#'but there's no time for that the reapers are coming' there was enough time for a whole ass party
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pathologicalreid · 2 days ago
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falling flat | s.r.
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in which you call Spencer for help with a flat tire, and he comes to help with you car troubles - and then some
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to the reaper, car trouble, blood, tetanus vaccine, kindergarten teacher!reader, flirting, protective!spencer, takes place following 5x22 "the internet is forever", hastily edited word count: 1.87k a/n: rahhhh an old prompt from may 2024 that ended up working for a margovember request rahhh.
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The absolute last place you wanted to be was on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere Virginia, with a flat tire. You weren’t entirely helpless until your tire jack broke, sending metal flying everywhere and cutting your hand open.
You slumped down next to your car, pulling your phone from your pocket before calling the first people you could think of. Every single one of them ended up going to voicemail. Some of them didn’t even let it get past the first ring before declining your call—traitors.
With your thumb hovering over the call button, you thought of Spencer. He had a PhD in engineering, but you weren’t entirely sure that would come in handy in this instance. It was late, almost midnight, and you weren’t even sure he’d answer.
At this point, what choice did you have?
As the phone rang, part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer. When he asked you about it the next time you saw him, you’d wave it off as a butt dial and he’d be none the wiser.
“Hello,” he said through the phone, leaving your plans quashed.
This was awkward, you had been on four dates with the guy over the span of two months, and now you were calling him in the middle of the night. “This isn’t a booty call,” You blurted, cringing inwardly and banging your head back on the passenger door of your car.
Spencer laughed lightly, “I didn’t think it was, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked, his job had a lot of long hours, and you didn’t want to bother him if he was catching up on sleep. If he was even home, “Wait, where are you?”
There was a rustling on his end of the call, “No, I wasn’t asleep, I’m at work. We just got off of a case.”
You let out a sigh of relief, at least you weren’t being a total nuisance. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just… my tire blew out on the highway and my jack broke and no one else is answering their phone,” you told him, verging on rambling.
“You’re kind of cutting out, where are you?” He asked, he sounded concerned, and if there was a moment where you weren’t sure you still had feelings for him, it was fleeting.
Looking to either side of you for a mile marker, you stood up, looking at the ground so you didn’t step on any metal, “I don’t really know. There aren’t any signs, I’m somewhere on 28, I think?”
Spencer cleared his throat, “Do you have your location on your phone?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I have enough service to check it,” you said, all you could see were trees.
You could hear him talking to someone, holding the receiver away from his mouth, “That’s fine, I’ll have someone look, just stay on the phone.”
It would seem that dating someone in the FBI does have its perks, “Oh, cool.” You overheard Spencer explaining your situation to someone, hearing the other person in the room say something about Reid’s girlfriend and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you were very unofficially official.
“Hey, I’ll be there in half an hour,” An elevator dinged in the background. “Is that alright?”
You hummed, leaning your hip against the front of your car. “I mean, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
Another ding of the elevator, “Will you do me a favor?”
In exchange for this? You’d do just about anything within the realm of legality, “Name it.”
“Get in your car and lock the doors,” he responded. “Turn your hazards on because right now you’re a sitting duck. If someone doesn’t see your car, they could hit you.”
As a favor, he was asking you to make sure you’re safe, “Okay, I’m getting in now, should I leave the car running?”
You heard the sound of a car lock disengaging through the phone, “As long as the cooling system on your car is in good shape, it shouldn’t be a problem to leave it running while you wait. Just remember what I told you about the hazards.”
Nodding despite the fact that he can’t see you, you got in the car, turning the key in the ignition before pushing the button for your hazard lights, “Okay, I’m in the car.”
“I can’t drive and be on the phone at the same time, but I’ll be there soon. Don’t unlock the doors for anyone except for me,” he told you, and you thanked him for his help before hanging up and settling yourself in your driver’s seat.
You pulled the hoodie you kept stashed in your car over your head, your school mascot—a panther—proudly displayed in the front, and made sure your car doors were locked. If you said you weren’t a little unnerved, you’d be lying to yourself.
Spencer had a worrisome job; it was something you were aware of before he ever asked you on that first date. It became alarmingly obvious to you when he revealed that he’d been shot a few months prior, which was an appropriate second-date conversation with an FBI agent. It made sense to you that he’d be concerned about you, in your idle car, on the side of the road, but you wondered if there was a case that he was thinking of. Someone with a flat tire who had met an untimely demise.
Shuddering, you turned up the heat in your car, flipping through radio stations until someone knocked on your window. You jumped at the noise, hitting your head against the roof of the car before looking outside to see Spencer. Sighing in relief, you unlocked your car door, and he opened it for you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is your head alright?”
You peered up at him, casually leaning over your car door. “You cut your hair,” you observed. You’d seen him just last week, where his hair still touched his shoulders, and now it was considerably shorter.
Self-consciously, he reached up a hand and thumbed one of the tendrils, “Yeah, it just got too long—and heavy.”
Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair, your head bobbed, “I like it. Did you do it yourself?”
“You can tell?” He asked, following you around the back of your car to your busted tire. Spencer sets his tire jack down before looking back at you, putting his hands on his hips.
Grinning at him, you shrugged, “I teach kindergarten, I’m basically a professional at noticing DIY haircuts.”
On a towel that you had previously set out, the two of you sat along the side of your car, and you tried to ignore the fact that Spencer still had his weapon holstered. It made sense, he’d come straight from work, but you wondered if there was a reason he didn’t leave it in his car. “Where’s your lug wrench?”
“I can change it myself,” you insisted, “I just needed a different car jack.” You gestured to the pieces of yours that were now all over the side of the road.
Alarm flashed on Spencer’s face, “Nothing fell on you, right?”
You shook your head, “No, just a cut from the metal.”
Holding out your hand, you let Spencer take a look at the cut on your palm. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
Blinking rapidly, you frowned at him, “Uh, when I was in college?”
“That might need stitches,” he responded, letting you take your hand back. “I’ll change your tire, I don’t want you using that hand for anything,” he informed you, pushing the hydraulic jack beneath your car.
Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you watched him take your old tire off, muttering under his breath about how your old jack was practically an artifact, seeing how it literally fell apart under pressure. “How was your case?” You asked softly, fully aware that you were likely opening a can of worms by asking about work.
Spencer’s movements faltered slightly at your question, “It’s closed. We were in Boise,” he answered tactfully, leaving out any case details and cluing you into the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing out here?”
You sighed, leaning back on your hands and watching him work, “I had a meeting with the other schools in our conference. It’s annual, and this year they happened to pick the school furthest away from mine.”
“Well, I suppose it worked out well that your tire blew out so close to me, then,” Spencer said, swapping out the busted tire for the donut and looking over at you. There was something nervous in his eyes, and you didn’t know if it was related to work or you.
Humming, you tried to watch the tire rather than just watching him, “Is there something bothering you?”
He was tightening the lug nuts on the spare tire, “Are you driving home after this?”
You furrowed your brows, “Yeah, where else could I be going?”
“It’s almost a two-hour drive to your place from here,” he reminded you, his tone laced with concern. “You won’t get home until almost one in the morning,” the displeasure in his voice was plain, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. “Plus, you really shouldn’t travel that far on a spare tire, they’re not made to travel far distances.”
Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you let your shoulders slump forward, “So, what do you suggest I do? Get a hotel?”
Spencer mumbled something inaudibly, trying to finish tightening the bolts on the tire before sighing, “You can stay with me,” he blushes, a swipe of pink across his cheeks.
Your lips parted in surprise, “Uh, I don’t… I’m not…” you faltered. Utterly failing to come up with a good enough reason to tell him no, “I don’t want you to feel inclined. This isn’t what I was looking for when I called you for help.”
He let the car down, staying quiet while the two of you cleaned up, and Spencer swatted your hand away when you tried to pick things up. “So, you can come back to my place tonight. My work-issued first-aid kit has your name all over it,” he told you, eyes flickering down to the cut on your hand.
“Okay,” you breathed, unable to conjure a reason to refuse his hospitality.
He was grinning at you, hair just barely brushing his eyebrows, “So tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee and drop your car off to get a new tire?”
You smiled back at him, “That sounds great, date number five.”
“You know where you’re going, right?”
“Yeah,” you’d been to his place once to pick him up, “Hey, Spence?”
He turned around, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He looked ready to respond to you, but you pressed your lips to his before he had a chance to speak.
You kissed him softly, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you for coming.”
He chuckled lightly, gently resting a hand on your waist, “Thank you for calling.” 
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actuallybridgetjones · 10 hours ago
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so long (worst!wolverine x reader)
warnings: +18 minors do not interact, smut, fluff, female!reader, worst!wolverine, change of events, after d&w.
a/n: hi! since d&w got on disney+ i just had to rewatch it and had this idea. please note that this is my first fic ever and that english isn’t my first language. also, i can’t write wade accurately so here is my messy attempt. sorry in advance for any mistake (or if this seems to messy) and feedback is much appreciated. love, carol ♡
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you and logan had a life together, both teacher at charle's institute. your relationship with him blossomed through late sleepless nights in the kitchen, when you listened to the older man, appreciating the little he shared with you everyday.
it was evident that you two grew close as each day passed. after lingering touches and stares, stollen kisses in empty classrooms, you eventually got together and boy, were you happy.
you had it all, you knew each other like the palm of your hand. you were logan's harbor and he was your safe haven. you saw how he would get when the nightmares were too much, feeling the urge to drink his worries away. you saw his flaws and his sins and still you stood by.
that's what made logan wonder at first. it made him wonder how a girl sweet and kind like you wasn't terrified by the thought of him. he would often even wonder what kind of good thing he did to have you only listening to him in the first place.
so, when that tragic night came, logan got reminded of how he didn't deserve any good, how everything of his always had a way to be taken, ruined. he was coming home from the bar, a solo mission went wrong, he decided to stop to drink it away before collapsing in your arms. he knew you would be home, you were always home.
until you weren't.
he got to the mansion to find it filled with dead bodies, jean, scott, storm, hank... everyone, it was a blood bath. logan's first thought was you. running into your shared bedroom, he searched, spent days looking through the damn corpses but there were no traces of you, nothing for him to mourn over.
logan turned to alcohol and self hatred, his healing abilities now appearing as a curse, as if nothing was hard enough to numb him from the pain of it all.
the day wade (or whatever was his name) came in saying that he would take him out of there, logan didn’t even flinch. if he didn’t have you, there was nothing holding him back to his timeline.
here he was now, storming in to help deadpool, the guy who gave him a second chance, stoping cassandra with the time reaper. his mind was filled with memory of the journey he had gone through, but not only.
through his head flew images of you. your smile, your eyes, your small almost unnoticeable freckles, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed and the way your cheeks always seemed to turn a warm pink shade around him. images of you underneath and on top of him, holding him or sleeping tightly in his embrace. memories of slow mornings tangled on each other and late nights spent panting.
after all was safe and sound, after wade’s world was no longer endangered, logan gave himself a second chance too. he let himself be friends with wade, agreeing to live with him until he figured something out. he always did.
wade, cheery as ever, took logan to his building, wanting him to meet blind al, the so infamous roommate. after climbing up the stairs logan feels a perfume he hadn’t felt in years. he turned to see you shuffling through your keys, trying to enter the apartment. you didn’t even have to turn his way.
it was you.
logan stood frozen, trying to figure out if this was another one of life’s tricks to him.
“peanunt, that’s y/n, she’s a sweet girl, but you’re literally drooling you nasty dog” wade says, and that’s when you turn to the two men, hearing your name coming from the mouth of your chatty neighbor.
the sight in front of you made your heart stop. was it your logan? could it be? or was it just another nightmare about the love of your life, just for you to wake to an empty cold bed?
your brows furrow as you look at him. he was older, thinner even despite his still very defined muscles. you were sure this was your logan from the way he looked at you, his hazel eyes seeming worn over but with the same love inside of them.
“lo-logan?”
“y/n?”
your breath hitched on your throat as tears fall down your face. you run to logan, wrapping your arms tightly around him. if this was a dream, you wanted to hug him for one last time, to atleast try to feel his embrace, his touch.
logan hugged you back, bringing your smaller body to his chest as he crouched to whisper, crying too. “is this really you? y/n, oh god”
you pull your head back to look into his eyes, meeting his hazel orbs.
it was your logan.
“i-i can’t believe…” your voice comes out shaky, small even as you look at the man. dirty, rugged and with stains of blood everywhere, but he was your man.
“oh darling… god darling girl” his voice is small too, contrasting with his own appearance. you wrap your arms securely around his neck once again, crying in pure bliss as his large arms came to wrap around your waist.
“i missed you so much” you say between sobs against his neck. “how-how did you get here?” he asks, finally finding all of his worries dissipating in your embrace.
“on the night of the attack… a portal opened and I came here, I had no idea how to go back, how to go back to you lo-” you say almost out of breath, feeling his hand now softly combing through your hair.
logan pulls back to look at you in the eyes, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he whispered “beautiful” and brings his lips to yours.
there’s no point in denying the hurry of the kiss, the desperation and the longing cursing through your veins. of course there’s always someone to wreck the party.
“peanut? honey? am i missing something or are we starting to make out with greasy strangers in the hallways now?” deadpool’s voice interrupts.
logan grunts and turns back to him, giving him a glare. “she was, is, the one i told you about” the wolverine says surprinsingly soft.
you smile and add shyly “he’s the one i told you about”, logan looks at you tenderly, a reminder of the love still in him. the love that he had burried deep down after that night.
“honey? you had no will to tell me that THE MAN YOU WERE FUCKING NASTY BACK IN YOUR TIMELINE WAS THE WOLVERINE?” wade adds excitedly.
you and logan both roll your eyes, you blush and turn to your neighbor. “i don’t know if he was going up to meet blind al, but i’m going to keep him for the night”
“don’t make too much noise”
before you pull your long lost lover inside with you into your apartment he turns back. “hey, wade… thank you”.
after that he was on you, door closed as he pinned you against it, arms wrapping around you, your own traveling down the hoodie he was wearing. your lips meet in a searing kiss, his tongue not taking much time in entering your mouth, joining your own in a slow and long known dance.
this was home.
“my bedroom his down the hall” you say between kisses and logan pulls you to wrap your legs around his torso, bringing you to your own bedroom. once you’re there he lays you against the bed gently, taking off his hoodie and moving to remove the tank top you were wearing, nothing underneath.
“what a fucking sight” he whispers, the rough tone contrasting with the love his gaze held, his eyes turning a deep shade of forest greeen now. reaching down, he kisses your neck, bitting and nibbling on the tender skin under his mouth.
"i- i need you logan" you say gravely, voice filled with need and passion. you remove your jeans and panties, laying bare under him now. "what a sight, princess" he hums against your hear, letting out a soft groan as he feels your desperate hands fumbling with his pants.
not longer after that, logan was moving inside you, his movements desperate as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his back. his hands travel sloppily down your body, massaging the soft skin.
"i love you logan, i love you" you manage to say between moans, head thrown back in pleasure as you feel your high approaching. his hips grew more erratic, your words making his need grow "you'll be the death of me darlin' " he says between pants.
you feel the familiar stretch of his large cock on you, the familiar pleasure his calloused hands bring you. but you also see the depth of his eyes. the love and longing they carry. he shifts, now kneeling as his hands grasp at your hips, tight enough to bruise.
from the new angle it all feels too much and you can't even begin to process it until it's happening. "oh logan..." you almost scream in pure bliss, your whole body convulsing as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your juices spilling all over him.
the sight is too much for logan as he cums inside of you, the feel of his warm seed filling you up, making you squirm. he collapses on top of you, his hands anchoring his body as he looks you in the eye, still inside of you. "i love you so much princess"
you can only smile, new tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you looked at the man that was, is, everything to you. in that moment you know it'll be alright, and he knows, feels it too.
as long as you've got each other, it'll be alright.
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londondungeon2 · 11 hours ago
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concept with floyd leech. (expansion from the mafia universe, pre-NARC)
shit hits the fan frequently in floyd's life.
that is how it has always been. an accumulation of monkey doo-doo that is thrown into the fan blades that lead to things like cars exploding into fiery wrecks, new hues of purple bruises and red cuts on his skin, and tender cheek kisses from the grim reaper. he likes it like this. every day, he gets a little taste of death.
this time, he has taken too big of a bite.
he realizes it on the cusp of weaving in and out of death and life's doors. the epiphany settles in when the cut along the left side of his face is deep enough he can stick his tongue out of it. and, the truth of it is thrown in his face when his captors leave him -- floyd fucking leech -- in his four-walled prison with a gun, not to break himself out but rather 'if you truly won't tell us the information, here's this. we'll allow you the mercy of getting to kill yourself.'
they might as well just take out their cocks and piss on him. this is humiliating. this is beneath him. this is ... going to be the end of the line.
cheek on the grimy ground, he reflects upon that. at least every day, tasting the faint lipstick of the grim reaper under his teeth, he lived how he wanted to, did it his way as good old frank sinatra said.
floyd is humming to himself that jazz tune as he watches pinwheels of colors swirl in his vision and little fireworks of black pop in the skies of a blackout creeping up on him.
jade's gonna be pissed. azul's gonna bitch and bargain. mama's gonna cry. pop's gonna deny. you're gonna ...
you're probably gonna be fine. you and floyd don't know each other that well. you've only known each other for two months. most of that time has been spent going at it like rabbits. the pillow-talk is zilch. not really a relationship of substance where you would have any reason to grieve him.
if anything you're just gonna be sad that you're not getting your world rocked in bed ... floyd huffs a humorless laugh at that. at least the sex was great, mind-blowing chemistry from that first night and he has yet to grown bored.
floyd closes his eyes, cheek leaking an oil puddle of red, trying to conjure up a memory from over these previous two months. if he is going to finally bite the dust, he wants his thoughts to be filled with nothing but the euphoric memory of an orgasm as he bounces you on his cock. a good memory to blanket his dying mind with.
that is not what comes to floyd's mind. instead, he is remembering you sitting criss-cross in your panties, feeding your bunny oswald. floyd stands by your kitchen island, digging earwax out with his shower towel, dripping on your vinyl floor. he watches in the small visible space, bordered by your thigh and elbow, as oswald nibbles up piece after piece of kale. you don't talk to him, expecting him to leave soon.
dying on a warehouse's filthy floor, floyd watches you, entranced in his brain with this continuous motion of you handing piece after piece of kale to oswald. in his mind, the bowl never empties or loses its weight of fullness.
your back is pretty, your hair after sex is nice, your panties are a cute color, you're a real good person who deserves a boyfriend.
i kinda wanna know more about them ... the thought causes his eyes to pop open. all that he sees is a lime-green that bounces in watery waves. it surprises floyd greatly, that sudden thought that he's never had before.
he falls into the thought softly ... i wonder if they have hobbies ... when did they get a bunny ... i wonder i wonder i wonder ... he is still wondering when he puts a new piercing into his captor's chest. he wonders all the way home, wonders what’s your favorite food, do you hate a certain type of entertainment genre, are you a silver or gold jewerly-wearer? he wonders more and more questions — favorite sport; pet-peeves; any special talent like being double-jointed or tying knots in cherry stems, any stupid small things about you he yearns to learn — while azul's doctor (paid with generous hush money) stitches the hole in his face back up.
he holds all his questions until after a week later, after he has given you your second orgasm and him his first orgasm. he is pulling out, flopping on the right side of the mattress, closest to the exit like always.
you are not unnerved by this, panting and soaking in the moment, you barely even look at him.
you jump out of your skin when you feel a finger tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "what are you doing," you gasp, partly from exhaustion and partly from bewilderment.
"hey, shrimpy," your booty call starts slowly and sweetly, "ya got any hobbies?"
it is such a surprising question that you laugh ... until you realize, unnerved, that he is being serious. he is looking at you with round, puppy-dog eyes, waiting to soak in all the information you are going to give him.
you shouldn't tell him anything. information is valuable, you know that. but, there is something in his handsome face that makes you take the leap.
you can't help but be a little loose tongued as you shift onto your side, bare chest squishing on the mattress, a heartbeat pulse between your legs, and both hands sandwiched under your cheek.
"yeah, i do. i like to --"
and that's how it starts.
sometimes, you think you should have kept your mouth shut.
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mossy123302 · 1 day ago
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augh... Time in a Bottle playing .. send help...
Does like... squidcraft semi imply how... Philza has been waiting for months to reunite with Missa, constantly searching for the moon that's so close yet so far from his grasp.
For the first time, Philza isn't trying to chase after the sun. He's chasing after the Moon, the stars... To find his boyfriend platonic husband.
Every different version of Philza yearning for the moon, and never understood why until they meet their own Missa. You ever think Philza yearns to go back, to try again and actually make sure... Missa stays and understand how much he loves him, that he'd follow him til the end of the Earth, because he'd reunite with him death. The Angel of Death and The Gentle Grim Reaper, forever connected in Death.
"If I could save time in a bottle..."
"The first thing that I'd like to do"
"Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away"
"Just to spend them with you"
"If I could make days last forever"
"If words could make wishes come true"
"I'd save every day like a treasure, and then"
"Again, I would spend them with you"
"I've looked around enough to know"
"That you're the one I want to go through time with"
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mourn-and-watch · 1 year ago
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i wish me3 had loyalty missions it would be so sooo good. assisting some shadow broker agents with liara. joining kaidan/ashley on one of their first spectre assignments to reassure them. helping garrus to evacuate his family from palaven. sticking around with tali on rannoch to make sure quarians and the geth are doing fine. handing a serious job to james and guiding him through it as a part of his n7 training. going on a task with edi to help her adjust to working with other people as a person and not as a vi. visiting javik's squad's resting place with him. doing little favors for your friends in the middle of a war because life itself hasn't ended yet and you want to make it a little easier for them while you have some time left
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kaidanalenkosprmanager · 6 days ago
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Sophie Shepard & Kaidan Alenko (ME3) 1/?
MIRA'S MORE CANON ME3 "You're real enough for me." AKA: The tango. :) Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)
#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard#kaidan alenko#shenko#mass effect#mass effect 3#mass effect legendary edition#me3#dailygaming#otp: you're real enough for me#morecanonmasseffect#GUESS WHO FINALLY WEIGHT PAINTED SOPH'S HEAD FOR LE3 :)#you remember when my annoying ass said i wasn't touching her tattoos again? :) i lied :) i touched her tattoos again :)#we had to start off strong with the most quality LE3 mesh swap you can do: putting her and kaidan in the tango together#did i UV remap kaidan's outfit to give him his canon tattoos? you're goddamn right. and he's wearing his bracelet soph gave him too :)#technically soph's bracelet from dom that she gives to him :) but technicalities#and i finally fixed up all of soph's body tattoos for FINAL this time :) the fun one that's my favorite is the lil snake on her left wrist#she got it for zaeed but she will never admit it to his face :)#and all her body scars i worked on too! that was something else i had fun with on her back and her arms and parts of her chest#some of the chest ones are harder to see in this outfit but they're all from mindoir akuze and the reaper war :)#there's a lot of little things in here i had a lot of fun with from canon but the bracelet and the tattoos are probably my favorite things#they are indeed also wearing matching outfits (it was her idea. they also wear matching armor on the battlefield)#fun tidbit fact: in canon she drops shepard after TRW and goes by oliveira-alenko :) thanks for coming to my canon TEDtalk#i think this is my favorite set i've ever made for obvious reasons but this is probably as close to canon as i've ever gotten with gifs#they both just occupy a lot of space in my brain#happy n7 day friend! <3 have a good rest of your day! <3
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foxcassius · 1 month ago
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the day i get paid always breaks my brain a lil bc i just have to send all my money awayyyy and be normal about it
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nightingaletrash · 1 year ago
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me: Sharp is his own unique character and is very distinct from Garrus. They share a VA and a few overlapping traits, but they’re not the same person- Sharp: *says something that Garrus has absolutely said* me: ... me: okay now I want fanart of them talking shit (affectionate) about their respective favourite persons
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destinydraws · 1 month ago
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It's Motoi's birthday so let him party!
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bleaksqueak · 1 year ago
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I would read an entire book about the magic system and study in Solivaga… i love intense worldbuilding. Do sigils retain/transmit energy or intent through a shape or letter system? Neither, and simply have to be unique and enchanted by the Magi making the sigil?? Or is that more the concept behind Loci… Maia can use sigils, but cannot make her own? Does the attunement of the caster affect the sigil?
None of these are specific questions, I just love the amount of detail in everything. (But if you want to answer anything… I would not stop you 👀
On the other hand if you’ve answered any of this before ignore me)
So I've been wanting to answer this one since the day you sent it, but between my backwards sleep schedule and being busy, I just hadn't had a moment to or the brain power to... yet, today I am here. Sigils absolutely retain the energy and intent spent to make them. You might notice in Chapter 2 when Prof. GB gifts Maia the imbued sigil, even when dormant, it's radiating *her* aetheric signature's color and energy. When activated, the Trapper's Thrall retains the aetheric signature of the magi who originally cast it. Maia remarks later that it's always ever been borrowed magic-- because, to her, especially, it has. She's never seen her own magic's signature, but she's seen, through these pre-cast imbues, the magic of others. Madame Zoe, the owner of the Apothecary (and knickknacks) shop that Maia works at, sells imbued sigils that she (and Maia's coworker, who we'll meet in another chapter) make. There's other shops around town where they can be purchased, including specialty shops that sell them for convenience, younger/elderly magi, and as general disability aids for those who need them. Their most common usage is simply that of convenience-- a sigil cast has already had that aether spent, stored, and replenished for the magi who made it, saving the need to expend further aether in the now for someone who needs to catch some pests or who wants to have their floors swept up and cleaned. Cooling down, heating up, a spare light, pain relief-- even party tricks, ready made sigils are great usage for convenience. As for how they're made-- The spells all have a precise shape language that builds their foundation. The trapper's thrall I did three stages for in chapter 2 -- the precise geometric perfection of the spell in its official state, I did Madame Zoe's handwritten version, and then I did Prof. Gwennebat's.
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You can see them here... the slight differences between the two quickly hand written ones, and the perfected model. The spell in its entirety is written in the sigil itself, and the more complex the spell, the more dynamic the working parts of the geometric language that comprises it. Madame Zoe is older and never became an eidolon, but her work is enough to catch some Mice or Gallynappers (you know, crane flies!) like Maia said. Gwennebat is, however, an eidolic expert in her field, and her shorthand writ for this spell reflects a stronger sense of knowing exactly what must be and where. Each spell must maintain the exact necessity of the language to summon it, but new ones can be made (Granted, this isn't exactly an easy task, and a great deal of the most commonly used spells used by magi within the veil were all coined by a single, well documented scholar from the time before "the worlds were split", as Prof Rasputin put it.). It's a very pictographic writing system with individual sigils themselves feeling more akin to a writing system like kanji, but it's not advised to string a bunch of sigils together to form a cheeky sentence. That's how buildings get evacuated at worst, and angry neighbours at best. As for Maia, before I end this-- Maia can use any sigil so long as she has her vial. Her vial may not be attuned, and it may be magically weak as all nascent aether is, but the vial casing itself and the housed nascent aether still behaves as the catalysts of will. So long as Maia provides these things and enters the mental state required to connect to and summon from the pre-cast sigil, she doesn't need words of invocation, the spell will activate. She carries a fairly large stack of varied, commonly needed sigils with her at all times in her bag. Those imbued on slips of parchment are sadly single usage, so she needs to restock fairly often... luckily, Madame Zoe is fairly generous with her and gives them to her free in exchange for a little bit of extra work around the shop.
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luetta · 4 months ago
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idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.
some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.
so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.
before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'
so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.
this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.
it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.
it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.
another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.
and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.
but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.
crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.
a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.
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kindacreepy-kindaugly · 9 months ago
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...
#wonderin if i could play it smart somehow#make him lose interest in me before i try to make a run for it#i hate that i might need to weaponize doll for that but. it's the only motivation for him to not totally destroy me (physically)#there's plenty of pretty bad shit he can do w/o long-term damage but most of that i already survived once i can do it again (probably)#but there's the. other things. the shit he never did cause he doesn't want that to carry over to doll#but he's talked about it. he's threatened it. smth i'm still so fucking scared of after everythin he's already done#i don't rly even care if he kills me since it wouldn't stick anyway but. what comes before that#n i can't fucking stop thinkin about it#cause he's in my head he knows what i'm most scared of now so if he rly wants to hurt me he knows how to do that#tryin to calculate how much time he'd have b4 reaper can get there. not much#less than a minute. not enough for him to draw it out n rly make me beg for my fucking life (again) but.#enough to hurt me really really really bad if he plans it n gets me close enough before i know what's happening#n it's fucking stupid cause it'd all be solved by me just. not goin to him.#not even when he tells me to. not even when he brings on the charm n says all that sweet shit that really means nothing.#if i just knew how to not fucking listen it'd be ok but he tells me to come home n i lose control of my fucking body.#inside my head i'll be screaming to just fucking run but instead i just take the steps n let him pull me in#let him pick me up n take me wherever he wants to#how do i break this goddamn spell he's got me under. how do i stop him from pullin me back in.#how do i stop him makin my brain so damn confused i can't even remember to get scared before it's too late#i don't want this anymore. i don't wanna be scared anymore i don't want him to turn me against the people who actually care about me#i don't wanna be alone anymore#but he makes me build up all these walls n he's the only one w/ the key when it should be the other way around#he's the one i should be keepin out not everyone else#spdrvent#fuck!!!
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oceantornadoo · 9 months ago
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home invasion
neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence
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there was someone in your room.
you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of trashy reality tv show. however, some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking you up with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.
silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak as blood rushing was the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.
"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.
simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he was always chasing these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught.
"slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." then he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.
ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole and opened the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.
his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved up as if someone tried to pull it off but was stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watched your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.
you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.
simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.
--
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twilightakiishi · 6 months ago
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—NIGHT LIGHT ⋆.˚ ☾
hanma is a childish grumpy baby when he’s been woken up. 0.5k wc ノ fluff ノ a little suggestive.
cw: no pronouns used, hanma calls reader doll and baby, brief mentions of a previous blowjob & free use.
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“doll…” his low grumble comes from beside you as he shakes your shoulder a bit.
you barely glance in his direction as you scroll on your phone. “yes, shuji?” 
“turn the damn light off.”
“huh? there aren’t any lights on.”
he lays there with his eyes still shut a few seconds before he cracks one open and points out the window with a childish grunt. 
you stifle a laugh, “…that’s a street lamp.”
“…huh? for what? why is it on?” he’s clearly half asleep, and a little incoherent. you know you’re safe to giggle as much as you want when he’s like this. 
“so people can see.”
he pouts, throwing an arm over his eyes, “ugh, it’s like, 3am, nobody needs to see anything right now.”
“actually shu, it’s only midnight. and, if i hadn’t sucked you comatose, I’m sure you would be one of the hooligans out and about at this hour.” 
“….close the curtain, doll.”
“no. it’s like a night light, and–
he scoffs, “what do ya need a night light for? dontcha trust me to protect you?”
he wants to bite back and tell you that he doesn’t need a night light, not because he isn’t a little afraid of the dark, but because he feels so safe next to you.
“–and it helps me wake up in the morning when the sun comes through,” you deadpan.
another thing he won’t tell you is how he doesn’t need the sun that streams in through the window every morning; the sight of your sleeping figure beside him is enough. 
but it’s midnight, apparently, and he’s not feeling the type of tired where he can be vulnerable tonight, so he keeps that to himself, even though he desperately wants to know if you feel the same way.
“excuses, excuses,” he tsks. he turns his head toward you and lifts his arm from his eyes, barely cracking them open, “if you hate me just say that.”
“shuji, my dearest. i had your cock down my throat 20 minutes ago.”
he full on glares at you, or at least he attempts to; his sleepy, half lidded eyes betray him. you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched up for a moment, though.
in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he paws around in search of your arm, and grabs you tightly when he finds it, causing you to gasp and drop your phone. with a confused yelp, you’re suddenly manhandled on top of him as he buries his head in your neck, muttering a muffled, “relax, baby.”
you sigh, “shuji, you’re insatiable.”
you feel a deep chuckle resonate against your throat, “c’mon, you told me you like being used, yeah? so be my sleep mask for a lil while...” you roll your eyes at him for using your words against you, and at the way his voice trails off as if he’s already falling back asleep. you can’t help but giggle at your needy god of death who whines when you aren’t touching him for even five minutes.
your personal guard dog, the grim reaper of kabukicho— his world would fall apart without you. 
he’s never told you that, but you feel it through his actions; through the longing in his touch. 
in the morning before he leaves for work, he gives you a tighter hug than usual, and the sweetest, softest kiss. in bed when he grabs at your hands, no matter what position he’s tangled the two of you in, he gently brushes his palm against yours before he squeezes. and now, as his breaths even out and you slowly attempt to shift yourself off him, his arms tighten around your waist with an annoyed huff. 
he feels protected by…well, whatever it is about you; he doesn’t know. it’s less like the way he looms over any poor soul that dares to glance at you a second too long, and more like your soul is the solace that his needed all this time. your presence grounds him in a way he hasn’t experienced before; it warms up his heart and makes him soft. it’s the reason he can’t bear to let go of you in the night, and clings to you as long as he can before he goes out into a life that doesn’t treat him with nearly as much warmth.
despite the headache that he is sometimes, he makes you smile. so you settle in on top of him, because he’s given you no other option than to be his anchor in a world where he can only see the light in your presence. 
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sickeninglyshoujo · 9 months ago
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a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k
Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him
When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.
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I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing
Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that
It’s second nature to him somehow
Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries
You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”
“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”
“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”
“They call them malingators for a reason!”
“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”
The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.
“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”
“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.
“Shut it, Si.”
Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 
Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.
When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record
Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.
After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib
It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly
“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”
“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”
Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too
“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”
“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”
You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.
It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too
It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 
“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”
Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”
Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”
The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave
You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”
“Then damn well let ‘er!”
“What about when they leave!”
“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”
Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.
They need to see the baby!
They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.
You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”
“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”
“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”
“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”
“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)
“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed
You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 
“You ok?”
“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”
He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being
“An’ you wen’ home after that!”
“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”
He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”
“MacTavish,” Simon warned.
“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”
You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you
Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet
Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley
You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 
Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym
When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”
Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 
Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her
SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.
When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning
By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost
He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”
As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”
“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”
“She asks for it!”
“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”
“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”
a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself
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froggibus · 9 months ago
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Valentine's NSFW - Overwatch Men
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Pairings: Baptiste, Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Ramattra & Reaper x fem! reader (reader uses she/her pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
CW: cheesy Valentines things, aftercare, manhandling, bondage, role play, toys, shibari, praise, degradation, dirty talk, oral (giving & receiving) unprotected sex, p in v, cum stuffing, overstimulation, cervix fucking, teasing
i flopped so hard this Valentine’s Day but here’s some overwatch content 😭 im sorry my fellow lucio enjoyers i simply couldn’t do it i could not write him for valentines
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Baptiste:
he’s a busy man, it’s a rare occasion that he has a day off, let alone two 
wants to make the most of his time with you 
takes his time to decorate your room, even changing the sheets to nice red ones and lighting some candles
for him it’s all about the ambience 
takes his time to seduce you, starting with kissing you, then moving down your neck and so on
takes his time with your chest, his expert hands turning you into a moaning mess 
when you’re finally so wet that you’re begging him just to touch you, he knows you’re ready
has you spread out on the bed, his head buried between your legs 
it’s been so long since he was able to eat you out, it’s like a feast to him 
doesn’t stop until you’ve came on his face at least twice, until his beard and chin are dripping with your juices 
he’s so gentle but so intentional with his touches 
teases your clit with his cock and laughs at the way you squirm and plead for him to put it in 
once he puts it in, it’s not coming out until he’s fully satisfied 
the man is insatiable, he’s drilling his cock into you like he’s trying to push it straight into your womb
it brushes your cervix and makes you wince, the pain only adding to the overwhelming pleasure you feel
loves cumming inside of you but saves it for special occasions like today
his aftercare is unmatched, the man has a basket of things to help soothe you after the fact 
he’ll massage your shoulders and talk you down
and always forces you to pee because god forbid you get a UTI (although he’d take extra good care of you then, too)
Cassidy:
wants to try absolutely anything
he’s always a kinky mf but Valentine’s is his excuse to dial it up to 11
buys you cute underwear that you can show off to him 
wants to roleplay 
once you get in bed with this man you’re not getting out all night 
he’ll have your hands cuffed behind your back while he watches you try to ride him 
just watching you struggle to take his cock without bracing yourself with his hands is enough to have him cumming
it’s just so cute how pathetic you are, dragging your walls up and down his thick cock and whining how it’s “too much”
gets tired of your whining and has you flipped in doggy, your head pressed into the mattress
this man is breeding you for hours
even after your pussy is aching and dripping with his cum, he’ll try to keep going 
switches between praise and degradation so fast he gives you whiplash
“so good f’me…takin’ my cock so well.”
spanks you if you get too quiet
“fuck, you’re sucha slut for me, aren’t ya?”
there will be bruises on your wrists from the handcuffs
when he finally lets you out of the bed, you can’t even walk on your own
so he runs you a hot bath with nice smelling salts, candles and lotions 
Genji:
kinky mf 
he’s probably been preparing for tonight for months 
has some of that aphrodisiac chocolate and definitely feeds it to you
so much foreplay 
he has you laying against his chest, legs spread out over his own, your pussy wide open for his fingers to dip into 
he loves playing with you and teasing you, listening to you whimper that’s it’s ’too much’ and you ‘can’t take it anymore’
your cute whines must make him want to bury his cock in you and pound you 
but tonight is about you and he wants to take his time 
definitely brought some toys with him, like a magic wand and a rabbit 
has the vibrator pressed against your clit while he fingers you
even after you cum a few times and whine about how you’re getting overstimulated, he still wants to fuck you until your brain is mush
it’s sweet relief when he finally puts the toys away and lays you down on the bed
you weakly spread your legs around his hips and give him access to your puffy pussy
feels so fucking good 
he gets so deep inside you every time, and he’s going slow enough that you can feel it every time his cockhead brushes your walls
whispers praises in your ear about how good you are, about how you just need to give him one more and he’ll be done 
“one more” turns into an extra hour 
by the end of the night, you’re completely fucked out and drooling, your pussy aching from how good he took care of you
helps you clean yourself up, planting kisses on your burning skin  
Hanzo:
SHIBARI
he’s been waiting so long for you to want to try it
you run to the bedroom when you get back from dinner 
Hanzo is so patient waiting outside until you finally yell come in 
you’ve stripped yourself to just your lingerie and you’re kneeling on the floor, holding silky red ropes in your hands 
he’s instantly hard just seeing you submit to him 
binds you up so nicely in the pretty little ropes, making sure you’re properly tied but keeping all your good places on display
manhandles you in front of him so he can prod at that pretty mouth with his cock
smears pre all of your lips and cheeks before pushing past your mouth and finally feeling your tongue on his length
you look so cute and helpless sitting beneath him and slobbering on his cock 
probably straight up carries you by the ropes on your back and tosses you into the bed 
you are doing it in every position tonight 
bent over, balls slapping your clit with every thrust 
on top of him, laying on his chest clawing desperately while he pounds you
against the wall, over the bed, on your knees, on his lap
he’s taking you any way he can
ends it in a mating press, undoing some of the ropes to offer you enough slack to fold your knees into your chest
leans over and coos about how cute you look with tears and cum smeared on your face
you’re stuffed with cum at the end of the night, laid out in the bed, face on his chest
Ramattra:
has no idea what Valentines is, and even after you explain doesn’t quite understand it
but if it’s important to you…
is teasing you the whole fucking day 
pinning you against the wall and rubbing your pussy until you’re dripping wet, pulling you into his lap when you walk by so you can feel the thrumming in his crotch plate 
he wants you soaked, prepped and ready for him at any time so that when he does decide to take you, he doesn’t have to waste any time
has you cockwarming him while he does work, an arm around your waist to hold you down on his massive length while his other taps away at a keyboard 
you’re squirming and writhing in his lap for more but his grip is like iron 
eventually he gives in to your incessant pleasing
“it’s St Valentines after all”
but don’t even think about trying to disobey him or try anything funny 
pretty much uses you like a flesh light the rest of the night 
the benefit of him being so strong is that he can manoeuvre you in anyway that he wants 
and given that he’s an omnic, he can go all night and never falter 
he’s brutal with his thrusts, pounding into you until your juices are spraying out and coating the plates of his thighs
“Look at how you’re gushing on me,” he teases, “look at how ruined your pussy is.”
probably fucks you until you’re on the verge of falling asleep 
after he’s done with you, when you’re laying and looking al cute and fucked out in his bed
he’ll just brush your hair away from your face. “Happy St Valentine’s, dear.”
Reaper:
he does not give a fuck about Valentine’s Day 
but if it gives him an excuse to take you in anyway he wants, he’s in
absolutely not what he has in mind when you’re binding him to your headboard with handcuffs 
he won’t admit it but he’s into it 
you spend over an hour just teasing him 
rubbing, licking, drooling on his cock, watching the way he shifts uncomfortably with every move 
it’s only after he calls out, “just fuck me or move on, please” that you listen to him 
Reyes never says please so you know he’s desperate 
of course you won’t even think about putting his cock inside of you until he's came in your mouth at least once
when you finally straddle his hips and sink down on his cock, Reaper is beyond impatient 
he’s straining against his handcuffs, telling you what a whore you are and how he can’t wait to get out of these and fuck you silly
you ride him painfully slow, scratching up his chest with your nails as you slide up and down his cock
eventually you get desperate and start bouncing even more, forcing his cock as deep as it can go
just as you’re about to cum, Reaper snaps the bedposts and frees his hands 
you’re in shock from the pure fucking strength it took and have no time to react before he’s flipping you on your back and taking you 
the muscles in his arms are strained as he props himself up above you, veins protruding 
just for teasing him, you’re not leaving the room until you’ve come at least three or four times 
or unless you beg for mercy (though Gabe is a wild card, and it’s a 50/50 if he’ll even let you go)
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