#they truly cared about what they were making

[bokutosbabe]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[tgcg]

hey guys. this is smth i have been thinking abt doing for a while but tonight i decided 4reel. i'm gonna put the blog on a kinda indefinite hiatus.

things have rlly changed for me & my life, & i need other things to change as well. i dont wanna divulge like... all my shit ere. but i just wanna say thanx to everyone who ever left a reply, kind message, fun ask, even just a like.

the kind of reception this blog got was totally beyond anything i coulda expected. i am still rly floored by it, u guys kindness & generosity. i'm rlly glad i could entertain you all and do right by these 2 guys.

i had so much fun here. making scripts & drawing them out. it's smth i have truly never experienced before & doubt i ever will anywhere else except this here blog. that was truly down to you guys & your enthusiasm and it'll never leave me. like, shit, getting dubs of my comix? fucking insane.

dk has been rly important to me for a rly long time. i became a fan of it over a decade ago. ive talked on da blog before about why i like em so much... so i'll just say here that i also don't rlly think these guys will ever leave me either. i think they were kinda a permanent mark on my development as a person. u can put me so so far away from hs & i'd still express that fondness for em deep down. they're a rlly great duo & i can't say at all that this decision is due to a lack of interest. love u dk <3.

for now i'm just gonna leave the blog as is, but in the future it may become p-word protected, who know... i'm not a fan of creating lost media since archiving obscure shit is a hobby of mine, so... we will "C"...

i'll still be hovering around over at @cgtg. i rlly like doing pwyw requests over there so i can flex my mspaint muscles and give u guys fun stuff. currently those are closed, but yea if ur interested you can drop a follow there & i'll say when they're open. no pressure to run over there tho. i understand that plenty were here for the dk's and i get that.

i might not be leaving this blog alone for good, & i think that's worth stating. who knows what will happen in da future? we're here right now & i'm very glad to have been here *until* now.

pls always have fun, do what you want forever, be kind, & take care. remember above all that youtube is where the poop is.

thanks for hanging out with me. love u all.

-randy tgcg 🙂

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Oberservations - 41 🦃

Aquarius placements look really good in circle frame glasses.

Aries moon women I notice are single most of their life or don’t really date until later in life. They are very emotionally independent which can intimidate men into getting serious with them.

On the other hand libra moons usually maintain healthy long term relationships. They usually have no issue finding a partner & a lot of people have crushes on them!

Neptune in the 1st house can give the native eyes that people can’t tell what color they are. They truly have the most beautiful eyes of the zodiac.

Gemini placements are way more sexual than Scorpios. They can detach from sex easily so it’s easy and stimulating for them to hook up a lot. I notice a lot of pronstars and sex workers have heavy Gemini placements. Scorpios are sexual but I feel most prefer emotional intimacy before giving up their bodies.

Saturn in the 7th house people I’ve seen tend to look more like their grandmas than their parents. Their grandmothers also could’ve impacted them a lot growing up and were usually the closest to their grandmas.

Capricorn risings tend to have very fast metabolisms. They can eat a lot and barely gain any weight. (Very blessed imo) I also notice that their hands and feet are always FREEZING 24/7. Their body temperature in general is normally very low, they get cold very easily.

Venus in Pisces normally have really nice full lips (especially in the 1st house)

Libra suns are usually the prettiest in the room always.

Pisces moons just ghost people randomly. They will just stop reaching out of nowhere then will hyu months later and you find out they moved halfway across the world and are expecting a kid lmao. They do this to friends and family. Can be really secretive about their lives and what’s going on in them.

Taurus sun/moon women look amazing without makeup and they usually prefer a bare face over makeups. If they do wear makeup it’s usually very natural looking most I notice aren’t into heavy makeup looks.

Moon in libra/leo/pisces have a hard time being single

Moon in aries/capricorn/aquarius usually find it more comfortable to be single over having a partner.

Mars in Leos care a lot about their reputation and always want to come off as successful or the best. They can have very big egos & can get really pissy when people say things that make them look bad or embarrass them in any way.

Taurus/Pisces mars tend to have issues with binge eating when stresssed or anxious.

Libra Venus women tend to play dumb a lot to seem more attractive to guys.

Cancer moon women are usually such girly girls💕 they are so ethereal

Libra mars people have amazing bodies (especially the women).

I hope everyone have a fun and safe thanksgiving yesterday! Happy late turkey day 🦃🤣♥️

[yourfatherlucifer]

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One

Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI

My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing

WC: 1.7k

AU: Mafia

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.

Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx

@hyukssunflower @witchbxtch0701 If I cannot tag you, please fix your settings.

Tag list link

“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.

“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”

Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.

This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.

Whatever, his ass can forget it.

Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.

Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.

The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”

Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.

Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.

The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.

After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.

She needs it.

About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.

It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.

With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.

Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.

A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”

Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”

“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.

Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”

This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.

“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”

Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.

Time flew by quickly.

The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.

Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.

A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.

She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”

Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.

She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.

Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.

The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”

“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.

This guy was the boss?

“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.

“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.

“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”

She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.

Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”

Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.

“Fine.”

“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.

When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”

Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?

“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.

She didn’t blame them.

Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.

They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.

“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.

They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.

Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.

The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.

Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”

Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.

“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.

Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.

Ever.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |12|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killing, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 2.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Tara ran off almost instantly after Mindy said the shrine would be the killers lair, then pointed out this wasn’t a normal Stab movie. Sam moved to go after her sister, despite trying to play everything as normal and as if the attack last year changed nothing, she knew Tara was struggling. Kirby waved her off though and said she’d check on Tara herself. Sam frowned but she knew it was probably better if Kirby went, she had been through this before and every time Sam tried to talk to Tara it almost always ended in an argument.

Sam turned back to the display case that contained the cloak of Billy Loomis. Her eyes trailed from the white mask down to the blood knife at the bottom. So, many lives were ruined just by Billy putting on a stupid costume. She wasn’t sure who could possibly be after them this time, though she didn’t expect her boyfriend to be the bad guy last time either. Whoever was coming after them did their research though, they had everything from each of the Ghostface attacks, going back all the way to the very beginning. She noticed there was even a small display about Sidney’s mom, the murder that started it all.

Sam didn’t know how to protect everyone. Two random kids were killed, which Sam couldn’t care too much about because they were apparently planning to kill her and her sister, but then she was attacked at the gym, she only survived because of you. Since then, the attack at the bodega and then the attack at the apartment, everyone had only survived because of you. She didn’t know where they’d be without you, who else would be dead. She knew she still had to be cautious around you, but you were proving more and more that you were trustworthy and nothing like Richie.

The floor creaked behind her, and she froze. She slowly lifted her head to see you through the glass, standing behind her. You hadn’t said a word, you hadn’t pressed her for answers too hard, answers you rightly deserved. She owed you an explanation about everything, who she was and why this was all happening. You knew who she was, but Sam owed it to you to tell you everything from her own mouth.

“Are you okay?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sam turned around and saw you looking at her with nothing but concern. She wasn’t sure how you could see all of this, see this mess that went all the way back to her birth father and not flinch. There was still no judgement in your eyes, you were looking at Sam with the same kindness you always had. Your first question since seeing all this wasn’t to demand an explanation or ask who any of these people were, you just asked if she was okay, you truly were too good for her.

“Why are you still here?” Sam asked as she spun around. “You’ve been cut and stabbed,” she gestured at you. “Shot at, almost died three times all for some stranger who goes to your gym.” She shrugged, you might have been too good for her, but you also seemed to be crazy.

You only smiled at her words, making her furrow her brow. Maybe you really were her type, you were definitely crazy. “I assure you; this is nothing compared to what I’ve been through,” you said. “And you’re not just some girl from my gym anymore, I think I know you well enough to not want you to get murdered.”

Sam shook her head. You were military, special forces at that, you had definitely seen some things. With the way you handled yourself, first with the knife, then the gun, and then even in the apartment you used your surroundings to your advantage, nearly choking Ghostface out with a curtain. You could more than handle yourself, Sam could only imagine what you would do with the right equipment and an actual plan instead of getting caught off guard. But this wasn’t some war zone, you were at home, you shouldn’t be fighting for your life like this.

“You don’t know me,” Sam mumbled. “Not really, but if you insist on sticking around you should probably know what you’re getting into.” Sam walked across the stage and took a seat, letting her legs hang off the edge. You slightly followed after her, taking a seat right next to her but leaving enough space so the two of you weren’t touching.

Sam stared across the theater, Ethan was walking around, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked around, Bailey stared at a few of the displays, furrowing his brow at the sight of some things. She looked to the side to see Gale staring longingly at one of the displays, Sam could only assume it had something to do with Dewey. Then there was Mindy, crouched down as she tried to comfort Anika off to the far end, with Chad standing a couple feet away, his arms crossed as his own eyes scanned over the group.

Sam clenched her hands into fists. She had heard a bunch of crap about her life and her family ever since that world learned the truth. She had known the truth since she was a teenager, she had spoken the words more than once. For some reason just opening her mouth to tell you seemed impossible. You could go online right now and find several articles talking about what she was about to tell you, saying the words out loud shouldn’t be a big deal.

“Whatever you say,” you said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “I promise you; it won’t change anything.”

Sam glanced at you and saw nothing but patience and understanding in your eyes. No one could really say nothing would change until they knew whatever it was, but you truly believed what you were saying. Sam knew she shouldn’t doubt you, you knew the rumors, you knew the basics, and you still stuck around. Everyone who learned the truth though ran and when they didn’t run it was usually because they had an ulterior motive, or they betrayed her.

“When I was younger, I learned my father wasn’t who I thought he was,” Sam let out a shaky breath as she got started. “My real father is Billy Loomis.” She could hear you suck in a breath at the name. “He’s the one who inspired all this,” she gestured around the room. “A year ago, my sister was attacked, by her best friend.” Sam shook her head, there were times she still couldn’t believe last year happened. Amber had never liked her growing up, but she always just figured Amber was an angry kid, she never imagined the girl would be a serial killer.

“Turns out it was all a ploy to lure me back home,” Sam let out humorless chuckle. “My now ex,” she wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t believe she had fallen for Richie, he had been so sweet and charming, that should have been the first indicator that something was wrong with him. “Set it up. He manipulated me, pretended to love me, then he tried to kill me,” she shook her head. “Oh, and he was apparently cheating on me the whole time with Amber.”

“Your ex, that was-”

“Richie,” Sam cut you off. “He tracked me down, became my co-worker, then friend, and then…”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“And it was all to make a stupid movie,” she scoffed. “He’s dead. I made sure of that. So, is Amber.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow, after everything she just said she wasn’t expecting another, I’m sorry’. “He might have been an asshole and a psychopath.” Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at your bluntness. “But whatever you felt for him was real, that doesn’t just automatically end because of what he did. It’s okay to be hurt or even feel bad about it.”

Sam nodded, no one had ever told her that before, well her therapist did but she dismissed it at the time. “But I don’t feel bad,” Sam whispered. “I don’t feel bad one bit,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle. “It felt good to kill him after what he did to me.”

Sam rested her head in her hand as she looked at you. You were looking down at the ground with your eyebrow scrunched up in concentration. “Someone started rumors about me online,” Sam said, making you look up, your brow still scrunched together. “Saying I set the whole thing up last year, that I killed my boyfriend, and he was actually the hero.” Sam shook her head, despite Sidney being there, despite all the police statements, the world seemed to believe some random reddit user over the facts.

“The world sees me as just another killer,” Sam shrugged. “Just like my father.” Sam ran a hand through her hair. “Now you know what a mess my life is,” she scoffed. “Why it would be a terrible idea to get involved with me.”

She thought back to the kiss the two of you shared just the other day. She had stopped it; she said she couldn’t. She told herself it was because she couldn’t fully trust you, she didn’t want to risk getting involved with someone else. The truth was she didn’t want to bring someone into her life, it was such a mess, she didn’t want someone else having to deal with the looks and the comments. You certainly didn’t deserve to be with someone like that, you were too good for all that, you deserved to have someone normal, someone who wouldn’t potentially get you stabbed every other day.

You had been silent most of the time and when Sam looked at you, she saw you nodding along. “Your life is a mess,” you finally said. Sam couldn’t help but smile, you were still as blunt as ever, she found she kind of liked that about you.

“About a year ago I was shot,” you said, your voice becoming distant as if you were going back to the memory. Sam furrowed her brow, she had seen the scars all over your body, she knew you had been shot before, she never imagined one of those injuries was so recent though. “Centimeters from my heart.” You kept touching a spot over your heart, Sam could only assume it was where you were shot. “It’s why I’m in town.”

“But you seem fine,” Sam said. Kirby said it was odd you were in town for longer than usual, that you were stationed in North Carolina. Kirby also said you were still active duty, if you had been injured enough to be discharged then that would be one thing but if you were healed and still active duty it didn’t make sense for you to be home for so long.

“Physically I am,” you rasped out. You were looking across the theater, but it was clear your mind was somewhere else. “But up here,” you tapped your head. “Haven’t been cleared,” you clenched your jaw.

“You seem pretty sane to me,” Sam offered. You were the most stable person she had met, which maybe she wasn’t the best judge in that department knowing her track record.

You huffed out a laugh at that. “Well, not according to my therapist. She won’t clear me until I talk about what happened.” Sam thought back to when you had told her you had a therapy appointment, you had said it was mandatory, that meant you were ordered to see your therapist, it wasn’t something you willingly went to like she did.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” If you had been seeing your therapist this long and it still didn’t seem like you were any closer to getting clear that meant you probably hadn’t talked about whatever it was yet. Sam might have been comfortable seeing a therapist and wanted to talk about her issues, but she knew that wasn’t the case for everyone, her sister in particular refused to see a therapist or talk about what happened in any meaningful way.

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s been long enough.” Sam remained silent as she nodded, she would give you as much time as you needed. “We had been deployed for a few months, it was supposed to just be a peacekeeping mission,” you shook your head. “Had done plenty of them before, meant to help build relations, and make connections. But then…”

You blinked away tears that had begun to fill your eyes, but you never let them fall. “A local militia attacked, we were caught off guard, we’re meant to always be prepared but it had been months without incident,” you continued. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice as unwavering as possible. “My whole team was killed, my brothers,” you buried your head in your hands.

Sam sucked in a breath; out of everything she was expecting you to say it certainly wasn’t that. She couldn’t imagine the guilt you must be living with being the only survivor of something like that. The only reason she was as okay as she was was because of her sister and Chad and Mindy, without them she couldn’t imagine what she’d be like. They might not have liked to talk about what happened, but they relied on each other, they leaned on each other when one was struggling, and they celebrated together when something good happened.

“I was meant to die that day,” you whispered. “I should have,” you shook your head. You pressed your palm against your eyes before finally lifting your head again. “Somehow the bullet missed my heart, and the rescue team got to me just before I bled out.”

Sam opened and closed her mouth a few times. She wasn’t even sure where to begin with something like this, she was pretty sure there was nothing she could say to comfort you.

“See?” you said, giving her a tired smile. “I got just as much baggage as you.” Sam gave you a sad smile. “But I promise you, I’m much more screwed up, you don’t want any of this,” you gestured at yourself. “Coming into your life. Trust me,” you whispered. “It’s you who’s better off not getting involved with me.”

Sam opened and closed her hand. She wanted nothing more than to reach for you, to try and comfort you. She didn’t believe you; she was definitely not better off without you. You didn’t deserve anything that had happened to you, you weren’t to blame for your team dying. Ever since Sam had met you, all you had done was prove how good you were, you protected her, you joined the group to help protect everyone when you didn’t even know them. You told her your story as if you were warning her to stay away but it only proved to her that you truly were one of the good ones.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ aftercare | billie eilish

warnings: fluffy, bubble bath lots of lots of personal attention.

summary: she wants to be with you for all time, and she would made sure that you knew that.

"it´s okay, it´s okay." billie said holding your tired body beside hers, caressing your hair with her fingers. "you did so good for me, baby, such a perfect girl." she kissed your forehead gently, letting you rest after breaking you. your head now laying on her chest, breathing deeply. "can i get up to prepare your bubble bath, angel?" your gaze was now in her eyes, looking up at her. "of course, bills, js' dont take too long.. okay?" you said in a soft tone, almost whispering.

she just kissed your forehead one more time and got up going towards your bathroom, she could see that you were too tired to even speak properly. billie was the kind of person who could treat you like a princess after playing a role of degrading you. the only moment she was being true was when she told you how much you mean to her, you were the only comfort she had in life. her life as a famous singer was a complete rush, and you had always been the peace she had on her life.

billie saw everything in your eyes, everything she needs to see. the only thing she always wanted for sure, was to have you with her until the end of time. her life was full of doubts, and she loved that with you, there's not even a single doubt. she was yours, and she was so fucking glad that a sweet person like you was hers too.

"babe? all ready here, u okay?" she spoke, coming towards you as you got up to sit on the bed. "yes.. all okay, js' thinking about you." you said with a soft smile. she sat beside you, staring at you as she took a strand of your hair and put it behind your ear. "what kind of thoughts?" she replied, with no malice. billie was staring at you, admiring you like you were a work of art. "the kind of thoughts that make me wanna kneel down the floor and ask you to be my wife." you said it all softly, you truly meant it, and she knew. she smiled, getting closer to you, and finally, kissing you.

it was all slow, billie kissed you in a soft way, it almost seemed like you were a doll and she was so scared to even scratch you. her tongue dancing with yours, her hand going down to your waist, but with almost no pressure there. your breath starting to get shorter, as you two didn´t want to be even a centimeter far from each other. eventually, it ended. her blue eyes now staring at you with all the love she has. "i love you so fucking much." she spoke, trying to hold a smile of coming out. "i love you even more." you replied as she chuckle. "thats impossible, angel. let me help you go to the bathroom now, okay?" you just noded your head, as billie took your body in her arms, carrying you to the bathtub. and putting you on the ground in the front of it.

you quickly entered, sitting on the warm water. "waiting for u" you said as billie was taking off the only clothes she had left on her body. "anxious are we?" she giggled, entering and sitting behind you. both of her arms wrapping your sides and trapping you close to her. "ugh, i wish i could spend all my life here with you." you giggled, carresing her arm. "in a bubble bath after sex?" she giggled "all i want in life is to hold you tight and take care of you, the place doesnt matter." she said almost explaining herself to you.

"i love you in a way that words wouldn´t be enough to describe." you said, opening your heart.

"then show me, i want stay like this with you for my whole life, i want you to be my wife."

taglist: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @iluvapplesxh @hkkuugu @bilsdillldough @n0vabug @certifiedwomenlover @dollyvuu @cupidsvzq @dyinbymistake @hailwiggly

[kingedbishop]

Whatever joke Rook had planned to make was set aside as she eyed the two. She obviously saw nothing wrong with hanging out with alternative versions of herself. It was kind of like meeting a distant cousin, expect they were unlikely to disappoint like most relatives do. Even Bishop had little to complain about his. They both acted the way one would expect from the likes of him.

Really, it was his fault for being an asshole. She glanced at the agent, then turned to Nines. It didn't seem like a smart idea to make android cops, but that world didn't exactly shine for its bright ideas.

"Oh, you have it so easy around here." Willow scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Those engrams have a tendency to destabilize. I'd prefer to resolve any compatibility issues myself. Whatever funding you may need, consider it covered. Again, feel free not to question the source. Not every corner of the world is as content with the existence of digital beings, it'd save me some extra work."

"You should consider moving here." Bishop suggested, a faint grin on his face. He found the concept of adopting androids amusing. Some people truly went through great lengths to find humanity in everything.

Not that he cared to understand it when he hardly contemplated showing basic decency towards the aliens he had captured.

"Having to share the planet with Kamski is miserable enough. I have no intention of moving any closer."

"What about your plans to murder him?"

"Please, do not quote me in the presence of the RK900."

"Oh, he really wants a katana up his ass." Rook mused, before turning to Peter, "I think it's cool that you've got brothers. What I don't get is why you're keeping the Bishop shaped one around."

Well, it was good to know they were going to meet even more androids by just being in Peter's immediate vicinity. At least so far only one seemed fine attacking strangers on sight, even though Bishop wasn't too keen on trusting Nines' either after the poor state he showed up in.

And knowing there was another nearly identical more deranged android around they hadn't met yet didn't please Bishop either. So he stood back with his arms crossed, keeping an eye out in case somebody else felt like joining them.

"It's funny, isn't it? You meet a whole new guy, but it's still you!" Rook said while giving Strasky an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "It looks like you guys have a thing for getting in trouble. But it's clear you're good at making friends too."

"Rook is something of an expert on the topic. However, we have more pressing matters to tend to." Willow chimed in, "To answer your question, it will indeed be custom work, but fortunately time isn't a concern."

"Yeah. We just want to know if you can put a construct into an android so they won't be stuck being formless entities anymore." Rook said with a shrug, "Those guys could really use having bodies again."

"You would be paid accordingly, both for the work itself and for the risk of taking part in such a project." A possibly illegal one, though Willow simply glanced at Dan instead of mentioning it out loud, "And we'd be thankful if none of this was mentioned to the authorities, or to Cyberlife, lest they start having more ideas they would come to regret later on."

[deathbxnny]

Hi I just wanted to say I loved the arcane adhd headcannons u wrote, the viktor one made me cry bc I want to be seen like that sooo bad. Do u think u could do some more characters? No pressure tho ur an amazing writer

Arcane characters with an S/o who has ADHD. | Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Aww, I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the last part, anon! I hope this is to your liking as well!<33

Content: Fluff, ADHD, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

She noticed from the start that you were a little different from everyone else. Not that she necessarily cared much about it. You were still you after all, and your diagnosis is just a part of you she considers endearing.

With that said, Caitlyn always listens to your needs very closely and does everything in her power to help you out with them. She'll get you anything you ask for in hopes of making life easier for you. Whether it's medical help or just something to help with your fidgeting in general, you'll have it in no time with her.

Cait can, therefore, come off as kind of overbearing or overprotective at first. She wants you to lead a smooth and successful life, so she'll always be around to make any task doable for you. Procrastination does not exist when she's there, to say the least.

Her patience is an important part of your relationship that's practically invaluable. Your fidgety and unfocused nature took a moment for her to get used to, but she never makes a big deal out of it. Instead, she simply adapts to your needs and learns to cherish them as well.

》JINX

Probably the most understanding out of everyone, albeit in the most chaotic way possible. You two are a rather troubling duo, as she herself isn't in the best position to help you out properly. Her ideas are always outlandish yet somehow still work out in the end anyways, which is rather impressive.

You're both very fidgety, but she makes up for it with her hyper awareness. Procrastination is never a thing with her, considering how focused she always is on every project she has and so it becomes somewhat of a normal thing for you to simply work in the same space together, even if it's with just music playing in the background in-between you two.

She's the last person to ever treat you any differently for your diagnosis and doesn't ever let you feel bad for it either. You accept her, and she accepts you. Anyone that tries shaming you for it is as good as dead anyway.

You two learn how to take care of each other better than anyone else ever could. Jinx may not be able to help you out like a professional doctor could, but she'll do anything to help you out no matter what forever.

》EKKO

He doesn't entirely get it at first, mainly as he was always surrounded by people who were rather unique in their own way. But as always with anything, he still does his best to learn everything he needs to about your diagnosis and how he can help you with the resources he has. Which aren't many, but his creativity truly shines at times when it comes to you.

You're not treated any differently from everyone else, and he sure as hell doesn't allow anyone to do that either. You are normal, just with more needs that he tends to carefully. So whether it's your inability to focus well or stay still for a long time, he'll find a way to make things easier. He understands your procrastination and doesn't really push you to do things unless it's very important. But he'll work with you on any projects or missions you may have.

His patience is endless for you and his kindness even more so. He understands if you feel frustrated sometimes and tries his best to soothe you when your emotions are a little harder to process. He'll let you fidget and be yourself as much as you want to, never the type to stop you. You should be yourself around him, and he appreciates how vulnerable you are with that.

Ekko loves you no matter how hard things can get with your diagnosis. He takes every challenge on with ease and never judges you for it either.

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Ghost and his marriage problems w/ you

part 1: Price | Masterlist here! | Inspo playlist here! Angst to comfort

Ghost is a man of few words, the comment of it being 'few and far between' used too often to describe him and his stand-off demeanor with you in public.

Though, he cares not for those things, only ever lending an ear for you only.

Yet you wished he did when manhandles a man that was only trying to talk to you about baked goods you were selling.

You slammed your front door closed after Simon went ahead inside and paced around the living room, before settling on a chair once he hears you stomp in.

"What the fuck was that Simon?"

You seethed, pissed off at how Simon was so quick to assume things, turning things to an eleven when it didn't to be-- making an issue at a situation you were very well handling yourself already.

"He got too close," he grunts with a shrug, "too suspicious for someone just 'asking' a question."

You rubbed your face roughly.

You think maybe he was emotionally and socially stunted but no, he was able to conduct himself just fine at his jobs and during missions-- what the fuck is he on right now?

"What kinda bullshit is that?" You scoffed at him and he huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees yet still making eye contact with you.

"You..." He starts but then breaks off, sighing and ruffling his hair.

Simon wanted to choose his words carefully. He couldn't say it was gut feeling that he gets when someone gets too close to hurt you.

As a soldier, he was trained to always be on his toes, and that type of behavior becomes hard to rub off when all he thinks of is protecting you whenever you guys go out.

He knows that no one knows how his face looks like out in public, but he is still scared-- haunted by the notion, or even the thought of you getting hurt as a means of revenge to get back at him.

He knows his records aren't clean and he isn't proud of some of the things he did either, but he knew it was worth it when the world could have its bits and pieces of peace from it-- especially if you were, and you still had that same gleaming smile whenever you greet him home.

So he tries to keep that all away, to keep the peace, and most importantly-- to keep you happy.

Even if that required him to be on guard 24/7, always wary of the things going on in your life and working double to make sure you were alright.

Even if it gets him the short end of the stick, getting the brunt of your anger.

"He..." he licks his dried out lips, "...he looked like he had ulterior motives, hun."

You stomp to him, hands grabbing his face as you stared down at him, eyes so pointed and open that there were unshed tears at the end of it.

"And who are you to be the judge of that?"

He bites his lip, sucking in a breath, and he just wants to speak--

"Because I've been onto him."

"...What-?"

You were breathless for a moment, letting go of Simon as he whispered words that made it cloudier-- made him more vague and so stubbornly confusing.

But when he doesn't reply for moments after that, you ask him what he meant by that. What he wants to mean by that-- because all these conjured up thoughts swirling in your head were doing no good for the position you were putting Simon in inside your head.

"Simon please..." you breathed out in resign, "...just tell me."

Yet he doesn't.

He sits there, ever so still.

And you think he's stuck like that if it wasn't for the constant soft crunching of his gloves as he grips and releases it.

If it weren't for his chest heaving up and down-- you would have thought you lost him.

"If you're not gonna talk, I'm leaving." You decided, having enough of working today and just... all of this with Simon.

You love him, you truly do, but him shutting himself like this is just so exhausting-- and you couldn't take another moment of it.

"Wait."

His voice rings loud enough from the doorway, where you already putting on your shoes, and you pause, letting him have a couple seconds to follow-up.

"...Its cold out, grab your coat."

You huff, slamming your shoes down again for the second time tonight. Luckily, there weren't your favorite pair, but they'd understand if its them dealing with as stubborn of a partner like Ghost right? You could only amusedly think so for a moment before going close to Ghost, glaring down at him while his face was turned downwards to the floor, no longer making eye-contact with you.

"'s that all you're gonna say to me?"

You ask again, giving him another chance, another out for him just to get it off his chest-- to just,

"FUCKING TALK SIMON!"

Your breaths are heavy and from the way Simon didn't even flinch nor move, you decided to forego that chance. To just leave and--

"He was stalking you."

You turn to him again, facing him with less intensity that you thought when you finally see him.

He's disgruntled, hair a mess, mask and gloves off, disheveled clothing-- face so scrunched with lines, you'd think he was carving the wrinkles on his face permanently.

You wait, nodding at him to continue-- not trusting your own voice at the moment to convince him to keep talking.

Simon breaths in deep.

He had no choice.

It was either he lets you leave him (and fuck him and everything he lives for if he just lets you do so without him even trying) or he talks, and shows... everything and risk you leaving either way.

If both ends at the same conclusion, fuck him for throwing caution to the wind and giving one last damn shot to keep you by his side.

"Remember when you got that weird text?" He starts off and once he sees you nod in confirmation, he continues. "Thought I should look into it."

"I told you it was just spam." You mutter and you see him shake his head, muttering a small- "not to me."

And you kept your mouth shut at that.

"Once I did," he gulps, "started seeing all the nasty shit he had on his computer and what he planned to do..." he paused, breath coming out steady.

"...once he got to you today."

You feel like a bucket of ice cold water just got splashed onto your face, your stomach dropping, your throat constricting.

"..what...?"

Was all you could manage before you see Simon stand, and you could finally see why people were scared of him, the elusive and ruthless man on the field-- the man they call Ghost.

Now you knew why he sat, why he also took the low ground with you, why he showed himself to be smaller than you because seeing him right now-- standing at his full height with a gaze you can no longer call familiar.

It was downright chilling to the bone.

"He was going to take you for himself." He growled, his emotions resurfacing once he saw the guy's search history and the not-so-elaborate plans he shared with a couple of mates on his messaging app. He had the receipts and he was going to fucking expose the guy if it weren't for your interference--.

No. He shouldn't think about it like that. You were worried for him. Yeah. You weren't disrupting anything, you were just looking out for him. That's it.

'Keep it down, Ghost.'

"If I didn't intervene," he grabs your jaw and forces you into his gaze, "I would've broken my promise to always protecting you."

This breaks the dam.

Simon, as much as he was an emotionally stunted man, meant every word he made to you in his vows.

And at the end of it all, he swore, he promised--

'Promise to protect you always.'

Was how he ended that, and how he slipped that band on your finger right now.

You felt so stupid.

Maybe it was you who were quick to assume such things of a man who would no thing to hurt you.

"Shh..." He holds you close, finally closing the distance he wanted to make ever since you guys got home. "I'm sorry."

He whispers onto your hair as one of his hands stroke it while the other was wrapped around your side.

His chin was on your head, and he just lets you sob onto him-- lets you say your apologies, but he doesn't take them.

It wasn't your fault. It was his.

And he wants to make amends.

Even if that ended up with you leaving, he'll still fulfill those vows he promised.

Because he swore it to the only person who accepted him for all that he is.

So, he'll try his best to make it work. For the both of you, or even just for your sake.

"Lovie," he mutters once your sobs turned to sniffles, "your smiles look better on you."

You huff, unable to stop the breath of a laugh from the sudden left hook of a compliment.

"I'm sorry Simon." You finally peel away from his chest to look at him and place your hands- more gently this time- on his heated cheeks.

He shakes his head-- "no, 's not you." He kisses your palms, trailing it higher until he reaches that golden metal on your finger, and his lips linger on there for moments before talking again.

"I should've told you," he admits, "just didn't want you to worry."

You immediately smacked him which made him slightly flinch at the sudden hit on his cheek.

"Dummy," you sniffle, "I still would-- whether you didn't or did."

You pout at him, "you know me Simon, I'll always worry."

He nods somberly.

"Just don't wanna add onto it." He pokes your forehead and you giggle.

"See, its already so big--"

"Shush!" You slapped away his hand this time and you could see a smile starting to grow on his lips.

"I'll remember that for next time." He promises, this time replacing his finger with forehead, tiredly connecting it to yours.

"Promise to tell me next time?"

"I promise."

"I'll worry with you instead."

He chuckles at this, relenting to your whims once more.

"You're gonna make my head bigger like yours then."

[robolvrr]

I hope you’re having a good day/night! Can we have tfa starscream and tfp starscream with a female cybertronian that’s taller than them and got the hips?😼

Also just wanted to say I love your writing!! Happy to request my brainrot here and not feel embarrassed 😖💜

she's a brick house! ◜⁠✧*ﾟ⁠+

and if i said this freak helped cultivate my voice kink, then what?

warnings: nsfw under cut. i LOVE me a skinny twig x powerhouse ship real bad.

"don't be preposterous. i don't fear you, no matter what you hear otherwise."

tfp! starscream

him and that sass of his is often too frustrating for his associates to develop anything further than a common goal oriented relationship.

the closest? knockout. and that's simply because their snark and combined chaos doesn't edge to flat hatred or harm as his other dynamics tend to.

he's not interested in your arrival at first, until megatron mentions in passing that you were a personally selected recruit. now, his pace is measured as he mutters to himself — the last thing he needs is to be fighting for a spot at the table.

not with all the aft-kissing and manipulating he's done to establish his reputation.

your introduction is short. starscream pretends not to care.

however... you don't make it easy.

starscream had always found his frame perfection. he's slender, lithe and regardless of the many repercussions with his boss, it's no surprise his metal armor is just as opulent as the nemesis itself.

there is rarely a creature or mech he has to crane his neck for.

though when he does drink you in, his intake opens, then closes, then opens once more. those razor-sharp brows are as expressive as they are obvious.

not only do you tower over him, closer to megatron's shoulder, your paint is a deep maude and your general frame is.. well. he's not complaining.

you're not as polished.. though he can tell you take hot oil baths and your curves are well-melded. his frown blooms even more. he doesn't need to be thinking about that.

wide hips. wide legs. there's an arch of ruby metal nestled at your hips that crest similar to one of these planet's filthy paradise birds.

his sneer as he realizes of course you can't fly either is enough to prevent any concerning thoughts flooding his processor.

"i see. and just what can you do?"

"what is asked of me, starscream. i do hope there won't be issues with my presence on the bridge. we are to be working close from now on, after all."

"ah, yes, o— what?! b-but lord megatron!"

turns out that megatron has had enough of his scrap. you are within the same rank but as he quickly and scornfully realizes, perform as an overqualified sparkling-sitter.

it doesn't help that you're so painfully professional. he wants to despise you, but you firmly push him from his schemes and don't have a bucket of bolts in your helm.

he's clever. you read him and his lies. he tries and fails several assassination attempts that always end with him feeling foolish and riled.

his respect, as well as his attraction, is mournfully earned. sometimes he ponders if you know this, which makes the torture of his spark crackling in your wake worse.

"oho? but of course, my sweet!"

tfa! starscream

unlike prime starscream, he is overtly flashy and unabashed with his interest. after all, what good is rule if not with competition?

he does not fear you — he did manage with sabotaging his boss and avoiding execution while doing so. the decepitcon ranks were truly mech eat mech mentality.

let's hope you're not a gentle giant, because he's got a silver glossa and isn't afraid to use it to woo.

"is it just me, or is that chrome sparkling, darling? and here i thought you were just a brute."

alright. he's just as much of a brat.

he takes pride in reaction. not only is he a skilled strategist and fighter but he knows how to ruffle feathers.

and like the boastful seeker he is, he's going to find what makes you tick.

needles for your attention just short of pushy.

walks behind you with that crooked grin of his, even though he usually likes to glide in front of his subordinates associates. hmm, wonder why?

expect him on patrols to fly above you, flaunting off in his element. what was just a simple recon turns into a full on flight show.

no personal space. he enjoys almost, just almost, pressing up against your chassis. aren't you lucky? he's wrapped around your digit.

finds excuses to touch you. never lecherously, but in the sort of a manner a feline rubs between legs.

speaking of which... he adores yours. so strong. so shapely. just how were you forged? he wants to thank primus.

nsfw headcanons.

tfp! starscream

he desires to be in control. with how much he's realistically gotten knocked around he isn't interested in getting on his knees in the berthroom.

at least... not for now. it'll take time.

imagine his surprise when you lay on your back anyways, lips curved and valve throbbing.

it ends up with him nestled and secured deep, spike bursting with transfluid between messy, sharp thrusts.

his claws dig at your frame and leave jagged marks behind, which he doesn't apologize for because you keen so approvingly he wonders just how much you'd let him get away with.

"look at you. mewling like pleasureware. pathetic."

the praise you give is music he doesn't care to admit about. suddenly he's jackhammering and his fans and vents are blasting, metal and arousal schlicking through the darkness of your habsuite.

"and here.. the mighty.. fall."

garnet optics glare down at the slope of your neck, before he's caressing up and down and nipping near your audials.

he takes you like a conquest. his, all his. and no one is taking that from him.

"for you, lord starscream. i would fall a thousand times."

interfacing is fast, uncouth but tender. you are his prized possession.

tfa! starscream

slut. that's all i have to say.

he wants you to be rough, to break him, to make him see stars. he wants you to lose your cool and force him into submission. this within itself is a sign of his obsession, for he would rather die than ever admit defeat.

his e.m. field is constantly thrumming with want. half the time you have to wear him out so he doesn't project to the entire ship that he wants to be treated like shareware.

seductive, impish mech from pit. you question if he's been sent down to drive you to insanity.

which is why he's currently hoisted over your desk, knocking over datapads and slamming into panels with a shriek that borders pain and pleasure.

your spike is bigger than his. that doesn't mean he can't keep up with you.

he will have you work for it. even when his valve squeezes and you swear he's the tightest you've ever speared, he still manages to take it.

meanwhile, he's whispering the dirtiest commands, demanding you flip him over so he can feel you.

"ha haaaa.. so easy to wind you up, commander! d-do you always have to be so cruel?"

then he's yanking you down by the hips and feeling on your aft, dermas stretched to an wicked smile.

"harder. don't you want to make me overload?"

you can tell he's just finding excuses to grope you, especially as he uses the grip on your aft to speed up the pace. even with dimmed optics you can feel his gaze, appreciative.

thoughts and prayers to the poor vehicon that has to wipe down after you're through.

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓘𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕. SUNDAY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 0.8k ノ gn reader — reader works for the family and is cleaning his office when he comes to you with a pierced wing. i like to think he did it himself. blood descriptions. treating injury. hurt and gentle comfort if you squint. reader is intimidated by his presence but willing to help anyway. not romantic. not in any relationship — i just wanted an excuse to write about sunday’s pierced wing :3

He comes to you on wobbly legs, trying his best to appear dignified when there’s blood trickling down his neck and dripping slowly on his shoulder — stains on his boyish innocence splattered with crimson, along with the prim suit now only fitting to be thrown into the laundry basket. The pierced wing behind his ear shudders, flopping down unlike the other, healthy one. He must’ve torn its sensitive nerves, the golden spikes constantly violating the delicate structure of the feathers.

Sitting in tense silence in the middle of his office, you’re incapable of forming questions to throw at him, too flabbergasted at the sight, because what would the family think of his sudden rebellious outburst? But then again, how else could he have proven himself? He wanted to stand up against the other leaders, and so he did, so they stopped considering him a baby, a little finch, still unable to live on his own away from the nest.

It was not your place to judge, though, not as a mere servant working for them. Instead, you settle him down and turn on the light, washcloth at hand, and warm water ready in minutes.

Treating the messy wound proceeds slowly; he winces under your touch, but his face remains expressionless with cold eyes fixated on an unreachable spot in space. Dab after dab, the cotton ball cleans the shattered fluff, but the soft sensation feels like stabs against the pulsing area next to his earrings. You keep your fingers as benign as possible, holding his chin up so he can take a deep breath and finally look at you. You cannot meet his gaze, focused on caring for him, but you feel his golden irises on your heated cheeks.

“Mister, d-does it still hurt?” You ask after some time, words slipping off your lips without thinking. You blurt it out involuntarily, trying to dissolve the unbearable tension between you two; it was a silly question, as if that wasn’t clear enough already.

Sunday holds back a weak smile and tries to move his wing. He flinches in pain and shoots his arm down.

“It does, unfortunately.”

You finish dabbing the last remains of blood off his neck, the tip of your tongue sticks out in concentration as you pull the cotton away. Now that the wound is clean and no longer bleeding, it isn’t nearly as alarming as before. Rather than frightening, it only serves to be fascinating for you. As cruel as it sounds, even if an angel-like Halovian will always have moments of clumsiness, it doesn’t happen often to see him struggling. It makes it all the more precious in its rarity.

Yet despite his strength and elegance, the sight of him looking like a hurt baby bird tugs on your heartstrings, perhaps because he’s cute or because there are butterflies in your stomach just by having his presence here alone in this room. Sunday usually has little care for those working under the family, let alone to stay long enough to witness their existence; when he does, it is usually through passing glances during business meetings, never catching eyes with one another. And now that he came to you willingly and spoke your name as though he were truly interested, you felt blessed beyond measure.

Trying to stop the fire from returning to your cheeks, you sigh, standing up with a bowl in hand. He stays quiet and unmoving, save for a twitch of the eye or an awkward scratch to his neck. The atmosphere feels uncomfortable, at least to you, but it must be even worse for him, the shame finally catching up to him.

“Don’t tell anyone about this. I will… deal with the consequences on my own. Later…” he trails off, breaking the silence at last. “This will surely bring some drama to my next meeting. But I do not wish for you to get involved by an accident.”

His voice becomes bitter, almost whining; the sound muffled as he presses his chin down into his collarbone. As though the pierced wing is heavy like stone on his shoulders, a burden too hard to lift right away. Sunday speaks as if the entire weight is on him alone, the pressure piling up without end. You doubt if someone can really help him, much less a servant.

The thought saddens you.

“It will be alright.” You bite your lip and take the bowl and bloody cotton balls away without another word. Unsure of what to say next, slightly embarrassed about getting so friendly with the young leader, it’s best to leave. He didn’t come to you for empty platitudes, anyway; he would have called a professional, someone with experience.

Perhaps he trusted you not to say a word, to keep it between you two, forever sealed.

[burst-of-iridescent]

well since i can already tell that we’re all going to be subjected to the same old tired mai & mai.ko discourse for the foreseeable future, let’s get it clear right now that the atla comics have never been, and will never be acceptable mediums of character development, and here’s why:

1. the comics are given the benefit of hindsight, which impairs organic character growth.

it’s become extremely clear over the last few years that many of the comics are made as, or include, direct responses to criticisms of the original show — especially when it comes to katara, mai, and the canon pairings. aang didn’t ask katara for consent? look, he’s checking if he can kiss her! mai doesn’t care about fire nation imperialism? here, she’s an anti fascist! iroh was a creep to june? don’t worry, here he is apologising!

many of the things the characters do or say in the comics feel unnatural because they are not written as characters, but as mouthpieces for the creators to address fandom complaints from the original show.

“but that’s good, right? they’re trying to make it better!” i mean… sure? it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s damage control, and that no matter what stories span the middle, the arcs of these characters still begin and end with avatar: the last airbender, and the legend of korra, both of which are fixed and immutable. the comics cannot retroactively fix the issues of either show, because they’ve already been defined as the goalposts of the characters’ lives, and there is no way to undo that.

it’s like if you eat a meal that isn’t to your satisfaction, and maybe the chief makes you another dish, which is all well and good — but it doesn’t fix the fact that the original meal still sucked! sometimes, accepting criticism means accepting that there’s no way to go back and fix it but to do better next time, with the next story you wish to tell.

if the legend of korra didn’t exist, and the arcs of the characters were left open after atla, then maybe there would be for the room for the comics to function as character development if not for the fact that…

2. the comics are intended for a very different audience than the show.

it’s obvious that the audience for the original show vastly outnumbers the audience for the comics, likely by thousands, if not millions. this isn’t the mcu, where the installation of any atla property is vital to understanding the next, and so on. you can skip the comics and miss nothing whatsoever (and honestly your life would be far improved by doing so).

those who read the comics are likely only the real diehard fans of the show — and the creators know this, which is why we have the whole issue of point one above. but this difference in audience matters, because it reflects the significance of the story being told, and how important it is for the audience to know it. this is why, if the characters’ development and storylines in the comics truly, genuinely mattered, it would have been in the show already.

i’m not saying that the gaang wouldn’t have continued to grow and change post-atla, but generally stories exist as closed circuits, self-contained within themselves. when you end atla, you’re meant to believe that those arcs are finished. that’s the whole reason the comics deal mostly with fun silly adventures, or with quick, temporary conflicts instead of grand, overarching narratives, because they are not truly meant to function as a continuation of the story of atla, or its characters.

(if you ask me frankly, they’re meant to be nostalgia cash grabs, but that’s neither here nor there.)

creator intention matters with the atla comics (or any atla property, in fact), because creator intention was the subject of criticism for the original show in the first place. why must we rely on the comics or the cookbook or avatar legends to tell us that katara did things with her life outside of aang? why do we need to turn to something released nearly two decades after atla to find any evidence that mai denounced the fire nation’s imperialist indoctrination, when she’s romantically involved with one of the show’s most important characters? why are these stories relegated to a medium with far less reach, far too late?

the answer is that the writers didn’t find those stories to be originally worth telling, and that is the real problem fans have been pointing out since 2008.

so, tldr:

[lilbabybackwoods]

you’ll never see this but

you were right

i should’ve seen this coming

and i should’ve listened. it’s not your fault, it’s mine

i love you, so much. but i’m not what you need. you never needed me. you were content on your own, in your isolation. you even told me so

and again, i should’ve listened.

you care so much, so deeply about the people you love despite the countless times people have shown you the opposite. continue to love, regardless of how much your beautiful heart has been dragged through the mud.

the resilience of your heart and mind are one of the most ethereal things about you, one of the things i’ve always admired.

you’ll always hold the most special place in mine. just like you always have, ever since that one day 7 years ago when the universe made our paths cross somehow

and i hope that in these last few months that we’ve spent together, although our time spent was short, that i could at least make you feel happy again

and i hope that whoever or whatever it is that makes your soul feel free, and those crinkles by your eyes that i’ve grown to love deepen, that you find it all.

and someday, i hope you can be truly at peace. the way i’ve always wanted you to be, the way you’ve always deserved to be, with or without me

and i promise i won’t be in the way of any of that anymore

and i’m sorry, i’m truly am so sorry for coming back into your life

and causing all of these issues, these problems that weren’t yours to fix. damaged goods. none of this was your fault.

i’m sorry.

[whore4gwen]

Bittersweet ﾟ･｡

Tired Agent!Rio Vidal x Reader

Tags; FLUFF, very slight angst if you really squint, secretive Rio, & I think that’s its tbh!

A/n: Welcome to my first AAA fic! I’ve been reading them religiously, so I decided to finally write one.

I desperately needed Rio fluff; I hope you all enjoy:)

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

The bite of autumn air sent a chill down your spine. The wind rustled through the trees bitterly. The faint residue of rain and mildew infiltrated the air around you bringing a sort of lightheadedness.

Swiftly, you unlocked the door to your lofty home and quickly went inside. The day has dragged by miserably.You wanted nothing more than to sit down and relax. Expectedly, you looked towards the couch thinking it would be inhabited by your girlfriend, but to your disappointment, empty. A small pout formed at your lips.

As the fire burned bright, Soft shades of yellow and red gingerly wrapped the living room in a cozy blanket. The heat from the flames provided an indescribable tranquility. A peaceful forcefield that allowed you to finally forget all your troubles, even for just a moment.

A soft sigh left your lips as you peered at your phone. It dinged with a message from your girlfriend, Rio Vidal.

‘Hey sweetheart, work ran a bit later than expected. Omw now.’

A smile tugged at your lips. How you missed Rio, as a fbi agent she's constantly on the clock. Even on her days off, she’s never really, truly done working. You suppose it's just a part of the job, which she does very well at.

A light thud outside the door dragged you from your thoughts. Excitedly you watched in anticipation. Nothing could beat the way you felt when you where with her.

“Hello my love.” Rio muttered whilst taking off her topcoat and hanging it on the ornate coat rack beside the door. “How was your day?” she asked after getting settled on the couch beside you.

“Terribly Slow. I missed you very, very much,” you exaggerate bashfully. A slow, rare smile lifted the corners of Rio’s lips at your confession. She reached forward and enclosed your hands with hers. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

This was your favorite side of Rio. The soft, neutering, caring side that no one else had the fortuity of seeing. Every day she comes home from work and treats you the very same, regardless of whatever day she may have had. All mine, you thought to yourself happily.

“How was work?” You questioned, tilting your head, genuinely curious of how it went. She doesn’t seem to be in a foul mood, but then again, sometimes it’s hard to tell with Rio.

Momentarily, she visibly tensed at the question. “We got a lead on the Dawson case.” she answered, flicking her eyes between you and the black rug on the floor behind you.

You sigh in annoyance and gaze at Rio knowingly. She's holding back. A distilled silence settles between the two of you, neither one of you willing to make an effort to break it.

Slowly, you nod your head, deciding not to pry any further. Even if you wanted to, some things were left better unsaid, and if Rio wanted to talk about them, she would. As an agent there’s certain precautions she must take in order to efficiently do her job, and to protect you. You understood that, even if it hurt your feelings sometimes; though you tried not to take it personally.

Suddenly your eyes drop to your hands intertwined with Rios. Softly, you begin to caress the back of her hand, drawing soothing shapes mindlessly. Her smooth skin was soft and grounding; exactly what you needed at the moment.

Lightly, Rio squeezes your hand and hums in acknowledgement. Even if she doesn’t say out loud, she appreciates your gesture. She can’t help but find comfort in your warmth.

While maintaining your ministrations, you gently lay your head on Rio’s right shoulder. She tilts her head slightly while she lets you adjust to the new position. Rio then places a soft kiss on your forehead before she rests against your side. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer, if that’s even possible.

Rio closes her eyes as she lets the comforting smell of you consume her senses. A deep, content sigh erupted from her chest. To Rio, every bad day felt worth it if it meant she could come home and hold you like this.

———————————————————————

A/n: My apologies for the short chapter, more is to come!

[liaragaming]

I've seen some posts with people feeling like Mythal was more important to Solas than Lavellan, and I just...

Mythal represents Solas's regets. It's not that he loved Mythal more. It's that he did such terrible things for her. And after she died, he felt like it was all for nothing. And he couldn't let it all be for nothing. Because where does that leave him with all those terrible things?

It seems like people wanted Lavellan to be the catalyst that changed things for Solas, and I'm sorry, but that was never going to happen. No matter how much she loved him, that would never be enough for him to let go of the pain he carried.

This is exactly what the Crestwood scene shows! He brings her there because he realizes how much he loves her. Because he decides he's going to leave the past behind him. And only when he reaches the very moment of his confession does he realize he can't let things go. Not even for her.

This was true in Inquisition! This was true in Trespasser! Lavellan is not enough to save him. If people feel like Veilguard spit in their face for reinforcing that... I'm sorry, but this was always the case.

Mythal is the catalyst behind Solas's regrets. He took a body for her. He made a weapon to sunder the titans for her (and the elven people). He made the Veil as retribution for her death (and to lock away the Blight), and then he wakes up to find the world destroyed in a different way and still dealing with the damn Blight. All of his choices feel like one giant mistake after another. And he has to fix it.

He doesn't give it up because he "loved Mythal more" or because she "mattered more" than Lavellan. But because she's the only one who can release him from the choices he made at her request.

Lavellan is there to pick up the pieces and say, "I understand the pain that you are going through that's driven you to do these terrible things, and I love you anyway because I see the person that you truly are underneath."

She sees him. She's the only one who ever truly has. Mythal certainly can't claim that. But Mythal is Solas's past, and it's his past that he needs to let go before he can embrace his future.

Solas's character and motivations and relationship with Lavellan didn't change between Inquisition and Veilguard. It's always been this way.

I think people were wanting a love conquers all story. And Solas's story has always been so incredibly tragic because love wasn't enough from the very beginning.

That doesn't mean Lavellan can't "save" him. I still hold the romance ending is the only one where he goes happy. Lavellan gets to be his future instead of one where he faces atonement alone.

And Solas does actually choose her. He tells her where he's going is terrible, and she tells him nothing will be terribleas long as they are together. And he accepts her love for him.

She can make the same plea in Trespasser, and he rejects it! He tells her he can't take her with him. He doesn't want her weighed down by the same regrets he carries. Only once he's freed of those regrets can he accept her desire to walk beside him and forge something new.

Tbh, if he wanted Mythal, Morrigan’s standing right there. Solas doesn’t love her more or care about her more. He's just in pain. And it's pain Mythal put there. He needs her to release him from it.

Solas has suffered abuse and trauma, and just like in the real world, love often isn't enough to just "fix" that. Solas needed closure, and that's what Mythal gives him. That doesn't make his love for Lavellan any less. I'd even argue it's Lavellan post the events of Veilguard that help him heal. But he needed that closure before healing could start.