nuggets.

tonight was different, though.

tonight, tsukishima didn't greet anybody, other than a muffled "i'm home." tonight, kei went straight to his room, in a flurry of frustration both at the fact that they had in fact lost that practice game they were working tirelessly for, but also at the fact that he even cared so much, especially after the many times that he's asserted he doesn't. on an even more concerning note, he's entirely ignored you. left you no message, gave you no call. all which left you with a growing pit of anxiety at the ring background you desperately hoped would illuminate your phone screen, "any moment now..."

6:37PM. you hummed in annoyance at the number. why is it taking him so long to call? is he busy? did something happen? you take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself.

ding! you scramble to your bed where you've left your phone to charge.

three new messages - kei

you hurry to read the messages in a rush.

left displeased with the interaction with your boyfriend, you huff. it wasn't abnormal for you and tsukishima to fight. arguing was sort of your love language, even. this was just odd. not an explanation, just a shutdown.

you make up your mind and rush to get dressed. there is no way he's this upset and you can't comfort him about it. you weren't going to let him grow distant when he needs you most, so you dash over to his house, in as little time as possible.

7:23PM. you make it there, standing awkwardly at the door of his room, a pit growing in you. are you overstepping? maybe he just needed some alone time, and you're acting like a pushover? what if-

creak. the door opens, and you're greeted with wide eyes and a soft voice. "yn?" you gulp. how stupid is it that you've been silently standing here for 2 minutes? "uhh... have you just been standing?" tsukishima says, with some slight, but noticeable judgement in his voice. "yeah..."

a smile (so very slightly) appears on his face, as he pulls on your arm gently to let you in the room, his door shutting with a soft click. and you both stare, awkwardly, until you finally begin, "look, i know you wanted to be left alone, but-"

but nothing, because in that same moment, the near 190cm giant you were standing next to leans over, and rests his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you, leaving no space for movement. "i'm sorry."

"you're sorry? no, kei it's-"

"we lost the game. it was shitty. i'm mad, and i don't want to be. i want to not feel like i cared about this so much, because, well, fuck. it's just a club. it's supposed to be just a club." tsukishima holds you close, in his strong, unrelenting grasp making you feel at home. "we all put a lot of work into it. i put a lot of work into it. shit. it's whatever."

your arms free themselves from his grip gently, making their way to his hair, playing with the soft, blonde strands. "kei..."

"-and it's fucking, damn it. nothing. it was nothing."

you hum encouragingly. tsukishima might've not been the most social, the most outgoing, or the best with words. but for now, for this moment, it was enough.

your hands cup his face to kiss his forehead lightly, and press it against yours, softly saying, "it's okay. you can always tell me."

your evening is filled with rants, rambles, and complaints, but you wouldn't wish for it to be any other way.

a/n: i did NOT proofread this so if you see anything wrong hush.....

[httpvomitello]

Rivals to Lovers – Joaquin Torres x Y/N: They’re always trying to outdo each other—until one kiss changes the game.

I hope you like it ~ ☆

Point for You .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: You and Joaquin Torres have a rivalry that’s anything but gentle. Whether it's sparring, training scores, or who can finish a mission faster, you’re always trying to outdo each other. But the longer the game goes, the more personal it feels—until a heated argument during a mission turns into something neither of you can take back. One kiss. And the game changes.

joaquin torres x f!reader

You weren’t even trying to compete with him—at first.

But then Joaquin Torres sauntered into the briefing room with that smug grin and dared to say, “I’m not saying you’re slow, just that I was back with intel twenty minutes before you.”

You had glared at him across the table. “Oh, you want to race? Let’s race.”

Since then, it had been on.

Whether it was hand-to-hand sparring, obstacle course times, drone tracking, or who could bring back more intel on recon, everything between you and Joaquin had turned into a contest. The other recruits found it hilarious. Sam didn’t even bother pretending to mediate anymore. Bucky muttered things like “just kiss already” under his breath when you were both within earshot.

But you didn’t kiss.

You bickered. You beat each other’s scores. You sometimes helped each other in secret when no one was looking. And then you bickered again.

And it was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

You stretched your arms over your head as you stepped onto the mat. The training room was already buzzing with activity, and of course, there he was—Joaquin, running drills with a smirk on his face like he already knew he was going to win today.

“Hey, slowpoke,” he called as you approached, voice teasing. “You coming to lose again or just here for moral support?”

You rolled your eyes, tying your hair back. “I came to wipe that grin off your face.”

He grinned wider. “Promises, promises.”

You started with sparring. Close contact. Fast-paced. Neither of you willing to back down. His style was more agile, yours more grounded. He liked to play dirty—you liked to make him regret it.

Ten minutes in, you had him pinned.

“Tap out, Torres.”

He was breathing hard beneath you, hair messy, face flushed. “Never.”

“You’re gonna pass out.”

“Maybe I just like the view from here.”

Your breath caught.

For one insane second, your brain short-circuited at the heat in his voice. You hesitated.

He flipped you.

You groaned, flat on your back now. “Cheap move.”

“Effective, though,” he said, laughing as he got up and offered you a hand.

You took it—maybe a little too quickly.

You were paired up again. Just the two of you. Intel retrieval in a hot zone. Quick in, quick out. Nothing fancy.

Joaquin nudged your elbow as Sam droned on about protocol. “Winner gets bragging rights.”

You raised a brow. “I already have those.”

“We’ll see.”

The sun was sinking low as you weaved through the building, ears tuned to Joaquin’s voice in your comms.

“North corridor’s clear. You still trailing behind?”

You smirked, taking a sharp left. “I’m already in the server room.”

A pause. Then, “Damn.”

You collected the files, backed out, and met him at the exfil point five minutes later. He was leaning against a wall, chest rising and falling from the sprint.

“Not bad,” he said, catching your eye. “For someone who cheats.”

“You’re just mad I’m faster.”

He laughed, stepping closer. “You’re gonna make this personal?”

“You always make it personal.”

Your words came out sharper than expected. And he didn’t step back.

Something in his eyes flickered. “You think I don’t notice you watching me during training?”

Your breath hitched. “That goes both ways.”

And just like that, the air shifted.

He was too close now. You could feel the heat off his body, the way his jaw clenched, the tick of his pulse.

“Say it,” he said quietly.

“Say what?”

“That this isn’t just a game anymore.”

Your heart thudded loud in your chest.

“I don’t play games, Torres.”

“Good.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was the kind of kiss that had been building up for months—fast, hungry, messy. He grabbed your waist, and you pulled him closer, fingers digging into the fabric of his vest. It was heat and frustration and every moment you’d wanted to shut him up finally paying off.

When you broke apart, you were both breathless.

He rested his forehead against yours. “So… do I win this round?”

You laughed, still catching your breath. “I think it’s a tie.”

“Rematch?” he asked, voice rough.

You smirked. “Always.”

[chahaezii]

I came up with this random fanfic idea while playing Valorant earlier and reading Kana's post, so, thought I'd post it here LOL

ps. in no way am I a professional writer like many of you, so bare with my basic grammar and vocabularies please.. 🥀

"Love, are you okay right now? Are you hurting anywhere?" Jinwoo's voice was soft and gentle, genuine concern could be heard around it as he spoke to you, asking about your well-being. Apparently, you got your period today and started being moody about it. He pats your head as you laid your head on his shoulders.

You shook your head slightly, you don't feel anything as of now but you know you will soon. Every time you're on your period, your first couple days are the equivalent of being tortured. The cramps never go easy on you and Jinwoo knows that damn well too.

"Darling, I know this must really suck for you. How about I treat you with some massages? Or maybe any snacks you'd like?" Jinwoo tries his best to give you some sense of comfort. He knows how much you hate your period, how much it changes your mood and such. He can't do much but he'll try his best to help you in any way he can.

"Some snacks sound good, Jin." You softly spoke to him, it was pretty obvious you were upset and mentally exhausted. You got your head off of his shoulder and he stood up to go and grab a couple snacks, specifically your favorite snacks and even a blanket to keep you warm and cozy.

He got back to you with the snacks and a blanket, he handed you over the snacks and wrapped the blanket around you. He sat next to you on the sofa, staying close to you to make sure you're comfortable. He knows you enjoy having good company around, especially when it's himself.

"Thanks, Jin. I appreciate it, a lot." You wrapped your hands around him, pulling him into a cuddly position. Not leaving the blanket behind while you did so. It was cozy, warm and amazing. You feel as if you wanted to stay there in that very position forever.

Jinwoo couldn't help but smile. He loved seeing you all sweet with him. He enjoys your presence just as much as you enjoy his. He took his hand to softly caress your shoulders, hoping to relax you a little more.

"I'm glad to be here for you. You're my wife after all, no?" You could hear him softly chuckling after he finished his sentence. It really did make you happy just to see this side of him. To hear him be all soft and gentle with you behind closed doors. Others would fear him for he is one of the most powerful S-Rank hunters, but for you? He's just a really loving, caring and gentle husband. You love that about him. How he has a soft spot for you and only you. Sometimes you wonder if he's really terrifying as people say, you never really see him get mad or upset at anything. Well, technically, he hides his negative emotions away from you since he doesn't want to end up hurting you in any way. But you didn't know that. No way is he going to tell you that anyways, it's better off as a little secret according to him.

"Yeah that's right, you're my husband after all too. I love you, Jin. I'm glad you're mine."

Such a sentence sent Jinwoo to cloud 9. He feels as if he's falling in love with you all over again when he hears you speak of such words at him. Realizing how much he loves being called yours. His expression was soft, you could easily tell he was trying his best not to blush. But you liked seeing this sight of him. It's not usual anyways as he always tries to act all nonchalant and cold. But he can't easily mask his feelings when he's with you. You're his weakness, for the better or for the worse. He doesn't care, all he cares about is how much he loves and adores you. You're a piece of him, a piece that completes him as a person. You're his safe place, his one and only. He could never bare to lose you. If he does, he'd burn the world down if that's what it takes to get you back. He'd do anything for you, anything at all.

"I love you too, my dearest."

It's nothing much but I just needed to spoil myself with some wholesome stuff about Husband!Jinwoo 🥀 god i love this man so much i swear it HURTS. <//3

; Heavy inspirations from @heyimkana !! (I love your works so much, please don't explode 🙏)

I was listening to this song while writing <3

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

very sorry, I accidentally requested when it wasn’t open, but since it is now I know you might have deleted my ask so I will say it again

if your comfortable doing so, could we have like a twisted Razzle and Dazzle seeing twisted reader again (angst) or if your not comfortable writing for RnD, same concept but with twisted Astro?

Twisted Razzle & Dazzle Seeing Twisted Reader Again!

Hey, dear anon! No worries, I'm not mad or anything! I won't delete requests anymore unless I deny them. If your request is at the bottom of my pinned post, it means I'll get to work on it eventually and it's accepted!

Aughh, I love writing for twisteds!! And angst too? Mhmm!! Count me in! I like this scenario a lot! I'm becoming more and more comfortable writing angst, hehehe! Here you go, dear anon! Thank you for requesting! <3

-Anna

-It hurt them to separate their heads so they would stick together as they sit on the floor, not wanting to open their eyes or wanting to move, having tied themselves down like that. They would close their eyes and take deep shaky breaths as they rocked back and forth. It was enough to calm them down, trying to focus on other things rather than the pain the ichor was giving them. They both lost half of their faces so they stuck together their heads for each other, so that they feel at least a bit normal for once.. like they haven't lost anything.

-They would get aggressive when a twisted made noise or run in the circle they have created without knowing themselves, as if wanting others to stay away from their safe space. The anger from wanting others to stay out of their comfort zone was strong enough that they send sharp red vines to push them out of there or injure them SO good that it made them run away, teaching them a lesson and not disturb them ever. Silence calms them down, even letting them close their eyes and doze off so they won't feel the pain as much.

-Oh, but when YOU stepped into the circle a bit too loud on accident, their eyes opened immediately and they got up, shaking a lot as they shot a vine towards the direction of your footstep with pure anger but they stopped it immediately once they saw who it was... It was you, but as a twisted. Their eyes observed your twisted form as the vine retreated to the ground slowly, their anger was replaced with something else. They made their hands a tight fist as they felt miserable.

-All they could do was stare at you with the usual intense red eyes of theirs, they felt ichor run down their cheeks as they started crying. Razzle's smile becoming a frown and Dazzle opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but nothing came out, the ichor had destroyed them completely, their thoughts, their bodies as they felt negative emotions like there was no tomorrow. They watched as you took steps back slowly, understanding that this specific zone will hurt you more alongside the ichor to pass safely.

-Sometimes you needed to pass through, so you tried to be quiet, seeing as dead silent made them calm down. While the ichor has destroyed your thought process a lot, at least you could understand somewhat some things such as this. It seemed to work and sometimes you accidentally stepped a bit too loud during the end and made them stand up as they shook, looking over at you silently, observing your every single movement. Sometimes you stayed and they sat down again, gripping their shirt tightly as they tried taking deep breaths as they split their heads apart.

-Sometimes you left without looking back, only caring to pass through and not disturb them and they would just watch as you got out of their sight and they shook, oh they shook alright as some ichor tears fell out. Small glimpses of memories of you hanging out with them would come into their minds and they might get even more aggressive as they try gripping the spot that hurt the most on their heads, shaking and grunting, trying to make it stop. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts and they don't want to deal with it, they want silence.

-It would happen a lot when they kept seeing you more and more, they had a feeling that you were someone very important to them but then pain followed and they didn't know what to do, often breaking down crying as they hoped it would pass fast. They knew you were the cause but something in them didn't want to hurt you at all and they didn't know why at all. It made them frustrated as tears would blur their vision, what was with you..?! They didn't know!!

-But one time, you happened to pass by when they were super frustrated. They thought it was another twisted on this floor and shot vines in your direction as they had their eyes closed, gripping their heads from all the pain but their eyes became open immediately when they heard your cries and looked in your direction, big frowns in both faces as ichor fell on the floor from you. You had fallen down as your leg was injured and it hurt a lot, you cried as it hurt and they froze completely after they realized fully what they had done.

-They could only watch as you got up and made a run for it and that's when they realized that they were crying again. They tried to yell for you as their hands reached out and they walked towards your direction but they couldn't move that far, being tied down on the floor and all. They weeped as their legs gave out, hiding their faces in shame from hurting you. They could always try to untie themselves but it was so hard when they felt so weak after all this time.

-So they could only stay there, next to the small pile of ichor from YOU. They can always hug their knees again as they rocked back and forth, taking deep breaths, they can always sit in an opposite direction so they can't see it but the fact that it's right there on the floor will never leave their poor minds. They never shot another vines to anyone else ever again, they were shaking more and were more paranoid, not wanting to hurt anything and anyone. They just want to be alone, so they don't hurt you and to minimize the pain as much as possible. They didn't know if you will ever get close to them ever again as they only stared at the floor, trying to calm down for minutes, hours, days, you name it.

Thank you for reading! <3

[deterioratingpisces]

The Vampire Armand, high school drama teacher from hell.

He always chooses plays that are wildly inappropriate for the age range of his students. "Today we begin rehearsals for A Streetcar Named Desire! What? It’s about family!"

He takes his work way too seriously and expects nothing short of perfection. A forgotten line or missed cue is treated as a personal betrayal.

He refuses to call it “the school play.” No, it’s always referred to as The Production. Like it’s a Broadway masterpiece, and he treats it as such.

His punishments for lateness or lackluster performances are absurdly theatrical. A student misses their mark? "Congratulations, you’re now the understudy for the curtain!"

For every performance, he overdresses like he’s about to win a Tony. Rather than show off high schoolers' work to a room full of parents who’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

Verbal abuse is a daily occurrence. Not modern, explicit insults, but long-winded, theatrical tirades that leave students more confused than hurt. “I can see the potential in you—it’s just buried beneath layers of mediocrity and despair!”

Don’t you EVER, under ANY circumstances, try to leave his rehearsal early. Your doctor’s appointment? Postponed. Your sister's in emergency surgery? Unimportant. A relative is on their deathbed? Armand will tell you, “The true death is the death of your commitment to art.” You’ll leave the rehearsal wondering if your life has any meaning outside of his production.

One time, a group of shunned students tried to start a revolution against him. They made the fatal mistake of trying to get him removed from his position. Rumor has it that, by the end of that semester, none of them were seen on campus again. Some say they transferred to other schools. Others claim they’ve been “reassigned” to a different universe, one where Armand reigns supreme.

Once, he made everyone meditate for an entire rehearsal. In complete silence. The only sound was the soft swish swish of Armand pacing in front of the group, whispering phrases like "Feel the despair of the character. Embody the void." It ended with him dramatically fainting in the center of the circle, causing everyone else to panic.

He tapes every performance and subjects the cast to endless replays to highlight their mistakes. He treats this like he’s coaching a national sports team. "Look at this moment. What’s that on your face? A smile? Was this a comedy? No. Try again."

If a parent tries to intervene in his unorthodox methods, he breaks them too. "Oh, you want this to be a fun experience for your child? Let me show you what happens when mediocrity is allowed to flourish." By the end, the parent is running errands for him alongside their kid.

You want to leave the production? Good luck. Once you're in, there is no turning back. You may think you’ve found a way out, but suddenly you have hooded figures following you at all times, dropping off weird newspaper cutout letters at your house, vandalizing your locker with big red letters that say “TRAITOR.” Eventually, you’ll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness.

His assistant is an eleven-year-old with a clipboard that he simply calls “Boy.” He frequently complains to him:
“Boy, where’s my iPad?”
“Boy, have you seen his delivery of the soliloquy? A piece of bread could convey more emotion.”
“Boy, what’s your opinion on arson?”
“Has anyone seen the boy? I need him to fetch something for me… yes, it’s my iPad.”

Sometimes, during breaks, they play Minecraft or Roblox together. He gets mad whenever the boy beats him at Dress to Impress, though. “There’s no way that shabby look beat my elegant ensemble!” Whenever he’s feeling extra petty, he even sends him to clean his office as punishment.

He makes a massive spectacle out of releasing the cast list: fog machines, backup music, extras in costumes, choreographed performances—an entire Olympian-level ceremony. "And now... THE LEAD! Drumroll, please!"

He regularly fights with other teachers for not prioritizing The Production. “Your physics test? How adorable. The Production is the only education they need.”

The props department hates to see him coming. He demands Broadway-level sets from students working with cardboard and acrylic paint. “What is this? A tree? I’ve seen more realistic trees in The Lorax.”

He forces other art teachers to produce props during their classes. Pottery class? Now they’re making urns for The Production.

If his stars are stuck in other classes, he silently enters the room and glares at the teacher until they release the student. “No, no, don’t interrupt your lecture on photosynthesis. The future of theater can wait.”

He’s got the headmaster under his spell, so don’t even think about complaining to them. You might have a heated argument about his dismissal of your class, but when you storm into the headmaster’s office, guess who's already there, sipping tea and laughing like they’re in on some inside joke? (Spoiler: They are.)

His biggest rival is the drama teacher at the neighboring school, Lestat de Lioncourt. They’ve been sworn enemies since preschool. Their rivalry began when they both applied for the lead role in their school play. Neither of them got the part and blamed the other for it.

He sends his 11-year-old assistant to sabotage Lestat in petty ways—keying his car, putting dark blonde dye in his silver shampoo, or mixing laxatives into his protein powder. Nothing is off-limit.

He does this especially as a stress relief whenever something goes wrong in The Production. If their lead actress breaks her leg, he’ll casually say, “Boy, I need you to go and see to it that Mr. Lioncourt’s car gets towed.”

He and Mr. Lioncourt always attend each other’s plays. Afterwards, they exchange viciously backhanded compliments: “Now this play really was something. You’ve got a way of making the audience think—mostly about leaving during the intermission.” “Your style of directing is so fresh—it's like you’ve never seen a play before.” “You must tell me where you get your costumes tailored. They were so captivating, I almost didn’t notice when half of your cast forgot their lines.”(They’d never admit it, but they are kind of best friends.)

When stressed, Armand retreats into the world of Just Dance. He’ll dash into his office, and before you know it, you’re hearing the unmistakable "Dannnceee" intro blast through the door. On days you hear "Rasputin" pumping from the cracks in the walls, run. Something's gone terribly, terribly wrong.

His idea of rewards for students is... baffling. A lock of his hair? A recitation of an original theatre piece in the school hallway? Or the ultimate honor: an invitation to witness his one-man show. "This, my dear pupil, is your reward: the privilege of experiencing true art."

One day, his students stumbled upon a recording of his one-man show. A surreal spectacle in which Armand, clad in a series of increasingly ridiculous wigs, argued with himself for three hours. The props? A lone chair, which he threw dramatically around, and a crumpled newspaper he swore was "crucial to the plot," but never actually read.

He has personalised, often insulting, nicknames for every student in the cast. If he’s feeling generous, you might get called “The Chosen One” or “The Future of Broadway.” If not... well, "The Prose Butcherer" might be on the docket. Or worse: "The Disappointment," which he says with a lingering stare.

Rehearsal speeches that drag on for hours. By the time he finishes, half the cast has nodded off, and the rest are wishing they had, too. It’s always the same: “The characters are in you, feel their pain... feel it!”

Production posters that look like they cost a fortune. Seriously, how does a high school drama department afford high-quality photo shoots? These posters are so professionally done, people are starting to ask if he’s siphoning funds from somewhere… somewhere.

Absurd warm-up rituals. Don’t even think about going on stage without going through Armand’s hour-long warm-up. This includes screaming into the void, contorting your body into poses inspired by ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, and chanting lines from Macbeth in an attempt to "invoke the spirits of tragedy."

Pre-show pep talks that are mostly threats with a thin layer of encouragement. “I’ve prepared you to the best of my abilities. You’re not just actors... you are vessels for my vision. Fail me, and you will never know peace.” (He says this in the dark, under a single flickering lightbulb, to REALLY set the mood.)

At some point, they get used to his weird antics and emotional tirades. So much so that they get seriously worried for him whenever he doesn’t flip out when something goes wrong. When a prop breaks or someone misses their cue, the cast watches in horrified silence, waiting for the explosion. But when it doesn’t come, they look at each other, unsure whether to feel relieved or more terrified.

They try to figure out what’s wrong with him and find a way to cheer him up. Was he banned from his favourite Minecraft server again? Are things not going well at home? Maybe he’s just overexerted himself? They try to be on their best behaviour, tiptoeing around him like nervous mice to make sure they’re not the ones to make him suddenly implode. Then, just as they’re about to lose hope, Armand looks up from his iPad, elated, and announces that they’ve once again made it to the regionals. The cast collectively exhales in relief, unsure if this moment of joy is worth the emotional rollercoaster that led them here.

Questionable bonding experiences. "To get a better feel of your characters' emotional depth," Armand leads the class on bizarre excursions—abandoned asylums, the red-light district, or a graveyard at midnight. If anyone dares question the appropriateness of this, he dramatically sighs and mutters, "Art is not safe."

Once, they crashed a stranger’s funeral. All in the name of "studying grief and despair." Imagine mourning your beloved grandmother, only to see a group of teenagers with notepads, hovering over the casket and asking intrusive questions like, "How does this make you feel? On a scale of 1 to 10, how raw is the emotion?"

They were, unsurprisingly, kicked out. One attendee threatened to call the police, but Armand was prepared. As soon as the word “police” left their lips, one of the students screamed “SCATTER!” and the entire group fled the scene in an unholy frenzy, leaving the wake with half as many guests as before. They still talk about it as "the performance of a lifetime."

Afterward, they reconvened at a shabby diner to process the experience. Milkshakes and waffles were consumed in abundance (paid for by Armand, naturally, as “rewards” for their "artistic dedication"). The group debated whether true grief could ever truly be captured without disturbing the family, concluding only that they had to do it again, but next time, at a wedding.

Never mind the rough start the theatre group might’ve had at the beginning of the semester. By the end, they are all trauma bonded and have an undeniable soft spot for Armand. He pretends that he’s not affected by this at all because that’s just theatre, but you can still sense it from him. When he’s dressed in all black during the last school assembly of the year and hides his eyes behind sunglasses, you just know that he cares just as much.

A while ago I made this post called Daniel Molloy, marriage councillor from hell, and I had so much fun writing it that I had to do a sequel.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * JARED CAMERON HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

dating jared cameron would include…

jared being completely smitten from the second he realizes you’re his imprint.

like, full-on golden retriever energy.

he tries to play it cool at first, but it lasts maybe five minutes before he’s showing up everywhere you go, smiling like you hung the stars.

the pack teasing him constantly because he turns into this soft, dreamy version of himself whenever you’re around.

embry makes gagging noises, paul pretends to swoon, and sam gives him the look when he skips patrol to walk you home (again).

he gets so protective — not in a controlling way, just in a deeply instinctive “that’s my person and i’ll rip apart anything that hurts them” kind of way.

even before you’re officially together, his eyes track you anytime you’re nearby.

so much touching.

jared is obsessed with physical affection. he always has a hand on your back, slinging an arm around your shoulders, or holding your hand in his ridiculously warm grip. he gets grumpy if he can’t be near you.

you teasing him about being your personal space heater in the winter. he just grins and pulls you closer.

“you’re not cold anymore, are you?”

“no, but i can’t feel my ribs now.”

“that’s love, babe.”

jared trying to be patient when you’re upset, even though his wolf side hates seeing you cry.

he paces the room, fists clenched, practically vibrating with frustration — not at you, but at the fact that you’re hurting and he can’t fix it fast enough.

him picking you up like it’s nothing. literally throws you over his shoulder just to make you laugh. or carries you when you’re tired, injured, or just because he wants to.

“why are you carrying me?”

“because i like holding you. duh.”

worshipping you when you’re insecure. jared doesn’t just say you’re beautiful — he means it in that intense, imprinting way that makes your knees weak.

“i wish you could see what i see when i look at you. you’d never doubt yourself again.”

late night drives where he takes you out to the cliffs just to talk and be alone. he lets you play whatever music you want.

you end up in his lap in the front seat, pressed against his chest while he traces lazy circles on your back.

him being loyal to a fault. he’s all in, heart and soul.

if anyone even looks at you the wrong way, jared’s already glaring from across the room.

“they weren’t even flirting, jared.”

“they breathed too close to you. i saw it.”

inside jokes whispered during pack meetings. you bite your lip trying not to laugh while sam glares at both of you.

him talking about the future like it’s a given. not in a pushy way, just casually weaving you into every plan.

“when we get our own place…”

“someday, when you’re my wife…”

“our kids are gonna have the best damn genes.”

and at the end of the day, jared would be the kind of boyfriend who makes everything feel safe.

no matter how bad your day was, coming home to his arms would make you feel like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

jared always noticing the small things.

if you change your shampoo, he smells it instantly. if you’re slightly off emotionally, he’s right there, gently tugging you aside like,

“talk to me. don’t shut me out.”

he feels your shifts before you do sometimes.

him being so vocal about how much he loves you. not just big declarations — it’s the soft, daily stuff.

“you look beautiful today.”

“you’re my favorite person in the whole damn world.”

“i didn’t think i could be this happy until you.”

him sneaking kisses in public.

he’s not shy about pda at all.

quick kisses to your temple when you walk past. leaning over just to kiss your cheek while you talk to someone. wrapping his arms around you from behind at bonfires.

you wearing his clothes all the time. and he loves it. you in his hoodie? heaven. you sleeping in his t-shirt? he’s gone.

“keep it. looks better on you anyway.”

getting mad at jared is hard.

mostly because he gives you those puppy eyes and soft apologies the second he realizes you’re upset.

“i didn’t mean to upset you. can we talk about it? please?”

but if you’re mad and silent? jared spirals a little.

the imprint makes your distance feel physically painful, so he’ll follow you around like a kicked puppy, trying to fix it — making you tea, writing you a note, asking over and over if you’re okay yet.

being the only one who can calm him down during a phase or shift.

when he’s shaking with rage, seconds from phasing, all it takes is your voice, your hand on his chest, your whisper of “i’m right here.”

the pack watching in awe the first time you talk jared down when he’s about to lose it. sam looks impressed. paul looks offended.

“it takes a damn army to hold jared back and she does it with one look?”

your scent grounding him.

after a rough day or long patrol, he buries his face in your neck, breathing you in like it resets his whole nervous system.

you run your fingers through his hair and he melts instantly.

falling asleep on his chest. it’s warm, solid, safe. his heartbeat lulls you to sleep.

sometimes you mumble things in your sleep and jared pretends not to hear — but he remembers every word.

especially the time you whispered, “i love you, jared.” before you were ready to say it out loud.

he never brought it up, but he smiled for three days straight.

him talking about you to the elders like you’re sacred. the imprint makes it spiritual for him.

you’re not just his girlfriend. you’re his anchor. his home. his reason.

+ angsty headcanon:

the one time you tried to break up with him —maybe because you didn’t think you were good enough for him, or felt overwhelmed— jared shattered.

his voice broke. his hands trembled.

“you don’t get it, do you? you’re it for me. there’s no backup plan. there’s no one else. you walk away, and i lose everything.”

he’s not perfect —jared can be stubborn, a little possessive, and way too confident sometimes— but he loves you with a depth that could break worlds.

he’s a wolf with your name etched into his bones.

[usagi-chwan]

Feel tired all of a sudden? (BSD x Reader)

🌸 Characters present in this chapter: Kunikida, Oda, Chuuya and Yumeno (quite platonically for the latter; I gendered him male, by the way!)

🌸 Spoils: in principle, none there either. Knowing who the characters are is enough to be able to read their parts.

And here is a request from AO3 ; they asked me to imagine how certain BSD characters interact with the reader when they are asleep. Here it is!

I wish you all an excellent reading moment <3

Kunikida

- He would like to be able to keep his good resolutions about going to bed early, in order to respect his ideal number of hours of sleep...

- The problem is that, because of a certain person who does absolutely nothing all day, Kunikida finds himself obliged to encroach on his rest time, in order to finish the work of the other imbecile, who is definitely looking to be strangled alive.

- So, Kunikida comes to bed late, leaving you to fall asleep alone, much to his regret. But as soon as he goes to bed, preferably lying on his back, you systematically snuggle up to him, still sound asleep.

- This is undoubtedly the best experience of his exhausting day, and the one that lets the pressure off at once; seeing you asleep and snuggled up against his side brings a soft, affectionate smile to his face, making him momentarily forget all the worries that would certainly have prevented him from getting a wink of sleep.

- He soon falls asleep too, still lying on his back with you against him, his arm around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible.

- But who exactly would want to leave, with such an outpouring of love?

~

Oda

- He usually takes a little longer than you to fall asleep, so he has plenty of time to admire you resting peacefully, making him forget the events of his day too.

- He is definitely the type to hug you, often with your legs crossed, from the moment he falls asleep until he wakes up.

- While he is waiting for sleep, he sometimes asks himself pointless questions, such as whether he really has the right to hold you like that, despite all the blood on his hands... The answer is YES, of course, but I am sure you had it too.

- Since you normally wake up before he does, this time it is your turn to watch him sleep, with a relaxed, serene expression.

- The hardest part of all... Not only getting up and leaving the familiar, soothing warmth of your boyfriend... But also, and above all, getting out of his arms.

- An escape game, clearly.

~

Chuuya

- He is a fan of working overtime, although since you have been a couple he has done his best to keep it to a minimum.

- He sometimes comes home when you are already asleep; in this situation, he is content to lie down beside you and give you a hug.

- But, even if just being with you is a source of boundless joy for him, he prefers, on the contrary, that you be the one to hold him in your arms, on days when he comes home at convenient times from work, and you can go to bed at the same time.

- That is right; our little Chuuya loves to be cuddled by his favorite person, with whom he gladly puts his pride aside.

- He loves to bury his nose in your neck, breathing in your perfume as he pleases, and he cannot help but think that this scent reminds him of something sweet and familiar, dear to his heart: that of a home.

- And, if he can afford a little extra... If you could simply stroke his hair until he falls asleep...?

- In such cases... He simply says to himself that, if heaven exists, it certainly looks like this.

~

Yumeno

- Since you adopted him, things have been complicated, to say the least.

- Because of his past, living with other people was something he simply did not know; even with you, it did not happen right away. Getting used to your presence around him was somewhat difficult for Yumeno, but your patience and benevolence were crucial in getting him attached to you, and in making him understand that certain things were reprehensible in his behavior (driving people mad, for example...).

- But you cannot let go of your past so easily, and especially not completely. Sometimes, he finds himself assailed by bad memories, and this happens especially at night, when he is asleep in his bed, in his new room. And even the presence of his favorite doll, which he never lets go of, is not enough to calm his fears.

- He thinks back to your words, assuring him that he could come to you if he needed anything.

- And so he does for the first time, that night, hesitating, feeling remorse at the idea of waking you up; since you took him in, he has indeed learned to feel human feelings, so to speak, which you think is excellent news.

- He pats your arm to wake you up, then asks you in a tiny voice if he can sleep with you, just for tonight. Despite the fact that you are still half-asleep, you can easily see the fear in his eyes, and the tears threatening to escape.

- Of course, you accept, and you hold him in your arms, whispering reassuring words, lulling him gently into a deep, nightmare-free sleep. And he, for his part, can only take full advantage of this new opportunity he has been given.

- For, from now on, all he has to do is simple: be happy.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Jamie had gone in ready to land a punch—not even a good one, just something to relieve the pressure in his chest. But instead of the satisfying impact he’d wanted, he got… arms.

Eddie’s arms, strong and warm, looping around him and pulling him in close. His breath was right against Jamie’s ear, the words hitting harder than any swing could’ve.

“Easy, mate… I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing…”

Jamie didn’t want to believe him. He really didn’t. He liked blaming Eddie sometimes—it made everything simpler. It was easier to get mad than to admit that maybe what was bubbling inside of him had nothing to do with the bar fight, and everything to do with the fact that this man, this walking disaster, made him feel far too much.

But Eddie’s voice was serious. Steady. And Jamie could feel how solid he was, how there he was, how he hadn’t let him go—not even when he thrashed a bit in his grip like a drunken, angry octopus.

And then he stilled.

It was like something inside him gave up, gave in. His limbs went heavy, and he sagged against Eddie, letting himself be held. It felt safe, in a way he hated admitting even to himself. His eyes fluttered closed for a second.

He hiccuped.

“…Bastard,” Jamie muttered, the insult weak and barely formed, lips brushing the edge of Eddie’s shoulder as he leaned into him. “Must you ruin things by being right.” Jamie wriggled weakly, but he was already fading, the fight leaking from him as quickly as the strength in his limbs. And yet—

God, those arms. They were strong. Steady. Unrelenting. Jamie hadn’t expected that.

But—

He liked it.

Too much.

Way more than he should’ve, especially in the middle of a bar fight, in the arms of the man he was sure he wanted to punch not thirty seconds ago. His heart kicked against his ribs like a warning, but his cheek found Eddie’s collarbone, and for one dizzy moment, Jamie felt safe.

Not just physically. Safe. Protected, wanted even..

Like those arms could hold the entire world back.

It confused him. It scared him, the way he stilled so easily.

His voice came out in a hiccup, then a slur. “You’re… warm…”

They moved. Jamie wasn’t sure when, exactly—time had started sloshing around like everything else in his gut. He let himself be dragged through the chaos, bodies bumping into them, the scent of spilt beer and sweat and cheap cologne following them out into the night air.

The air was cold. Sharp and clear and not at all like the sticky warmth of the bar. It hit Jamie like a wave, sobering him just enough to feel the deep ache in his feet and the spinning in his head.

Eddie’s voice broke through the fog again, teasing and indignant as he all but pressed his head against the mans shoulder as they moved. “You owe me an apology, asshole… what’s with you and wanting to punch me, eh?”

Jamie didn’t answer.

He was too busy staring—dazed, confused at well-- himself. For the second time in his life ( the first time being being cut in two), he had nothing to say.

Then Eddie grabbed his face—hands rough, but grounding—and everything stilled.“ Hey. Focus, mate. It’s just you and me. Where’s home, huh? I need your help here. Let me get you home, alright? Least I can do for trying to kill you.”

Jamie squinted up at him, lips twitching into something faintly amused. “Your face just asks for it,” he slurred, his attempt at a smirk collapsing into another hiccup. “It’s got one of those expressions that says ‘please, sir, hit me again.’” His brows furrowed, not in anger this time, but in sheer emotional overload.

He hiccupped again.

And then—softly, faintly “…You smell like cheap soap and worse decisions,” he muttered, voice quiet and thick. “But I’m not mad anymore.” His words slurred together as he whispered, “Don’t really think I …ever really.. was.”

He paused, eyes fluttering shut for a second, yes it was dangerous to invite a criminal killer like Eddie to your secret flat, but he was not exactly thinking logically at the moment. “My flat's… two blocks that way,” he murmured, nodding vaguely left. “Up the stairs… with the red door.” His voice was barely audible now, more like a confession than instructions. "Right then.. this way" he nudges.

Eddie’s brows furrowed in confusion at Jamie’s anger. He didn’t understand why he was the one being attacked. Sure, maybe he was quite often the cause of chaos, but not this time! Or at least that was never his intention. Things got out of hand super quickly before he could do anything to stop it, and his main concern was getting himself and Jamie out of there before the cops arrived, as he had no doubt that the bar owner would be right on the phone asap.

“Jamie, what—?!” He began, blinking as if the Brit had been speaking an entirely different language. Though given his drunken state, that wasn’t exactly too far off. His eyes widened as he saw Jamie about to punch him - again - and this time he acted. He wasn’t quite as drunk as the other. He still had some of his wits about him, and so he easily dodged the sluggish punch and wrapped an arm tightly around Jamie, speaking right by his ear.

“Easy, mate! Easy. For once I actually didn’t do a fuckin’ thing. I was pushed into a drunk bastard who then started this whole fight, alright? Why in the hell would I wanna cause this when we were having a nice heart to heart, eh? I’m trying to lay low remember.” He said, his torn stern. Serious. He wasn’t lying, wasn’t trying to mess with Jamie. He just wanted him to understand. “The whole thing is a misunderstanding slap bang in the middle of a room full of drunks, mate. It’s a bar brawl, nothing more.”

Clearly the more sober of the two, Eddie took on the responsibility of getting them the hell out of there. It wouldn’t take long for the grump of a bar owner to call the police, and he definitely didn’t want to be around for that. The moment there was a gap in the middle of the bar, the Aussie moved. “C’mon, mate. Give me a hand. We’re getting out of here.” He said, his hold firm and tight around Jamie as he dragged and led him through the crowd. Folks bumped into them, knocked them around, but they were ignored. The drunks were far more focused on their other targets. They were just in the way.

Eventually they made it to the exit of the bar and Eddie continued to lead them down the road. At the moment he didn’t care where they went, just that they were as far away from the place as possible before police arrived. “Y’know, you owe me an apology, asshole. Blaming me for that and trying to punch me again. What’s with you and wanting to punch me, eh? Ain’t done enough damage to my handsome face already?” He asked, the fresh cool air hitting them as they staggered down the street to safety.

Eddie then stopped after leading them a few blocks away. Only then did he let Jamie go. He glanced around, not really knowing the area all too well, but enough to get back to his place if need be. “How far is your place from here?” He asked, gaze on Jamie. “My place is back in the direction we just came from, so it’s a no go for now.” At least they were out of danger for the moment, though Jamie was in no condition to walk into another bar and Eddie wasn’t far off either. They needed to get somewhere to lay low and sober up for a while.

“Hey.” Eddie gripped Jamie’s shoulders and shook him slightly, hands then moving to grab either side of his head, blue eyes staring into green. “Focus, mate. It’s just you and me. Where’s home, huh? I need your help here. Let me get you home, alright? Least I can do for trying to kill you.” He gently teased with a soft chuckle.

[1800duckhotline]

i feel like most horror fans can't go 5 minutes without being ableist in some fashion its so god damn hard to interact with people who like this genre too

it is maddening honestly like i think the horror of the lack of power that can come with disability is very real especially in our current society. it can be a good thing to talk about in a horror story. but god damn, like, referring to scarring and injuries and in general differences one can sustain irl as "Body horror" feels so detached from reality. i think so many people dont even stop to realize that it can be so dehumanizing to the disabled person affected, or people, lol. it's been definitely normalized to a very scary amount to regard realistic differences (especially in faces and heads) as body horror

and im not even referring to purposefully unrealistic exaggeration like idk, m/ndela catalogue's, bc that reaches a point where it's "fantastical" enough or cartoony to be like yeah ok, this is body horror because it goes beyond what human limits are like. but burn victims, people who sustain injuries from acid, and in general people with different facial conformations which can be results of genetics or illnesses are not body horror and require as much respect/awareness as your average person. like i would imagine it feels othering

tho i speak from the pov of someone who's been living with a disabled person for years now, and while i dont have that specific kind of situation myself, i've become more sensitive to this stuff lol anyways youre right anon. sorry for the ramble. but its unfortunately true.

in the specific topic of m/uthw/shing, taking aside what i think of curly's personality and attitude pre-crash, post-crash he is disabled... and part of the point of the game is how this condition of his is taken advantage of while he cannot do anything himself as an amputee because he is, realistically, still suffering his injuries!! jimmy being a dick is part of the point but with this & other topics ill reserve myself from rambling about it feels like people are just not understanding the story at all!! like, the least you could do is not dehumanize curly (and fairly enough most people ive seen don't do this, but it takes me so little for me to be pissed off lately. this is why i try to not tag my posts so people dont see them). bare minimum. the bar is in hell dude