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Help me with my next post, please!

Also, if you do participate in this poll, have any ideas, and you like my writing then please send in requests! I'm out for the summer and ready to start posting again, so any help with ideas would be great. Thank you!

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Me taking little peeks at each of my 3 favourite writers on Tumblr to see if they've answered my requests (they haven't yet but I promised to be patient and told them to take their time):

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stay right here - Jeremy Gilbert

════════════════════ - Jeremy Gilbert x reader - Warnings: none, slightly suggestive Synopsis; "Despite your best efforts to keep up with the constant pressure of helping your friends, the exhaustion is finally catching up to you. Late in the evening, when you finally make it home, Jeremy is already there—waiting to ease your mind. And he has no intention of letting you keep running yourself into the ground."

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The front door gave that familiar creak as you pushed it open, the hinges dragging like they, too, were just as exhausted. The air inside the house was cooler than expected, dim with the last of the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. You didn’t bother flipping the switch, instead just dropping your keys into the bowl by the door and leaning against it for what felt like an eternity as your eyes gave up on fighting to stay open.

Your bag, which by now was filled with notes of whatever other task you will have to take care of tomorrow, slid off your shoulder and dropped to the floor with a small thud. Despite knowing you should, every muscle in your body refused to move and follow through with picking it up.

The day had been long, filled with text and calls, last minute errands and tasks which needed attention at the earliest time possible. You had pieces to hold together, locations to scout and many other things to do while the rest of your friends took on some other crisis that disturbed the small amount of peace that you'd get after the one before it. And you didn't mind. You wanted to help. They're your friends. Your family now. The choice to help was yours after being pulled into the supernatural world, with it's dark corners and all.

But the days are getting longer, your body starting to go against your determination to not let those you love have to deal with everything on their own. Your eyelids felt heavier, your knees hurt, and you haven't eaten since morning. Haven't sat down since noon. When you woke up, the first thing you thought of was how much time you could save in the morning so that you'd get to do more things. Before bed, the last thing you see is the many papers and notes which remind you that there are things that need to be taken care of tomorrow. Not the day after, because that would just make it all last.

With a small sigh, you let your eyes open again and take in your surroundings once again as you began stepping further within your home. And then, as you came to a stop right at the entrance of your living room, you'd realised that he is here.

Stretched comfortably across your couch, Jeremy seemed as though he belonged here. Legs kicked out and crossed at the ankle, some book he was most definitely not reading half open on his chest. Hearing your approaching steps, he only shifted lightly in his position and tiled his head back to look at you upside down. His eyes scanned you over, looking at you as though he saw more than you'd think that you let be seen.

"Breaking into my house, Gilbert?" You asked, raising an eyebrow in mock exasperation as you sat on the edge of the couch.

"You gave me a key." Is his reply, shrugging as he began to sit up beside you. And it was true. You had given him a key. You just didn't expect him to use it today of all days.

The soft smile playing on his lips didn’t match the intensity behind his gaze. He looked at you the way he always did when he was about to say something that would undo you, so you turned away first—kicked off your shoes and padded to the kitchen in your socks.

The door of the fridge opened, revealing many options. Options which would take time and effort to cook, time which you were not sure that you had and effort which you could not put in. Not today, anyway. Instead, you took the leftovers of the food you actually did cook the other night, settling for that as you closed the fridge back up. Setting the container on the counter, you casually got yourself a cup and began filling it with water, Jeremy's footsteps slow and unbothered as he followed you into the kitchen.

Without having to look, you knew he was just leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed while he watched you with an annoyingly gentle expression on his face.

"You planning to continue running on coffee, leftovers and stress forever?" His voice was low, teasing at the edges as though to lighten the mood a little but with a clear layer of concern underneath. And you didn't respond right away to him, leaning against the counter and sipping on your water slowly as if that would make your thoughts slow down, too.

Jeremy stepped closer, and you felt him before seeing him, his warmth reaching your side as he stood close to you. "You look exhausted." He quietly remarked. You didn't respond, but maybe that was your answer.

He reached out, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he was wiping away sleep—or maybe guilt. And you didn't realise you'd been frowning until it softened under his touch. Then his hand slid down, deliberate and slow, tracing along your jaw and curling around the back of your neck. His touch was warm, firm. Anchoring. You leaned in just a little, the brief smell of whatever cologne he always wore which has slowly faded into him reaching you. He smelled familiar. Safe. It was the kind of scent that would linger on your pillows after leaving the bed in the morning.

His lips grazed your temple, then your cheek, softly working on easing your worries. You turned your face slightly, and that was all it took. His mouth found yours—not rushed, not greedy. Just there. Like a question he already knew the answer to.

The kiss deepened, slow and grounding, his hands sliding down on your waist and pulling your body closer to his until it fit like a puzzle piece which you both have been missing all day. His grip tightened lightly, fingers pressing into your skin.

Then—buzz buzz.

The phone on the counter lit up.

You stilled, your body growing stiff.

Jeremy pulled away far enough to see the way your eyes moved towards the screen, his gaze following your own. Elena. You were hesitant. It had become a reflex at this point. Answer, say yes. Say 'I'll be right there'. Your fingers twitched, already intending to reach for it. But Jeremy already beat you to it.

He didn't say anything as he picked the phone up. Just answered. "She's not available right now." he said, voice quick and unbothered. Then he hung up, dropping the phone back on the counter without even looking at it.

Your mouth opened—part habit, part panic—but he was already closing the distance. Again. His arms slid around your waist like he never wanted to let go. That usual softness in his eyes was still there, but it had sharpened just slightly, something darker edging in—something that made your breath catch.

Jeremy dipped his head close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low and smug. “There. Now no one else can steal you away.”

"You didn't have to hung up on her." Your pulse fluttered as you spoke, part of you worried that you may have been needed for something important. Something that could not wait. “I did,” he said easily. “Because if I let you answer one more call tonight, you were going to disappear again. And I’m not in the mood to share.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, one brow raised, lips barely holding back a smirk. “You were about to say yes, weren’t you?” You didn't answer. You didn't have to, because he knew exactly what your answer would be. His smile deepened like he knew exactly how to read your silence. One of his hands slid slowly up your spine, making your whole body react like he’d flipped a switch you didn’t even know was there.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “You keep running around fixing everyone’s mess, and meanwhile I haven’t had five uninterrupted minutes with you in a week.” He leaned in again, slower this time, giving you a chance to stop him. You didn’t.

The kiss was soft at first—more of a promise than a claim—but it shifted quickly. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until your back hit the edge of the counter and you felt him press against you, not rushed, just intentional. A reminder that he was here. That you were here.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” he said between kisses, words lazy and warm against your mouth. “Not unless I’m coming with you.”

Your laugh came out breathy, caught somewhere between flustered and fond. “Is this you being overprotective?”

“This is me,” he said, mouth trailing slow down your jaw, “not letting you leave this house until you’ve eaten, slept, and remembered that you’re still allowed to be human.”

“And if I say I have things to do?”

He pulled back just enough to give you that look—mischievous, challenging, eyes full of trouble. “Then I’ll just have to distract you.” He lifted you easily onto the counter like it was nothing, stepping between your knees, hands settling on your thighs with just enough pressure to make your heart thrum against your ribs.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said, quiet but final, like a line drawn in the sand. “No calls. No saving the world. Just me. And you. Right here.”

Your legs instinctively tightened around his waist as he stepped in closer, and the grin he gave you was far too satisfied. The kind that said 'yeah, I noticed'. The kind that made your stomach do that slow flip and your skin buzz with anticipation.

Jeremy’s hands didn’t rush. They smoothed slowly up the outsides of your thighs, fingers spreading, thumbs pressing lightly into your skin like he was taking his time memorizing you. His gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, and then lower—blatant.

“You’ve been running around all week for everyone else,” he murmured, voice low and a little rough now. “When’s the last time someone took care of you?”

Your breath hitched. One of his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing bare skin, featherlight. Not enough to do anything, just enough to tease. Just enough to make you want to lean in, to chase more. “I’m serious,” he added, eyes locked to yours. “You’re so busy being strong for everyone else, I don’t think you’ve stopped to feel anything that wasn’t exhaustion.”

Your reply caught in your throat when his hand slipped further up your spine, dragging your shirt with it. Warm fingers, bare skin, heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t even what he was doing, it was how. The control. The focus. Like nothing else existed right now but you.

“You’re not just staying in tonight,” he said, voice a little darker now. “You’re going to sit still and let me undress that stress. All of it.”

He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, then another just below your ear. “No distractions. No excuses.” Your head tilted almost automatically, baring more skin for him without even thinking. He chuckled under his breath, like he’d caught you giving in, and was more than ready to take advantage of it.

“You like when I talk like that, don’t you?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear again. “When I take charge.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn't. But your body gave you away. Your fingers curled in his shirt, dragging him even closer, and he rewarded you with a deeper kiss, one that bordered on filthy—tongue sliding against yours, slow and claiming, like he was tasting your surrender.

“You’ve got no idea,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours, “how long I’ve wanted you like this. All soft. Finally taking a moment away from pushing yourself to exhaustion.”

Your hands slid under his shirt this time, tracing over hard muscle, earning a quiet groan from deep in his chest.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight,” he said again, firmer now. “You’re mine. And I’m going to make damn sure you feel it.”

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A/N: To be honest, I am actually quite proud of this. It is currently 05:03 AM so I am running on lack of sleep and water, but it seems to me like I did a decent job. I've been meaning to write this for a bit because I've been thinking about this scenario and could not find anything even remotely similar, so this is simply the work of random thinking and a lot of love for Jeremy. - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

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Starting form Scratch!

────୨ৎ──── ════════════════════ ────୨ৎ────

So, I was clearly gone for a long time—like, months. Honestly, I don’t have much of an excuse aside from a brutal case of writer’s block, zero motivation, and the never-ending cycle of procrastination.

Since my first post, I’ve removed a few fandoms from the list—mainly because I just don’t feel inspired to write for them anymore. That said, here’s the updated list of fandoms I do write for! - The Vampire Diaries - requests open - Resident evil - requests closed - Until Dawn - requests closed I know—it’s a lot shorter than my original list. But that’s because I’ve narrowed it down to the fandoms I’m most likely to actually write for, instead of listing everything I like, even if I’d probably never get to them due to lack of requests. That said, I might add more over time. You’re also totally welcome to ask about other fandoms you’re curious or interested in—I’ll happily let you know whether I write for them or not. And as for what I’m willing to write—just keep in mind that some things might be acceptable or not depending on the context—here’s the list: What I WILL write: - Fluff/Angst, SFW, NSFW, platonic love, head canons, suggestive. What I will NOT write: - character x character, abuse, non-consensual, multiple characters x reader(romantic), cheating

- I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

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you go on wattpad for smut and barely find anything good, but then come on tumblr and can't get rid of all the damn smut. sigh.

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

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THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! OMG I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.

Of Smoke and Burnt Blossoms

"No matter the prayers or words, though they draw near, they never reach"

tw: mentions of gore/violence, character death (not major), possibly ooc characters

Red.

Everything in your vision was red.

All you could make out was the hues of crimson that painted the ground before you in its sickening color. The puddles of blood seemed to be an endless sea, coating anything and everything as it marks its victims.

All that is left here is death, that, you were sure of.

You could feel your chest heaving against the coarse ground beneath you, trying to gasp for oxygen as smoke from the fires continues to weave itself in the air. Your lungs felt like it was burning from the inside out. Your glassy eyes frantically darted around, desperate to find a glimpse of another in the blatant massacre.

There were many.

Bodies were discarded carelessly on the ground. Swords were pierced through their torsos completely, ensuring that they felt excruciating pain before their inevitable deaths.

You wanted to puke.

Corpses were incomplete. Some had gaping holes, allowing blood to rush out where the flesh was supposed to be. Others had been struck down, slashes of swords that completely separated the upper and lower half of their bodies, allowing internal organs to spill out.

Your mind tried to scramble for each of their names fruitlessly. You knew you caught a glimpse of many of them when training in the sect. You knew they all had that brimming passion, the only kind which disciples of your sect could have, be it ones long retired or newly appointed. An unbridled devotion to learn of the sacred arts and to protect. That was what it means to be a part of Mount Yinghua. To know that you would never see that spark in their eyes and to know that the families and friends waiting for each of them only to never return to their embrace? It was cruel.

How could life deny them to a proper death?

To deny their spirit to pass on with honor, surrounded by loved ones?

For what reason was this amount of bloodshed necessary?

Your sights settled on a man, unmoving on the ground. His long ebony hair adorned with streaks of grey hair, soaked in a pool of his own blood, clothing stained of the same dark hue. What was previously a pristine white cloak, proudly showcasing an emblem of a plum blossom was now torn and ripped, smears of mud and red that bloomed all over it.

Your eyes finally landed on the man's side.

His entire right shoulder and arm was torn brutally off his torso, leaving behind the black char of the burning of flesh. You felt your throat closing up, gagging as bile rises up your esophagus, threatening to spill out of your mouth in an obscene fashion.

Your father's face, one that always worn a stern passive look when teaching the numerous students he was faced with, one that sported a warm smile whenever you managed to ace a new technique, was now stuck in a mix of shock and horror. His eyes now cold and unblinking, his face forever frozen in a silent state of agony. The last few words he would've wanted to say to you could never reach your ears now. Not when he's dead. When all of them are dead.

Your father.

Your mentors.

Your fellow disciples.

They were all dead.

You steeled your eyes to a figure standing a few feet before you. Your blood boiled as your heart pumped it rapidly throughout your body.

For the second time this night, you saw red.

The ground beneath you belonged to your family's sect since the Han Dynasty. It was on these grounds that the sacred arts used by swordsmen of the bygone age to restore order amongst the clashing sects. Your ancestors shed their own blood and sweat to build and preserve these grounds. Now all disciples too had heaved their last breath to protect the sect. Their efforts to clash against the enemy was futile as it ended in complete annihilation this very night.

And who was behind this...?

It is the work of that figure.

The demon sent from the pits of hell.

One whose aim is to bring the world to its knees and reinforce a twisted form of order, the Leader of the League of Assassins, Ra's Al Ghul, the Demon's Head.

That cloaked figure bathed in the glow of your sect's destruction, ensuring nothing will be spared in the light of the eradication of any lasting remains of the ancient sect.

"It was a shame," you heard him speak, "you were a great warrior."

An unspoken promise — you would die here.

The sounds of his footsteps receded into the night, lost to the roaring flames that engulfed what was once your home.

You needed to bring to bring the man to his knees.

Your felt the muscles in your arm burn as you tried to lift up your body.

To move.

To do something.

Anything.

You needed to get him, but your body protested against it. You heaved as you fell back down on the ground. Then the world seemed to grow fainter. The crackling of wood mellowed by the buzzing in your ears, your vision slowly growing darker as the pain that once emanated from your entire body began to numb away. Sorrow gave way to rage, and the anger that resided in you settled into distraught

Was this really the end?

What was going to happen to the sect?

Every single member of the sect lost their lives on these grounds, and any followers who were devout to it too have lost their lives.

In the end, did any of this matter?

You felt tired. Even more so when you realized your life didn't accumulate to anything.

Had you trained harder, maybe you could've saved just one more life.

Had you trained harder, maybe you could've killed that demon.

Had you trained harder, maybe you could've seen your father's smile for the last time.

The rules of nature dictates that in the face of winter, every blossom will have to wither away.

Perhaps, this was your winter.

Your eyelids felt heavy, not having the strength to keep them open, they closed. Your heavy breaths grew shallow, the searing pain from your wounds numb away.

Then it was quiet.

The whirring of an outer-worldly aircraft grew louder as it manages to descend upon the mountainous terrain. Within the concealed confines of the bio-ship, six individuals busied themselves as they grew closer to their mission's coordinates.

"Remember, this is a simple mission," Aqualad recited, "observe and report back." The voice of a certain Bat reverberating in his head. Lest he wanted himself and the entire team to receive another harsh briefing, this one had to go well. There was little room for mistakes in this profession.

Conner grunted, "What is there to report other than the fact that the entire sect is up in flames?" Looking through the windows of the aircraft, the huge fire was a sight for sore eyes in the tranquility of the mountain top.

"Technically, a fire led me, KF and Aqualad to find you in Cadmus ," Robin joined in, "maybe we might find a new teammate." He added, with a familiar grin shot towards the half-Kryptonian.

Artemis gave the caped boy a deadpan look. "I don't think the team is going to magically add a teammate every time we investigate a fire."

"Nothing personal but not every huge fire will be something deeper than it is." She leaned back in her chair, observing the scene, with blackened fumes, it would be difficult to actually find anything to report on other than total devastation.

"It would be nice to add another member though, especially if it's another girl..." M'gan smiled, finding the idea of another teammate to be an interesting one (what if she gets a new housemate!)

"As always, you're absolutely right, babe." Wally gave a painfully love-sick grin, earning himself a audible groan from Artemis, hearing the ginger attempt to woo the martian was unbearable sometimes.

"Alright, alright, time to focus," Khaldur redirected the team's focus, "Ms Martian will establish the mental link and stay in the bio-ship while the rest of the team will spread out through out the sect. Conner will take the training area, Artemis and I will take the communal hall, Robin and Kid Flash will take the Sect Leader's building."

"Does everyone know what to do?" Khaldur gave one last look to all of them, receiving a unanimous nod in return, an assured look on all their faces.

"Alright then, let's get started."

Whatever happened in this place must've been hell on earth.

Wally scrunched his nose at the stench of burnt flesh and smoke. His hair swept by the winds as he quickly searched the building for any possible survivors. Every single corridor and room either succumbed to the licks of fire or was painted in red.

His body felt heavy, not from fatigue but from how tragic this all is. Within the building of the supposed leader of the sect, he saw many artefacts that seemed timeless and even more, the man had a family. He saw a portrait of the the sect leader, a man with a spark in his eyes matched with a warm smile, and there in the frame he saw a girl. They shared some features, but the trait he found the most similar was their smile.

He felt his feet glued to the wooden planks beneath him, eyes unable to tear away from the portrait. It was different. It felt different to look at a person, now undoubtedly stuck in the past, knowing they may never come back. Had the team been notified earlier, perhaps the man could've continued to live a quiet life in the mountains.

KF, I located a survivor in the garden behind the building, hurry.

Robin voice reverberated in his mind, breaking him off from his reverie — right — he needed to focus.

Within seconds, he reached the garden behind the wooden building. He saw Robin crouching over someone, pressing his index and middle finger on the side of her neck, before holding a finger under their nose.

"How's their condition?"

He saw Robin's face, usually carrying an air of nonchalance now had lines of concerns etched in his face.

"Stable at least, sustained multiple injuries but they could live if we act quick."

"Where do we bring them? They could potentially hold information about what happened to this place — which was our mission — but I'm not exactly sure if Batman approves us bringing a possibly civilian into the cave to heal." Wally followed up, already in the process of carrying the survivor, actively trying to avoid pressing on bruises.

"We'll think of something, we always do." Robin shot a smile, "Besides, I think he'll approve of us saving a person, it's on our job description."

"You better be right about that, Rob."

ch 2 might take a while to create so hang on tight

first fic after not writing for 2 yearsss. and it's been a while since i last watched young justice ;-;

any constructive feedback is appreciated (likes and reblogs too :))

(all the art doesn't belong to me)

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and it's crazy bc it makes me laugh so MUCH. like what do you mean "Bed. Now." HELP MEEE

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

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was reading this fic, i can't even remember who it was about but suddenly reader turned into veronica despite being addressed as 'reader' for more than half the fic. i was cackling sm

When you're reading a fanfic and suddenly the reader has a name

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THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME HELPPPP

Not another hardcore smut,give reader's kittycat a rest

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Pls guys I’m always bored

Edit: over a thousand notes!? Damn…

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Small ideas I'm considering to write for.

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════════════════════ A/N: Firstly, I want to apologize for posting and then disappearing again. I didn’t mean to, but I’ve been on holiday for a week now, and honestly, I’ve been less motivated to write because of it. Also, my period—this one was horrible.

That said, I’ve been thinking about a couple of things to write. I don’t know how soon I’ll actually get to writing them, but I wanted to hear some opinions. Also, I’m officially adding Resident Evil, The Thundermans, and Kid Danger to the list of fandoms I’ll write for!

Donnie(Rise) x Amnesia!reader - "This is it." (romantic)

Until Dawn x Bratty!reader - "Let's get down then." (platonic)

Leon S. Kennedy x reader - "Power duo." (platonic)

Korra x waterbender!reader - "I beg your pardon?" (romantic)

Max Thunderman x reader - "Weren't you?" (romantic)

I already have a pretty solid idea of how the first, second, and fifth ones would go since I’ve been making scenarios for them in my head for a while now. Still, I’d love to hear your thoughts, ideas, or even requests! It might help me get back into writing again.

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real

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I'm so head over heels for the transformers masterpost! This creator is so good, and honestly I can't wait to read more of their work!! :DD

Autobots and Snowstorms

A/N: Did I hear you guys say ‘Transformers’? Yep, I’ve written another one, as requested. Hope you like it! :)

Title: Autobots and Snowstorms

Summary: Optimus Prime gets stuck in snow. Fun times ensue.

Words: 934

“I can’t believe you got us stuck in snow,” you grumbled, sighing heavily and leaning back against the seats of Optimus Prime’s car form. “It’s so cold.”

The engine revved in response, whether in indignation from your statement or another failed attempt to move from the large snowdrift his wheels were stuck in, you didn’t know. “Need I remind you,” he ground out, “it was you who suggested we go on a drive. You. Not me. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you it wasn’t a good idea.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to me, then.”

“No, you’re right. Remind me of that in the future.” He revved his engines harder, this time a little more forcefully, but there was still no sign of movement. You sighed again and turned your head to look over your shoulder, eyes catching sight of the rows of people in cars behind you, desperately trying to move themselves. If it weren’t for them, you and Optimus would probably be safely back at NEST, but the Autobots’ new condition for being allowed to stay on Earth was that they minimise the amount of times they show their appearance to the people on this world. To disregard that now would probably have consequences, especially if it were done by the leader of the Autobots himself, and so the two of you were forced to stay put until trucks came to dig out the snow around the cars’ wheels and set them free.

“It’s no use, Optimus, it won’t work,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself and shivering. He stopped revving and you felt the rumble of his deep sigh.

“I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“I’m fine. There are loads of people behind and in front of us; they’re all probably feeling the same. I’m sure someone will come help us soon.”

“Can you still not get any mobile service?” You reached over for the phone you’d placed on his dashboard and switched it on, shaking your head a couple seconds later. The snow had come so suddenly and had most likely affected the power lines.

“No. Can you not reach ‘Bee? Or ‘Hide?”

“Unfortunately, our communication methods work differently when we’re on Earth. Like your telephones, we rely on your electricity to power it. So, no.” He went quiet for a moment and you couldn’t help the small smile that quickly took place on your lips. It was almost funny to see the famous leader of the Autobots completely at a loss for what to do and practically panicking. “Stop smiling.”

You’d forgotten he could see you.

“Sorry, Optimus, it’s just- we’re going to be fine, okay? You know that, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“You don’t seem like you do.”

“Well, little wolf, I do. Now, quiet down and sleep… or something.”

You had to laugh at that. “Sleep? It’s lunch time.”

“Shush.”

“Stop panicking.”

“I am not-” You let out a yelp as he shook himself, causing you to ungracefully fall to the floor beneath his front seats- “panicking.”

“AH! Optimus!” you growled, groaning while simultaneously rubbing your aching arm. That Autobot could be so damn frustrating.

“Quiet. I’m trying to think.”

“Well, don’t try too hard, else you’ll hurt yourself.” You didn’t believe you’d receive a response to that as he didn’t speak immediately after, but you found, as you finally made your way back to the seat only to be shaken off again, he was simply waiting for the right time.

“Optimus!” you ground out.

“Do not be imprudent.”

“Then stop being such a-

“Hello, Optimus!”

“AHH!”

“Primus!”

Bumblebee’s car form quickly backed away as Optimus jumped and the two of you shouted in surprise. The younger ‘Bot’s optics rapidly blinked in shock from the sudden fright. “Uh- are you okay?”

Optimus made a noise that could only be described as the equivalent to a human clearing their throat before responding to the yellow mech. “Yes, Bumblebee, we are fine. You just surprised us.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Sir, it won’t happen again.”

You sat up and knocked on the window for Optimus to roll it down. “Hey, ‘Bee!”

“Y/N, are you okay? Sam’s frantic back at NEST. None of us knew where either of you were, but once we found out you’d gone for a drive, we realised something must have happened. Myself and a few others split up to find you, and now that I have, I need to go back and let them know so they can come and help you out. Will you be alright while I’m gone?”

“Yes, thank you, Bumblebee,” Optimus said, accompanied with a sigh of relief. “But I must insist you take Y/N back with you. I don’t want her to get sick with the human flu and, quite frankly, she is annoying me to no ends.”

Both you and the yellow Bug laughed at that, and you patted the Autobot’s seats. “Sorry, Optimus. I was just bored.”

“Yes, I know. Boredom can make you do irritating things.” He swung his door open and you wasted no time in jumping out, yelping as you plunged straight into deep snow, your thin trainers and socks getting soaked in no time. ‘Bee drove forward a little and opened his own door, closing it as soon as you got in.

“I’ll be back shortly, Sir,” he said.

“Thank you. Be good, Y/N.”

You laughed. “When am I not?”

When are you not, indeed, Optimus thought to himself as he watched ‘Bee drive off. He had to smile, though. Coming to Earth had been the greatest decision of his life.

Transformers Masterpost

[sc4rrc]

"Fire doesn't stop, it blooms."

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- Zuko x wife!reader - Head cannons - "Fire doesn't stop, it blooms." - Fluff - Warnings: None

A/N: I'm actually sorry for being gone so long, but things were more complicated in these last few weeks than I would have liked them to be. With all the exams I had, going through a writer's block and losing motivation, I just needed some time to cool off. But I'm back now, and I am hopefully going to stay because I am very excited to take requests in once again!

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Honestly, I think he would make a wonderful husband in so many ways. You stood by him through all the struggles and pain, even during the pivotal moment when he had to make a choice that forever changed his role in the war. He’d want to show you just how much that meant to him. Whether through physical affection, thoughtful gifts, or heartfelt words of affirmation, he’d find ways to express his gratitude.

He has a way with words—always knowing just what to say and when to say it. He never hesitates to share his perspective, especially when he thinks you need to see things from a different angle. Pampering you would be second nature to him; he’d see it as his responsibility to make sure you have everything you deserve. And when the sun sets and the moon takes its place in the night sky, there wouldn’t be a single evening where he didn’t remind you of your worth.

That being said, not everything would come as naturally. Having grown up in a household where sharing fears and anxieties was reserved for his mother and uncle, his ability to communicate his own negative emotions is still a work in progress. Losing his mother at a young age and enduring the trauma of a father who criticized any emotion that didn’t meet his expectations shaped him deeply. Opening up about his feelings would take time and effort to improve.

On nights when he dreamed of his mother, he would wake with a shiver running up his spine, his eyes darting around until they found you. Yet, even as fear clawed at his soul, he refused to talk about it. You’d wake to the sound of his uneven breathing, gently calm him, and ask what was wrong. But he would deny it—deny it until the weight of it consumed him from the inside. And for that moment, you understood.

But you reminded him that, as his partner, the two of you were a unit. If your burdens were his to carry, then his were yours as well. You asked him to let you in, to let you help, and you promised to say it as many times as he needed to hear it. On the nights when another nightmare took hold of him, you whispered reassurances and held his hand as lightly as you could. Of course, you weren’t blind to what troubled him—You are his wife. You knew.

Together, you’re working to bring him a sense of security. His father can no longer hurt him; he has you to stand beside him through every hardship, and for him, that is enough. On a brighter note, he would definitely make a much better father himself—caring, affectionate, and present. When you gave him your first child, a little girl, no celebration in the nation could rival his joy. Holding the tiny miracle you both created, sleeping soundly in his arms while you took the well-deserved rest by his side, he couldn’t help but want to linger in that moment just a little while longer.

His little family, safe and sound right beside him, was everything. With the birth of his daughter, he reminded himself that there was now another heart to protect. Much smaller, less experienced, but he could already sense the strength in her—she would grow to be a fighter, just like her mother. This was his legacy: to break the cruel, poisonous chain that had defined his family for generations. He would protect the both of you with his last breath, proving to the spirits of his ancestors that fire doesn’t have to destroy—it can also ignite new beginnings. ════════════════════

A/N: With how tired I am at the moment, I lost complete sense of how much this took to write. It wasn't that long, I think.. But, considering that it is currently 02:40 AM and I have not slept since 12 PM, this was fairly easy to do. I've just been thinking about making this for a bit and decided that this ungodly hour is the perfect moment. I am going to sleep now, but I hope anyone who reads this likes it! - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[sc4rrc]

Heyy pookie <3

could you maybe write a 2012 Mikey x artist reader headcanons 🫣🩷

"A little bit of colour here."

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════════════════════ - 2012!Mikey x artist!reader - Head cannons - "A little bit of colour here." - Fluff - Warnings: None

A/N: I think I may be ticking off two things with this one, idk. The results of the pole had Mikey as most rated and then this came up, which was such a nice coincidence. I might do a second Mikey one shot/head cannon to match the pole again if I feel like it, but for now I will be marking both this and the pole as complete so I can focus on a more special request an anon had for me. ════════════════════

Mikey has always been full of energy and imagination, so it’s no surprise that art became such a big part of his life. At first, it was just something he loved doing for fun, but now it feels more like a part of who he is—how he expresses himself and even how he deals with things. Still, he never treats it like work. For Mikey, art is all about fun and freedom.

Give him anything to draw or paint with—a pencil, spray can, or even chalk—and he’ll turn it into something incredible. His ideas are out-of-the-box and unique, and it’s easy to see how much joy he gets from creating. If he finds out that you also see the world in a different way, even just a little like him, he’ll be thrilled. It’s not just about having fun together; it’s about sharing something really special.

He’d definitely ask you to pose for one of his pieces at some point. But let’s be honest—he definitely probably finished the artwork early and just wanted an excuse to sit and watch you. He’d happily admit it too, flashing you that proud grin like he’s just done the smartest thing ever.

When it comes to modern art, Mikey can be a little baffled. He tries, but some pieces leave him scratching his head. “Wait, so I’m supposed to feel shy because this pink triangle exists? Dude, it’s just a triangle.” He’s got plenty of jokes about it, but he secretly enjoys the challenge of trying to figure out what it all means—especially if it’s something you can talk about together.

Movie nights are a guaranteed source of inspiration for him. As soon as you mention a favourite character, he’s planning to draw them for you. It’s his little way of making you smile, and he’ll keep it up like clockwork—handing you a new drawing every week to remind you he’s thinking of you.

One of his favourite ways to hang out with you is working on art projects together. Whether it’s painting, doodling, or crafting paper flowers, he loves being right there beside you, cracking jokes and guiding your hand if you’re feeling stuck. For Mikey, it’s not just about making something cool—it’s about sharing those little moments and having fun while you do it.

What he loves most is that you share his passion for art. You don’t have to be experts or love every style, but the fact that you get it—at least the kinds of art you enjoy together—means the world to him. Those shared favourites? They’re what he treasures the most.

Mikey is the type to find inspiration anywhere. Whether you’re waiting for pizza, sitting in a park, or just hanging out, he’ll grab whatever’s nearby (a napkin, a notebook, anything!) and start sketching. He loves showing you his spur-of-the-moment creations and getting your thoughts on them.

He’d totally challenge you to silly art contests, like “Who can make the funniest doodle” or “Who can draw a pizza slice faster.” He almost always declares himself the winner, even if your drawing is better. “What? I had to handicap myself because I’m too good!” Cue the exaggerated victory pose.

Mikey is obsessed with graffiti and street art, always pointing out cool designs when you’re out together. He might even suggest you two try making a mural someday, just for fun—something colourful and meaningful that shows off your combined creativity.

Mikey is all about turning his art into little surprises for you. Whether it’s a mini painting, a personalized card, or a keychain he decorated himself, his gifts always feel thoughtful and one-of-a-kind.

════════════════════ A/N: I hope this makes up for the lack of activity I had this week. On the brighter side though, I only have 3 more days of exams next week and then I am pretty much free to write as I please! So, if there are any other requests people would like, I would be more than happy to have them in my inbox for when I can write freely again. - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[sc4rrc]

"Slow, calculated."

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════════════════════ - 2012!Leo x anxious!reader - Head cannons - "Slow, calculated." - Fluff - Warnings: None

Request: Head cannons of Leo with a partner who struggles with constantly feeling anxious about the smallest of situations, something which slightly worsens as she goes through her training as a Kunoichi. A/N: (This is based on my own issues with doubting myself about quite a lot of things. So please, don't assume that this would immediately apply to everyone else.) ════════════════════

Knowing that your concentration is suffering during training, Leo does his best to keep you grounded. He holds one of your hands as new techniques are explained, standing close by your side as you listen. When you start to spiral, he gently guides you to breathe out and silence the negative thoughts, just a few of the things he’s learned work well for you.

Your hands don’t really get sweaty when you’re nervous. In fact, they feel quite dry, which isn’t always the most satisfying sensation for you. But to Leo? He doesn’t care. Hand-holding is his go-to move for comfort, and it helps keep you from fidgeting or overthinking. Honestly, he adores holding your hands—he’d do it just as often even if anxiety wasn’t an issue. It’s a grounding gesture, for both of you.

Once, during a particularly rough time in your life, everything seemed to build up all at once. Family pressures, maintaining friendships, juggling college, and training to become a kunoichi—all of it felt like too much. Fighting alongside the turtles against constant threats didn’t make it any easier. You just broke down.

At first, you went radio silent. Messages stayed on “delivered” for longer than usual, something Leo noticed right away. When gentle check-ins didn’t work, his worry grew. Eventually, he made—broke—his way into your apartment to make sure you were okay.

What he found was hard to see. "Mess" didn’t even begin to cover it. You were bouncing from one task to another, trying to fix everything at once: reorganizing a shelf, rechecking assignments, cleaning dishes you’d already washed twice. It was like you were trying to outrun your own thoughts. When Leo tried to talk, question after question seemed to irritate you further. He backed off for a moment, watching the situation before stepping in gently.

Leo doesn’t fight your chaos with commands or frustration. Instead, he grounds you. He’s a steady presence, wrapping his hands around yours to still them as he quietly whispers, “Hey, breathe with me.” He doesn't stop until your breathing syncs with his—slow and deliberate. Once you’re calmer, he works with you to organize what’s on your mind, one step at a time, and reassures you that it’s okay to pause and prioritize yourself.

Leo quickly realizes that your anxiety spikes before training sessions, especially when new things are introduced or you're partnered for sparring. To help, the two of you take a few moments to stretch together, exchanging light banter or quiet reassurances. It's his way of easing you into the moment before the pressure begins.

After missions, Leo is always the first to check in with you. He knows how your mind tends to spiral over things like "Did I do enough?" or "What if I messed up and someone got hurt?" He’s firm but gentle, reminding you of the good you did, pointing out your contributions, and offering constructive advice only if you ask for it.

On nights when your thoughts won’t let you sleep, Leo sneaks out of the lair and comes to you. He brings your favourite tea (or whatever comforts you) and stays with you until you’ve talked out everything on your mind. If words are hard to find, he’ll gladly sit in companionable silence, offering his shoulder for support.

In group situations, Leo is incredibly observant of your moods. If he notices your anxiety creeping in, he’ll casually bump his hand against yours or rest a hand on your back for a second. It’s a discreet reminder that he’s there if you need him, without drawing attention to you.

As someone who practices mindfulness regularly, Leo starts encouraging you to meditate with him. At first, it’s hard for you to sit still or quiet your thoughts, but his patient guidance helps you find small victories. Over time, it becomes a shared practice, and you start to look forward to these peaceful moments with him.

If he senses you’re overcommitting yourself—whether it’s in training, missions, or personal life—Leo isn’t afraid to intervene. He gently reminds you that rest is as important as effort, even if it feels selfish to you. He loves you to bits, and wouldn't want to see you constantly hurt by your doubts. ════════════════════ A/N: I've done my best with this—but then again, I wasn't in the best of moods while writing it. Writing helps me when I'm feeling strong emotions about things, no matter if they are good or bad, but I am not sure how much it helped me right now. I've been a little down today, since I kind of got ditched by my best friend, so I am obviously kind of annoyed. But I hope everyone is happy with this set of head cannons. - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[sc4rrc]

Hi, Question before I make a request, What type of request do you write and what type of request are uncomfortable of? by the way your stories are beautiful.

════════════════════ Thank you for asking! (and for the compliment). I've already written in my first post what kind of things I am/not comfortable writing. But I can easily also list it here; What I WILL write: - Fluff/Angst, SFW, character x sibling!reader (platonic), parent!character x reader, platonic love, head cannons, different AUs (evil AU for example), suggestive What I will NOT write: - NSFW, 18+, character x character, age gap, incest shipping, incest, abuse, non-con, multiple characters x reader, cheating, gore, adult x child (romantic) Also, something I need to add to the second list is x readers where the reader has any disorders/disabilities(?). That is purely because of my lack of knowledge, as I do not want to insult or disregard anyone by making mistakes in my writing. Hope this helped you! And thank you again for reading my stories. ════════════════════