on1knee4marksmen

[on1knee4marksmen]

Quick thought while I'm trying to prepare for my goddamn exams, but Logan would be the type of father figure to go "What'cha doin'? Oh, math?? You want help? I mean, surely, it couldn't have changed since I managed to get the jist of it." and then ten minutes in he's throwing hands in the air and yelling "THEN WHY ISN'T IT WORKING!?" and you're there, as agitated as he is, like "I DON'T KNOW THAT'S WHAT I'M ASKING YOU!?!?"

Would later apologise he yelled (a muttered "'m sorry.." with the same energy as a cat that scratched you without thinking) and quietly cut up some fruit for you in the hopes that you'd forgive him (you can see the guilt on his face🥺)

Anyways I hate functions KILL ME.

[on1knee4marksmen]

GUYS.

MY FRIENDS GOT ME A SILLY DEADPOOL LAMP FOR MY B-DAY OMG I'M SCREAMING THIS IS SO CUTE

THE POOKIES HAVE REUNITED, I REPEAT, THE POOKIES HAVE REUNITED!!!

Got this lil guy as an early birthday gift for myself (it's next week lol) and LOOK AT HIM!!

He's so ugly I lob him

Anyways fics are on the way I promise 💔💔

[on1knee4marksmen]

I need Logan Howlett to fucking hug me :(

I need him to pick me up and hold me close, to let me wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him and never let go type stuff.

I need his big ass palms pressing against my back, keeping me close to him while he strokes my back or draws little patterns on my shoulder or something.

I need him to kiss my forehead and lean his head against mine and tell me it's all going to be alright while rocking me back and forth and shushing me gently.

I need him to just silently hug me and let me cry into his shoulder for as much as I possibly can, until I eventually get uncomfortable in the position and he has to let me back down on my feet. Only to hold me ever the more close.

When I'm done crying, I need him to speak to me in that soft and gentle voice he usually reserves for Jubilee and ask me if I wanna watch a movie or eat. And then when I eventually tell him I'm way too tired and feel way too miserable, I need him to tell me that's okay and let me hold his hand while we go to my room so I can sleep.

And then when I ask him to stay, I need him to nod and ruffle my hair and tell me about his day or about memories and experiences of his until I doze off. Or maybe I need him to lay down next to me and pull me into his chest and let me stay there, squeezing me gently when he feels how unsteady my breaths are or how shaky my shoulders feel.

In conclusion, a hug from the Wolverine would probably fix me.

[on1knee4marksmen]

reblog if you’re a writer who’s very terrible at responding to comments from your readers, but has read them all and loves and appreciates each and every single one of them very dearly

[on1knee4marksmen]

"If you use em dash in your works, it makes them look AI generated. No real human uses em dash."

Imaging thinking actual human writers are Not Real because they use... professional writing in their works.

Imagine thinking millions of people who have been using em dash way before AI becomes a thing are all robots.

REBLOG IF YOU'RE A HUMAN AND YOU USE EM DASH

[on1knee4marksmen]

oh.. why is so nice

[on1knee4marksmen]

you know what.

I am so fucking tired of rape fics. I am a sexual assault survivor and you sexulise rape. why. why do I work so hard to get better and it all get ruined by some horny asshole just like last time. THESE CHARATERS DONT WANT TO RAPE YOU. rape is horrible, its NOT sexy. its traumatizing. why do you keep talking about it and writing about it. STOP MINIMIZING MY PAIN WITH YOUR DERANGED FANTASIES.

Simon Riley isnt a rapist

Leon Kennedy isnt a rapist

and belive it or not Jonathan Crane ISNT A FUCKING RAPIST

dont tell me not to kink shame

do not tell me to skip it

you cannot tell me that my trauma doesn't matter

STOP WRITING RAPE FICS

[on1knee4marksmen]

If I'm posting stuff that are not requests it doesn't mean I'm not working on requests btw I LOVE YOU GUYS' IDEAS I'M WRITING THEM AS I SPEAK I PROMISE

[on1knee4marksmen]

Late Night Snack

★A silly little Wolverine x reader fic★

Inspired by this post that I just stumbled upon that made me laugh out loud. Can be read as both platonic and romantic :)

You stirred awake. Your eyes still fluttering open, the lull of sleep still wrapped around you like a vice, you sat up straight with a not very much coherent mumble.

For a moment, your half asleep mind started wandering: why were you awake? Had you overslept? Was this your biological clock telling you to get up, blaring the alarm in your mind? Was there something you were forgetting, something that made you restless--

You felt the dryness of your throat the moment you yawned. What followed that yawn was a frustrated groan - you were just thirsty.

Already too awake to ignore the thirst and go back to bed, yet too asleep to stand up and walk to the kitchen properly, you squinted your eyes and accepted your fate. Down the stairs it was.

With your fluffy slippers dragging over the floor, you tried to get adjusted to the lighting - or the lack thereof. Your steps down the stairs were cautious and rather funny-looking, you thought, but you couldn't care less.

And after you passed your number one enemy in the dark, aka the staircase? It was easy work.

Trying not to grumble to yourself, you were too busy thinking about your bed and its warmth to properly comprehend your surroundings. Before you knew it, you were dragging yourself into the kitchen, searching for the lightswitch and tapping it gently--

You were snapped out of your dreamy state by your own scream - there was a figure over the stove!! Eyes still adjusting to the light, you reached for the first thing you could grab a hold of from the table and lifted it up-

"Woah, woah, bub! Hey! 'S just me!"

... What.

Panic being overriden by confusion, you froze, blinking rapidly to help your eyes adjust to the lighting. And, well, sure enough, there was your so-called intruder - a hairy man with kitty-ear-like tufts in his hair, a little messier than usual, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. With hearts on them.

And it all clicked.

"Wh-- Logan!? What are you doing here in the ass crack of dawn??"

Logan himself was still startled, as he looked back at you with an expression somewhere between defensiveness and pure astonishment.

"I should be asking you that - you were just about to smash a vase on my head!"

Still shocked, you looked up towards your raised hand - and, sure enough, the vase in it. The poor flowers inside were jostled around and some water had spilled on the ground next to you.

"Well, I thought you were an intruder! Who the hell hangs out in the kitchen at 4 in the morning, in the dark, doing--

..Wait, what are you doing, actually?"

Under any other circumstance, Logan would've probably laughed. The way your tone had gone from hurt and shocked, to soft and curious was pure comedy to him. But he was just as shocked as you were.

And he was beginning to feel a little embarrassed too.

"Oh. I uuh.. I jus' got hungry," the way he mumbled those words was similar to a kid whose hand was still in the cookie jar when it got caught.

"..'M just making myself..grilled cheese.."

...Okay, now the absurdity of it all had caught up to you. Just as quickly as you had gone from startled to curious, you had made the transition between curious and amused - a soft chuckle left your lips, as a little grin tugged at your features.

"In the dark?" You teased, already moving to put the poor vase back down on the table.

If he sounded a little embarrassed before, now he looked sheepish too. "..In the dark, yeah."

He turned back to the stove, his back muscles flexing a bit, as he took hold of a pan again. Apparently the pan he was making the grilled cheese with. You stiffened a giggle at the thought.

"..My eyes don't take well to sharp adjustments in the light," you heard him mumble. He sounded calmer already, maybe even a little groggy with the way his voice was rasping. "..'s why I left the light off..

.. didn't mean to scare ya.."

With those last words of his, mumbled sheepishly, yet softly, you completely forgave him. Not that you hadn't before already, but it made you smile.

"Nah, it's okay," you replied, moving towards the counter to grab a towel and wipe the water you spilt off the floor. Aand there goes another giggle. Just the thought of it all made you smile.

"..Sorry for trying to hit you with a vase."

What you got in reply was a rather rare chuckle of Logan's - not because he doesn't laugh often, but because it's usually not as soft and light-hearted as this one. You couldn't see his face, and yet you were sure he was grinning too.

"It's alright, darlin'. 'M gonna make sure to leave a little note on the door next time I'm here. Just so you don't reach for the pan next time."

You made sure he heard your little laugh, as you got to work with drying the puddle on the tiled floor - despite the little interaction, you found yourself feeling a lot better, a lot more content with leaving your bed for a glass of water.

Comfortable silence filled you, as you finished cleaning up and occupied yourself with getting a drink. Logan's grilled cheese was also coming along well, judging by the smell that filled the kitchen.

As you went to take a seat on the table with your glass of water, you spoke up again.

"Logan?"

"Mm?"

...

"Can you make me one as well?"

[on1knee4marksmen]

Don't imagine Rex quietly fixing a younger clone’s armor after hours, muttering, "you gotta take better care of yourself, kid," while he polishes each scratch like it’s sacred.

Don't imagine Fives trying to teach shinies how to play cards, cheating outrageously so they win, whooping and hollering like they’re champions of the galaxy, and slipping a few credits into their pockets when no one's looking.

Don't imagine Cody staying up all night after a tough battle because he's personally stitching medals of bravery into the empty bunks of fallen troopers, so when they’re remembered, they’re remembered right.

Don't imagine Hardcase giving away his dessert rations to any clone who looks even remotely sad, acting like it’s a prank or a dare so no one knows he’s doing it out of love.

Don't imagine Echo re-learning how to shoot left-handed after his injury, stubbornly, painstakingly, so he can teach other injured clones that they’re not broken — just different.

Don't imagine Jesse carving tiny little messages into the walls of every base they’re stationed at. Messages like "501st were here. We fought. We lived." like he's trying to leave proof they mattered.

Don't imagine Dogma leaving tiny notes in people's lockers that just say "you’re doing good." "you’re brave." "I believe in you." — and then feeling too shy to admit it was him.

Don't imagine Wolffe pretending to be annoyed when Boost and Sinker sneak stray animals into the barracks, but secretly building a little hidden shelter for them behind the hangar.

Don't imagine Kix memorizing the medical charts of every single brother in his battalion — birthdays, allergies, old injuries — because he doesn’t trust the GAR systems to care enough (and he's 30000% right).

Don't imagine Tup tending to a tiny makeshift garden in the middle of a warzone with whatever seeds and scraps he can find, because "something’s gotta grow, sir."

Don't imagine Rex carrying every goodbye letters and notes he never got to say or give tucked in the seams of his armor or in a chest under his bed — every brother he couldn’t save, every friend he couldn’t reach — and still standing up the next morning because someone has to lead, and if not him, then who?

Don't imagine Waxer carrying around a crumpled, dirty drawing of Numa from Ryloth in a hidden pocket inside his armor, smoothing it out and smiling every time he feels like the war is eating him alive.

Don't imagine Boil pretending to grumble about it but secretly checking the drawing too, mouthing, "stay safe, little one," before every mission because part of his heart never left Ryloth.

Don't imagine Bly sketching little comic strips in the margins of his field reports to make Aayla laugh during debriefings — and still carrying the last one he never got to show her, tucked inside his chest plate.

Don't imagine Colt teaching his new ARC trainees how to properly tie a tourniquet and lecturing them seriously, but at the end quietly handing each of them a little lucky charm, like an old Republic credit or a braided cord, "for good luck, kid."

Don't imagine Appo still wearing a piece of Fives' blue paint on his armor as a "tradition" without telling anyone where it came from or why it matters so much.

Don't imagine Fox locking himself in his office after long shifts guarding Coruscant because he can’t stand seeing the brothers’ faces when they look at him like he’s a stranger now — so he sits in the dark and listens to the old 501st comms chatter recordings, just to feel something again.

Don't imagine Jesse and Kix starting a stupid prank war in the barracks where they replace each other's ration packs with terrible "mystery meat," laughing until Rex threatens to demote them — but Kix sneaks Rex a spiked caf packet later as revenge.

Don't imagine Tup painting tiny flowers on the inside of his helmet where no one can see them, tiny bursts of color against the cold plastoid — because he wants to carry beauty into battle even if no one else knows.

Don't imagine Dogma standing at the memorial wall and reading every single name out loud, even the ones he never knew, because he thinks someone should.

Don't imagine Waxer and Boil talking about "after the war" plans, like opening a repair shop on Ryloth, taking in lost kids, making sure no one else has to grow up the way they did — and laughing about it like it could actually happen.

Don't imagine Fives pulling a prank so chaotic that even Rex laughs — real, loud, helpless laughter — and Fives looking absolutely stunned before grinning like he'd just been handed the whole galaxy.

Don't imagine Rex tracing the scars on his hands sometimes without realizing, as if he’s trying to memorize every mistake, every battle, every time he almost didn’t make it — and then closing his fist around them like a promise to keep going.

Don't imagine Kix secretly saving every "thank you" note the boys have ever given him — crumpled sticky notes, bad handwriting, a piece of torn armor that just says "thanks doc" — tucked into his med kit like the most valuable supplies he owns.

[on1knee4marksmen]

I miss every single little moment of this show, especially the first episode and Crosshair's arc (I miss Crosshair 😔)

Mayday holds a special place in my heart.

So does Tech, I miss Tech ☹️

It's already been a year without my boys this is diabolical 💔

I can’t believe it’s been a year since we said goodbye to the Bad Batch.

I want to use this post so everyone can reblog with either telling everyone what you loved about the show, your favourite characters via gifs, fan art and fan fic recs (credit the creators). Maybe even your own art and fics! Use this space to show off your cosplays, conventions you’ve been too, any merch. Literally anything Bad Batch related to keep Clone Force 99 alive! 🩵

No pressure tags: @eyecandyeoz @arctrooper69 @raevulsix @im-no-jedi @probadbatch @itsjml @talesfrommedinastation @nunanuggets @photogirl894 @griffedeloup @starrylothcat @returnofthepineapple @agenteliix @badbatcher @cwarssimp @forbiddenwaves @jetii @kryptoknight123 and whoever else wants to join in!

[on1knee4marksmen]

Gregory House with a teenage daughter (platonic!!)

------------✙------------

General Hcs :) (more like rambles)

🩻House & teenage daughter that looks juuust a bit too much like him? Buddy don't get me started-

🩻I feel like he'd really get along with a teen daughter (he's just a teenage girl too, I fear)

🩻Like he's one of those cool dads that you can share anything with without getting scolded/grounded or anything like that. Don't get me wrong, you're getting raised with manners, but you're also getting raised to be a menace when it comes to standing your ground.

🩻I mean c'mon, it's Greg House we're talking about, he's pretty goddamn stubborn.

🩻You guys also have a bunch of inside jokes. One of which being referring to eachother with the most exaggerated, old-fashioned, formal forms ever known to the English language, when in reality you're just telling him to buy toilet paper on the way home because there's none left

"Father, I regret to inform you that I require hydration, however am far too away from the only water source in our fortress and am far too lazy to raise myself upon my feet."

"My dearest, dearest daughter.

No fucking way, get your lazy ass up and pour a glass yourself." "But dad-"

🩻Btw swearing is 100% something natural for your household. House would probably squeeze in a remark or two if you overdo it, but overall he has no problem with hearing swears from you (because he also swears every now and then)

🩻(Off topic, but you'd regularly make puns about the apartment being a 'House-hold' and he'd pretend to hate every single one of them, but deep down he'd actually find them amusing)

🩻Apartment is a mess. All the time. Almost everywhere.

🩻But I don't mean filthy mess. I mean just untidy, but you guys know what's where and find a way around it

🩻Unspoken rule that you tell eachother whenever you move something, just in case the one that did the moving forgets

🩻Despite him being a pretty good cook himself, he wouldn't be surprised if you didn't know how to do stuff properly when it comes to cooking. He always helps you and you sometimes pout about it (but you're grateful deep down)

🩻You convinced him to let you cook dinner by yourself once. Almost burned the kitchen down. You apologised a thousand times, but you guys did have a laugh about it later, so it's all good

🩻Most times you guys order takeaway, cuz House doesn't really have motivation to cook often

🩻And if you surprise him with your first home-cooked meal (this time without burning the kitchen down)? He wouldn't tell you face-to-face, but you can see the flicker of pride in his eyes and the hint of an almost fond grin tugging at his lips (even if it needs a bit of seasoning)

🩻He might not feel like cooking dinner, but making breakfast definitely comes easier to him. Expect scrambled eggs and sausage/whatever ham he could find in the fridge greeting you when you wake up. He might even make pancakes on weekends/rare dayoffs

🩻Aaah he loves that you share a music taste with him if you do!!

🩻If you don't, he won't stop you from listening to it ofc, he'd just complain about it whenever it wasn't on headphones (🙄)

🩻But if you did share a music taste? ... Getting noise complaints from the neighbours about classic rock getting blasted past 10 pm wouldn't be the most uncommon

🩻Would support you in any hobbies you have, 100%. Both financially and by psyching you up.

🩻You draw? He has a sketch/artwork of yours framed somewhere in his office. Crochet? He still keeps the mini crochet doll of himself on his keys. Knit? He wears the scarf you made him every winter. Read? He's buying you at least one new book every month or two. You'd have to help with installing new bookshelves though, he'd do nothing but lay on the couch for the most part and blame it on the leg™. Play any instrument? You have the whole ass setup for it in your room at home. If the instrument is suitable for piano duets, he's so down to do one with you

🩻Would so be down to playing any type of video game with you. You guys probably have a gamecube/nintendo 360/xbox/whatever the hell there was in his time I have no idea

🩻Lets you mess around on his Gameboy if you ever come to work with him and get bored

🩻Greg might be kind of an asshole to people and he might claim not to care, but he definitely cares, especially about you.

🩻If you're happy, he genuinely feels at ease too. But if he senses any shift in your normal behaviour, anything that he might find alarming? He wouldn't push it more than an "Anything wrong? Or are you this frowny all the time?" or a "Wanna talk about it?". But he'd do his best to subtly show you he's here for you and you can talk to him. About anything that might be troubling you, anything

🩻House isn't used to saying 'I love you', but he does his best to show it to you.

🩻Until one day you come home crying and he realises - he has no idea what to do. So he does what feels most unnatural to him, but knows that you need. He offers a hug. If you accept it, he gladly wraps his arms around you and tucks your head under his chin. Rubs your shoulders and back a little. Offers to hear you out if you need to talk. Then proceeds to trashtalk whoever/whatever made you cry with you. He's a number 1 gossip buddy, makes you feel so much better by doing it too. He'd then order your fav food and offer to do whatever you wanted, really. Ends the night by sending you off to bed with an awkward shoulder rub, but a look of soft longing in his glossy eyes (he wants to kiss your forehead and tuck you in like he did back when you had nightmares, but he's scared of being vulnerable with you cuz you're older now)

🩻Overall, House is pretty emotionally constipated at times and doesn't like being vulnerable or showing affection. But he'd be a cool, loving father and I die on this hill.

[on1knee4marksmen]

Dad!House & Daughter!Reader fic by my beloved (/s) friend, @kr0ffie

TW/CW : Implied(?) Self-Harm / Attempted Suicide [[Cutting]], Strained Father-Daughter Relationship(?)

All House could see was red.

How could he not, when there was red everywhere?

"F- father…" She was trembling. She was shaking and trembling and trying so hard to hide her arms, looking at anywhere but his eyes.

"You're home early…" She trailed off, looking away.

There's a mirror behind her, on top of the sink. The color red lines her arms, and like paint, they were slowly dripping onto the floor.

House sighed. He walked towards her daughter. She flinched. His heart sank.

"Y/N," He said, "Show me your arms?"

A question. He would rather wish it was a statement.

Her daughter resignedly showed her arms towards him. Gently, he guided her daughter towards the sink and turned on the faucet, before letting the water ran down her arms.

She hissed in pain, but doesn't do anything else. He wished she would.

It was quiet, as House pulled out the disinfectant and medicine from the cupboard beneath the sink, carefully pouring them onto his daughter's wounds. A gauze made its way into his hands, and in no time her arms were neatly wrapped in bandages.

He is a doctor, after all.

He let her sit on the closed toilet seat, grabbing an old cloth from somewhere in the corner of the cupboard to clean up the blood in the floor.

"Y/N," House finally said, still focused on cleaning the blood. Y/N hummed, listening, eyes downcast and only now did House realized; Her eyes were empty.

"You know I love you, right?" House prayed to the gods she does, as selfish as it is. He knew he was not the best father, he knew his flaws as a father, he fucking knew damnit.

But still, he selfishly hoped-

"Yes," Y/N cut off his train of thoughts without knowing it, "I know,"

"That's good," House said. He kept scrubbing at the floor.

The floor was already clean.

"…Do you-" Y/N paused, before changing her words, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Are you not gonna ask…?"

"You're exhausted. Have you eaten dinner yet?" House asked instead. Y/N nodded. Shame, House was going to order her favorite if she hadn't had dinner yet.

House finally threw the cloth back into the cupboard. He stood up, gently guiding his daughter to also do so, and led them to the living room.

He laid her there, covering her with blankets and puffing up the pillows. She only stared at him.

"I love you," House blurted out. The words felt foreign in his tongue. He internally grimaced when he realised that.

His daughter stayed silent.

"I love you," He said again. "I love you. I love you-"

"Why?" She cut him off. Her eyes were glassy. "Why do you love me?"

"You're my daughter." House said, fixing the blanket on top of her. "I love you," He repeated.

And he said it again.

And Y/N cried.

And what a surprise it was, for House never seen his kid cried openly like this before.

So he repeated his words again.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

They would have to talk about it tomorrow of course. Apologies long due. Feelings that were locked away for so long. Mental health and most likely also about therapy. Both for Y/n and for him, because he needed a reality check himself.

But for tonight, House would kiss his daughter's forehead, and sat on the floor beside her until she cried herself to sleep.

Because House is a doctor. But he is, first and foremost, a father.

[on1knee4marksmen]

book divider set

new creator - requests open - like & reblog if you use!!

જ⁀➴ credit me please & follow for more dividers!

[on1knee4marksmen]

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

House as a Girl Dad (tween/teen edition)

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

pics from pinterest

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

[on1knee4marksmen]

Logan is so, so dad. For everyone who doesn't have a dad, he's perfect. I'm pretty sure he'd adopt anyone in the fandom if they wanted him too. (I've gotta make a plushie of him, I've made one of Evo Nightcrawler!)

THIS.

No matter which version of Wolverine, he's adopting lost teenage girls (and boys and just teenagers as a whole) left to right, sometimes without his own knowledge lol. And he'd be the coolest dad too like hello?? He might live off of beer and cigars, but he'd definitely make you breakfast with whatever he had and teach you to chop wood with an axe if you lived with him in the cabin uuugh I want him to hug me😭

Also, did I just hear (read) Evo Nightcrawler plushie??? Fantastic, gimmie 14 of 'em (not really but that sounds so cute omg!!)

[on1knee4marksmen]

Okay, I saw the adk you answered about what you do and don't do! Just a heads up, I do write platonic yandere stuff for X-Men and a few other fandoms, but you don't have to read those or anything. I don't mind platonic stuff too, I do some of that with @hermesserpent-stuff, we make aus with Sabretooth and Gambit. Some of it is yandere, some of it is not. I will stick to platonic, yandere-free asks here! (Just wanted you to know, so uou don't accidentally stumble on something that upsets you or isn't your thing)

Thanks so much for letting me know! Yandere isn't my thing, but you know what, hell yeah, love to see people writing what they like😎

If anyone does like platonic yandere, @honey-minded-hivemind's blog is the spot!