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#regular quote is not cool he is stinky (but i still love him)
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quote but COOL
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I Care - Starscream x reader (TFP)
Word count: 2,002 Warnings: Starscream being threatening A/N: I actually wrote this after watching Shrek and being somewhat inspired from the  quote, “I’m not the one a problem, okay? It’s the world that seems to have a problem with me!” It ended up straying away from my original idea and the quote, but it’s still good.
"What a fine mess you've got yourself into, (Y/n)" you sarcastically said to yourself as you climbed over a rotted log.
Since you had nothing go to do, you decided to take a hike with lovely Mother Nature. Life was getting hard to bear, so you took off without telling anyone. In hindsight, you should have brought someone with you, but the time you didn't particularly want to be around other humans. Well, you got what you wanted, because here you were: in the middle of nowhere, no one else around for miles, no cell phone reception, and utterly lost.
"It's okay," a whisper found its way out of your mouth, an attempt to calm you down. You undid the lid to your water bottle to take a sip. The water was slightly warm, however the wet liquid running down your throat and quenching your thirst was most welcome. To your dismay, when you screwed the lid back on, you noticed you were running low on water.
Grunting, you shook your head. "Everything will be alright in the end," you gasped. Yeah right. You will magically be fine, a negative voice in your head snapped.
Sighing, you pushed back the other voice. You needed to stay positive, being negative wouldn't do anything except put you in a bad mood. Staring up at the gap between leaves, you observed it was past lunch. The sun was beginning its descend through the sky after reaching its peak. Thankfully, the sky was clear and blue, save for occasional puffs sprinkled in the endless void of blue. It wouldn't rain. That was a good thing. But the trees stood tall above you make me feel small, insignificant, and hopeless. all you can do is pray for miracle to get you out...
 Grunting, Starscream held the scanner out and waved it around. "Why is it that there is so little energon on this wretched planet? And when I seem to need it the most?" he growled.
Scouting for Energon had become a regular activity. Fortunately he wasn't terribly low on Energon yet. That's why the seeker would constantly search for it, to prevent that event from ever occurring. The trees around him made it difficult to move around. Starscream didn't want to exhaust his energy knocking down trees in his way or cause any unnecessary attention. Humans were not typically in that area as far as he was concerned. Although he couldn't never tell with that planet.
Suddenly the device in his servo began beeping, signifying Energon was near. In his excitement, he turned a little too quickly. The Cybertronian's arm hit the a tree he was standing next to. A cracking sound ripped through the air as a branch was torn off and crashed to the ground. Starscream flinched at his mistake. Anyone in a two mile radius would have heard that. Then he relaxed when he remembered no humans were around even hear it.
...That's what he believed until click later when human girl came stumbling in.
The seeker was shocked to see you. Humans weren't supposed to be out that far in the forest. Could he ever get away from the species? Your eyes scanned around to find the source of the loud sound. He didn't have enough time to hide from you, nor did he have anywhere to hide.
“Whoa,” you let out, eyes shining with amazement when they landed on Starscream. It was a moment of silence and just staring at each other. You took a hesitant step out from behind the tree.
Starscream snapped out of it. Appearing startled could be considered a sign of weakness, and the last thing he wanted was to appear weak to one of your kind. He had to put on the act of being intimidating to scare you away, to gain respect and before you could take a picture of him and show him off like a freak like every other human did.
“Well,” he chuckled, “Look what I found here. Are you lost little girl?” He took a large step closer that shook the earth.
Temporarily, your face was filled with panic. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. After letting out a breath and licking your lips, you began again. “Yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting you either. What are you anyway?” Your inquisitive nature seemed to chase away any fear.
This answer surprised Starscream; that you so casually spoke as if this was normal. He tilted his head in confusion. It only lasted a nanoklick. Maybe the human was simply dumb, he concluded. Or brave, one of the two, however he suspected the first one.
“That doesn’t concern you,” he managed to answer. A thought came to him, if he tried to grab you, you were sure to run. He smirked sinisterly as he kneeled down and reached out “You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in others’ business.”
Instead of running like he anticipated, you simply moved out of the way and pushed his talons aside with the back of your hand. The feeling of a humans skin was foreign. It was soft and warm, nothing like metal, yet still firm.
“No thank you.”
His servo flinched back, taken aback by your behavior. “Strange,” he remained perplexed, “most fleshies run when I do that.”
“Well I’m not like ‘most fleshies’,” you replied with your hands on your hips.
A brief smile played on his lips, a sweet, happy one. Then he remembered that this was an inferior species he was speaking to. His grin turned into a scowl at the slip. Although you were… different, in a positive way.
“Well, that appears obvious,” he started marching away, following the temporarily forgotten trail of energon.
Overcome with curiosity, you began following him and asking questions. Moving your legs as fast as you could to stay beside him at the same pace. “Who are you? What’s that beeping thing?”
“The great Starscream.” He couldn’t resist answering the first question. Another tree was in his way that he had to swerve to avoid. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to whatever you humans do?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know how to get back, and I’m not in a hurry to either. So, are there others like you? Why are you here? Your wings look cool. Can you fly?”
Your fascination shocked him. No one ever wanted to know more about him or was genuinely impressed by him.
That definitely wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something that would last a long time, whether either of you wanted it or not.
 After you helped him collect energon from the cave in the forest, you decided to stay with him. He seemed to not be pleased when you asked, but let you come. Maybe it was because he enjoyed your praise and amazement. For that reason, you were more open with compliments whenever they came to mind.
When you heard the tree branch crack before, you were thinking that the sound could mean people, people that could rescue you. Although you didn’t feel like interacting with humans, it was better than being lost. Never in a million years would you except to find a giant robot, yet that’s exactly what you found. Strangely enough, you welcomed this more than you would if it was what you did expect. When you saw him, you were suddenly filled with curiosity and wanted to talk, which was a large comparison from your previous mood. In fact, you were a lot more talkative and cheerful around Starscream.
Now you were lived within the Harbinger, happy in the crashed ship with Starscream. It had been several months since you met him and everything was more than you could ever ask for. You should have made friends with a Cybertronian a long time ago. You learned more about the ex-Decepticon and grew closer to him every day.
Currently, Starscream was talking, leaning against a wall, sitting on a box with you on his shoulder. You managed to coax him out of working. He needed a break. It was fortunate you were there; otherwise he would have fried his processor several times by now. It was healthy and necessary for him to rest.
"I was simply so tired of being their punching bag, literally in Megatron's case. Airachnid betraying me was just the last straw," he recalled the reason he left the Decepticons. "That's when I found who I was, Starscream, servant to no one." His chassis puffed out slightly from pride.
"Yeah, I'm glad you left them. Forget about them," you waved your hand out to emphasize your point. "You don't need their approval and it's their lost that you left. You're amazing, cunning, and determined."
"Yes," he sighed, "But the others didn't seem to see that. I could never quite gain the same respect from the vehicons that Megatron had." Sadness filled his optics at the memories resurfacing.
"By not beating them up?” You sat up and leaned forward to stare him in the optics more effectively. “Judging by how it sounds, you were nicer. Megatron would throw someone out the airlock for failing, but you wouldn't. Megatron's mean. You're better. You'd make a much better leader."
A happy smile lingered onto his faceplate, but the remorse hung in his optics. "Thank you. Still... they treat me as if I'm a fool, mocked me. What if that were because I’m a piece of scrap? I've made many mistakes, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to succeed. Maybe that's the universe's way of telling me it wasn't meant to be. That I'm simply... a mistake. No one likes or appreciates me. I have no friends nor companion." In a normal situation, he would never tell this. He either trusted you, or held in the insecurities for so long that they now flowed out. "No one cares about me."
"Then what am I? A potato?" The seeker looked confused and lifted an optic ridge. Before he could question it, you continued, "Look, I know I'm only a stinky human. If I could become a Cybertronian, I would. But I would do anything to help you accomplish your goals or make you feel better. You’re my favorite person in the world.”
"Really? You think so?" Starscream perked up. "I'm not a failure?"
“You’re not a failure, you’re amazing. Sure, you’re not perfect, you have flaws. But I love you anyway. ” Before you could chicken out, you wrapped your arms around him in a loving hug and planted a kiss on his cheek.
The feeling of his cool metal against your lips was something you immediately decided that you loved. Why hadn’t you done this a long time ago? That thought made you remember why. That’s right; because he might get irritated and either avoid you or kick you out. With that returned memory, you pulled away to reduce the chances of him becoming disgusted. It was also to prevent Starscream from reacting and smacking you away while you were still in the action. What would he think if he assumed a human was attracted to him? Wait, were you attracted to him?
You sat straight with a smile on your face, pretending you weren’t at all embarrassed or afraid of what he thought. If he inquired, you’d claim it was just on the cheek. It didn’t count if it was on the cheek, right? It was obvious he was still in shock at this and hadn’t processed the show of affection. His grin grew, in happiness and awkwardness. Flustered, he heated up and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He opened his mouth, yet it hung open as he were lost for words. You laughed at this. However, you believed he actually liked it.
“If I knew you were going to react like that, I would have done it more often,” you teased. It was now official; you were definitely going to kiss him more often.
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liquidmcgarnagle · 5 years
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Que piensa; What do you think?
The diner was just another hole-in-the-wall built in to the Tower District.  One young and very beautiful woman was the only one on shift tonight even though there were seven people at the bar, and nearly all the booths were full.  He felt disgusted with the fact that she should have to put up with this as he snapped his finger in the air for service.  He hoped she hadn't actually seen him do it, but she was there right away with a fresh face.  
“Are you survivin' the night?” he asked.  “This place is packed!”  
 “Well, I like to think that I'll never get jaded, but I do get a little from a friend.”  She places her left pointer curled against the right side of her nose.  The thumb presses against her cheekbone and outward, opening her nasal passages and she sniffs cleanly in.  “It ain't so bad, just gotta keep on keepin' on ya know?  More coffee?”
“Thanks...” he squints at her chest, taking time to look without seeming pervert-y.  “Delia?  Delaila?  Diladid?  No wait...”  She chuckles.  He tilts his head to the side like a bird getting another vantage point for its food.  You know how they do.
“Cute...” she wants to roll her eyes, but she does so rapidly enough that no one notices.  Hard to fake sarcasm on the go.
“You know I can never tell when someone in the,” he air-quotes “service industry is having a good time with me, or just after tips.”  Gretchen sinks lower in to the booth reading Nietzsche.  It almost pissed him off the type of stuff she was reading these days, like she would start dressing in all black any minute now.        
“Ah, gotcha” double-tapping a click to his teeth like a check mark.  She worked hard even though she had substantive support.  He hated waiting on people; she must put up with a lot.  Jesus, He knew the owner too, and he was a dick.  Literally... his name was Richard.  
“So, you good then?”  she sniffs.  He can still see a little bit of white Halloween in the crevice between her thumb and forefinger.  He was always observant regarding psychoactives.  Why?  It was like something like that always finding him and staring straight in to his eyes.  Staring him down almost
“Um, naw, we're ok.  You doin' ok honey?”  She took off quickly emptying the coffee pot in to three different cups.  
“Miss, I had decaf” one of the patrons at a booth said.
“Then just drink a little bit Henry,” she retorted.  “Besides, I've always given you regular... you tip better when I sneak ya some.”  Henry shrugged his shoulders.  
“Don't address women, like that, or anyone for that matter.  It can be perceived as demeaning Dad.”
“Well, shit, maybe you should start calling me Mr. Dad?”  He was slightly embarrassed at the remark, but maybe she was right.  The times were changing and change made him very uncomfortable.  He thinks about all the changes in his life that he fought tooth and nail against and how they bit him in the ass.  The change happened and he didn't like the fight.  Ugh, he thought.  He missed not caring.  He missed the booze.  He missed the fun times he thought he had.  
“Are you familiar with honorifics Pop?” she asked snootily, knowing he had no idea.
“What do you think daughter?” curling roughly the way he called her to show he was a little pissed off at the educational lecture he was about to endure.  
“In Japanese culture, politeness is key.  After the feudal era, the status of people was highly important to contrast the lack of order during war.”  Stephen rolled his eyes.  Pissing him off gave her fuel for some reason; medieval fuel for a modern era.  She would 'sophen' him up a bit to get him pissed off enough to go to work today... this time.  
“So, honorifics are expressions of respect and endearment like the nature of a relationship when people talk with each other.  Like, if I was a student and you were my teacher, I would refer to you as senpai.  You would call mom, mama-chan.  I would call someone in a grade below me kohai.  You would refer to everyone around you as bozu cuz you hate everyone.”  She enjoyed teaching her father random stuff at random times.  He couldn't take it otherwise.  Knowledge had to be peppered on to him as if from the mill.  She couldn't tell him this or else he would figure it out and be shut out permanently; or at least until he forgot.  
“This is too much shit honey... fuck... shit... goddamnit...” he smacks the table hard, rattling the dishes.  You hear the spoon next to his daughter's cup of coffee.  She drinks it black referring to it as Mississippi Mud.  Mmm, smacking her lips every time she takes her first sip.  She falls in to her seat.  'that ain't right he says to himself.'  
“I am only saying that this is another way to think.  And it's nice, right?”
“Yes.  Yes it is Gretch.  But that kind of stuff would never fly here.  Everyone is just sitting in their own shit, thinking their better than everyone else, waiting for the right time to strike when the iron's hot and the people, ripe for the picking.  Let's talk about something else.  What'd you do in school today?”
“They had us take apart owl pellets.”
“What the hell are those?”
“Ok, you know, owls catch mice and eat 'em and stuff?  It's not like they have a knife and fork with their bib tucked in when they go to town,” she eyes how ridiculous her father looks with his done in.  It would be nice if the whole Beethoven look was still the style, but it's not.  “Well, they regurgitate whatever is left over from the carcass.  Owls eat the rodent.  Then, after their body sucks all the meat and nutrients out of it,” she imitates vomiting “Ughaah ughaah!”
“Oh, that's cool!  Not!  Haha,” he laughs at himself tritely.  “What the hell's the point?  I feel like they are wasting their time with this kinda shit.  My taxes pay for someone to go out, catch fucking shit-ton of owls, and go through their shit?!?”  
“Our tax dollars daddy.” responding slowly to make sure he doesn't feel so alone.  “And besides, that's not how it works.”
“Whatever,” he looks away and throws his arm in the air.  
“Alright what else?” he regretfully asks, but these are his fatherly duties, to know what's going on in the life of his offspring, especially at such an early age.  It's only our current cultural climate of capitalist consumerism that has begun to lay the tile of family disruption.  
“Well in health class after seeing all of those fucking STD's!  I find that sex can be summed up into this: 'a stinky yellow discharge.' And that's on both sides!” she doesn't care what she said.
“I told you to stop swearin' like that Gretch.”
“I like to think that I have a spice rack that sits on my tongue.  You haven't taken me Costco for a while.  And I'm all out of “like, really? damn and cun---”
“Stop right there young lady!  Goddamnit!  Sometimes I wish your mother was here to teach you how to speak proper.  But then I remember how big a' cunt she is.” looking off in the distance he moves his eyes towards her to make sure she knows he's fucking with her.
“How else am I supposed to put some flavor on what I say?” snickering.  
“You're smart, I know you'll think of something.”  He sighs with his forearms propping up his entire upper-torso.  He feels the weight of being a father in his brain.  It's emotionally exhausting.  What were the payouts?  What was the reason he had a kid in the first place?  Oh yeah.  
Such weird juxtaposition.  The dissociation of church and state.  The association between church and state.  Dangle the lusty lace in our faces while those we were supposed to love tell us what we think is wrong.  Just gotta explore.  Just gotta find out... find out... find out... for yourself.  
“You need any money for school tomorrow before I forget?” Stephen asks her squarely, and then immediately nonchalantly.  Gretchen looks around, slightly unsure, slightly disgusted, but she says something anyway.  
“I don’t know.  Look at everyone.”  Stephen looks around.  “What, you don’t see it?”
“See fuckin’ what?” he tries to take out the meat of the fuck as he speaks.  
“Look at how sad they all are.  We all come here to get something.  To get something we have to give something.  We feel bad that we have to have this exchange; always feeling that we’re being cheated, scammed, or not getting our money’s worth.  This has given life to this negative connotation with even receiving something for free, like ‘What do you want?’”
“This is the way the world works Gretch.  Scratch my back, I scratch yours.  Quid pro quo.  Nothing is free, except freedom.  They like to say it isn’t but that’s just one more piece of bait.  Tradition!!!”  he imitates Fiddler on the Roof.  
"I don’t want to accept it.  That cannot be the final say of how we turn out; hating the fact that we have to get together just to hate each other through barter.  And then!  And then we retreat back to whichever hole we found to hide from them,”  she is enamored with the anger and logical emotion she produced.
 “Look, I just don’t want people thinking I’m a deadbeat Dad.”  An obvious tweaker stumbles in like an electron firing in every direction.  The camera speeds up and slows down, like in Donnie Darko as the montage music plays.  The camera pans for the first time through Middlesex school depicting the main characters how the director wants you to see 'em.  His body parts flail while still seeming like he's about to fall over any second.  He walks toward the bathroom and stops dead.  He turns around looking at Stephen.  He collapses with his ass out and his elbows on their table, jumbling the words “How much?”
Stephen sticks his hand down his pocket, grabbing an ugly wad of cash and lots of change.  Gretchen grabs her backpack and stands on top of the trampoline-like pleathery booth.  She weighed practically nothing compared to the bounciness of the seat.  Stephen turns with the fist full of money and plows the presently degenerate right in the face as the cash flies everywhere.  The faces of the patrons all looked up at the scene, like a frozen applause.  Gretchen jumps in to the air towards her father as he's shaking his fist in painful disgust.  “Gretch!” he yells. “Fuck that hurt!”  He catches her and tucks her under his arm like a football; she and the backpack flailing beneath at the mercy of her father's panicked and happy gait.    
The camera pans upward: -25 to -32.5 degrees, quadrant IV of basic geometric circumstance...    Aside from the third dimension, vantage vector is at y=-1/3x +1, where the y axis presents the door, and the vantage point is just a few feet in front of and below Stephen and Gretchen; with Delia halfway out the glass door, waving the coffee pot in her outstretched and snowy appendage.  This is slow motion of course...
He says panting in run “I wish that pot pie place hadn't close hun.”
“I know Pop, we'll find another place soon.  I'll find somewhere we've never been before.  A unholy, holier hole in the wall, K?” her voice staccatos with every bounce, like when a baby is trying to make noises when you bounce it on your knee.  It sounds funny.  
“Fuck, that's the third place this week.”  
“I know Dad.”
You know I love you Gretch.  Everything ”
“I know Dad.”  They are both smiling while he sprints heavily away with his most prized possessions.
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