#[vic’s] ❤️ heavy

[ask-the-red-fem-mercs]

Are.. Are women real?

no

[vics-fem-fortress]

Intro Post

Hello! This is an ask blog for my fem fortress OCs.

Yeah, no. This project got out of hand before it even went public. If you want, you CAN still ask questions/give suggestions about characters! Just know I'll be responding to it, not my OCs, and that this is now nothing more than a place to showcase my characters. I have a new ask blog for only the RED team, and I might add the other characters if I find friends who are into TF2 (because I only trust people I know IRL to run a blog with me, at least at this point.)

follow the ACTUAL ask blog @ask-the-red-fem-mercs

My main is @ilovegayvampires

Find more info about them on my Unvale

Characters listed under the cut (there are a lot lol).

— R.E.D. —

Scout ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ scout

Soldier ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ soldier

Pyro ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ pyro

Demo ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ demo

Engineer ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ engineer

Heavy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ heavy

Medic ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ medic

Sniper ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ sniper

Spy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ spy

— B.L.U. —

Scout ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 scout

Soldier ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 soldier

Pyro ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 pyro

Demo ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 demo

Engineer ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 engineer

Heavy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 heavy

Medic ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 medic

Sniper ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 sniper

Spy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💙 spy

— Backups —

Scout (1) ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💜 scout [1]

Scout (2) ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💜 scout [2]

Demo ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💜 demo

Heavy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💜 heavy

Sniper ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] 💜 sniper

-Additional tags (tumblr only lets me have so many)

#Sniperspy yuri

#vic’s fem fortress

#vic’s art

#demospy Yuri

#engiedemo Yuri

[srorgana1]

Honoring the Past

Rock Star Kylo Ren/Reader

Warnings: physical and mental abuse of a child, alcoholism, mentions of homophobia, and lots of complex emotions

Huge thanks to my amazing friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman ❤️

A cackle of laughter hits Kylo’s ears as he enters D’Kar Studios. He smirks, settling his helmet on his hip as he sees Taylor "Trax" Johnson, DeeDee and the front desk clerk Amelia laughing jovially at something on Trax’s phone. It still amazes him how different it is here compared to First Order Records. He remembers how stuffy and by the book it was. There was no joy, no smiles, just cut-throat business practices and the music that fueled in. He thanks the deities above for letting him finally see the light and detach himself from that toxic black hole of a company.

DeeDee turns to him, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Hey Kylo” she says through giggles “you all are set up in Room #3 today.” He nods at them, and heads down the hallway. He turns left at the intersection and takes in the various awards and accolades adorning the walls. He sees their platinum award proudly displayed under a shadow box along with a vinyl sized picture of the front of the Trials and Errors album. It broke records in sales and downloads and won them multiple awards. It showed the industry that success could be done differently.

He scans the walls at the other awards from other artists proudly displayed alongside. It didn’t matter here if you were fresh off YouTube or one of the biggest names in the scene, you were treated equally with respect and kindness. You were part of the D’Kar family. Kylo can attest it’s a great fucking place to be.

He sees the record light lit above Room #3. Looking through the window his brows crinkle slightly in confusion. He was used to seeing you at the soundboard with your custom sparkly blue Bose headphones on. But no, you are in the studio room alongside D’Kar’s videographer Vincent recording Vic on your phone. Why is the record light on then if you're both in there? His hand squeezes the doorknob and twists, entering silently.

A wave of nostalgia hits him as the haunting melody of Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) floats on the cool air-conditioned air. His head snaps to the large window as Vic hits the strings of his acoustic guitar, transitioning into the well-known chorus.

It’s something unpredictable

But in the end, it’s right

I hope you had the time of your life

Kylo sets down his motorcycle helmet on the soundboard and leans on his hands, losing himself in a memory…

He is twelve years old, walking down the sun baked sidewalk. His worn and dirty Converse slap the concrete below, a size too small for his rapidly growing feet. The strap from his heavy book bag digs into his shoulder. He looks at the watch on his wrist. The cracked electronic screen blinking up the time. He cannot go home yet. His dad is still there.

The healing burns on his shoulder flares upon thinking about it. He shifts his bookbag away from them, hiding a wince. He got off easy this time and he knows it. He was dumb and thought he wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

The sad thing is that it’s something he learned a long time ago through multiple bouts of blood, tears and broken bones. You cannot rely on or put your trust in others. It’s the only way for you not to get hurt.

So he continues on with no real destination. He could’ve stayed at school but it would have just raised more questions. He hated when they tried to pry. Just as much as the looks he got from the other kids, whispering snide comments on his height or his hair or his ratty clothes. He knew they would never truly understand. So he held it all in and walked, hoping someone or something would give him a sign that things would get better.

He stops under a shop awning to get a reprieve from the hot Arizona sun. He leans on the bricks, wiping his sweaty black hair out of his eyes. He watches the busy street, the cars and people heading here and there. The various shops bouldering the open air flea market across the street are buzzing with people. Maybe he could sneak in and grab a sandwich again. The nice lady who runs the arepas stand may turn a blind eye like she has before. His mind made up, he takes a step towards the flea market to be stopped in his tracks by the unique sound of music hitting his ears.

For some unknown reason, he turns and heads towards the music. It invades his senses, calling his soul forward. His dad never played music at home, only hateful talk radio. Said it reminded him of his good for nothing bitch of a mother. To be honest, Kylo doesn’t really remember her. She left when he was little. He totally gets why she left though. He just wishes she brought him with her. Anywhere had to be better than here.

He comes to a dingy little shop squished between the payday loan place and the barber shop. How has he missed it before when he has walked most of the streets on this side of town? Regardless, the music rings out the open door like a siren call. Kylo’s feet lead him closer. A small sign hangs overhead matching the peeling paint on the bay window. Corellia Records. The song changes to a more soulful tune, but still with as much power as the one before.

He stands at the threshold looking in cautiously. The space is small and dimly lit. Rickety shelves line the walls full of albums and other what he assumes is musical equipment. The back wall behind the glass counter has multiple instruments hanging. A portly greasy looking man in a stained gray t-shirt and an ill fitting fedora is standing by one of the tables, shuffling through a box while grumbling to himself.

Kylo shuffles in slowly, taking in more of the shop. The song ends as the man looks up at him. “What you need kid?” he says gruffly. Kylo immediately freezes and looks at his shoes, already able to feel this man’s agitation. “Um” he starts, suddenly wishing he had not entered. “Hey kid, it’s okay. What do you need?” the voice comes again. He can smell the man’s musty body odor as he takes a step towards him. He reactively flinches, pulling his book bag closer to himself.

He continues to stare at his shoes as the man sighs and shifts away from him, groaning as he sits on the stool behind the counter. It squeaks loudly under his weight. “You like music kid?” he asks, switching out the record on the record player and pulling a bag of Cheetos Puffs from below. The man opens the bag and shakes it towards him. The classic smell hits Kylo’s nose, making his mouth water almost instantly. “I can tell your hungry kid. Come and have some” he gruffs.

He eyes the man as he slowly walks up, placing his book bag on the floor and hopping up on the adjunct stool. The music is louder over here and seems to flow through him. He shuts his eyes as his body reacts to the emotion of the music. “You like Soundgarden kid? I feel this album is one of their best” the man says, placing the ripped open bag on the counter. Kylo grabs a couple and stuffs them in his mouth, moaning at the delicious taste of orange artificial cheese.

He takes a couple more before answering. “No, I don’t know who that is. I just, i don’t know… i just like it” he says in a small voice. The man hums to himself, taking a Cheeto for himself. “I feel ya there. Music has always spoken to me as well. Led me to some awesome places. Made me believe in the better of people.” Kylo looks up at him, strangely feeling a connection to this man. “I can tell by your eyes kid, you’re the same. My name’s Raf, what’s yours?”

Kylo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t notice you, Vic and Vincent watching him with concerned eyes. He’s too lost in his memories.

Raf became the pseudo-father figure Kylo needed. So much more than his drunk of a father could ever dream of being. He offered Kylo a job at the shop, saying he couldn’t pay him much but it was there if he wanted it. Kylo took him on his offer instantly. From only a couple of interactions, he found out that Raf had once been in a band, playing guitar and bass. Left the band years ago over creative differences and used the royalties to open the shop. He always said he felt he was meant to give back and help inspire the next generation.

He taught Kylo how to appreciate the classics. The Beatles, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Patsy Cline, Queen, Chuck Berry, The Stones, The Eagles, ACDC, Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Tom Petty, The Cure, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Leadbelly. Showed him how musical influences never really change, they just meld and flow into the next generation. Just like the notes on the wind.

They figured out a schedule, with Kylo working the four days his father worked the late shift. He would race there after school, working the counter and unpacking boxes as Raf quizzed him on music history. He then started teaching Kylo how to play keyboard and then eventually guitar, saying learning both would instill the notes in faster. He was gruff but fair in his style of teaching but never cruel, allowing Kylo to make the necessary mistakes without judgment.

As the years went on, his home life got worse. There were multiple times he would come in battered and bruised. Raf would fix him up and then would let him stay in the back, popping open a cold Jarritos for him. He would give him a pained look before leaving Kylo to the boxes.

At fourteen, Raf recommended Kylo to play at the local Cantina’s open mic night. Said it would be good for him to try it out and to test out his skills in front of others. Kylo will never forget that night for as long as he lived. He stood backstage at Los Nopales, his body wracked with nerves. He remembers shaking and his sweaty hand almost staining the wooden neck of his borrowed guitar.

His name was called followed by some random applause. He took a shuddering breath and walked out under the spotlight, sitting on the stool and attempting to fix the microphone to his height. It squeaked and slid all the way down, hitting the guitar with a thud. A couple people laughed and shook their heads. He fixed it quickly, his cheeks burning hot. He looked up and saw Raf by the bar, his rotund self settled on a bar stool. He nodded at him with kind eyes, silently saying you can do this.

He nodded back and focused on the feeling of the guitar in his hands. The sound of bottles clicking and the low murmur from the crowd. It’s oddly centering. He shuts his eyes and lets himself be enveloped by the energy. He strummed the opening chords, letting himself get lost in the notes. Letting the music carry him away. His rendition of Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi brought the crowd to their feet. He left the stage with a smile on his face and his heart full to see Raf’s face full of pride among the others.

He played there off and on, often on weekends. He would sneak out after his Dad passed out or left for the bar, hopping on the bicycle Raf gave him. Raf was almost always there when he performed, a glass of cold beer in front of him and a big grin on his face. It was something that struck Kylo to the core. How good it felt to have someone believe in him.

But life decided to remind Kylo of his reality. One weekend afternoon when Kylo thought his old man was out cold, he left and headed to the shop. The hot dry air hit his face as he petaled down the street, excited for his shift.

He recently had gotten into a couple newer bands: Foo Fighters, Green Day and Linkin Park. Raf had laughed and rolled his eyes when he caught Kylo rocking out in the back to them, saying how much he could hear Depeche Mode and Rage against the Machine in their sounds. Regardless, he let Kylo order some along with some other bands and they were due to be delivered today.

Kylo parked his bike and chained it up, concerned with the yelling from inside the shop. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of a familiar voice. Please no, he prayed as he slowly walked out of the alley and to the front door. His heart sank in his chest to see his wreck of father cornering Raf by the counter, a threatening finger in his face. Raf stared down the irate man, his large face stoic. His eyes catch Kylo behind him, worry flashing in his dark brown irises.

“I knew you were coming here boy” his father snarled, turning from Raf to him. His feral anger emanated from him as he cracked his neck. “When I heard from Pedro that he saw you playing at the Cantina, I knew this is where you were sneaking off to you little shit” Kylo gulped and watched him in fear as he began to pace. It was a sign of bad things to come.

“C’mon man, he’s just a kid” Raf said, pushing himself off the counter. “DON’T TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY BOY!” his father roars, knocking a box of vinyls to the floor. Kylo winced at the sound of them smashing to pieces. “You come here now” he snarled. Kylo took a breath, knowing he cannot get out of this. If he fights it’ll be ten times worse. He walked up to his father slowly, yelping when his hair was grabbed roughly. “You will never come back here” he voice getting louder “you will never play at that Cantina again and you will never see this fat fucking faggot ever again. Do you understand me!?”

As much as Kylo was scared, he couldn’t take his eyes off Raf. The pain in his eyes mirrored his. He suddenly knew why Raf had been so nice to him at the beginning. He had experienced this. He had his own abuser and was reliving it with Kylo.

It gave Kylo the strength to do what he needed to do. He pulled away, hissing through the pain of his hair being ripped out at the root. He shut his eyes and swung, colliding with his father’s jaw. A shot of pain shoots through his hand and up his arm. He groaned through ragged breaths, holding his arm to his chest. “Ky” a gruff voice said. The voice of his anchor through all this fucking bullshit.

He opened his eyes to see Raf’s eyes wet with tears and his father out cold on the floor. His arm throbbed hotly. “I’m calling the cops Ky, this needs to end” Raf said as he rounded the counter, heading for the back. It was then that Kylo noticed a silvery scar under the tattoo on Raf’s neck, so similar in shape and size to ones he had on his shoulder. “How’d you get out Raf?” Kylo grits out through the stabbing pain. “Music my boy, and I suggest you do the same,'' he responded softly. Kylo nodded as he watched Raf’s wide body disappear behind the wall.

The cops came quickly, escorting both Kylo and his father to the hospital. They set Kylo’s broken hand and arm and questioned him about what happened. He told them everything. They wrote down everything, giving him that pitied look. He hated it. They escorted him home so he could get his meager belongings and was thankfully sent to stay with Raf until the trial.

During that time he recommended Kylo to file for emancipation. He was plenty old enough to and met the qualifications with a job to support himself and had a place to stay. Why not, Raf had said, you’re more of a man now then your father ever was. It was a better option than getting sent to some shitty foster care setup until he aged out.

The courts took their time, but ultimately granted Kylo his emancipation and his father a prison sentence. He continued to play at open mics and work odd jobs along with the shop. He was happy for once. He was doing what he loved and had someone who believed in him.

The day after his sixteenth birthday, Raf told him of an opportunity of a lifetime. It was a job at Raf’s cousin’s restaurant in Los Angeles which came with a small studio apartment and a promise he could perform at every open mic night there. Raf knew it was Kylo’s dream to have his name in lights, to play his guitar for the masses. LA is where music and dreams are made and Kylo deserved to get his shot. He graciously accepted, crying into Raf’s shoulder. He helped Kylo prepare, all the while giving random snippets of advice and pointers on the music industry there.

On a hot April morning, Raf drove Kylo to the bus depot. They sat side by side on the bench until his bus was called. He told Kylo to wait a moment as he huffed and puffed back to his car. Kylo stood there confused with his small tattered duffle bag and second-hand suitcase. As Raf turned back, he saw a familiar leather case. He knew inside was Raf’s vintage Fender, the same one he learned to play on.

Kylo tried to decline but Raf refused to take no for an answer, saying it was his now and to make him proud with it. He hugged him and thanked him, promising he would do his fucking best. He hopped on the bus with teary eyes, and watched his guardian angel fade as the bus pulled away.

He never saw Raf again. He passed away two years later from heart failure. By that time Kylo was in deep working for First Order, working himself to the bone to show he was worthy. He only found out when he and the guys went for drinks at the old cantina he used to work at to celebrate their work on the StarKiller album.

Sergio, Raf’s nephew who was now the manager, let Kylo drink on the house after telling him the news. As much as the other guys tried to lift his spirits, he wallowed miserably in tequila and whiskey. Truly in mourning of his first true friend and mentor. The only one who knew the whole story at the time was Vic so he lifted a glass, toasting the man. Speaking the words Kylo held in his heart but couldn't put into words.

The memories fade as the weight of arms wrapped around his shoulders along with a pair of soft lips kissed his cheek. "Ky, baby what's wrong?" your soft voice says, full of concern. He shakes his head, finally feeling the wetness on his cheeks. "Just memories baby girl, don't worry about it" he says, turning in your arms and tucking his head in your shoulder. He feels your nails scratch at his scalp in an attempt to calm him. He knows you know the story. He told you everything. He takes a shuddering breath, attempting to compose himself.

"Kylo, I am so sorry man. I know how much that song means to you. We thought we would’ve been done by the time you got here…" Vic says coming up to them, his blue eyes full of emotion. Kylo looks up at him, giving him a warm smile through teary eyes. He knows Vic is telling the truth. He should’ve been more prepared than he was. It was known he was playing that song today, with it being one of the most requested songs on their social media poll. But like always, it hit him right in the heart and sucked him in.

"I know Vic" he says releasing you, wiping one of his red rimmed eyes with his hand. "It's on me, not you. But I can definitely say your performance was moving." Vic gives him a sad smile, finally taking a seat on the couch as you stand by his side. "How about we break for lunch and then you can do yours Ky. I can have Rae move up our order" you say, clicking a couple keys on the sound board.

His mind still swims with visions of the past: of Raf's happy tear filled eyes when he performed for the first time, of his gruff laugh and affinity for odd but comforting snacks, the last hug they shared at the bus depot. He looks over at his guitar sitting in its case next to Vincent on the couch. Obviously more worn but still the same. His only memento of the man who changed his life for the better.

"No, no I have to do this" he says, kissing the top of your head and turning to grab the guitar case. He sees you nod as you take a seat at the soundboard, your hands fidgeting with your headphones. "You want me to record it for you?” Vic asks, shaking his phone in his hand. Kylo nods as he heads into the studio. He hears Vic and Vincent follow him in. He looks over to see you blow him a kiss through the glass. He catches it and puts it on his chest with a soft smile.

He scans the studio room, deciding to sit on a tall metal stool that was discarded in the corner. He grabs it and moves it to the front of Vincent, setting himself atop it. He feels he’s right back in that dim music shop, learning his chords alongside Raf. He tunes his guitar, almost able to feel his spirit with him.

His fingers stop, his mind offering a silent thank you. He looks up and nods to you. He sees Vic and Vincent start recording as the record light goes on. "Hey all this is Kylo from the Knights of Ren, thanks for joining us for our newest segment of Classic Covers. I would like to thank each and every single one of you for your continued support of the band and we hope you like and subscribe to the channels below." He has to tell himself not to roll his eyes when Vic cracks a wry smile at him for once following the approved script.

"This next one is really special to me for a lot of reasons and I would like to dedicate it to Rafael Hernandez Corellia and his family. He meant more to me than I could ever express in words. So in memory of him, this is Fell on Black Days by Soundgarden." His calloused fingers hit the strings, starting into a song that lives in a part of his heart. His version is gritty and passionate, so much like Raf. He feels tears prick his eyes as reaches the end, barely noticing the growing group of people in the ajoining room. All amazed at the outpouring of emotion from him.

He strums the final notes, giving the camera a tearful smile and wave. Vic stops recording and immediately rushs over to give him a hug. He grunts as Vic’s body hits him, pushing the guitar into his gut. He ignores the discomfort and wraps an arm around him, holding his friend close.

A series of applause and cheers come through the speakers when they release. He looks up to see over half the staff and a couple other artists all giving him a standing ovation. You are standing in the middle with tears streaming down your face.

His eyes hold yours and can feel your love emanating from them. He can barely hear you whisper I love you over the crowd but it’s there. He lets the tears finally flow. He has honored Raf in the best way he knew how. He has you and his band mates and his friends. He has D'Kar. He has honestly and truly made his dreams come true.

soooo...yeah that happened. How ya all doing?! Lemme know what you think here or on A03 ❤️

You can find the whole collection here including the original story:

[melis-writes]

one of vic’s ribs gets cracked during her pregnancy so michael dotes on her 🥺🥺

Omg all the Michael and Victoria fluff, love, and Michael taking care of her while she recovers. 🥺😭 I love this!! Michael being so tender, soft and gentle with his wife. 😌❤️

“I’m eager to meet them,” Michael murmured, gently rubbing over your almost nine-month old baby bump. “It won’t be long now.”

Blushing, you smiled down at your baby bump and placed your hands over top of Michael’s. “We’ll get to see this little one in just a week from now. Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?”

“Mm,” Michael’s eyes met yours. “I have a feeling it’s another boy.”

“Verona wants a baby sister so badly,” you chuckled quietly. “I can’t blame her.”

“Neither can I,” Michael kissed your cheek softly, lacing both of his hands with yours. “I’m no different. If it’s a girl, what would you like to name her?”

“I have so many name ideas for a baby girl, but…” You exhaled softly, resting your head against Michael’s shoulder. “I love the name ‘Maria’ so much. It’s stuck with me.”

“Maria,” Michael repeated, nodding. “A beautiful name. I agree.”

“And if it’s a boy, we’ve decided on James, haven’t we?” You smiled up at your husband shyly.

“That’s right, darling,” Michael murmured against your cheek before giving it another kiss. “A week from now and we’ll find out. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

On your fourth planned pregnancy, you and Michael both didn’t anticipated it would be filled with heavy nausea, consistent morning sickness and dizziness based on your pregnancy experience with Vincent a year and a half ago.

While the full term of your pregnancy went well with Vincent and with less fatigue and sickness that you felt pregnant with the twins, giving birth was almost twice as much more painful due to the knife injury in your side Kay caused.

Fully recovered from that with barely a mark to remember it by now almost two years later, you certainly didn’t expect to cut your work and regular duties and hobbies short with your fourth pregnancy now.

Michael has always been cautious, extra protective and caring towards you from the first day of all of your pregnancies all the way up until you’ve recovered from the aftermath of birth, but the two of you never limited your daily activities or intimacy until the six-month mark.

This time around with your fourth pregnancy, you took a break from work and spent most of your day resting and with the children due to the restless and nausea four months in.

Reassured it’s no health complications with you nor the baby by Doctor Katherine and Mama Corleone, the same couldn’t be said for Michael.

Michael wanted you checked up on by the doctor and a specialist in childbirth and pregnancy several times a week. Any pains, discomfort or concerns would be resolved with instantly, even if it was in the middle of the night.

When your pregnancy cravings settled in wanting apple slices smothered in peanut butter or fried pickles, Michael made sure you never waited long just as he made sure you took on no burden of a task or strained yourself in any way.

Grateful and appreciative for your husband’s relentless support and gentle care, you knew unfortunately neither Sandra nor Theresa had the same type of care when they were pregnant from Sonny or Tom.

The timing and your contractions lined up well throughout your last pregnancies spent in the hospital, but your water had broke and time was not on your side when it was time to give birth to your baby.

“AH!” You shrieked out in pain and clutched onto your baby bump as Doctor Katherine and the two nurses Michael hired for your aid surrounded you—quick to carefully lay you down against spare pillows and cushions.

Michael rushed into the living room, panicked and alarmed by the sight of you being consoled at home rather than being immediately brought to the hospital.

“Victoria?! What’s going on here?” Michael narrowed his eyes, storming in. “She’s giving birth—why isn’t she being taken to—”

“There’s no time, Mr. Corleone!” Doctor Katherine frowned, snatching a pair of towels one of the nurses handed her. “The baby is coming, it’s far too late.”

“M-Michael!” You cried and reached your hand out to your husband for support.

Michael had been all but too used to waiting in hospital lobbies for hours as you were in labour; sitting, wondering in anxiety and curiosity, worrying about you and taking the doctor’s words with a grain of salt.

If Michael couldn’t be there with you at your hour of need, especially when you were giving birth to his child, pained and stressed for hours, nothing else would satisfy him. Mere observations weren’t enough for him, but having you give birth at home and in front of Michael was something else altogether.

By your side and accompanied by Mama Corleone, Connie, Sandra and Theresa for all the support and care you could need, Michael held your hand and was with you from the first set of contractions onward.

“It’s alright, darling. Breathe, just breathe,” Michael would whisper in your ear, wiping away your tears and the sweat forming on your forehead. “You can do this, baby. I’m here. I’m with you.”

Although the bleeding was controlled well and the nurses administered some painkillers under Doctor Katherine’s discretion, a home birth was truly not much different from that at the hospital.

Going through agonizing contractions again and again, the pain of pushing your body to the limit as your baby is ready to be born was and is the same anywhere.

The sheer difference lies in the fact that Michael was there to witness you give birth and keep you comfortable and calm like nobody else could.

With each wave of contractions or doctor’s commands, Michael understood all the more that his role as your husband and by your side during birth could only be for love and support no matter how much pain you were going through.

Michael had never witnessed a live birth of any kind before nor did he truly understand the complications and complexities of childbirth but he felt in his core he was witnessing a beautiful, sacred moment; the moment baby James was finally born.

Instead of rejoicing instantly with tears of joy at the birth of your fourth child, all you could do was succumb to the stinging, numbing pain in your ribs the moment James was born.

Michael was the first to realize something was gravely wrong when you screamed out in pain and weakly clutched your side.

One of your ribs had cracked during birth and Doctor Katherine immediately came to tend for it and get you in a comfortable position away from the blood and fluids of birth.

The nurses cut the umbilical cord in front of Michael and wrapped your newborn, crying baby in a towel—wasting no time.

Groaning out in pain and barely able to keep your eyes open, you succumbed to losing consciousness but you did so in your husband’s arms—held and cared for by Michael.

When you awoke, you did so again next to Michael who had waited for you to regain consciousness for two hours—holding your baby son in his arms.

Cleaning up after birth and snuggling up with your baby continuously under care, you felt weakened from your injury and could barely sit up or make any sudden moves which only amplified Michael’s protectiveness over you.

“Oh my God…” You groan softly, writhing against your pillow. “It feels so tender.”

“I know, darling, I know,” Michael gently presses an icepack over your fractured rib, watching for your reactions. “This will ease off some of the pain until the medication begins to take over.”

“How’s the bruising?” You weakly gaze back at Michael. “I can’t even explain to you how sore it feels, baby. Urgh…”

“It’s getting better,” Michael notes, applying a little bit more pressure with the icepack. “You’re recovering, sweetheart, but it’s going to take a lot more time for your rib to heal.”

“Mm…” You nod back at Michael, lacing a hand with his free one. “Rest and lots of rest… Doctor’s orders.”

“Four more weeks,” Michael leans in, planting a soft kiss over your forehead. “I don’t want you to put any sort of stress or strain on your body whatsoever. You’re already recovering from birth.”

“I’m telling you—” You crack a smile, looking up at Michael. “The moment I can move like normal again, I’m gonna run around the entire compound just because I can.”

Michael chuckles quietly, raising your hand up to his lips. “That is your right. I won’t stop you. How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Very sore and tender all over,” you groan softly. “Like the weight of the world is on my side.”

“Here,” Michael carefully adjusts the pillows underneath you for full support, keeping the icepack pressed to your side. “I want you completely comfortable. I’ll be keeping the ice pack here to rest against your side and prevent against swelling.”

“T-thank you, baby.” You breathe out shakily, “all of this back to back has been a ‘surprise’, hasn’t it?”

Michael shakes his head, “the important thing is that you’re relaxed, comfortable and continue to recover. Everything else can wait for all I care.”

You let go of Michael’s hand, lazily caressing the side of his face. “The last thing I want to do is simply be helpless and lay here—”

“You’re not helpless,” Michael kisses your knuckles, rubbing over the back of your hand. “But I am grateful. You gave birth to our fourth child. The amount of stress and strain over your body must be overwhelming. It wasn’t easy for you and I won’t pretend it was. Not now, and certainly not for the past nine months.”

“You’re a good man, Michael.” You whisper back, unable to hold back your smile. “I love you, baby, but I’m the grateful one here. You’re taking all the time out of your day that you can to take care of me.”

“And I will continue to,” Michael insists, “for however long it takes.” Michael kisses over the back of your hand again and again, keeping his eyes on you. “I love you. I want nothing but the best care for you.”

Extra gentle and caring with you, Michael’s refused to sit at the dining table with everyone only to face your empty seat.

Continuing to go on about his day and leave you alone in bed isn’t an option Michael would ever choose to take.

Resting against his back in the warm bath and letting the water gently soothe and wash over the bruise upon your ribcage, you peek back at your husband whose fingers stroke through your hair lathered in shampoo—refusing to do anything else but take care of you.

After all, you are the woman of Michael’s dreams, the love of his life, his best friend, his wife, and the mother to his now four children. Michael knows you deserve the world and nothing less, and he insistent on giving it to you himself.

[alvadee]

i love how like a third of the headlines throughout Vic's career were like "is Buono too much of a nice guy?", "he's heavy but lovable 🥺", "screen meanie is teddy bear ❤️"

like yeah!!! my thoughts exactly!

[minguscunnilingus68]

Info/Directory

Vic ✨ 26 ✨ she/they/Daddy

Bi, TME nonbinary girlthing, white, USA

Finally broke down and made a horny sideblog!

If you know me and stumble across this page no you didn't ❤️

House rules:

21+ & Yes I Card (no ageless blogs pls!)

Don’t get overfamiliar in my asks unless we’re actually familiar and you have my express permission to do so

Not interested in sexting, exchanging sexual asks, or looking for partners—this is just the spank bank, no more no less

Stay cool and remember: boundaries are your friend!

No racism, zionism, gender critical/terf/swerf ideology, or any other shit like that will be tolerated here

Tags & Interests:

sorry daddy I mean daddy I mean— : dom leaning

category 5 princess moment: sub leaning

switchy: I’ll give you one guess

not safe for laughs: funny explicit

bushposting: body hair

gender? I hardly know her: yeah

gif

photo

movies (will also specify/abbreviate title)

❤️: heart warming/sexy positivity/etc

🧛🏻‍♀️: vampire shit (will include blood, biting, bloodplay, being a huge drama queen)

i may be attracted to that old man: well,

kink education: resources, tips, etc

other specifics/triggers/etc as needed

Limits/dislikes:

CG/L regarding ageplay, “mommy,” ABDL, fauxcest, and related play

Watersports, scat, excessive spit

Heavy degradation or humiliation, dehumanization, mind break, weight/body image play, detrans play, intox, somno, hypnosis, petplay

Medical play, needles, piercing/body mod, heavy knifeplay, breathplay

Will be updated as needed

[gruesomejack]

Nick stopped by with a bag of food in one arm and a cat carrier in the other. Despite the deep, terrible ache that lingered in his chest and limbs, having him there made it easier to get through the evening. If he hadn't been there, he wasn't sure what he might've done; his head was swimming, and his heart was heavy-- That was never the start of anything good.

------

"You could stay in your room at the house."

Vi stared at his father with tired eyes. Before he could open his mouth, Nick scoffed. "You know he doesn't want to be there or anywhere near you. This is all your fault." He said, brows furrowed. "You don't get to play concerned father now. I'm taking him home."

The older man shot a hot glare at his son, his own brows twitching. "You're not a part of this. I don't know why you're here in the first place-"

"I'm going with Nick." Vi leaned back against the mattress and tugged the cat beside him up to his chest. "You knew that already. Just... leave me alone."

Vic wanted to argue, but he knew it wasn't worth it. As long as he had Gabe watching him, Deo's worn down apartment would be fine for him to stay in. Taking in a breath, he kept his eyes on Nick for a moment more before looking at Vi. "If that's what you want. Fine." He said and left the two.

------

Vi stared at the floor. Nick had helped him get dressed, but it still hurt too bad to move much, so he was stuck sat on the edge of the bed until he came back with a wheelchair. The doctors were sending him home with a generous prescription and if he was being honest, he couldn't wait to get home to take a few more than he should and try to sleep away the horrible way he felt.

Closing his eyes, he felt the bed vibrate and glanced over at the phone sitting beside him. Reaching, he swiped it open and immediately frowned. "Charlie..."

It took him a long moment to convince himself to reply. It wasn't smart to-- He knew that. If he wanted to keep Charlie as safe as he could, they needed a clean break. Vi stared at the words on the screen and felt himself start to tremble, his eyes growing blurry with tears. This was all he wanted. He wanted to talk to Charlie and tell him how he was doing and see how he was and seek comfort in his arms, but... he couldn't anymore. They'd broken up.

Vi whimpered softly and hitched.

[To: Sunshine] Thank you, Charlie ❤️

It was all he could manage before breaking down.

I'll fix it.

The words had become his personal mantra as he gathered the things he needed to cut himself off from his father. At Nick's place, he'd started to put together all the legal files he needed, and he'd scheduled a meeting with an attorney to talk everything over. Today, he had to empty out his lockbox at the bank to make sure any gifted heirlooms were back in Vic's hands so he couldn't hold anything material over him. It was tedious and tiring, but it would be worth it if it meant he and Charlie would have some peace.

Slipping out of the car, he waited for Charlie to follow along and gave a brief glance at the near empty parking garage. He'd have to treat him to something good after this; he hated the way he was dragging him around and saying very little, but it was for the best. The less Charlie knew the better.

Taking in a breath, he offered his hand out to him and smiled as it was taken, gently lacing their fingers together. "You get to choose lunch today." He told him, his eyes soft on the other man. "I-... I know this is a lot of running around, but you really are doing me a big favor by coming with me." Victory bumped their shoulders together and leaned a little against him, humming quietly. "Having you around makes me feel... calmer."

Vi glanced over and let his smile spread, his cheeks taking on a light blush of pink. "Plus I-..." He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep spoiling Charlie like this. Once he was disowned, it'd be just his savings and the money he got from working at the restaurant. "I-I really just want to make it up to you."

@purposefully-lost

[ashdreams2023]

Hi Ash! I was just wondering, if you have time ofc, maybe if you could write some sort of Vic where the avengers get turned into animals? Whether it’s a trick by Loki or some machine annoy made or whatever is up to you! If not, that’s totally ok! Thanks! Love a lots! (Btw I absolutely adored the baby Loki fic, it mad my heart so happy and warm) ❤️❤️

Animal avengers

"Pepper what’s this?"

"Your teammates"

"You have to be fucking kidding me…"

You stared at the caged animals in front of you.

Seven in total since bucky joined the mission.

You had a pretty good idea who could have done this, especially since he’s nowhere in sight since early morning.

"Ok god, what happened to you" you pet the head of the golden retriever, whom you assume is Steve with those unusual blue eyes.

There was three dogs in total, one golden retriever, one Saint Bernard which you guess is Thor, and the last one is a german shepherd….Tony.

Natasha and Bucky were black cats, clint was a hawk…how fitting.

Bruce was a panda bear? That wasn’t something you expected.

You took the three puppies or more like big grown dogs out and the first thing thor did was jump on you with all his weight licking your face, the scream you let out was painful.

"You’re too heavy!" That’s the issue with big dogs they think their small compared to humans.

Steve was barking at him, as if he’s telling him to get off of you and that actually worked.

Tony was thankfully the calm one, just pushing his nose against your cheek towards the kitchen.

Of course he’s hungry.

To think about it, what were you supposed to feed a big animal like Bruce!?

You immediately texted happy for help and after like an hour of trying to keep everyone calm and locking all the windows so clint wouldn’t fly away, a delivery arrived at the compound.

Happy was a great help making sure animal food for all of them came within such a short period of time.

"Ok guys, dig in" you hoped tony wouldn’t mind using his expensive plates set from China.

Bruce was the only one eating with his big bear hands and he just look so peaceful.

You wished the others would act the same but no here was Natasha hissing at bucky for being too close to her food, and Thor trying to steal from Steve and tony.

Clint was getting blood drops on the clean floors since it was fresh meat.

Goodness you wanted to kill Loki right then and there.

After that very messy and stressful lunch you locked the hallway door and stayed on the couch with Steve and Thor playing around with some toy that was thrown in with the food sent and tony watching from afar, probably afraid to be crushed by accident.

Bruce was now asleep, Natasha and Bucky still didn’t get along but Bucky settled on laying on your lap while she get her distance sitting on the counter.

Clint flew from one side to the other, you were secretly thankful that none of the others turned into a hopeless pre for him to hunt.

It around 5pm when tony started barking loudly at the front door, you held bucky in your arms while standing up.

The door opened and the mischievous scamp behind all this mess stood there with a huge grin on his face.

"Why hello l-"

"Thor on him!" Loki screamed as his brother jumped on him licking his face over and over again.

"Stop that! You filthy thing!"

"That thing is your brother! Turn everyone back before I make Bruce sit on you"

"Fine!"

And that’s how you ended up with bucky’s dead weight on top of you and Clint breaking an arm because he was flying mid air.

Oh and apparently eating so much sugarcanes can give you a terrible stomachache.

"I need the bathroom…"

Loki heard an ear full after everyone was taken care of.

[vicsdeangelis]

Oh bit of a ramble here. But I just really love how we get little glimpses of their relationships with each other. Like the latest gif, I love the way Ethan just casually slides his arm down/behind Damiano and just sort of tucks himself into him. How it's just so simple and normal for them. I don't know, it just shows how they can be half naked rockstars, they can tease and mock each but they can also just be really sweet with each other. I don't know if it make sense but it makes me grateful they have each other?

idk if this is about the whole band (which i also share the sentiment that i'm so happy they all have each other), or if this is about d & e in particular, but i'm gonna talk about those two for a second because i love their friendship so much!

two of my favorite ethan & damiano moments are when they won sanremo and while vic's first instinct was to jump on thomas (i fratellini ❤️), damiano and ethan turned to each other and hugged, like, holding each other through the emotions, (also, i just remembered, how right before they announced the winner damiano looked over at ethan and like, shook him a little bit, maybe like a "we got this"), AND when they won eurovision and damiano was on the floor and ethan extended his hand to help him up but damiano pulled him down and they hugged on the floor, with damiano wrapping one of his legs around him and ethan holding damiano's face. they're fucking adorable

tbh every interaction between them makes me go "AAAAAA I LOVE THEMMMMM". there's just something about damiano and ethan's bond that draws me in so much. and like, sometimes it feels like as the years passed, damiano like, came to trust ethan so much. imo they are really alike, especially when it comes to maturity, and i feel like damiano appreciates that in ethan, especially because we know he used to feel so much pressure, such a heavy weight on him, maybe for being the oldest or being the "leader", and i feel like he learned how to share that, that burden and stuff, and i feel like ethan was a big part of that. you definitely get a glimpse of the difference in their relationship during the this is måneskin doc and the il ballo della vita vlogs vs now, and how much closer they are now. this is just my opinion, of course, but aaaaaaaaaaa i just love them i want to hug them and give them fluffy blankets and tea and forehead kisses sorry excuse me i need a moment 😭

but then again, whenever i think about any of their relationships i feel the exact same feeling of "MY CUTIES" lmao

[tutyayilmazz]

måneskin tag game 🖤

tagged by @definitelynotdamiano i definitely wasn't expecting this, thank you! i'm not exactly an active fandom member and 99% of my followers won't care for this but i will take every opportunity to talk about må sooo

1. When was the first time you saw them?

the thing is, my italian mutuals were watching sanremo and i vaguely remember hearing the song and seeing damiano on fedez's insta but i think it was a very hectic time for me bc why else wouldn't i have truly registered their genius until eurovision?!

but as eurovision was nearing i watch the zitti e buoni video (and also perhaps wiwi jam at home?) and gave every vote i had to them and literally ran down the streets screaming with a friend when they won and here we are now :')

2. Chosen, Il ballo della vita or Teatro d'ira Vol.1?

TEATRO D'IRA VOL. 1 ABSOLUTELY NO COMPETITION. i adore the rock sound they grew into. i love that it's a succinct album of high quality songs with their skills they've honed since the previous album

3. Which song would you erase? (I know it’s Beggin’ but it doesn’t count here)

i don't understand how anyone wouldn't say immortale or are you ready lmao

4. What song would you like them to cover?

I'm most desperate for liar by queen i think. the incredible bass solo (imagine vic doing that!!!), the guitar, ethan starting with the cowbell, the "mama I'm gonna be your slave" lyrics which are begging to be sung by damiano... yep

5. What song hypes you up no matter what?

zitti e buoni entered our lives for this specific reason i think. but also l'altra dimensione always has me on my feet ready to dance

6. Fave performance?

oooh well, sanremo amandoti is impeccable, it goes from crooning to hard and heavy so well 😍 if the question is about concerts, ronquieres festival was so fucking wild, i wouldn't loved to be there

7. This or that:

le parole lontane or torna a casa | coraline or vent'anni | chosen or recovery | iwbys or mammamia | lividi sui gomiti or in nome del padre | l'altra dimensione or vengo dalla luna | lasciami stare or morirò da re | la paura del buio or for your love | are you ready? or sh*t blvd

(yes i cheated and chose neither of iwbys or mammamia to choose both lividi sui gomiti and in nome del padre)

8. No pressure tags:

i don't follow lots and lots of måneskin blogs and those i do have almost all done it except @maneskinbrainrot @teatrodellavita @ventvnni @till-you-scream-and-cry and @morirodare? and i should tage my musical taste buddy @il-ballo-della-vita but if there are others among my followers who listen to måneskin consider yourself tagged ❤️

[ask-the-red-fem-mercs]

Welcome to R.E.D. base #007!

We’re glad to have you here. Send us a message if you want, or just watch our responses.

Notes:

these are my own original characters, not just genderbent versions of the male mercs. Also, a lot of these characters are based off of or inspired by the art of Makani, one of the TF2 comics illustrators.

I struggle writing accents and broken English, this is just one person running this blog! Notes to the mod are greatly appreciated.

I haven’t finished the character bios yet. So if you want, you can suggest things (names, relatives, fav songs) and I’ll credit you in the character bio.

I am an amateur character designer and trying to draw more older people, but I am struggling. I’m also bad at deciding ages for characters. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome.

I do not have a PC, so I can't play TF2, meaning some info may be inaccurate. Feel free to let me know if I mess up game info!

Rules:

NO NSFW or you will be BANNED. This includes suggestive asks (shipping or asking the characters to kiss doesn’t count as NSFW)

No weird/illegal shit.

I already have a sort of story set up for them, so their relationships are already pretty clear (kinda) in my mind, so while I do appreciate shipping asks please keep in mind it might not always be what you wanted.

My main is @ilovegayvampires

My side acc for them is @vics-fem-fortress

Find more info about them on my Unvale

Some asks will be drawn!

Mod response is colored green. Characters listed under the cut.

Scout ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ scout

Soldier ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ soldier

Pyro ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ pyro

Demo ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ demo

Engineer ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ engineer

Heavy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ heavy

Medic ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ medic

Sniper ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ sniper

Spy ~ Unvale ~ Tag: #[vic’s] ❤️ spy

[ask-the-red-fem-mercs]

Can I have someone’s hand in marriage? I’m rly good at talking.

[ask-the-red-fem-mercs]

Heavyyyy!!! My girl!! Long time no see since we last met, which was totally a thing that happened!

How’s the family? Oh my goodness, I remember these guns! What were their names again?

-🧿

Sowwy I didn’t draw her buff enough in the last two panels I’m espy 💔