#they’re just like ‘okay tell me more’

[luveline]

I would love to hear more about post-prisoner!spencer and shy!reader now that they’re dating pretty please they’re so cute 😭💗

“You’re doing it again,” Spencer murmurs. 

You let a breath slip from between your lips, blinking. “Mm?” 

“You’re having a hot flush.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“Don’t be– I’m not telling you so you’re sorry,” he murmurs, fondness sinking into every word. “Why do you get so hot like this? Is it the socks?” 

You had to ditch your stockings when you got back to Spencer’s place, sick of them pinching and riding all over the show, but then Spencer worried about cold floors and nagged you into wearing his socks and it doesn’t matter, it’s not the socks. “It’s just a girl thing, sometimes,” you murmur back. 

“Is it?”

“Think so.” 

Could also be that Spencer’s in the corner of the couch and he’s pulled you against him, half sitting and half laying, nosing slowly at the side of your face whenever he remembers to do it, which is often. He doesn’t realise what he’s doing, clearly, if he’s concerned again about your temperature. 

“I’m fine,” you say, willing him to stop talking about it. 

“I don’t really know anything about hot flushes,” he says. You can hear the wrinkle in his nose. “I think it’s a gap in my knowledge. Not anything useful.” 

“It’ll go away in a minute.” 

“Did you want me to open a window?” 

Spencer moving is the very last thing you want, despite your body’s constant overreaction; his being close to you is like this insane gift you haven’t learned to accept, but you’re obsessed with nonetheless. You’ve learned to relax into his touching and his embraces despite your initial nerves (which is putting it kindly), and you can’t help yourself now as he attempts to move you. You whine in loud, uncharacteristic displeasure and turn on your side to be facing his chest. “No,” you say into his t-shirt, squeezing yourself as close to his body as you can. 

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” He doesn’t hold you immediately, and you tense, but as quickly as you’ve gone rigid the sooner he’s wrapping his arms around you in return. “This won’t help you cool down.” 

“Sure it will.” 

Spencer laughs softly. For a minute you hide in his front, your heart uncomfortably quick in your hands, but he has a talent for putting you at ease, letting his fingertips tumble up and down your back. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Tired.” 

Spencer blows a cold breath at the top of your head. “Then sleep.” 

“Gotta go home.” 

“No, you don’t. You can stay…” He’s murmuring again, “There’s more than enough room for both of us in my bed, and I’ll drive you home in the morning so you can get ready… You don’t have to leave.” He kisses your forehead. “Please don’t go home.” 

“I…” You lift your head, putting you both eye to eye. “Why’d you want me to stay this bad?” 

“Trick question.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“You are?” He moves to cradle the side of your face. “I want you to stay ‘cos I do. There’s not really another reason, I just want you to be here with me instead of away at your place, I don’t think we need… you don’t need to go home, do you?” 

“No,” you say, tentative, but not reluctant, “I don’t. I’ll stay.” 

“Yeah?” Your face must betray you. Spencer takes pity on you and stops pouring his gaze all over you, instead ducking down to kiss you chastely. “So shy,” he mumbles against your lips. 

“Stop it.” 

“So warm…” He smiles into another kiss before pulling quickly away. “It’s good, you should stay, I need to figure out the cause of all these crazy hot flushes.” 

You settle back against his chest. “Go ahead,” you say with a sigh. He’ll never guess it’s him, and you’re not about to tell him. 

[revelboo]

Great monarch Revelboo if I ask you nicely could you please assign me a mech to cuddle 🥰 I can’t decide who I would want to cuddle with the most! Which mechs would enjoy it the most and which would enjoy it but refuse to admit it? ty ty you are the best 👑

Ahh! Love this 💕

Cuddle Time Headcanons

ES Wheeljack

- tries his hardest to convince you that you don’t actually want to cuddle with him. Painfully awkward guy, but he just gives up and allows it if you insist. Secretly loves it even if he’s embarassed

• Optics wide, he freezes when you just climb up into his lap and sit down. Like you belong there. And then you’re leaning into him and he hears Elita and Optimus make noises that sound suspiciously like badly suppressed laughter. Surely you’d rather sit with someone else? No? Embarrassed enough even before you lean into him with a happy little sigh. Venting softly, he loosely drapes a hand against you, freezing when you latch onto a servo and snuggle against his palm. Apparently no one wants to help him and he has no idea why you’ve latched onto him. Chosen him as your protector and safe spot. And okay, maybe it makes warmth spread through him, makes him want to protect you. But they’re all still staring at him and not even hiding that they think it’s funny. They have to realize he’s not cut out for this.

Bluestreak

- aware that he can be clingy, but if you encourage or just don’t tell him to stop, he just wants to cuddle with you.

• Servos flexing because you’d gone to sleep curled in your nest of blankets while he’d been out too late. And knows he shouldn’t disturb you when you look so relaxed, but still slides his servos under you. Hears the soft, sleepy sound you make, head lifting before you realize it’s him and relax in his hands. Lying down curled on his side, he cuddles you up against his chassis and folds his door wings out behind him. Cups a hand against you, chin tucked against his chassis and legs drawn up until he’s curled around you as much as he can. Letting the warmth of you keep the nightmares at bay.

Swerve

- if you give him permission to cuddle or just seek out his body heat, he’s all for it. But the narrative in his head is probably that you’re deeply, madly in love with him, not just cold

• Startling when you drape yourself against him, eyes closed and making a pitiful little noise of misery, he mass shifts for you, arms open wide. “Cold again?” He asks, feeling almost guilty that he’d been cutting down the temperature in his habsuite on purpose just so you’d curl up against him. And you just sprawl in his arms, letting him wrap himself around you. “I’ll file a complaint with Mags, let him know there’s something wrong with the heat again,” he lies, resting his chin on top of your head. And it’s just a little, bitty lie. You understand, right? Getting used to the pulse of his spark just like he’s used to the beat of your heart. And pretending you’re his, that you want to be in his arms. That you know you belong right here.

Jazz

- wants you to read one of your smutty books to him, promising he’ll behave while you sprawl on top of him

• “Hand,” you mutter as he drapes a hand over you, one servo on your butt. “Jazz.” And his crooked grin is completely unapologetic. Even if he’d promised to behave. Huffing, you flip open the book to the page you’d folded the corner of the night before. You swear he likes these cheesy romance novels more than you do as you begin to read to him, relaxing with the feel of his warmth against you, sprawled on him.

Hound

- wants to share with you the vast, green world outside the Ark. To curl up with you by a lake and relax

• “Oh.” The area’s heavily wooded, sun lancing through the leaves to dapple the mass shifted mech in gold as you look from him to the calm lake. Realizing that he’s sharing this with you, something that matters to him and his arms come around you, tugging you back into his frame. And you relax, feeling the heat of the sun and warmth of the mech at your back. “It’s beautiful.” Playing with his servos as his chin rests on top of your head.

TFA Bulkhead

- big, awkward guy. Lets you sprawl on top of him, a big hand draped over you as you both watch TV and whisper (and Sari and Bee both complain)

• Laughing as he slowly goes over backwards and you end up sprawled on top of him, he drapes a big hand over you, head back to watch the TV upside down. Laying your chin on him as a big servo runs between your shoulder blades, you can hear Sari and Bee’s loud ‘ewww’ at you both. It’s not like you’re making out, but they’re carrying on like you are and you reach to touch Bulkhead’s chin. Relaxed and comfortable where you are.

Armada Starscream

- wouldn’t admit that he needs the feel of you, your scent and warmth against him to be able to recharge. If you want to cuddle up against him, he allows it. Won’t ask for it even though a part of him loves it

• Venting he doesn’t resist when you and the mini-cons all sprawl on him. There’s no fighting it at this point, acting as your bed. Suspects you’re only after his warmth, but he doesn’t really mind having you there. Recharges better knowing where you are, feeling your heart beating against him. Because this is as close to home and family as he’s had in forever. Wants to protect this feeling, to hold onto it.

[moonreader1010]

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨?

𝓟𝓘𝓒𝓚 𝓐 𝓟𝓘𝓛𝓔 - ・❥・: ̗̀➛

︵‿︵‿୨♡ Ｒｅａｄｉｎｇ ｂｙ － ＭＡＥ ♡୧‿︵‿︵

(PLEASE DO CHECK OUT THE NOTE AT THE END OF THE READING)

PILE 1

First of all, The High Priestess? You are a damn enigma. You carry an air of mystery that drives them crazy. You’re not the type to lay all your cards (pun intended) on the table at once—you keep them guessing. You know when to speak, when to stay silent, and when to let your eyes do all the talking. Your intuition is on point, and your lover can feel that you know things—things they haven’t even said out loud.

Now, here’s where things get spicy-spicy. The Five of Wands isn’t about peace and quiet—it’s about tension, competition, and passion. This card tells me that you don’t just leave them speechless with your mystery—you also challenge them, push their buttons, and keep things fun in a way that makes their heart race.

How do you leave them speechless?You keep them on their toes. You’re not afraid to tease, to play a little hard to get, to make them work for your attention. And let’s be real—they love the chase.You spark their fire. This isn’t just about soft, slow romance (though you can do that too). This is about passionate, competitive, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other energy. Maybe it’s a battle of wits, playful teasing, or tension that builds up until it explodes.You make them crave more. They’re left speechless because they never know what’s coming next. One minute, you're pulling away with a sly smile, and the next, you’re completely stealing their breath away. Unpredictability is your secret weapon.

Ohhh, and just when they think they’ve figured you out? You completely flip the script. The Ace of Cups is about overflowing emotion, deep intimacy, and love that feels like drowning in pleasure. If The High Priestess keeps them intrigued and the Five of Wands keeps them chasing, the Ace of Cups? That’s where they fall—all the way in.

PILE 2

First off, The Chariot is all about strength, confidence, and taking the wheel. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and that is immediately clear to anyone who crosses your path. You leave them speechless because you’re unapologetically in control of your life, your desires, and how you carry yourself. There’s a magnetic energy that pulls them in—there’s no guessing where you’re going or what you want because you radiate self-assuredness.

Okay, the Ten of Swords? This is about transformation through pain—but in a spicy way. You leave them speechless because you’ve been through your struggles and come out the other side stronger and hotter than ever. The Ten of Swords speaks to the end of a difficult cycle, the kind that often feels like being knocked down—but what happens next is what gets them every time. You rise from the ashes, a version of yourself that’s unstoppable.

How do you leave them speechless? You don’t let anything hold you back. You’ve been through the worst, and now you’re showing them a version of yourself that’s more confident, more powerful, and more ready to take what you want. You know how to break free and leave the past behind—which, let’s be real, is sexy. There’s something about someone who isn’t afraid to shed old skins, and you do it with such grace and power that they can’t help but be in awe. You turn pain into passion. That whole ‘rising from the ashes’ vibe? It’s not just emotional; it’s also physical. You channel that fire into your passion and energy, whether it’s in a seductive glance or a slow, powerful move that has them speechless in the best way.

And now, the Queen of Wands. Oh my God, this card is everything! The Queen of Wands is the embodiment of fiery, magnetic, unapologetic confidence. She is the woman who walks into a room and every head turns. She knows her worth, and she flames with passion, creativity, and irresistible allure. How do you leave them speechless? By being a goddess of charm, seduction, and strength—a true force that can't be ignored.

PILE 3

The Fool? You are a total wild card. You leave them speechless because you’ve got that energy of someone who is not afraid to take risks, to go after what they want with absolutely zero hesitation. There’s something thrilling about the way you live your life like it’s an adventure, and you drag them along for the ride, whether they’re ready or not. They never know what to expect with you—and that’s hot.

Next, the Knight of Cups. Oh, baby, this is where we get into full-blown romantic and emotional seduction. You leave them speechless by showing up with that perfect balance of passion and emotion. The Knight of Cups is all about expressing love in the most dramatic, sweeping, captivating way. And when it comes to love, you’re like a knight on a white horse—ready to sweep them off their feet and make them feel adored, cherished, and completely special.

How do you leave them speechless? You woo them with words. You know exactly what to say to make them feel like they’re the only person in the world. Your emotional depth and sincerity are intoxicating—they can’t help but be swept up in your charm. You know how to make grand romantic gestures. Whether it’s an unexpected date, a slow dance under the stars, or even just an unexpected compliment that’s so heartfelt, they’re left speechless by how much you care. You open up emotionally. They may not be expecting this kind of deep emotional connection, but when you share your feelings, it’s with such sincerity and passion that it leaves them stunned by your vulnerability and affection. You’re not afraid to show them the real you, and that’s a level of intimacy that takes their breath away.

Alright, here’s where the magic happens: Three of Pentacles. You leave them speechless because you’re not just a lover, you’re a partner—and you know how to build something beautiful together. This isn’t just about physical attraction; this is about you both coming together to create something amazing. Whether it’s your creativity, your shared goals, or the way you work together in sync, the chemistry between you two goes beyond the surface.

Ⓝⓞⓣⓔⓢ

Check out our latest ------------(18+) services

This is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest.

All credit of the pictures goes to thier rightfull owners.

Sending lots of love to whoever is reading this, take care.

[puckinghischier]

Can you do a little blurb of Nico asking you to be his valentine 🥺

he’d been a little off all day, but not in a bad way. he just seemed…sneaky. and nervous. two adjectives you’d never normally use to describe nico, but here you are, sitting on the couch watching an early 2000’s rom com while he sends nervous glances your way every few seconds.

he keeps looking at the door, too, making you suspicious as to what (or who) is going to be coming through it.

about halfway through the movie you hear several quick knocks on the door, the sound making nico jump up like the apartment was on fire.

“i’ll go get it! stay here, it might be a stranger,” is what he rushes out, his accent thick and jumbling his words a bit. he all but runs to the door, only cracking it to whisper at whoever is on the other side.

your interest is very obviously piqued, and you’re extra tuned in to what’s happening in the small entry way, despite trying to pretend it’s not.

“y/n, i need you to close your eyes,” you hear nico ring out to you, a hint of nerves and stress in his tone.

you sit up straight from your lounged position, confusion taking over.

“neeks, why do i need to close my eyes? who’s out there? what’s going on?”

“please, just close your eyes,” he basically whines, not wanting you to ruin the surprise before it’s even in the apartment.

with an amused sigh, you comply. “okay, they’re closed. tell me when i can open them again.”

you hear hushed voices, two of them. very familiar voices.

“jack? luke? is that you?” you ask, hands still over your eyes to block your vision.

“hey y/n!” luke’s cheery voice fills the space, followed by a thud, a grunt, and jack’s voice whisper shouting “dude, you were told to be quiet. shut up!”

nico groans lowly, knowing he shouldn’t have recruited them for help.

you hear shuffling and clanking before the footsteps and noises stop, almost making you nervous for what scene you can’t see is unfolding.

“okay, before you open your eyes, i need you to know that only one of these things was my idea and the other was unknown to me until i opened the door. so, just be prepared. you’ll know which one was my idea. i hope,” nico’s nervous voice moves closer to you, until you feel his hands close around your wrists from behind.

he’s leaning over the back of the couch you’re sitting on, his heat radiating off his chest onto your back.

“alright, on the count of three,” nico whispers into your ear, letting his lips brush against the skin.

“one,” you hear a snicker from jack or luke, you can’t really tell.

“two,” you notice nico’s hands are oddly sweaty.

“three,” his hands tremble only slightly as he moves your own away from your face, not knowing what sight awaits you as your eyes adjust from the darkness you were just in.

when you can see more than just stars again, you’re met with an image you never, in your life, thought you’d see.

blocking the tv you were just watching, was a massive floral arrangement. it was in the shape of a heart, with bright red roses in the outline of the heart, followed by soft pink roses a little further inward, and white roses filling out the center.

in the middle of the foliage was a “be my valentine?” spelled out in a mixture of black roses and some other flower you couldn’t name. it was beautiful, really. a little eccentric, but absolutely gorgeous.

the flowers weren’t even what grabbed your attention, though.

what you were focused on, was the two characters stood on either side of the arrangement.

luke and jack stood on either side of the large display, in skin colored body suits, headbands with slinky antenna hearts on their heads, sporting adult diapers, fake bows and heart shaped arrows in hand, and wearing costume angel wings on their backs.

“you’ve been love bombed!!” luke shouts before they both take the heart shaped arrows and twist the base, setting off an explosion of red, pink, and white confetti to reign down on you and all of the furniture in the room.

it all happened so fast you truly didn’t know how to react, mouth dropping open in surprise.

nico mumbled what you assumed were curse words in swiss-german before standing straight up to brush the confetti out of his hair.

“for fucks sake you two, you never told me you were going to cover the whole living room in confetti you asshats.”

“well you never told us we couldn’t,” jack shrugs at nico’s words, clearly very proud of their small contribution to nico’s romantic gesture.

the three start bickering back and forth, arguing over who’s going to clean the living room up and if jack or luke has to pay for the cleaners to come in and remove the million pieces of paper.

still trying to process if what you just witnessed really happened, you come back to your sense a bit and interrupt the argument.

“wait, wait wait wait,” you gain their attention, standing up as the three men in front of you fall silent, watching you dust off all the confetti that landed on you. “nico…we’ve been dating for two years…why are you asking me to be your valentine?”

nico stares at you through the silence, his face void of any previous emotion.

“you know, it’s so funny you ask him that, because i said the same thing when he ordered this ridiculous thing the other day after practice,” jack is the one to break the silence, causing nico to turn and give him a glare that could kill.

“cap, it’s a valid question. i mean, wouldn’t this kind of be pre-dating stuff? not ‘already living together and sleeping together every night’ stuff?” luke chimes in, his comment earning a slight growl from nico before the scene erupts into chaos once again.

nico lunges towards luke, luke screams and runs behind the couch, jack is laughing so hard he’s bent over, nico is having a stand off with luke trying to gauge which direction he’s going to run, and you’re standing there, in the middle of it all.

once luke makes a run for it, nico started chasing him throughout the apartment, managing to get just within reach enough to rip the diaper off of his body, a now naked-looking luke streaking through the space.

“good lord what did i sign myself up for?” you ask jack, who’s just now coming down from his fit of giggles and laughter.

“happy valentine’s day, mrs. cap. you’re stuck with us.” jack answers, wiping at his eyes.

“well, i didn’t technically say yes before all hell broke loose,” you point out, hearing a squeal, letting you know nico caught up to luke.

“pshhh, as if you’d say no and deny yourself of all this fun.”

nico comes around the corner, pulling luke by his ear and handful of curls, mumbling to him about how he needs to apologize to you for making an inappropriate comment involving your sex life with nico, even though it wasn’t even the worst that’s ever been said to you.

“nah, you’re right, i couldn’t ever say no. i’d miss you all too much,” you think about how comical the whole thing has really been, the entertainment way better than the long forgotten movie still playing on the tv behind you.

[zmbiesoph]

rainbow sprinkles

Summery: you and Steve fight over sprinkles, and it turns to something more

wanings: none

It started with an argument about sprinkles.

“I’m just saying,” Steve declared, leaning against the counter with that signature smirk of his, “sprinkles are the worst ice cream topping. They don’t even taste like anything.”

You gasped, clutching the container of rainbow sprinkles like he had personally insulted your family. “Blasphemy.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, name one good thing about them.”

“They’re colorful and fun,” you shot back, dramatically shaking a handful over his head. A few landed in his hair, getting lost in the soft brown waves.

“Great. So they make a mess. That’s two strikes against them.” He ruffled his hair, shaking the sprinkles off, but one stubborn little blue one stayed put. You decided not to tell him.

“Sprinkles are elite. This is a hill I will die on.”

Steve smirked, crossing his arms. “That’s a dumb hill, Y/N.”

“You’re a dumb hill.”

Before he could respond, a mother with a crying toddler approached the counter, and both of you straightened up. Steve launched into customer service mode, flashing a smile that was equal parts charming and tired.

“Ahoy! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. What can I get for you?”

As Steve took their order, you tried to focus on work, but it was hard when he was so—well, him. It had started out as just another summer job, slinging ice cream and dealing with sweaty mall-goers, but somewhere between Steve’s awful jokes and the way he always made sure you got the last waffle cone before they ran out, you started to feel something.

Which was so not part of the plan.

You were still trying to shake the thought when the mother took her toddler’s ice cream cone and, naturally, disaster struck.

One second, the kid was reaching for his scoop of chocolate, the next, it plummeted onto the counter, splattering all over your apron.

You froze. The kid froze. Steve? He howled with laughter.

You turned to glare at him. “This is your fault.”

Steve wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“You jinxed me with your bad sprinkle opinions.”

“You’re right. My anti-sprinkle stance is a powerful force.”

The kid started sniffling, and Steve, to his credit, immediately switched gears. “Hey, little dude, don’t worry—we’ll fix it.” He grabbed a new cone, added an extra scoop, and handed it over. “On the house.”

The kid beamed, all traces of distress gone. You hated how attractive that was.

After they left, you went to the back to clean up, still grumbling about how Steve was definitely responsible. He followed, arms crossed as he watched you scrub chocolate from your apron.

“So,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Am I gonna get an apology?”

You raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For accusing me of sprinkle-based sabotage.”

You scoffed. “Never.”

Steve clicked his tongue. “Shame. I was gonna offer to buy you dinner after work, but if you’re not feeling guilty…”

Your hands paused mid-scrub. “Wait. What?”

His smirk softened into something more genuine, a little nervous, even. “Dinner. You, me. Not here. I mean, unless you really want more ice cream.”

Your heart did a very dumb thing in response—like a little flip. “Are you… asking me out?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “Uh, yeah. I mean, unless you don’t want to. In which case, I was totally joking, and this is just, you know, workplace banter—”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d love to get dinner with you.”

His whole face lit up. “Yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. “Yeah.”

“Well, in that case,” he reached over and plucked a sprinkle from your shoulder, holding it up with a grin, “this is coming with us as a third wheel.”

You shoved his arm playfully, laughing as he pretended to stumble. Maybe working at Scoops Ahoy wasn’t so bad after all.

HELP I LOVE THIS SOSOSOSO MUCH LIKE ITS JUST SO… FUN

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Disrespect.

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- comment here to be added to my Taglist

You stood in line waiting for your food. Young il stood quietly behind you, his eyes observing the room.

“Honey, can you stop” you say taking your food from the guard.

“Can I stop what? I didn’t do anything.” He replied.

“I can see you scanning the room. Enough.” You say sharply, “ you’re giving me anxiety.”

“My mistake, darling” you sat down in your bed, stuffing your face hungrily. “Why’re you eating like that?”

“Like what? I’m not doing anything” you mock him.

“Eating like I don’t feed you well enough”

“I’m trapped in this prison” you reply gulping down water like it’s gonna disappear.

“Eat right” he orders. “I’m going to go use the restroom. Behave yourself” within 5 minutes of him being gone a man walked up to you.

“Señorita, excuse me?”

“What?”

“I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous, and I want you on my squad” he smiles.

“Oh yeah? What’s so good about you?” You snort.

“Look, I can protect you” he tries to appeal to you. “You know me? I’m a legend Thanos” he made a gesture with his hands, smiling cutely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can” Young il speaks. “Hey, grape head, why don’t you kick rocks?”

“I’m talking to this beautiful señorita over here” Thanos points to you.

“Yeah, you missed my point, I don’t care.” Young il responded.

“Yeah, you missed mine, grandpa”

“I bet this grandpa can still get more pussy than you, tooth pick.” Young il shrugged casually. “Besides, what’s up with your tattoos? What are you, the practice dummy at a tattoo parlor?”

“I’ll have you know they are an artistic choice”

“Artistic? Is the artist in the room with us?” Young il looks around. “You know, I’ve seen you somewhere… aren’t you that idiot that tried chatting up another man’s wife?”

“Uhhhh” Thanos stalled. That was definitely him. “No man, that wasn’t me… that was my uhh twin brother”

“Oh you have a twin, here I thought stupidity used a whole single brain cell, but I guess yours uses 1/4 of it”

“Listen here old man-“

“No you listen to me. String bean. You’re gonna turn around and walk the other way. Before you and I truly do have an issue.” Young il cocks his head back.

“Trying to size me up? Huh?”

“Don’t get loud with me.” Young il said calmly. “I’ll crush your vocal cords and make you disappear from existence. Then you won’t be a legend.” Young il makes a ‘poof’ motion with his hands.

“I’ll still be a legend” Thanos defends.

“Legend of what? Terrible rapping and dumb tattoos? Some legend you are” Young il rolls his eyes. “So look, make this easy” he shoulders him as he walks past Thanos to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Make what easy?”

“Stay away from my wife, and I won’t cause a scene” he states. “Talk to her again, and I’ll cut your fingers off one by one and force feed them to you” Young il says lowly. Thanos stalled, his brain processing. “Okay, Grape head?”

“Yes that’s perfect” he speed walks away from you.

“You don’t always have to be so rude, you know” you say.

“No no, I do” Young il sighed as he spoke. “Idiots like him exist. They think they’re so cool that they can just hit on Pretty girls. And they don’t consider the fact that she could be married or with someone and all that stuff” he pulls your chin to look at him. “Besides, you’re beautiful, but you’re also my girl” he plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Your girl?” You squeal. This man has never failed to make your heart skip beats.

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @watasinekoru

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hihi!! I have a small request idea if you're still taking them.

What if Shadow needed to take off his gloves -maybe they got a tear and needed to be fixed, etc, and the reader gets to admire his paws/ hands/claws (and perhaps the lil experiment number/mark I’ve seen him have in some things)? Can be platonic or romantic!! If romantic... maybe some hand smooches?

“A Show of Trust”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Mobians almost never took off their gloves. So when you get the chance to see Shadow’s hands, you aren’t going to take it lightly.

Notes: Eeee fics like these are always so cute! I hope I live up to that expectation with this one, and I hope you enjoy!

(Reader will be gender-neutral, and will be mobian for story purposes.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

It was a basic day for you; you didn’t have work today and there wasn’t much to do. Though, your partner, Shadow the Hedgehog, was off doing his own thing.

He was probably with Team Dark or racing with Sonic. Or shopping with Amy.

…Actually, you were banking more on the first one.

While you were in the middle of watching Cutthroat Kitchen, you heard the sound of Shadow warping back into the house, causing you to pause your show.

“Hey Shads! Welcome back,” you say, turning around on the couch, away from the TV.

…Only to immediately turn back around.

“I- didn’t realize your gloves were off, sorry,” you mutter.

“…And why is that a big deal?” Shadow asks.

“Well, um- Mobians typically only take off their gloves around the people they deeply trust,” you explain. “And partners, of course.”

“Considering you’re my partner and I trust you, I don’t think it matters if I have my gloves off,” Shadow says.

“You’re…allowing me to see your hands?” you ask.

Shadow steps in front of you, holding out his hands, palm side up.

“Only if I get to see yours as well,” he states.

You immediately take off your gloves and hold his hands by the back, admiring them.

His hands are more like, well, human hands, but he has paw beans and noticeable claws.

Each of his beans are the same color as his hand, except for the big one in the middle, which is pink, and the one on his middle finger, which is red due to his arm stripe reaching up to his middle finger.

“Shadow. Your paw beans are adorable,” you tell him.

“Thank you?” he says.

You kiss the tip of his middle finger, causing his face to tint green slightly, before turning his hands over, now holding his palms.

On the back of his left hand is his symbol, while on the back of his right hand is a different marking. His stripe goes around the back of his hand to make a red-outlined rectangle, the inside of the rectangle reading in red letters, “P.S. 02.”

“P.S. 02?” you question.

“Project Shadow, the second attempt,” Shadow mutters.

“Oh,” you mutter. “Sorry for prying.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You were just curious.”

You pull his right hand up to your lips and give it a kiss as well, causing the green blush on Shadow’s face to become deeper.

You were starting to wish he would take his gloves off more often with how cute he was.

“Your hands are…much different than I thought they’d be,” Shadow says, holding yours up. “They’re more…paw-like.”

“Is that a compliment?” you ask.

“It is,” Shadow says. “They fit you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet to me, moonlight,” you tell him.

“Not as sweet as you are to me, sunshine,” Shadow replies with a small smile.

You give him a kiss on the cheek.

You couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

[m4iya]

Beach (Family outing: Twin boys and a girl)

Kuroo Tetsuro

Anon - from my 50 followers event

“Mommy, can I wear my new swim clothes?” Your 5 year old held out the frilly swimsuit that was amongst the numerous things Kuroo had recently spoiled her with. Giving her the okay, she skipped off into her room to change, only after attempting to wake her brothers up, who had been napping on the couch for half an hour after snarfing down breakfast.

“Five more minutes…” One groaned.

“Ten…” His twin replied.

“Kuroo, I need to finish prepping the snacks - could you wake the boys up?”

Kuroo, who had been wiping down the table perked his head up. “Sure, just a sec.”

He made his way to the sink, wetting his hands before walking over to the napping boys and flicking water onto their faces.

“Wakey-wakey!”

Groggily opening his eyes, one of the pair’s face contorted into a confused look. “Dad, why are your hands wet..?” Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he wiped his face down, complaining as he did so. Kuroo sent them to get ready, telling them of their plans to spend the day at the beach.

Sure, it had already been 10 years since they were born, but twins definitely aren’t easy to get used to. Somehow they’re always fighting over wanting the exact same thing, but not wanting the other to copy them; which is why most of their belongings are the same, only in different colours. Sometimes you’d take one of the boys shopping, encouraging him to pick out things he specifically liked, and getting Kuroo to do the same with the other son. Though, they still manage to find things to argue about, and this time it was their floaties and sand toys.

The five of you arrived beach after listening to your kids nagging at eachother for the duration of the car ride while you attempted to have a semblance of a conversation with Kuroo. He went ahead, setting up the beach tent while you placed the blanket underneath. The twins ran into the water together, splashing around, their gleeful laughter filling your ears. You opted to sit in the shade under the tent, watching them have fun together as your daughter played in the sand close by. Kuroo sat down next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“The older she gets, the more she looks like you, y’know?” He glanced over at the little girl in the as she shoveled sand into a bucket beside you both.

“The boys as well.” You chuckled. “From their eyes to the way they laugh. It’s like there’s two more of you.”

“But I can’t let them have my bed head.” He sighed. “That’s not something i want to be recognised by.”

You giggled, remembering how messy his hair used to be all throughout your childhood together. Only recently did he begin paying attention to his appearance, combing his hair at the very least.

The boys called out to him from the water, and he stood up to walk towards them. “Are you okay on your own?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

He took off towards the boys, making his way into the water as they splashed him incessantly. He’d prop one of the boys onto a floaty, thrusting him forward as he swam.

“Me next!” The other would squeal.

You took a few steps over to the sand where your daughter was playing.

“Don’t you want to jump in the water?” You asked, brushing a piece of hair out of her face.

“It’s okay. I wanna play in the sand with Mommy.” She handed you a bucket, instructing you to fill it with sand. “We’re gonna make a huge castle!” She chirped.

Playing with your daughter in the sand, hearing Kuroo’s laughter in the background as he splashed around with the twins; the environment brought you back to when you were young as well. Reminding you of when you’d come to this very beach with Kuroo, just the two of you as awkward teenagers.

But now, you’re both back here at the same beach, being reminded of your youth. Except this time, there are three new people bringing a plethora of memories to a place that already holds so many.

[butlervibesonly]

𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 || Austin Butler

• Summary: Y/n and Austin are expected their first baby… Hormones, changes of the body and other are not very comfortable to go through. But Austin is here to remind her that her body is miracle carrying another miracle.

• Pairing: Austin Butler x pregnant reader

• Warnings: pregnancy, self doubts about stretch marks, emotional hormones, …

You are now almost 6 months pregnant with your and Austin’s first baby. The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds, casting soft golden lines across the mirror in the bedroom that you two share as you stand in front of it. You are just changing into some more comfortable clothes.

You stand there now, just in your underwear and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your growing belly, round and full with the life you and Austin created. As you take a firm look at your belly, you notice something that hasn’t been there before.

Fain lines stretched across your skin, tracing gentle paths over your tummy. Your fingers hover over them. You of course knew pregnancy brings changes, but seeing them on your own body simply feels different. It makes everything more real… More permanent.

You barely hear the bedroom door open, while you caress your round belly. “Hey, love,” Austin’s voice was warm as he steps inside. He stops when he sees you standing there, both hands resting on your belly, eyes filled with uncertainty. “Is everything okay?”

You hesitate, then gesture towards your stomach. “Well… I have stretch marks, Aus…” Austin takes a look at your belly, seeing the lines that were made due to your skin stretching. He steps closer, looking at the reflection in the mirror. “Darling, those stretch marks? They're a sign of your beauty and strength, carrying our baby.”

“I know… I just… I didn’t expect these to show up this soon.” you try to laugh, but it came out thinner than you meant it to. “I look different.”

Austin frowns, not at you, but at the sadness you carry in your voice. He moves even closer, wrapping his arms gently around you from behind. Your reflections meet in the mirror, his hands now cradling the curve of your belly.

“You look absolutely beautiful…” Austin murmurs, his chin resting on your shoulder as he keeps watching the reflection of your body against him. “You don’t have to say that, Aus.” you sigh, knowing he wants to encourage you.

“No, I have to! I need to,” he states softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “These little marks, darling? They’re proof. Proof that you’re growing something incredible. That you’re strong. That your body is making room for our baby.” Austin meets your gaze in the mirror. “How could that be anything but beautiful?”

You blink to the warmth of his words. You turn in his arms, resting your forehead against his chest as he holds you close, the baby bump making it little bit hard for you to hug firmly. “Marks of love,” he adds rubbing slow circles over your belly. “That’s all I see.”

You smile now, his words melting your heart in the best way possible. “There's that beautiful smile. I love seeing you smile, love. But I also want you to know that I'm serious about this, okay?” he presses his hands on the sides of your round belly, looking into your eyes.

“You're doing something incredible and you deserve to feel like the goddess that you are. So please, let me make it up to you,” he continues to rub your belly, his words reassuring you more and more. You nod in acceptance, your hands covering his as you gaze down at the belly.

“Good. Now, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me you're beautiful.” Austin lifts your chin with his finger, making you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. You do so and take a deep breath. “I am… beautiful…”

“That's more like it! Now say it like you mean it.”

You smile at his stubbornness but you also feel the wave of support that you need. “I am beautiful…”

“Yes, you are. Say it again now, love. Let it sink in.” he stares at your eyes, searching for the confidence. “I am beautiful.” you say again, this time meaning it. Austin smiles, his hands moving to your stomach, his touch gentle and loving.

“That's right, love. You are beautiful! You're carrying our baby, and every stretch mark, every curve is a sign of your strength and love. You are absolutely astonishing, beautiful and amazing, and I will never stop telling you that.” he kneels in front of you, his hands never leaving your belly.

He actually brings your belly closer to him, his lips gently pressing against your soft skin. You smile widely at the feeling, as he now peppers your belly with nothing but kisses only. When he stands up, he takes your hands in his.

“Thank you, love…” you say softly, more encouraged and less self conscious. Austin smiles, one of his hands brushing your hair, while the other lands on your tummy once again. “You are very welcome, my dear. I will always make sure you and the baby are alright.”

You have been with Austin for many years now, and this man never fails to make you blush with the unconditional love you both carry for each other. “I love you, you know that, right? And I'll do everything in my power to make you feel loved, beautiful, and confident, now and always.”

“I love you too, my love.” you lean in and Austin meets you halfway, pressing his lips against yours. You two kiss passionately, filled with love, care and affection. Austin gently traces his fingers over your belly, his touch the softest it ever been.

"You know, few years from now, when our little one is running around, laughing, calling you 'Mom' with that big, bright smile, I hope you remember this moment, Y/n. I hope you remember that every change, every mark, every part of this journey was worth it. Because this? This is love the purest form. Your body is doing something I could never do…. Something incredible. I love you because of your incredible braveness and strength you have in you. So when you look in the mirror again, I hope you see what I see – a wonderful and beautiful woman that is carrying our whole world inside of her."

You wrap his arms round him, knowing this is what you craved to hear. He pulls you closer, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your hair. You always felt loved by Austin, but now you feel loved even more. And also beautiful and strong.

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[elleloquently]

i honestly don't even really like to talk about tlou2 but something that will absolutely baffle me until the end of time is how many people romanticize the farm sequence and view it as happy. every time someone says the game should've ended there or that ellie threw away her whole life and she could've been happy etc etc etc, it really makes me realize how many people do lack literacy and the ability to read between the lines. because how are you seeing the farm scenes and not realizing how devastating it is?? it feels so empty and lifeless.

yes ellie laughed and they listen to music and dance but those are such small snippets. anyone with severe ptsd / mental trauma can be okay for a moment. but ellie was quite literally killing herself on that farm and absolutely would've ended up dead by her own hand (which is not a crazy assumption to make it is quite literally context clues)

like she’s always been skinny and lean but she’s even more thin on the farm?? she literally says she doesn’t eat or sleep?? and the panic attacks that she has?

also when ellie says “i’m not like you dina” and dina instantly snaps back with “you think this is easy for me?” like no that’s not what is being insinuated at all, but the fact of the matter is that dina is still able to function and cope in healthy ways and ellie is not. and the fact that dina doesn’t understand that kinda kills me. also telling ellie to “prove it” when she tells dina that she loves her is so fucked considering everything.

she would’ve died! i will stand by this forever, ellie would not have lived much longer. (confirmed btw in directors commentary, ellie was severely suicidal at this point. so not sure how everyone views the farm as her happy point.)

i don’t think ellie had an obligation to suffer in silence for the sake of what dina wanted.

i don’t blame dina for leaving obviously, that was the best choice for her and i don’t blame ellie for going either!! i think their relationship is very doomed, it was quite literally built on years of miscommunication and it only continues as they’re together.

i don’t blame ellie for leaving the farm whatsoever, she did not “fumble dina,” she didn’t throw away her life, she was barely functioning in the first place. if the game ended with ellie on the farm and the last thing we saw of her was her trying to play house while knowing how much she was suffering, that would’ve been so damn depressing. her leaving may not be the “morally good” choice but it was necessary considering her own mental state.

i think it’s also so important to remember the way in which joel died. she’s not just grieving and dealing with survivors guilt, she’s also living with the brutality of what she experienced. watching the person she loved the most get brutally tortured/beaten to death while she was held down and begging for it to stop?? and you guys expect her to just move on and deal with it so she can keep living on this isolated farm and play happy family??

and it’s not like ellie was fine until tommy showed up. she was already on the edge. the evidence is in her behavior, her journal, the clues around her house (the whiskey glass at her bedside) and her literal mannerisms.

this is very messy and disorganized i just don’t understand how many people STILL oversimplify the farm stuff or act as though everything was happy and good. every time someone says that ellie owed it to dina to stay, i lose a year off of my life.

basically a ramble instead of a proper analysis/breakdown bc i’m trying to focus my energy elsewhere but hopefully it makes enough sense to be understood

[revelboo]

Revel I just wanna say you and other transformers x reader authors inspired me to not just get back into writing but straight up making a song for the first time. I genuinely feel like falling in love all over again when reading the way you describe these bots 🩷🩷🩷🫶

That’s amazing! I’m so happy you like how I write them and that you’re feeling creative!

Even If It Kills Me Pt 15

Armada Starscream x Reader

• “Can you sing for us?” Gritting his denta at your soft request and the pleading chirps from his mini-cons, he looks down at where you’re all sprawled on him as your own personal heated berth. And he’s pretty sure his warmth is all you’re after. The mini-cons are probably just following your lead. And his voice isn’t cut out for singing. You know that. But you’re staring up at him, making your eyes big and he doesn’t really have a defense against that look.

• Hear him venting in annoyance and it’s hard not to grin when he starts singing that same song in his growling, rough language. Laying your cheek on your arms, you feel him ghost a servo against your spine. His warmth and voice spilling through you. Haven’t been able to actually just tell him that he keeps the nightmares at bay. The thrum of his spark and the little sounds of his internal systems soothe you. You’re almost drowsing when he stops and you sleepily lift your head, smiling when he gently presses your head back down with a servo. “No more lullabies. Those are for sparklings. Recharge.” He’s used that word before. Sparklings. Told you his mini-cons weren’t sparklings and not to spoil them.

• “Does that mean babies?” You ask and he vents. Because you’re not resting which means he’s not resting. “Little, helpless you guys?” There’s something in your voice. More than curiosity, but he can’t pin down exactly what it is. “Do you have kids? Sparklings?”

• “There’ve been no new Cybertronians sparked since before the war,” he murmurs, optics shuttered. Baby, alien robots. Trying to imagine if they’re actually babies and tiny needing teaching and care or if they start out full size and ready to go. “If you mean me personally? No, I’m not a sire.” That’s a pity. You’ve seen how he watches over you and the mini-cons. “I’m not sure that we can even create new sparks anymore.”

• Growling softly when you push against his servos and sit up on him, he drapes an arm over his face. Why can’t you rest? He has patrol first thing. “I’m sorry.” Peeking at you, because why apologize for something that’s not your fault? And Primus. Why are you leaking? Can’t even begin to understand how your little, organic mind works sometimes. But you’re upset now. Because there are no new sparks? Do you realize his species is dying out?

• “Stop leaking,” he grumbles, reaching to swipe a servo against your cheek and you catch at it, hugging it to you. “Primus, you really do act like a sparkling.” Pressing your face against his hand, you can’t explain to him why you’re crying. Can’t even really explain it to yourself. Just needing to get it out of your system and he leans forward, sending the mini-cons scurrying and indignantly chirping as he vents to stir your hair. “Please, stop?”

• “Sorry,” you manage, smiling up at him. “I’m okay. Really.” You say that, but you’re still clinging to his servo like he’s safety. And you’re not okay, he’s sure of that. Wants to ask, but something about your expression makes the words fail him. Realizing that this isn’t as simple as sharing old scars. This is something else entirely. Watches you scrub at your face, avoiding his optics, then open your arms for Runway, the mini-con immediately cuddling up against you. What had that been about?

Previous

[transformers-spike]

You put Breakdown with a gutbuster in my head, and now I need. For him to use it. On me. (Aka reader)

Bonus points if it's disgustingly cute and sweet and BD gets lots of love and praise. 🥹🥺

I overdid it. Again. Thank you @drunkeninlovesailor for beta-reading this fic and smacking some sense into me when self-doubt reared its ugly head. And I will go on to say @ss-shitstorm made me adore Breakdown so much more through Breaking Bread. I look up pictures of him and cry And yes, this is a sequel to Visitors - so back to the heatverse

Knock Out always goes first. Breakdown doesn’t mind it. At least he shouldn’t. He knows he’ll have his turn with you. Everyone does.

Second or seventh place, it doesn’t matter. He should be grateful to have a chance. Just like he should be grateful he didn’t lose more than one optic. Or the feeling in his left arm. Or his honor.

Again, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. It’s his turn. No superior waiting at your habsuite, no humiliating dismissal (obviously, they don’t mean for it to seem humiliating – they’re his superiors after all, and he has to obey them) – only you in the midst of your heat cycle.

The “breeding room”, as you jokingly call it, is actually Knock Out’s old habsuite. Repurposed, yeah, but he’s been here enough times to recognize it. Any Con worth their ball-bearings can upgrade after reaching third class. Knock Out used to be a first class. Then he was promoted to Chief Medical Officer and skipped a rank. Breakdown is stuck in second class. Better than first. Better than being a vehicon. He should be satisfied.

You’re curled up in your oversized berth on top of the heating pad. “Hey, squishy,” he whispers, taking his usual place next to you. “Don’t tell me Knock Out tired you out.” Your answer is a snort. You stretch, flesh poking out from under your frame coverings. A common sight by now, but his cooling fans didn’t get the memo. His frame vibrates with their familiar hum.

“Like what you see handsome?” you ask and scuttle up to him, wearing that precious spark-warming smile. He returns it full force.

“What can I say? Even a one-opticced oaf can recognize true beauty.” “Careful, partner. There’s only so much I can take before jumping on your spike.” He barks a laugh. “It may come sooner than you think.” “Bring it. I’m ready to deepthroat until your system reboots. But first -” you huff as you climb into his lap, waving away the servo he’s offering. Once comfortably seated in his lap, you cheekily rub your aft against his interface panel.

“Spill the tea, sis.”

“Hmph…” He drums his digits over his thigh. “We’ve had a record break in the mines! I haven’t seen them this happy in quartexes. There was a small party at homebase, squad’s been celebrating with engex.”

“Homemade?”

“Nah – I’ve checked. I won’t let them pull that stunt again.” He winces at the memory. B15F. Poor scrapper’s been euthanized well before his time. There wasn’t much left to save. The engex melted right through his fuel tanks. Breakdown didn’t pride himself on morality anymore – none of them did. But it was the right call – even if the uncertainty is tearing through his circuitry like a horde of scraplets. Could Knock Out have fixed B15F? Or maybe it would’ve just dragged out his suffering for a chance at nothing. His conjunx had studied at a bigshot academy – Breakdown’s knowledge’s based around rushed medical training. “You okay, big guy?” He snaps out of it. “Yeah! Everything’s good.” You can’t see his reassuring smile with his massive chassis in the way. But maybe if he keeps it up he’ll really mean it.

“You sure? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” His smile falters. If a human has noticed it… who else has? Is this why Dreadwing’s been especially tolerant of his mistakes? Scrap, Breakdown almost misses his commanding officer’s reproaches. Could he get any more pitiful for frag’s sake? Proving himself after losing an optic to fleshies is bad enough. He’s not an invalid – he won’t be demoted to janitorial duties after working his aft off to make it this far.

“Workload’s been pretty intense. Been on my mind a lot.” He adds a chuckle to convince you – but he can’t see your expression with his chassis in the way.

“Bad enough for the vehicons to get blackout drunk again?”

“Found them recharging in mine carts.”

“Just like a college frat party, huh?” He has no idea what that means. Doesn’t stop him from laughing, though. “You should’ve seen them getting out! The sight brought lubricant to my optic.” “Scrambling like turtles stuck on their backs?” Oh – those, he definitely remembers. “Better. Remember that video you sent of the cat-looking thing surrounded by fermented fruits?” “The raccoon?” “Yeah! Struggling to sit up, then falling back in again!” You snort louder. “Ah. An absolute classic. You should totally film it next time, I would kill to see it.” “Oof. I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can do that while on shift. Ask Soundwave. Nothing escapes him.” Especially any contamination of the medbay – his processor shudders at the memory. At least it wasn’t Commander Starscream. Fooling around’s been kept to Knock Out’s habsuite ever since. And outside the ship, but that’s not the Intelligence Officer’s business.

“More than you know…” you say. Your tiny digits sneakily stroke the protomatter between his hip and thigh. The touch isn’t sensual. At least he doesn’t think it’s supposed to be. You’re not shy about squeezing, biting or running your glossa over it. This feels different. Hesitant.

“You know… you rarely visit first.” He sputters. “It’s not that I don’t want to or anything!” He shifts his frame and cranes his neck to take a good look at you. No success. “It’s that… I’m still a soldier, and they’re my superiors.” “I know that, silly. I’m talking about how you always let Knock Out have the first go at me before either of your shifts start. Why is that?” “I…” He shakes his helm. “Come on, second place doesn’t make any difference. As long as I get to pay you a visit, I’m happy!” His vox is strained. He meant to sound cheerful. What came out felt like rust being scraped off mesh.

You sink your digits into his thigh. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt. A single fleshie can’t hurt a Cybertronian. But it’s clearly meant as a warning. Even he can tell that.

“Dude, just ask to go first. Knock Out is lovely and all, but you shouldn’t neglect yourself for his sake. I want you to come around and let loose before anyone else. Hell, you deserve it. Do you want me to ask Megatron personally? I can do that, no prob-” “No!” It comes out too desperate. “No,” he repeats. Softer. “The others don’t do well with favorites. Uh… except maybe Soundwave, but he doesn’t count.” Breakdown cringes. He wants no part in their power struggles, especially Commander Starscream’s. Else he’d end up at the barrel of his Master’s cannon.

“Okay… but my point still stands. Ask Knock Out to reschedule next time orr I’m bringing Megatron into this.” His vents huff, servos drawn into fists.

“Got it,” he relents. “I’ll talk to him, but if he refuses-” “He won’t refuse,” you say none-too-softly. “We’ve had a chat post-coitus.” He blinks. “You cannot be serious.” “Low and behold, I am. What? Did you expect me not to address it?” “He’s going to be furious at me.” “Like hell . If he so much as lifts a digit, I’ll be happy to inform Megatron and get him put in his place. He’s your superior in the medbay, not outside of it last I checked. And trust me, I’ve been checking.” He clenches his jaw and offlines his optic. “We’re not…” he starts gently, leveling his words carefully. “We’re not Newsparks. There’s a balance we’ve established on the Nemesis. All of us. Bringing Lord Megatron into this won’t offset the balance. It’ll destroy it. What we have here,” he gestures at the small habsuite. “Is thanks to his generosity. I don’t want to lose this because of some petty interface stuff. If he intervenes… I doubt we’ll still be able to visit.” There’s a long pause. He gives you the time to mull it over. An apology already on his glossa. “I understand. I know it’s not my place to call the shots. Part of me wishes that…” You swallow. “Part of me wishes that I could make things easier for you guys. You’ve all been through so much, and I know I’m only the ship’s resident pet or whatever, but I can throw my weight around a bit. You know, use my position for good?” “For good? Primus, you’re already doing us enough good!” “Hm, not exactly. You’re the ones helping me with my heat when he’s not around. Ugh – I would be suffering without you guys.” You squeeze his thigh. “Man-” you laugh nervously. “I hope I’m not getting too sappy. You’re, like, the only one I can have these conversations with.” His fans stutter. “Really? Not even Lord-” “Not even,” you repeat with finality. There’s a comfortable silence. Breakdown is smiling to himself.

“Hey, big guy.” “Yeah, squishy?” “Wanna kiss?” “Is that even a question?” he asks as he picks you up from his lap, servos cradling your fragile human frame. “Mmm, you know the answer.” You touch the sides of his face. His cooling fans flip to the second setting. Your hands are soft. Incredibly soft. His vents cease functioning entirely as you kiss him. Your glossa is warm and wet. His circuits crackle with charge. How could something so small push his systems into overdrive? When you pull away, he’s left cold and yearning. You don’t waste a klik undressing yourself, tossing your frame coverings over his servos and onto the berth. His lips find yours again. You devour his intake like your fuel tanks are empty.

Knock Out satiated you groons ago, but you’re already running hot with want. His heavy engine purrs. “Someone’s eager to get spiked,” he mutters against your intake. You ex-vent sharply and kiss again, grinning against his lips. He slides a digit between your legs, which you immediately part. There’s still feeling in this one, taking in the heat of your slick valve. There’s no trace of your last interface, only a craving for more. A hiss escapes you as he rubs the digit over your minuscule anterior node. Your hips buck into him, teeth grazing his lip.

“Please, stop teasing already. You know I can’t take it.” “I’m not a tease - that’s Knock Out’s job.” He swipes his glossa over your intake. “I’m the total opposite. So, what do you say? Is your little valve ready to take my spike?” Your optics widen, lubricating in excitement. “Oh finally!” You press your helm against his. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this! I’m so glad the recent energon haul got you enough to mass displace.” “Actually, I’ve been rationing my energon for a deca-cycle!” You step away from his helm and look at him in… strange horror. “You what?” There’s pity in your optics and disappointment furrowing your optical ridge.

Oh frag him! Why did he have to open his intake? “It’s nothing to worry about, I swear! I’ve done this plenty of times in the past – there was this time my unit was stranded in the Sea of Rust and there was no energon for almost a whole deca-cycle! Impressive, right? You don’t see any seekers surviving that!” Your horrified expression worsens. “What do you mean you’ve been starving yourself for weeks just to mass displace and fuck me?”

“Come on, it’s not really starving! We bots can deal with it better than you humans!” he stammers, engine revving in panic. “It’s not about that – it’s about sacrificing yourself for… for this!” you gesture at your body. “Fuck’s sake, you could have told me! I was waiting for you to ask! I could have gotten you the energon ages ago!” “Then why didn’t you?” The words smash through his intake before he can stop them, leaving him to clean up the mess.

His spark tightens when you flinch. It’s the first time he’s startled you. The first time he’s seen you scared. “I… I didn’t…” Your gaze falls. “Scrap, I’m so sorry! It’s not my place to say it, I didn’t mean-” “It’s fine,” you gently stop him. He immediately yields. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… didn’t expect it to be this bad.” A sigh leaves your intake. “I still want to help, though. If Knock Out can mass displace almost every time he visits, isn’t there plenty of energon to go around? Don’t you also work in the medbay on top of everything? You deserve at least the same amount of rations.” “It’s more complicated than that,” he mutters. “Knock Out outranks me.” “So? You’re just one bot, it won’t drain the reserves.” He presses a servo to his helm. “My frame type’s the issue. Us warrior class bots need far more energon than the average vehicon.” “Yes, and? You’re still just one more war frame. Who else is there? Megatron, Dreadwing – that makes three.” You bite your lip when you meet his optic. “Let me give you a hand. I’ll leave the whole thing with Knock Out alone if you let me help with this.” “I…” His vents huff. “Okay. I’ll let you take care of it. But, please tell him not to summon me. Else it’ll seem suspicious.” A smile tugs at the corner of your intake. “Got it. Easier done than said.” Hesitating, you reach out to touch his cheekplate. He leans in. You take a deep in-vent. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that. I’ve been so worried about everyone lately, I’ve overstepped so many boundaries. The energon thing just… drove me off the edge.” “It’s okay,” he says, unsure of his own words. “It happens to the best of us. If it’s any comfort,” he grimaces, “Knock Out’s been riding my tailpipe about my energon intake for the whole deca-cycle. That’s why I… tried to keep it a secret. Until now.” “Did it work on him?”

“Frag no!” He laughs. “For all his drawbacks, he’s the closest thing to a doctor on this ship. Noticing something’s wrong’s part of his primary code!” His laughter dies down. “Sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I definitely ruined the mood.” “Not at all.” You press your cheek against his. “If it’s any comfort on my part, I’ve been called someone else’s name during interface.” His optic buzzes in its socket. “Who?” he demands without meaning to. “Who?” He repeats, far softer – now a polite question. “No one in High Command, sadly,” you say like you’ve read his mind, adding an apologetic shrug. “Another human before the alien shebang happened.” “Ah.” He averts his optic to hide his disappointment. “Come on, man. You know I would have immediately rung you up if Starscream had been moaning Megatron’s name during overload.” He cracks a smile. “I guess you’re right.” “Gossip girls forever?” You offer your fist. “Gossip girls forever,” he agrees, tapping it with his digit. You both mimic an explosion and draw your servos away in slow motion. “Still not sure what explosive punches have to do with gossip.” “Shhh - it’s a human bestie thing.” You kiss him again. Gently at first, then harsher with his wordless encouragement – your hunger makes his engine rev. “Want to start with valve to glossa action? How about we keep mass-displacement for the final course?” “Like I’ll ever refuse a free refueling.” You snicker. The noise is so precious it makes his joints weak. Lying on his abdomen with you in his servos, you writhe as he presses his glossa to your valve. “Fuck,” you hiss. “You okay?” he’s unable to hide the smugness in his tone. “I thought Knock Out had the first taste.” “ Fuck , Knock Out. I need your glossa right now. No one else’s.” His fans shudder. Once, handling someone so small was circuit-frying. He’d been with plenty of minicons, but never an organic. Those bots could take a good pounding. Fleshies? Not so much.

“Fuck.” You shiver as his glossa rubs up and down your pretty valve. Your hips buck into it. He grins between your legs and licks again. And again. And again. Until he feels your servos on his crest. “I need to ride your face,” you say – more declaration than request. He blinks, grin widening. “That desperate, huh?” “Shut up,” you growl – too adorable for your own good. How he wants to squeeze and smother you against his face. Your legs are soft on either side of his cheeks, servos gripping onto his crest with impressive strength for a creature so small and frail. He holds his glossa out for you to use as you please, two digits holding your hips in case you tumble off. “How…” You pant. “How are you this good?” He shrugs with his free arm. His vents blast harder. “I’m not even doing anything,” he mumbles with his glossa out. “Of course you are. You’re being your sweet himbo self,” your words falter as you keep riding. 

His cheekplates heat up. “Uh, a what now?”

There’s no answer, only your legs shaking as you furiously grind against his intake. You grip onto his crest, your entire frame shaking. “Breakdown!” you call out, vox breaking. A sudden burst of charge travels down his interface array. His pressurized spike clanks against his panel. “Frag,” he groans. His spike’s throbbing, Ugh, it hurts like he swung it against a wall.

At least you’re oblivious to his, uh, mishap – twitching against his glossa while trying to slow your ventilation. The plating of hips shifts and his panels release his array. His valve is soaking with transfluid, steam almost emanating off of it after overheating for half a groon. The cold air makes his spike twitch. “Is it… is it time?” you ask weakly, turning around to look at his lap. “Oh hey, so that’s where the noise came from.” He cringes, but still helps you get down. You scurry towards the middle of the berth and cheer out “Show me the goods, big boy!” Mass displacement is something he’d done in the past – back on Cybertron when there was plenty of energon to go by. Now it’s just a waste. Not for you, obviously! Primus, you’re worth every last drop. His working receptors buzz with sensation. System diagnostics appear at the corner of his vision. Mass conversion: successful

Warning:

Minimum energon required: 70%

Current level: 93% His joints are calibrated, there’s no ache in his processor, subspace feels fine – everything’s in working order. He can rest easy and focus on the important stuff. “Woah.” you beam at him. It’s uncanny to see you… so much bigger than he’s used to.

The hug is sudden but not unwelcome. Your helm comes up to his chassis, but only barely. It doesn’t take long for you to pull him on top (the close view is to offline for), and drag him into a kiss. His spark pulsates like never before.

“Please, spike me,” you beg. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He looks down at his spike. Then back at you. There are many things he’s learned as a nurse, one of which being: pick the smallest pair of forceps when operating on minicons. Sadly, he cannot replace his spike with a smaller one. But he can prepare you for the operation. “Hey, how about I get you started with something else before you get the hammer?” He lifts up the servo with functioning receptors and flexes his digits. “Promise you’ll rail me afterwards.” “Promise.” He grins.

He’s a denter first and all, but he’s always been careful with his servos back when brushing debris off his comrades after a busted demolition job. It felt like second nature to him. They were at the bottom of the scrapheap. Caring for others, even in small ways, made their plight bearable. His own at least. He pushes in, chuckling as you furrow your optical ridge, intake slightly agape. “Does it sting?” “No.” Another digit is carefully added. You whimper and grit your dentae. One digit and a half then. “What about now? How do you rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?” “Oh shut up…” Your tiny valve is absolutely soaked, slick with human lubricant, struggling to accommodate him. If you’ve taken the entire High Command, you can take him. Sure, he’s been told his spike is a “weapon forged by Solus herself”, but Megatron’s definitely bigger. And you’ve fragged him. Everyone knows that. Your valve’s more durable than it seems.

You clench around his digits, expression so lovely it’s clear you’re about to overload. He cautiously curls a digit inside of you. The gentle pressure’s an easy way to make your valve calipers clam down on him. Another whimper escapes you as he rubs at the spot. Your pedes push against his thighs, a desperate plea to stop. But he knows better. “Cute,” he thinks as your sweet noises intensify. He never expected fleshies to be so adorable – but then again, you’re not like the other squishies. Lord Megatron picked the best one. “Please,” you whisper. “This is torture.” “Aw, I thought you wanted to overload.” “You and I…” You swallow. “We both know damn well you’re teasing me. I need your spike, not… not this .”

He laughs. “I keep my promises, don’t worry about it.” He pulls you flush against him, legs over his hips. Bracing himself on one servo, he’s got an arm cautiously wrapped around your waist. “Comfortable? How do you rate your position on a scale from 1 to-” “Breakdown, I swear to fu-” “Got it. It’s hammer time.” He grins. You grip onto his digits and offline your optics. He pushes in. You suck in a sharp in-vent. He pauses.

“Go on,” you say after a moment. “I can take it. I guess I didn’t expect it to be so big.” “Big?” He blinks at you. “You’re the one taking Lord Megatron. He’s larger than me.” “Not his spike.” You chuckle. He looks up at the ceiling in wonder. “Wow.” “Wow indeed. Now please put that spike to good use.” Like a good soldier and seasoned interface partner, he follows your orders. Ridge by ridge, you take him, grip tightening and dentae gritting until he reaches your limit. He shudders. You’re clenching around him like a cold press, crushing his spike harder than any minicon valve. You seem on the verge of shutting down. “You okay?” “...yeah.” “Do you want me to stop?” “Don’t you dare.” “Got it.” His smile widens.

The pace is incredibly slow. Yeah, Knock Out likes having his circuits rearranged – and yeah, most vehicons he’s been with want to get railed into oblivion. But taking his time with you feels just as good. Charge is building along his array. He wants to tell you so many things – how you’re so beautiful holding onto him like he’s the center of your universe, whimpering and repeating his name listlessly – or how he wishes this could last forever, that he can forget the war when your arms are wrapped around his frame, no matter how small.

Your optics come back online and meet his. Wordlessly, you beckon him closer. He leans down, now bracing himself on his arm. Your servos find his face. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?” you ask, nuzzling his cheekplate. It’s not the first time you’ve done so. But at this moment, either from mass displacement or the sight of you sprawled out before him (or both), his spark throbs in his chassis. His array is pulsating with charge. He presses his forehelm against yours. “Yeah. You always do.” “Good. Because I love you.” Your lips meet his. The charge explodes. Your valve clamps down on his spike. Sparks shoot through his sensors – his engine roars. The world stands still.

Then, he breaks the silence. “By…” his vox crackles with static. He recalibrates his vocalizer. “By Alchemist Prime…” there’s still a buzz to his words. “What was that?” “You tell me,” you answer shakily. Neither of you move for a while. Diagnostics report: Energon level: 87% He pulls out of you, earning a wince. You loosen your grip on his neck and fall back. His optics widen at the load of transfluid trickling out, valve still twitching. He feels equal parts pride and wonder something so small took his spike. Should he tell you about it? You appreciate greatly when he says what’s on his processor. Not everyone does. “Good job,” he tells you, petting your helm like the human he saw congratulating its furry companion. Your expression spells confusion. Then, you grin wider than he’s ever seen and pet him back. His engine rumbles in content. “I would die for you,” you declare without a hint of sarcasm in your vox. He laughs nervously. “Please don’t, Lord Megatron would kill me.” “Then I’d kill him first.” “But you’d already be dead.” “I’d come back as a ghost.” He laughs again, twice as nervous. “Anyway, was it… good?” “You blew my back out.” “I – what ?” “You rearranged my guts.” “Wait, are you about to offline-” “Human euphemisms.” “Oh.” “It means it was the best frag of my life.” “I… oh wow.” He allows you to pull him back on top. “You’re the best I could have asked for.” His cooling fans are blasting. “Um…” “You’re my favorite blueberry popsicle.” “Uh, thanks?” “I love it when you’re blue in the face.” More energon rushes to his cheeks.

“Oh, um – you too!” Frag - that didn’t sound smooth. He hasn’t been this bad since he was newly forged. “Raspberry and blueberry,” you press your helm against his. “My favorite mix.” You kiss him again, less desperately – finally satiated for the next cycle. Or at least a few groons. “Can you cuddle in this form?” Or…do you have to turn back?” He hits his chassis with pride. “Another groon won’t hurt me – I’ll do just fine..” “Aw hell yeah!” He lies down and you quickly take your place at his side, burying your face in the crook between his neck and his chassis. You let out a hum when his digits stroke your back. He can sense the minuscule hairs on your plating. They tickle.

A klik passes by, but you can’t seem to sit still. You push his arm away, readjust yourself, then pull it back in, only to start again a nanoklik later. “Everything ok?” You make a noise of frustration – so adorable it makes his spark ache.

“Give me a sec,” you mutter.

He watches as you get up to fetch your blanket and pillows. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I barely managed to clean up before coming over.” “Don’t matter.” You cover his side in them. “I just want to cuddle you.” He bites his glossa. You’re too sweet for your own good. Once comfortable, his servo comes back to stroke your skin. You shiver. “Are you cold? Do you want me to get the heating pad?” “No. You’re warm enough. It just… feels nice to be with you this way. I meant what I said. I do love you. Maybe not on Knock Out’s level – he’s known you before my great grandparents were even born.” He affectionately taps your helm. “I mean, yeah – but what does that have to do with us? Do you humans have a monogamous contract or something?” Your expression says it all. “Oh,” he drawls. “Uh – it doesn’t mean that you can’t be with us, it’s that-” “I’m Megatron’s first and foremost,” you say, looking away from him and straight at the wall. “I… yes. But I mean that-” “I’m together with everyone. I know that.” You turn your attention back to him. “And no, it doesn’t bother me. I simply want to give you the praise you deserve. And the energon. Man, you need that so badly.” Resting your helm atop his chassis, you flash him a warm smile. “I love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

[i-dared-myself]

Home At Last

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: i have a request idea, if that's okay! 😋 how about the skz boys group-hugging their precious 9th member on stage after she gets emotional - because it's their first time ever performing at her home country (you can leave the country unspecified, so that everyone can relate better)? 🥹

“It’s wonderful to be back,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. It’s cliché, but you don’t know what else to say. “Thank you all so much for coming! And it’s just-“

Your words catch in your throat. Minho shifts in place from beside you.

“This is what I worked for. To be able to get preform at home.” You glance out at the crowd. “And I love being able to share this moment with all of you. Thank you all for your support.”

Chan raises the microphone to his mouth as you lower yours. “I would like to thank you all for making such a wonderful member. She’s such a valued member of our group.”

Hyunjin grins. “Although she steals my moisturizer.”

The audience laughs. You elbow Hyunjin’s side teasingly, fighting down the wave of emotions.

“It’s been such an honour to have her,” Chan continues, flashing his dimples, “and I know her family is in the crowd, so I would like to thank you personally for letting her join. I know going such long time without seeing your family is tough, so thank you.”

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. You just know you’re going to have a bunch of texts about how sweet he is later.

“They were so happy to add my home as a tour location,” you happily say. It’s hard to keep your voice steady, overcome by your feelings. “So I hope to do my best and- and show you all it was worth it. I’m sorry for leaving.”

“Ah, I know how it feels.” Felix sighs heavily and puts his water bottle down. “I felt bad for leaving my family, as well. But they’re proud of me, just as I know your family is of you.”

“I’m proud of you!” Jeongin brightly says, sticking his hand up. The crowd roars a bit, clearly in awe of how adorable he is.

“Suck up,” Seungmin murmurs. 

You snort in amusement and duck around a sweaty Changbin as he tries to throw his arm over your shoulder. “Ew! No!”

“Come here!” Changbin laughs, chasing you in circles around Jisung. Felix eventually takes pity on you and takes the majority of the blow, stepping in front of Changbin and getting the sticky hug.

Chan clears his throat. “Anyways, I hope all of you don’t hate me for taking such a beloved person from you. I know I would hate if anyone took her from us.”

You can feel the corners of your eyes pricking with the threat of tears. You smile sheepishly and shield your face with your hands.

“Speaking of taking things,” Hyunjin cuts in, “my moisturizer is pretty expensive.”

“Hush,” you tell him. “You have more of it.”

Minho sits, splaying his legs out. Jisung joins him on the ground, resting his head in his lap.

“Anything else to say?” Chan turns to you, expression soft.

Your lips wobble as you lift the microphone to your mouth. “Just that I’m so glad to finally preform at my home.”

Seungmin shoves you, and you’re about ready to snap at him, when you realize you’re falling into Jisung and Minho. They catch you and check that you’re okay before Changbin is heaving you to your feet.

You’re passed around, member to member, receiving a hug from each. You think your head is about to explode from how warm your cheeks feel, but you hope you look level-headed.

You finally reach Chan and let out a muffled sob against his chest. You take a deep breath before he releases you and everyone takes their places for the first song.

You exchange a look with Felix, who beams at you.

“We’ll have a proper cuddle pile later,” he promises. 

Sorry this is so short, I’m sick right now. I keep waking up from fever-driven dreams about being stuck in a car seat flying through the sky. That thinking man statue keeps telling me I need to find a duck, so I’m about ready to not be sick anymore.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret

[wriokitty]

#FAILBLOGGER FAVS — NOW CLOSED

As promised, for my silly Valentine’s Day event, we’re going to switch the roles and have our favs be the chronically online failbloggers <3 this is open to all my followers we don’t have to be mutuals for you to take part so everyone come join ;)

disclaimer: pleaseeeeee read this post all the way through before you send an ask pretty pretty pleaseeee

WHAT I NEED:

Send me an ask and tell me a selfship of yours (please just one) and what the dynamic/lore is—just give me a decent amount of relevant info so I know what the ship is like. If you’re only a reader, tell me your favorite fanfic tropes, preferred word count range, and if you like to read sfw, nsfw, dark content, or all of the above. If you’re a writer, please include the previous info regarding the fics you read and write (I know, I know. A lot of typing, but it makes a difference I promise. To Me it does.) Please, and I can’t stress this enough, include whether or not you’re comfy with dark content because that will severely change the direction I take things

WHAT YOU GET (PLEASE PICK ONE ONLY):

OPTION 1 — get a detailed description of how you and your fav become mutuals on tumblr and what they’re like on dash, what sort of asks they’d send you, what vents they’d make, who they’d beef with and block (as in other characters not real ppl btw lol), and what discourse they’d get themselves into

OPTION 2 — get a detailed description of what they’d be like if they wrote fanfiction about you and selfshipped with you. This includes how they might characterize you, if their forte is sfw, nsfw, dark content, etc., if they’re non sharing or sharing, who they’d beef with over you, how many comms they’d get, and plenty more idk I’ll come up with it as I go LOL

SLOTS: CLOSED — 15/15 TAKEN — for now I’m doing 15 but I might reopen for a few more when I’m done!!

FANDOMS: main fandoms include genshin, hsr, love and deepspace, jjk, bnha, and I suppose haikyuu and bllk are okay too

ANYWAYYY this is superrrr silly and unserious but I think it’s fun and would get a few good giggles from everyone so ;) anyway this doubles as sort of a milestone event too bc I’ve yet to do one after a good few milestones so ty everyone for following me and being friends with little old me <3

[allisluv]

blurb idea!! your children (two girls one boy) plan a dinner date for you and finnick! they have a table set up on the porch and a whole menu (5 and 7 year old’s handwriting) of gourmet meals (grilled cheese and tomato soup) for the both of you. they dress up in their nicest clothes while they play chefs and waiter. i can imagine desert just being two scoops of ice cream and a chocolate chip cookie 😭. but nonetheless, the children receive all of the earned extra cuddles and kisses before bed for their effort🤗.

grilled cheese and tomato soup.

pairing: finnick o'dair x wife!reader

content warnings: pre-established relationship (duh), finnick and reader have three children (kai, cordelia and marina), set post war, not edited, minor angst at the beginning but it's only for like three paragraphs i promise, other than that, it's just pure fluff <3

word count: 1.4k

Summers are always warm in District Four, and beads of sweat roll down the back of your neck as you sit at your vanity table and slowly but surely add the finishing details to your latest project for work. The window is cracked open to let a breeze in, but even that in itself is warm.

Finnick is folding laundry and putting it away into the wardrobe. As the two of you work away in silence, you can hear the occasional giggle or squeal from your three children, reminding you that they’re fine in the other room.

You’re the first to notice that their laughter has seemed to fizzle out, and dread fills your veins as you pluck the pen from between your teeth and set it down on the table. “Finnick.”

He must take note of the panic in your voice, because he immediately stops what he’s doing. “Are you okay?” He asks, brows furrowed as he maneuvers around the king sized bed and stops at your side. He tilts your head in his direction and coaxes you into looking at him when he tips your chin upwards. “Talk to me.” His voice is steady and even, and it helps ground you.

“I can’t hear them.” You choke out, pressing a hand over your heart. Every single instinct in your body tells you to move, but your feet are rooted to the floor. “The kids. I can’t hear them anymore. I can’t hear them laughing.” You gesture to the bedroom door that leads into the other rooms.

Finnick strains to listen, and he realises that he can’t hear them, either. Still, he remains calm; he knows that freaking out will not prove to be any good for either one of you. “It’s okay. That’s more of a mischevious silence that anything.” He teases, mentally reminding himself that everything is alright. Coin and Snow are both dead. There are no more games. They’re safe now. “Come on. Lets go see what those three are up to.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat and grip his hand. Finnick squeezes once then twice, a silent reassurance that he is there with you.

When you don’t move an inch, he puts a steady hand on your lower back and steers you out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. The sound of childish whispering meets both of your ears and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in the first place.

Finnick offers you a small smile as he slowly feels the dread being pulled out of his body. “There. See?” He presses his lips to your forehead. “It’s all okay. I mean, they might burn the house down if we don’t go see what they’re up to, but they’re okay.”

You laugh and lean into his touch as he cups your cheek in his hand. He presses another lingering kiss to your forehead before using his hip to push open the kitchen door and stepping inside.

“Daddy!” Your youngest, Cordelia, screams, and abandons whatever she was doing in favour of running through the length of the kitchen towards her father.

Finnick lets go of your hand to catch Cordelia when she throws herself at him. Hoisting her onto her hip, he boops her on the house, and grins when she dissolves into a fit of giggles. “What have you three been up to, hm?” Cordelia buries her face in the crook of his neck instead of answering, and he lets out a hum. “Something mischevious then, I’m assuming.”

You shake your head fondly and peek your head around the corner, where the twins, Marina and Kai, are wearing their best clothes and arguing over the George Forman maker.

“I should do it!” Marina protests, cocking her hip out.

“I’m older!” Kai retorts with just as much overexaggeration.

“By, like, three minutes! And you’ve never used the grilled cheese maker before.”

“Then show me!”

“You’re seven.”

“So are you.”

You laugh from where you’re standing and their little heads whip around so fast that you wonder if they gave themselves whiplash. “Technically speaking, neither of you should be using that. It’s too dangerous. And get off that chair before you break a bone, please, Mari.”

Marina does as she was told and uses her brothers shoulder to steady herself as she clambers back down with a huff. She stirs a pot with something inside of it, while Kai tries his best to distract you with his award-winning puppy-dog eyes.

Kai tugs on the bottom of your sweatpants. “Mommy.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Come with me.” He demands. You raise a brow. “Please.” He adds, and you relent, letting him take you by the hand and lead you out of the kitchen. He collects Cordelia and his dad on the way to the back door, and then he pushes down on the handle and opens it, pushing both Finnick and you out onto the patio.

Golden fairy lights have been poorly strung up around the wooden bannisters that allow you a bit of privacy and a linen tablecloth has been draped across the patio table. Two chairs are perched on either side of the table, instead of the usual five, and an unlit candle is positioned in the middle.

Cordelia’s chewing on her fingers, but takes them out of her mouth long enough to say, “Ta-da!”

You look around incredously, trying to take in the transformation of your back patio. “What’s all this for, hm?” You ask as Kai pushes you to sit in one of the chairs and then moves to do the same with his father. Finnick laughs but goes willingly, settling in the seat opposite you.

Kai stands up straight before shooting his little sister a pointed look and gesturing for her to stand up and get off of their father’s lap. Cordelia pouts but does as asked, sulking next to Kai. “We have made you dinner.” He announces.

Finnick arches an eyebrow and glances at you from across the table. You shrug, instructing him to go along with it. “Is that so?” Kai nods earnestly. Finnick leans forward in his chair, rests his chin in the palm of his hand, and indulges his son. “So, waiter, what’s on the menu tonight?”

Kai pulls a crumpled pad of paper out of his pocket and you stifle a laugh into your hand. Kai looks at you, not impressed in the slightest. “It is not funny, Mommy.” You school your expression and nod to let him know that he has your full attention. Finnick snickers. “We have tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

You gasp dramatically. “No dessert?”

Kai rolls his eyes, ever the moody one. “That’s a surprise, Mommy.” He says as if it was obvious.

“Oh, yes, silly me.”

Kai pretends to look at his non-existent watch. “I got to go.” He takes Cordelia’s hand and leaves without another word.

You and Finnick break into hysterics the second your children are out of earshot and you reach for his hand across the table. He brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses your wedding band. “Well, at least we can’t say they never did anything for us.” He muses.

You laugh. “No, I suppose we can’t.”

The both of you sit in a comfortable, loving silence until Kai, Cordelia and Marina come out with a bowl of tomato soup and a bread roll for each of you. Cordelia sneaks back onto her dad’s lap, robs his bread roll, and munches away on it happily.

Kai pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters under his breath about how, “Its impossible to find the staff these days,” before marching back into the kitchen.

“I swear, that kid is an old man reincarnated,” You giggle.

Finnick hums his agreement and blows on a spoonful of soup to feed Cordelia.

As promised, the next course is a grilled cheese sandwich that is practically as hard as a rock and disintegrating in your hands. Nevertheless, both you and Finnick reassure Marina that you prefer it that way.

Cordelia spills the secret on dessert, but the two of you promise not to tell Kai and Marina that you know. Both of you put on your best surprised faces when two scoops of vanilla ice-cream and two chocolate chip cookies are served, and the kids are none the wiser.

Finnick gives the three of them a well-deserved massive slice of chocolate cake and a mug of hot cocoa each for their effort. You and Finnick take them to the beach to burn off some energy, and when you come home, they crash out, but not before getting the cuddles and forehead kisses that they earnt.