I Worked So Hard On This So I Want You Guys To See It Too 😂

older brother! shoto taking you to the park every time there was a fight

you telling him to grow out his hair and not touching it till you tell him to cut it

physically fighting endeavor atleast once and him letting it happen

him highkey being into photography and u being his muse resulting in him constantly taking pics of you in vulnerable states

him copying every thing he sees you do and i mean everything because he just thinks youre so cool and loves you so much

dad!shoto picking up crocheting just to make lil booties and hats for the baby

imagining a love-struck shoto following you around because he just doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. and when you confront him he’s just like 😄🥰 cause you’re finally showing him attention.

“stop following me like a lost puppy.” you rolled your eyes, finally turning around to confront your tail.

“but I like you.”

“i’ve told you this already, you do not like me.”

“why not?”

“because you can’t like me.” this seems to surprise him for a second, causing him to stop and think.

“but-“ he began, almost second guessing himself. “mina and jirou told me that when your heart quickens and your palms get sweaty around someone then you like them. so you should know that i like you.” his eyes bored into yours as if this was common sense, hand going to grab yours.

“see, your hand fits perfectly in mine.” his fingers clasped onto your hand.

rolling your eyes at his whole charade you turned and continued walking, hand in hand.

KYLE MACLACHLAN as Zack Carey Showgirls (1995) dir. Paul Verhoeven

why do i feel like shoto would overhear the word dookie then try to call you it after

like on sum “hey lil dookie” then u just burst out laughing and he’s just there like 🙁

☞𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴; will schofield

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; angst, war trauma, ptsd, arguments, smut included

..••°°°°••..

“ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ

ⁿᵉᵃʳᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᶠᵃʳ

ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵈᵉᵃʳ

ʷʰᵉʳᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ,”

The soft summer breeze sifted around your bare legs as you sat in your backyard. It was the beginning of April and you could already see the summer pink blossoms on the trees. Thus marking today the perfect day to have a barbecue. You & Will’s friends; Amy and Booker - whom he had met in the war - to spend the day with you.

“Oh, look at those clouds.” Booker exclaimed, hand equipped with a charred spatula flicking up towards those sky.

“Yes, they always look so beautiful this time of year.” Amy calmly noted as she sat in the lawn chair next to yours with a glass of lemonade in hand, handing you one as well.

“You tend to find yourself looking up a lot,” Booker murmured, eyes wandering a bit. A habit you often found your own William doing. A mindless habit, one you probably would never notice if you weren’t aware of what the two young men had been through. Booker never seemed to finish his sentence as Will walked out the house with a case of beers.

You stared at your fiancé’s back as he set the case on the table which also held various buns, condiments and drink for your little get together. It had been your idea at first, enlisting your neighbor and long time friend Amy who then convinced her husband for the barbecue. You had known Amy for years, originally growing up together then being there for each other as you both watched those you loved walk in to battle, some never returning.

But Will did, and you couldn’t wish for anything else. Every day spent waiting in the living room for that knock at the door, every night staying awake with the thought of his face - it eventually turning blurred and scarred behind your eyelids.

Yet even when he had came back, you felt some part you loved of him had been left and not to be returned. Forever lost on that battlefield with the remains of the war and other lost soldiers never to return to their families. And you hated to say it but you missed it. You missed when he would happily kiss your forehead, not grimace at the sight of your eye contact. You missed him yet there he stood.

Which is what he had done often since he had returned. He stood with a odd sense of uncertainty, that of a ex-soldier that was waiting to be ordered to return to the battlefield. His back - that he rarely let you caress anymore - seemed to shake with tension. You lowered your eyes as your heart ached, mind trailing back to the multiple arguments you both had had on the subject of his return. Where you would scream for him to just look at you again, with that look he once held of you. That look that held so much love and not sadness. Where he would just stare at you before leaving the house, not returning for hours. Your heart yearned for a man that had been lost amidst bullet showers and smoky fire.

As the soft jazz continued, suddenly Amy jumped up in excitement. The unexpected noise from the chair snapping shut undoubtedly causing the rigid tremor in Will’s throat. “Oh, I adore this song!” She sang, putting her finished cup on the side table.

“Yes, we know dear.”

“Mm, dance with me, Book.” She muttered as she kicked off her peach heels. You smiled at the image of your friends.

“Darling, I’ve gotta tend to the food.” He sang in the same tune. He seemed he didn’t mean his words though as Amy’s hand would later replace the spatula. They would enter a rehearsed routine to the jazz number. Their bodies seemed to melt into tune with each other as if they were made for one and other. You stood from the chair softly, smile still tight as you silently cheered on your friends.

In an effort to show your admiration to your fiancé, you turned to where he had just stood yet the yard was barren. This instantly took the smile from your face replacing it with worry. Had he gone again? Not to be seen for hours?

Leaving the jazz and laughter behind, you walked into the eerily silent house. It was empty save for your dog which you had gotten to keep you company all those years. You started with the entryway then the kitchen yet no sign of Will. Finally hearing a soft thump from the floor above you, you began your way upstairs to the bedroom where he awaited.

“William?” You whispered, slowly moving the door open with your fingers.

“Y-yes, I’m here.” He responded from within.

Your feet hesitantly trailed inside, eyes uncertain of what it may see. He sat with his back to you, crouched over attending to something on the floor.

“Are you oka-“

“I just needed a moment, is all.” He quickly shut you off.

Silence befell you both as the soft pangs from the vibrations of the music outside sounded throughout the room. Whenever he was like this you had zero idea how to comfort him. It was like he was a rose, beautiful but hurt to touch. Moments would pass before either of you would speak again.

You stood in place in front of the door as Will rose from the bed, car keys in hand. You starred at his clenched fist as he crossed the room to retrieve his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Seemingly not hearing your question, Will continued stopping in front of you, waiting for you to clear his path.

“Will,”

“I need to go.” He refused to make eye contact with you.

“William, please.”

“Move.” He muttered.

You didn’t speak. You had never seen him like this. His hands clenched tight, arms rigid and unmoving. It scared you for he was almost unrecognizable.

The next moments would go by in a flash. Will would slam the keys on the stand next to you, turning his back to you. You jumped backwards at the speed of his movements. His back seemed to rise and fall abnormally like he was out of breath. He moved across from you, resting his hands on the dresser that stood on the opposite wall.

Despite every bone in your body telling you to leave him, you stayed. You slowly began to move his timid breathing. You now stood behind him, hands hesitantly moving up his back but not touching it out of fear. “Will?” You murmured, finally trailing his muscles. “Baby?”

His back jumped at your touch before slowly relaxing. You felt it vibrate under your fingertips as he seemed to speak. “Hmm?”

It was then he would turn around, eyes slowly trailing up your form to meet with yours. They seemed to scream at you yet he stood perfectly still inches in front of you. Both your bodies pulled towards each other in a almost mindless motion.

Your hands carefully rose up to cup his face bringing towards yours. You both would envelope into a small kiss as if you both were slowly testing a invisible waters within each other. Slowly backing up towards the bed, you both helped the other undress.

Your fingers would make a symphony of his scars as you caressed his chest. He touched you as if you had blossomed into something new, marking words into your flesh to be revised later. You knew he’d come back yet he showed you he had never left. He showed you he had never truly left, that his touch had resided on you, his words traced your being.

He may have been through death itself yet you loved the man who walked out of it. And his touch assured you that you’d find him, wherever he was.

Simon "Ghost" Riley // Gilded Reaper Operator Skin

fine.. FINE! Dis skin gonna be mine, soon

“is that the best you can do?” simon asked, chuckling underneath his mask. he was supposed to be training you but you could barely land a punch on the six foot soldier.

“fuck you.” out of breath, you put your hands on your knees in an effort to catch your breath. “quit going easy on me.”

suddenly reinvigorated, you get back into your stance, preparing to try again. locking eyes with your opponent, you attempt a two hit combo only for him to block each once again.

“fuck!”

“nice moves.” soap entered the room, sipping on a cup of coffee. “try going for his legs, fuckers too big for his own good.”

taking his advice you readied your stance for one last time. with a surprise attack, you slid on the ground, using pure strength to hopefully knock him over. suddenly out of no where your vision went black.

“you’re crushing me.”

“i’ve been waiting for you to kick my ass.” Simon said, helping you up.

“thanks for the show, guys.” Soap laughed.

Björk in Alexander Wang Bridal (2000) ph. Nick Knight

“She looks fucking gorgeous.” Shoto opted not to respond to the comment choosing instead to focus on the soft rain that cascaded down his window pane.

With the soft plat! of the magazine on his wooden desk, however, Shoto begrudgingly made eye contact with his former classmate.

He had previously sat comfortably in his chair but now he shifted with uncertainty as the air around him squeezed him in shame.

“She does.” He agreed, looking down at the braided coils and brown skin that donned the magazine cover.

The soft plattering of water echoed on the walls around the two men as neither looked up from the thin paper booklet.

“You fucked up letting that one go.” The hero spoke again after a few beats. The palpable energy in the room rivaled that of a battle zone. Two men who seemingly once had everything and lost it all.

“There’s nothing better you have to do, Bakugo?”

“Ha, then rub this shit in your face?” Shoto let out a sigh.

“Y’kno, when you got her in the end, I swallowed my pride for her sake,” He smirked but his red eyes glowed in the dark room, screaming with something deeper than petulant contempt. “Turns out I gave her up for some righteous bastard who doesn’t even know what he got.“

The wind swirled outside as Shoto sat in silence in the dimmed room. He knew he was right.

“Fix it.” He spat.

hiii I just wanted to let you know that I love how you write !!! You should continue writing bc I literally love it when you appear on my tl 💗💗

omg my heart tysm 🥰😭😭 i shall continue to write just for u anon 🤞