#anyway hope you're all doing well <33333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[sinnersshackled]

guess who is still alive............ ptn girls my beloveds <3333

[airenyah]

when your beloved mutual is back in your notifs and you're like omg. hi. you're not dead. i've missed you. welcome back. i love you.

@moonkhao 😘

[vxsellie]

⋆⁺₊❅.┆WARMTH - E.W

summary. you'd have to be a fool not to notice the cloud of stress that embodies your girlfriend whenever she returns from patrol. in an attempt to salvage the singular ounce of patience she's been desperately hanging onto for the past few weeks, you've yet to address it. but when she's assigned to go on patrol on christmas eve — which she'd been looking forward to spending in your company in hopes of being able to decorate your shared home prior to christmas — that seems to snap the thread. in her absence, you do all you can to alleviate a bit of the tension in her shoulder before her return. notes. the one, the only, jackson!ellie (cue everyone cheering bc ik i am). i've been dying to write something that aligns a bit more naturally with canon bc everything i have on his acc is an au. i love my stories, don't get me wrong, but i can't lie and day i'm happy with that fact. anyway! here she is!! merry chistmas to all who celebrate it, i love u guys <33333 wc. 1.6k

the moment the words left maria's mouth, ellie was already planning how to strangle the woman despite it not having been her fault. she's been on patrol day after day, making it nigh impossible for her to catch a fucking break.

it's her first christmas with you, the two of you having started dating in early march. she was so excited to spend the holiday with you, drinking cocoa by the fire and decorating the tree you'd picked out together. she had woke this morning with the widest smile in knowing it was christmas eve, waking you by peppering kisses across your face until you started giggling. the stark contrast between then and now is almost dizzying.

she'd been so happy in your company, nestled within the plaid covers on the bed. you skin radiated a gentle heat that she found herself clinging to. but then she was assigned this expedition and all the contentment instantly drained from her body as she dreaded sharing the news. but you weren't mad. you just gave a sad smile, an even sadder kiss, then told her to be safe. your lack of irritation almost made the entire thing more tragic.

it's been weeks since the two of you have been able to spend an entire day without interruption. something always arises — whether that be her abundance of patrols, your own mass of them, or one of you being called to speak with someone or work a shift at one of the shops. hence her excitement for christmas eve.

she's currently trudging through the snow with a deep scowl on her face. her boots crunch with each step, the sound only aggravating her. there's a low hum of civilization as she walks through the streets of jackson toward home. a few people attempt to speak with her, only to be dismissed rather harshly as she continues her march through the snow.

the weather is unbearable, a biting cold that makes her bones rattle. on top of that, the moon is high in the sky. meaning she was gone all day as she'd left at dawn.

she reaches your shared home, stomping up the steps of the porch before fumbling with the key. the metal feels like icy against her already frozen fingers as she struggles with it. she's about to give up and sleep on the porch when the door creaks open and your head pokes out. instantly, you beam at her. she gives a weak smile in return despite her personal distaste for the whole of today.

you reach for your coat, step into your slippers and join her on the porch. she's a bit confused by this, but says nothing. you're wearing a pair of festive pajama pants. they're adorable, though she knows they likely do nothing for the cold. you're shivering as you pull the jacket tight around your shoulders.

"what're you doing out here?" she asks, having to put an effort to keep her irritation out of her voice. after all, it's not you she's mad at. it's the situation. you're honestly the best thing that's happened to her today, providing her with warmth this morning as well as a kind smile right now in spite of her harsh tone.

"i have a surprise for you." you say through chattering teeth, which are upturned into a bright smile. "close your eyes before you go inside."

"babe, we agreed no presents until tomorrow." she huffs.

you shoot her a look and she instantly quiets, knowing what you're wordlessly conveying — a reminder to keep her attitude in check when you're done naught wrong. she obliges, offering an apologetic frown before placing her hands over her eyes. her frozen fingertips freeze the skin of her face and she shivers. but when she feels your hand wrap around her bicep and begin guiding her inside, warmth spreads across her at the feel of your comforting familiarity.

she steps inside and is assaulted by the scent of chocolate and pine. the scent of christmas. she's yearning to remove her hands, but withholds from doing so. for your sake. god, you're lucky she loves you so much or she'd not be doing this when her mood is so shitty.

she hears the door shut behind her, your footsteps moving about the living room as she continues to stand in place by the door. your now bare feet pad across the wooden flooring, her sense of smell and hearing heightened in the absence of her sight. the domesticity of your body moving around your shared home is almost overwhelmingly intimate. she knows the sound of your feet, hearing them all day every day. well, not so much recently. she hadn't noticed how much she missed such tiny details of you. like your footsteps — which are suddenly approaching her.

she expects your voice to come first, the order to remove her hands from her eyes. but instead, another sense is brought to her attention as she feels the gentle press of your lips against hers. it feels like the first time she'd ever kissed you. the way it shocks her, then comforts her, then an array of sparks and nerves trace through her body. she desperately wishes she could pull you closer, but her hands are currently unable to be used.

"okay." you breathe after pulling away, voice laced with childlike excitement. "you can open them."

she doesn't hesitate to do so, removing her hands from her eyes. the first thing she notices is you standing a mere two inches from her. everything else dulls in the wake of your brilliance. your festive pajama pants hanging from your hips, your coat still lazily draped over your shoulders, your hair clearly not having been brushed all day as it's frayed on the ends. she finds herself staring at you adoringly, her pupils blown in a sense of fondness.

you giggle, "stop looking at me, look at the house!" begrudgingly, she does. and, needless to say, she's not disappointed.

your guys' house is in the structure of a cabin, the walls and floors made of wood. it's small and open, allowing her to see the entire interior from where she stands. the christmas tree you two had chosen a few weeks ago is now adorned with yellow lights, casting a warm lighting across the space. a few presents sit beneath it, wrapped neatly with ellie's name scribbled onto the tags. the mantle above the fireplace is covered in cute decorations as well, snow globes and little glass deer sitting idly atop the wood. the kitchen is decorated as well, a ceramic santa sitting on the counter atop a plaid table runner. next to him sits two mugs, steam pooling over the edges of them — one red, one green. the perviously cold, empty house is now made into a cozy home.

you two haven't yet been dating for a year and you've already moved in together (lesbians smh), so the house has been rather empty. you've put in all the furniture with help from joel and jesse and tommy, but it's been missing something. the touch of love. the touch of you.

"do you like it?" you ask, nerves evident in your tone. she turns to notice you're wringing your hands, fiddling with your fingers in anticipation for her reply. you instantly rush out an explanation. "i know i probably should have waited for you because i know how excited you were to decorate, but i knew how stressed you've been and wanted to get something out of the way. so you wouldn't have to worry about it. i left a few things still empty, like your boxes are still in the bedroom and a few walls are blank because i don't know what you want hung there. also, i was struggling with the bathroom, so—"

she interrupted you by grabbing your face, cradling your warm cheeks in her frozen fingers. she smiles at you softly, "i love it."

a wide smile breaks across your face and you lean to kiss her. she kisses you back, now able to hold you as she wants. she pulls your body against hers, but you suddenly yank backward. she blinks a few times, worried she'd hurt you somehow.

"you're freezing." you state before raking your eyes up her body. "your jacket is still covered in snow and so are your shoes. els, go change before you get a cold."

she frowns but obliges. you're right, her jacket — which she'd, admittedly, stolen from joel a few weeks prior — is coated with snow and rain and whatever else she got into while killing infected all day. her converse are also wet, the snow having melted and seeped into her socks.

she goes into the bedroom, instantly smiling when she sees how you'd decorated it. the pillows are changed into red and green silk covers and there's a knitted rug on the floor. there's a candle on each nightstand, the scent of cinnamon and clove filling the air. through the window's newly installed crimson curtains, snow falls to the ground in gentle flurries. if you ask ellie, snow is much more enjoyable from afar.

she notices that your dresser is now full rather than having your entire wardrobe shoved into boxes. hers isn't though, as you hadn't known how she'd like her drawers organized. that's fine, though. she digs through the clothing for a comfy outfit and changes into it, now wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of dark grey shorts.

she exits the room to see you sitting at the counter with the red mug between your hands. you're blowing on the hot cocoa, your hair still messy. she joins you, sitting on the wooden stool to your left and grabbing the green one. you see her and smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek before you rest your head on her shoulder.

in this moment, under the warm glow of yellow christmas lights, amid the scent of your candles and chocolate and pine, and most of all being near you, she couldn't imagine ever being happier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel @defnoteleonor @fatbootymuncher

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist @kirammanss @serraphinm @dyk3miffy @vahnilla @mikellie @natgf123 @olkrai @ellieslittleslutt @gingerrgen @millersfinest @aliceellieswife @tthoroughfare

[maxlarens]

ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it

first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all

and nextly, listen to this..

charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?

he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??

anyway have a great day! <33333

UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx

MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)

pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader

word count: 1.9k+

Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.

Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).

He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.

It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—

Not Carlos.

Definitely not Carlos.

(Well, at least it’s not Charles).

Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.

Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.

Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same. 

Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.

“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”

Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.

Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.

“Why?”, he caves.

Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."

Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.

Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.

Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.

Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.

There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.

If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.

He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.

There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.

"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."

Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?

"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."

You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.

He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"

You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."

You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.

"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"

Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.

"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."

This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.

He hopes you do at least.

You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.

“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”

Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”

The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.

You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”

Maxie. Maxie.

Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”

“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”

Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.

“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”

His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.

Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”

Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.

Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”

You hum, “Really, really.”

It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.

Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”

Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.

“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.

You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.

You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.

[x-reader-things]

Hello!I just stumbled upon your recent post about opening up commissions again. And it makes me happy you do Arcane!😅. Anyway I was maybe hoping for my request/suggestion.

Vi x female reader(She/her). It's just romantic of course!idk of you're comfortable with a single mother fem y/n?like reader already has the child it's ok to not do this!!

I just more so want some Vi x female reader where Vi gets out of Still water and going to find her onve teen girlfriend again baisvally a chess reunion between them

It's been a while since I've written a request, and anything for Arcane in that matter so I hope this isn't too ooc-

Anyways I love Vi <33333

"I trust her."

Vi x f!reader [could be easily read as gn!reader though too, no phsyical specifics about reader were described]

Summary ; In which Vi discovers you're looking after a kid.

Requested? ; Yes.

Warnings ; None, outside of a small description of an injury and some mentions of enforcers being awful.

Word count ; 1.3 k words.

——————————————————————

"You... have a kid?"

The small hellion behind you hid by your legs. He barely reached past your knees. A bit small for a five year old, but given the circumstances of Zaun... it was the norm.

You turned towards the kid, and placed a comforting hand on the top of his head. He visibly relaxed at the gesture, and tentatively peaked out to look at the strong woman in front of you both.

"Not my kid by blood, Vi", you told her with a forced chuckle. "You know me, I don't think I'd get with any of the guys down here in Zaun. Even here in the Firelights."

Vi took her gaze off of the kid, and settled her eyes on you.

"Well...", she started, her tone a bit tense. "It has been, what, seven years? Things change."

Except you, she hoped. Kind hearted, beautiful you. A light in the dark of Zaun and Piltover alike. At least, that's how she described you as when it was just her and Vander, talking about everything and nothing during one of the calmer nights before shit hit the fan.

"Not always", you replied. You kept your voice calm, and careful. A habit you've made for yourself whenever the Firelights let in someone new. It kept the children the group took care of calm, and kept the adults from lashing out. You did that because you had no idea what the newcomers had been through. Be it their addiction to Shimmer, loss of a loved one, or the brutality of an enforcer.

You had to make sure there was a level of trust. And stars know how you needed to keep that up with Vi, with everything she's been through at Stillwater. Keep a level head. Don't let all your old emotions and memories resurface to the cracks you painstakingly had to fill.

Especially with the little guy near your legs, who had begun to stare tiny daggers at Vi.

"This little guy--", you began, voice straining with a bit of effort while you hauled him up to your hip. "--is still new here. Kind of. Won't leave my side, not that I mind. Scar said it was like I was... reverse adopted or something like that."

You smiled wryly at the thought. "I figured why not take him under my wing? Help him acclimate and get used to it here. I had extra space in my room too, so it all worked out."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Vi's mouth. You were still just as kindhearted as when you both were teenagers. Still lovely.

Good, she thinks. That's good.

"So... not your kid then, bird?"

The nickname fell so seamlessly off her tongue. A nickname she gave you because during your little exploits up to Piltover, whenever it was just you and her, you practically flew around the buildings. You had told her it was because you had a good teacher to help you. If Vi remembered correctly, that was around the time of her first kiss with you.

She said you were amazing, you said you had a good teacher and gave her the softest eyes she could ever imagine and then...

Well, your glance away from her said it all. You remembered it too.

She missed you so much.

Clearing your throat, you continued. "No, no, he's still my kid. Best kid all around - and I will be biased, 'cause he's a great helper, isn't that right, Clay?"

Clay, the boy in your arms, nodded. He still glowered at the woman in front of you.

"Doesn't seem like he likes me all that much", Vi said. She shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket, and took a small step forward. Clay leaned back into you defensively, and a small arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders. Vi raised a brow at that. A curious one, rather than the usual judgemental one.

You adjusted your hold on the five year old, one hand raised to his back to keep him stable on your hip. Your other hand moved to his arm, and gently pried his hand off of your shoulder. You let him keep a hold on your hand to mess with it, an action you were used to doing by then. Over time you had found out the kid was tactile, and hated being left alone for too long.

"He doesn't trust people he doesn't know too well. Gets quiet, too. Plus you were hauled in here with a bag over your head and got tied up before Ekko found out it was you, and not some other piltie, so...", you shrugged. Vi huffed out a wry laugh.

"Figures. I wouldn't trust me either, kid", she said to Clay. Clay blinked at her, the sharpness in his eyes reducing the slightest bit.

"Vi, here, isn't like those pilties though", you said to him. "She's not like those enforcers from what happened, kiddo. Can't say much for that friend of hers, but Vi's trustworthy. You alright if I show you?"

You held out the hand he was playing with, and opened it with your palm facing up, as if you were offering your hand over to Vi. Clay glanced in between you both, and regarded Vi with a careful scrutiny. When he saw the care in your eyes, and the calmness in both of you, he quietly spoke.

" 'Think so."

"You sure?", you asked. Vi swears your voice got ten times more gentle, ten times more sweet. Although, that could be the nostalgia talking. Nonetheless, it was still there. "I don't wanna do something you're uncomfortable with, bud."

" 'M sure."

"Alright." You nodded at him, and your eyes went back to Vi. Your hand still remained outstretched towards her, a quiet beckon for her to take it into her own. Just like you've done dozens of times before this, when you were just teenagers. Just kids.

Your eyes traced over her. Took in every new scar, every new tattoo and muscle. Her hands were infinitely roughed up, even with the bandages over them. However, it was still her. Still Vi.

Your Vi.

Changes or no changes, she was still the person you grew to love years ago. And hopefully, she still understood that silent plea in your eyes to hold her hand.

Vi's eyes, the softest of powder blue, went gentle. The bags under them still sagged, but the weight of them lightened. Almost tentatively, she raised her hand to yours.

The briefest of touches, her fingertips to yours, sparked with static. Vi flinched her hand away at first, and shared a laugh with you at how sudden it was. But after that, her hand slipped right onto yours.

You squeezed her wrist, and she did the same. You turned her hand over, so that her own hand was laid out, palm up, and raised it just a bit so that Clay could see it better.

"See? She's not so bad", you mumbled. "Rough around the edges, sure, but everyone is. Vi won't hurt you, and she won't hurt me."

Clay stared at Vi's hand, and listened carefully to your words. He reached down, and placed his small hand onto the bandages covering Vi's palm.

The sleeve on his jacket rose up, showing the bandages wrapped around his own wrist. An injury from a harsh scrape he got from running away from an enforcer. By the time you and a few firelights found him, it was already infected. Luckily, back there at the Firelight's tree, there were enough antibiotics there to help. And luckily, he was healing.

Vi and Clay looked up at each other. The tension pulling at Clay's shoulders dropped some, and Vi just gave him a small nod.

"See what I mean, Clay?" Your thumb brushed against her wrist, moving slowly in a crescent shape against her skin. A habit you used to have, years ago. "She won't hurt us."

You gazed back into her eyes. Longing and love and hurt swirled behind them. Tapered down, but still there.

"I trust her."

I missed you.

[jermer10]

Helloo can I have the mercs taking care of a very sick gn reader?not feeling very well so some hurt comfort could help if you can! Tyyy

TF2 mercs taking care of a very sick reader

gn reader | i hope you get well soon anon! thank you for the ask :)

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout: - most likely just as sick, if not WORSE - he already can't keep his paws off you, he'll wanna smooch your sick little face until you feel better - he will bundle you up in blankets and cuddle you whilst you watch movies <33333333 - he runs out to get you a warm drink from your local cafe, tries (keyword tries) to make you your favourite warm meal - he will burn it, doesn't matter what it is, and you are forced to try and scoff down the meal - you throw up shortly after and scout just chalks it up to you getting even more sick - it's all in vein when he wakes up a couple days later feeling worse for wear and is stuck in bed with you - medic opts to take care of you - you both decline

Soldier: - he would firstly encourage you to work it off, trips to the gym, pushing you into battle - when he realizes that the respawn machine isn't fixing you, he forces you into bed rest - you play up your resistance, he pushes you further - "YOU MUST REST THIS INSTANT, CUPCAKE!" "auuughhh noooo i think you're riiiiight" - you giggle to yourself when he leaves the room - that amusement is short lived when he soon brings back some unidentifiable, viscous, black liquid in a small ceramic bowel - he says it's supposed to be soup - you throw up then and there from the stench - cooking isn't his strong suit, so he opts to tuck you in and kiss you goodnight - you graciously sleep off the illness

Pyro: - they're surprisingly good at taking care of you whilst sick - they, first of all, provide you with actual medicine, then they make you some soup and bread - you're pampered like royalty, your every little request answered by the pyro - they watch movies with you, cuddling you from behind - opting to keep their mask on, of course, to prevent the illness from spreading to them - that doesn't stop them from lifting it up slightly to peck your head as you sleep in their arms <33333 - gives you back massages, foot massages, traces their fingertips along your flesh - like i said, you are absolutely pampered. the other mercs would be shocked to see this side of them - you recover quickly!! all thanks to pyro <3

Demoman: - opts to leave you alone so that you can actually get some rest - when you do see him, he's bringing you medicine and food, giving you a quick peck on the lips, and leaving the room - it makes you a bit upset, you haven't really spent time with him in days!! :( - you wake up sometime during the night to find him curled up next to you, arms wrapped around your frame and nuzzling into you - you figure he's already going to get sick from this, so a couple of little kisses couldn't hurt - "mmm that tickles y/n...." he mumbles tiredly, giving you a squeeze - he soon wakes up, groggy and half drunk, to the feeling of you squeezing him back and peppering kisses all over his face and neck - "i missed ye too, lovey" - in his attempt to stay away from you, he ended up smothering you anyway, such is the way of demo

Heavy: - takes every precaution - growing up in the middle of russia with harsh winters that often left his sisters sick and vulnerable, with no easy access to medicine, it's a wonder that he would even let you get sick in the first place - so if you manage to, he is doing everything in his power to help you heal - he won't even let you get up to pee by yourself, you'll need him to carry you there so that you don't use your energy - well he's joking about that....partly... - absolutely refuses to have any physical intimacy with you whilst sick, he is the beating, murderous heart of the team and can't risk an illness - he still lets you know that you're loved, of course - showering you with words of love, providing you with all the care within his means <33

Engineer: - knowing engie, he would be too caught up with work to provide extensive care for you - he provides medicine, cooks you warm food, makes you warm drinks, etc - essentially the bare minimum of taking care for your sick partner - you don't mind, you know he's busy, but you still miss his warm touch and sweet words - "eenngggiiiieeeee plllleeeeaaasseeee taake caaaaree of meee" "i'm comin' darlin', just gimme a minute..." - he is NOT, in fact, 'comin'' - at least not for another hour or so because he is stuck in whatever he's working on - you are forced to drape yourself over his desk, immediately grabbing his attention, and passing out from the exhaustion - he carries you back to bed, feigning annoyance at your antics

Medic: - he's....literally a doctor - and an experimental one at that! - medic will give you plenty of different medicine, not entiiiiirely legal medicine, or medicine that has been tested in any capacity...but still medicine! - you're likely to end up more sick after letting medic take care of you - but he makes up for it! - you're petting archimedes whilst medic's cooking you a warm meal - is this what heaven feels like? - and then he feeds you another mystery pill and you're back to shitting your guts out and oh your skin is glowing! like nuclear green glowing! - yes you died from the mystery pills - but upon respawning you're....cured? - "zhe pills may need some more workzhopping!"

Sniper: - has pretty much no idea what to do - he doesn't really get sick, and when he does he does not give a shit, he will work in health and sickness - so when you're sick, he just grabs you some painkillers and tells you that you'll be alright, to take the day off, and drink some water - when he comes back from the match and you're lying in bed, pale, sweating, and shivering, he realizes that maybe you're a bit worse for wear - he consults an actual doctor, not medic, he has more common sense than that, and manages to get some advice for looking after you in this state - whilst he adores you, he can barely take care of himself, let alone you on top of that - awkwardly tries to make you feel better through cuddling and acts of service

Spy: - another merc who prefers to leave you to essentially take care of yourself giving the bare minimum to support you - he loves you, but he doesn't want to get sick and he doesn't really have the time or capacity to take care of you in a personal, meaningful way - so he will opt to giving you meds and nice foods, will occasionally kiss your head and stroke your hair, but that's the furthest he will go in terms of providing for you in this state - he will feel bad about it, often contemplating telling the other mercs to piss off and sitting with you, missing out on work to take care of his partner - he probably gives in eventually, especially if you're acting like you don't need him, it makes him want you more - will end up smothering you slightly, helping you heal whilst pampering you with kisses in a fake begrudging way

[eroset]

hello!! hole ur doing well, can i request top!m reader w beel from OM? smth involving lingeries n feminization maybe? tyyy<3

TYYYY FOR REQUESTING THIS I GOT CARRIED AWAY CZ I LUUUUUUV BEEL + LINGERIE + FEMINIZATION IT MAKES ME CRAZY KISSES KISSES u accidentally hit one of my favvvv things so idc that its outrageously long <33333 the typo is so funny i would be doing better with a hole. anyway i am doing well here is a gift just 4 u my love hee hee i hope u like itttt🙈

cw: chest/nipple play (c. receiving), chestjob (r. receiving), oral (r. receiving), feminization, praise. ended up making reader more of a soft dom than just a top so 4give me if you did not want that <33

minors dni!

"what is this?"

on his knees in front of your closet in the aftermath of a failed stashed snack raid, beelzebub holds up a fine strip of fabric; a shimmering piece from a lingerie set that costed more than your life, probably.

"oh, that's from asmo. he said i could break it in."

beel gives you a blank look as you speak. "break it in?" and you see his hands tense toward the literal, flexing in a manner as if he intends to shred the fabric. your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, though you know your own strength won't stop him.

"as in use!" you breathe out a sigh of relief when he stops.

"why couldn't asmo use it? isn't it his?" he holds it up to inspect it properly. it's a white, lacy thing with a delicate trim that catches in the light. it's transparent and gauzy in places, with silk ribbons to hold it all together. it's pretty.

not functional, though. asmo had been given a boxed promotional set in an array of sizes, many of which were much too big for him, and much too expensive to just brazenly throw out. he'd opted instead to pawn gift them to you.

beel frowns when you explain this. runs a thumb over the fabric, thoughtful. "it doesn't look too big."

you grin. "he said the top half was way too big for him. he doesn't like women's lingerie, says it fits weird on him. it'd probably fit you, though." you stand from your crouched position beside him, ruffling his hair. "your chest is like a girl's, anyway. guess you're luckier than he is."

and something clicks.

...

it takes months from then for him to work up to this.

for someone like beelzebub, who is simple in his pleasures, who doesn't bother thinking over what he would and wouldn't theoretically like (what's the point?), who is instead content in sticking to what he knows feels good and basks in it, this is a step in a direction he doesn't know what to make of.

but he doesn't see the point thinking too much about it, because if it feels good, then what does it matter?

and it does feel good. it felt good when you said it so easily with him on his knees: your chest is like a girl's, anyway. and when you joked during levi's boring tabletop roleplaying game on your character's twist royal lineage, when asked who your princess would be, your hand flirtily on his knee under the table: beel, i guess. and after one of his work out sessions, when his shirt rode up and you zeroed in on it like a moth to a flame, smoothed a hand thoughtfully over his waist: like one of those bikini models in mammon's fashion magazines.

and it feels good now, when you have him seated on your lap on your couch like something precious, dressed up for you in white lace and silk.

beel doesn't feel self-conscious, even when he's wearing so little. the lingerie fits him well, as you'd predicted. the bralette of the dress clings to his chest, stretched tight over his pecs and fanning out in a pretty skirt that he can't help but fidget with. the suspender belt and stockings were a fight to get on, but they make his legs feel smooth, and he likes the way your eyes darken when you gaze over his skin pudging out of the tight straps crossing up his thighs.

"no," he says with a shake of his head, and he leans forward a little, into you, still towering over you. it's a wonder how you can make him feel small and cherished when he's so much bigger than you are. his thick thighs splay across your hips, and they tense when you run your hands over them.

"you look like a doll," you say with a smile, and that look is in your eye again. it makes his stomach hot. your finger hooks under one of the straps on his thigh and pull it taut. it pops back against his skin with a snap!, and he jumps. you smile at that, too. it makes his stomach hotter.

he sits still while your hands work over him, smoothing and cupping over his body. sometimes over the lingerie and sometimes under, and the touches are long and hot enough for him to end up with him starting to get hard, tense in the way he always gets when he wants friction but wants even more to behave for you. it feels weird to be stroked like this, like you really are admiring the craftmanship of a doll, or maybe just groping him like a pervert, but it's not unpleasant.

"it fits you so well." you pinch and stoke up his waist, just under the hem of the bralette, and he finally realizes your intent when he sees your eyes fix on his chest. "especially here." oh, but he's always too quick to get worked up when you play around with him like this.

"um, wait," he says, hands flying to circle your arms, but your palms are already cupping the meat of his pecs firmly, and he jerks forward without meaning to. instead of pulling them away, all he can do is cling to your forearms when you make a massaging motion. heat coils in him and he releases a heavy sigh. "i..."

you look back up at him, feigning innocence. "is something wrong?"

"no, i just- ah," he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed. his knees try to knock together but only end up squeezing your hips. "my chest..." his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

beelzebub doesn't continue. your hands continue their motions, kneading his pecs with the firm intent of making him blush and shudder in your lap, and of course it works - his chest has always been sensitive. his arms shake when they circle your head to rest his forearms along the back of the couch, leaning into your touch.

he chokes out a sound when your thumbs finally press over his nipples, and his hips stutter into yours. you rub them in short, firm circles that make him purr, boneless against you, feeling much too hot to really lament getting hard so quickly. you've always liked to exploit this weakness of his.

your hips cant up into his hips and he whines against your neck open-mouthed as you roll them between your thumbs. "that was fast."

"uh-huh," he pants. he rolls his hips firmly and without rhythm, just seeking friction - you haven't reprimanded him for it, so he's not doing anything wrong, right? he continues rocking eagerly.

"i was right about what i said before," you coo into his ear, a distraction from your nips and squeezes at his nipples between your fingers. "your chest is like a girl's." and you press down on them again, hard, and buck your hips up just right, and he melts against you with a sweet moan.

it's a short-lived pleasure. he grumbles a confused sound when you push him back, leaning him back in your lap. his cock is hard and heavy, straining up against his white panties, but they must be enchanted to stay in place. he jerks forward without meaning to when you give his chest one final squeeze, a glint in your eyes.

"i wanna see what else i can do with them."

...

beelzebub sits dutifully between your spread thighs, ignoring the fire in his gut in favor of staring in anticipation at your cock tenting against the zipper of your jeans.

"it tastes weird," he complains as you swipe your thumb under his lower lip, wiping away any wayward pink. but his eyes remain glued to your cock, and he swallows reflexively.

"not about how it tastes. it's supposed to make you look pretty." you cap the lipstick and set it aside. (or was it lip gloss? he doesn't know the difference.)

beel squirms a little and finally tears his gaze from your bulge, hands tentatively squeezing your knees. "do i?" he asks quietly. he looks away when you meet his gaze, bashful. "do i look pretty like a..." you've called him pretty in the past, but this time...

your hand catches on his jaw and force his head back to look at you. "like a girl?" you clarify, and your grip softens with a fond smile when he slowly and bashfully nods. your thumb presses against his lips, despite being so careful in your application of color, and he opens it pliantly. "you look like a very pretty girl, beel."

"oh," he breathes, your thumb pressed firmly on his tongue while your knuckles hold under his chin, keeping his mouth open. he squeezes your knees again and clenches his own together and his eyes once more fall down when your other hand drifts to your zipper.

he should be embarrassed about the way he salivates when your cock springs free, especially since you can feel it when you hold his mouth open. you fist your cock and stroke it slowly, watching as he swallows reflexively around nothing, and his spine tingles when you chuckle lowly.

"sit still, beel." you warn, and pull him toward your cock and angle it properly for him, just enough to almost graze the hot head of it against his tongue. you say something else but just the smell of you so close to him has his brain sparking. all he can do is nod to whatever you said, sharp and jerky, eyes wide and begging.

but you still don't release him. you keep your grip on his chin, holding him in place as you slowly and firmly stroke yourself, head angled toward his tongue, so close, as if you were just going to cum over his tongue and he whines low, now confused. you knew how much he loved you in his mouth- what were you doing?

you smile as beel squirms, this time shifting to angle your hips up a little. but when you pull him forward, you pull him up- away from your cock, and the momentum pulls his chest forward, cushioning it against your stomach. you sigh at the feeling and release his mouth, which is drooling freely.

"like this," you murmur, your hands guiding his to the sides of his chest. he pushes his pecs together as you direct him to, wobbling a little on his knees before he steadies himself.

his eye snap from your cock sandwiched between his pecs to your face a little frantically once he realizes that you aren't, in fact, going to throatfuck him. "but-"

"not yet, baby," you croon, like he's so silly for wanting your cock in his mouth instead of between his tits. "said i wanted to play with your chest more, didn't i? you're doing so good."

one of your hands grips his hair at the back of his head, not enough to hurt, just to steady him. the other wiggles between where you're connected; you fiddle with the ribboned straps of his bralette, feeding your cock underneath it to hug it firmly between his pecs, and he shudders when you rub one of his nipples with a thumb for good measure before you lean back.

like this, you direct, and beel can't help but obey you when you manhandle him in in how to move. it's a much tighter fit than he thought it'd be- the meat of his chest already pops a bit between the ribbons, made all the tighter with the heat of your thick cock pulsing between them. he's clumsy at first, not sure how tight to squeeze or how fast to move, but he gains a slow and steady rhythm after a while, one that makes you coo in approval.

the sight of it is mesmerizing, your fat cockhead thrusting in and out of his pecs with a slick pop every time it reappears. it's hot and sticky from his drool, which makes for an easier glide, and soon he's getting into it too, panting a little every time he goes down.

and with you groaning above him, his own arousal is long forgotten in favor of chasing yours.

you thrust your hips up once when he strokes down and your cock hits his chin, smearing against his lips; he gasps and heat floods him at the taste, the way it always does. his tongue sticks out reflexively, swirling around the head of your cock, and when you don't scold him he moans around it, head bobbing down.

from this position he can't take much, but even just the inch he gets in his mouth is amazing. he sucks it dutifully, reverently, and massages his chest around you, coaxing your cock to spit more delicious precum against his tongue.

"fuck," you wheeze, and beelzebub gargles a moan when you thrust up higher. "your mouth's so fucking hot." your tone makes his hole clench, but before he can really get into it, the grip you have on his hair pulls his head off. he suckles at your head as you pull out, a strand of saliva connecting your pulsing head to his mouth.

he licks his lips greedily, savoring the flavor, and pants open-mouthed when you thrust between his chest. "more," he whines, tongue hanging out to catch your cockhead every time you thrust up. he squeezes his pecs together and bounces them on your cock, eager for your cum, and moans when you hiss in pleasure.

"jus' like that," you slur, rocking your hips with him. "so good, you're doing so good."

he sucks at your head greedily whenever it reaches his mouth, tonguing your slit and laving it with care, all the while pinching and rolling you in his chest. his hips buck against one of your calves clumsily, more of an afterthought to the pleasure of his mouth, and he chokes on his spit when you abruptly shove his head down, feeding your cock in deeper.

"take it," you grunt, and he sucks you into his mouth as deep as he can with his chest in the way. it's wet and sticky from drool and precum, and your balls slap noisily against the underside of his pecs every time he bounces them down. it's lewd but he doesn't care, too caught up in the wet heat of everything to focus on anything else but your voice and your cock throbbing against his chest and the way your free hand thumbs at one of his nipples. "that's it, take it, swallow it all like a good girl."

he does so obediently, moaning all the while, swallowing down the thick load you give him, hot and sticky in his mouth, like a good girl. he can feel everything, every throb of your lipstick-peppered cock between his chest as you thrust into him, every pulse of your heavy balls against the satin ropes crossing his chest as your cock spits rope after rope of sticky cum over his tongue and the back of his throat. he doesn't stop, milking you for as much cum as he can get; swirls his tongue against your head as he sucks, head bobbing, massaging his tits around you. the extra attention makes it last longer than most of your orgasms, and you grunt and roll your hips with him, prolonging it for as much as you can. his eyes roll. he's in heaven.

finally, you eventually pull beel off, this time with more effort- he suckles you all the while, greedy to keep you in, and finally separates with a final yank and a satisfying pop. “tastes so good.” he drools, still panting, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, a slow, satisfied look creeping into his dewy eyes.

he rubs his cheek against your palm happily when you settle it down on him, like a cat, not caring about the smearing of drool or lipstick or cum. the heat in him hasn't quelled, but he's more sated now with a bellyful of your hot cum. his favorite snack. your other hand fidgets with his chest and he squeaks when you tweak his nipples, pulling your cock free from under his lingerie with a lewd, sticky sound.

he almost thinks you're done until you knock your calf up, right against his cock- he moans suddenly and jerks his hips down to meet you, gripping your spit-stained jeans.

"we're not done yet, don't worry." your fist returns to his hair and pulls him up higher and higher, knee firm between his legs, until you can pepper his jaw with kisses. "don't you want me to fuck you like a good girl, too, beel?"

[anincompletelist]

happy wednesday! :D

HELLO I know I have missed at least the last one (if not two) rounds of tags but I have the brain space to share today so THANK YOU @onthewaytosomewhere @welcometololaland @littlemisskittentoes @kiwiana-writes

@suseagull04 @msmarvelouswinchester @priincebutt @itsmaybitheway

@thinkof-england @thedramasummer @nocoastposts @agostobuwan for the lovely tags! I am very much looking forward to reading through all of these this afternoon! <33333

today's snip is a bit longer, so I'll slip it under the cut! I *think* this is the first time I've debuted this guy so.... enjoy? kdjhfkjhsgkfhjg

hope you're all well! xx

+

“So… I guess you’ve probably seen the news,” Alex says from the doorway, more so to his shuffling feet than to Henry himself. 

“I usually try to actively avoid watching the news,” Henry tells him. “You’ll have to be more specific.” 

“Right. The, uh, Claremont-Diaz-for-2040-thing?” 

“Ah, yes,” Henry nods, his fingers twitching where they’re tucked underneath his crossed arms. “Your dream come true. Your parents must be so proud.” 

Alex’s face twists up into an odd half-grimace, half-smile, a divot between his brows as he surveys his wringing hands. “Anyway. I was kind of hoping that…” 

“If you’re looking for some kind of endorsement or political favor I’m afraid I’m not involved in any of that anymore.” 

His gaze finally snaps to Henry, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t— I just…” 

He sighs, dropping his hands, lifting one to drag through his curls, much longer than Henry remembers and a little silver with age. He’s always been able to tell when Alex was overthinking, even if they were never close. That much, at least, hasn’t changed. 

“I was wondering if I could live with you. For a little while. Here,” Alex says finally. 

Henry blinks. “Sorry?” 

“I was wondering,” Alex huffs, his eyes rolling briefly, “if I could live with you.” 

It doesn’t make any sense. Alex is a well known politician back in New York, the primary presidential candidate for the upcoming election. Henry presumes he could likely stay just about anywhere he’d like, and he has an exceedingly difficult time believing that that place is in the foothills of Finland with the ex-prince he’d made very clear on several occasions he, quite emphatically, disliked. 

The damage control hadn’t worked, because Henry was damaged enough for the both of them. The avoiding was better. He’d thought he could be rid of Alex for good. Could finally put to rest the feelings he’d had in his youth, shove them under the years that have built up between them since then and pretend they never existed in the first place.

Staring into his wide, hopeful, bottomless brown eyes, the same fire in them from years past, Henry thinks he really should have known better. 

“I’m sorry,” Henry murmurs, his throat tight, “it sounds like you’re asking me if you could live here.” 

Alex only shrugs. “Well, I mean. It should, probably. Since that’s what I’m doing.”

+

no pressure, of course, and OPEN TAG!

@wordsofhoneydew @firenati0n @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @affectionatelyrs

@cha-melodius @anchoredarchangel @rmd-writes @read-and-write-

@magicandarchery @happiness-of-the-pursuit @getmehighonmagic @junebugclaremontdiaz

@bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @whimsymanaged

(here's hoping the tags work friends jshdkjshgkfhjg <333)

xx

[zoeykallus]

Hiiii!!!! I love ur work sm <<<<33333

If you get the chance could you do reader with an anxiety/panic disorder + platonic bad batch

Maybe with some snuggles from wrecker bc I love him SO MUCH <<<<<33333

Aloha! Thanks a lot! Love to read that! 😊 Okay, I'm not really sure if you want this as HCs or a One-shot. But it sounds like a One-shot, with all of them but focus on Wrecker? Let me give it a try. I'm not really a proffesionell, so I can only draw from my own experience regarding anxiety and panic. I hope that works for you. If not, I would need a little more details.

The Bad Batch x Platonic Reader One-Shot - We Have Your Back

Warnings: anxiety/panic disorder/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

____________________

You let yourself be persuaded to go to the market with the boys. Actually, it's not a good idea, today is not a good day, you feel it in your bones, but you don't want to be a killjoy. Against your better judgment, you go along anyway.

While you stroll through the market, you concentrate on the boys as your fixed points, your safety buffers. But there's really a lot going on at the market today. So many people, so many smells, sounds, voices. It's actually not that warm, but you start to sweat a little.

Your eyes twitch back and forth, you don't know what to focus on first, you feel harried and lost at the same time. You constantly have the feeling that you are being watched, subliminally you expect to be grabbed by some stranger at any time. It's not a full on panic attack yet, but you know it's about to happen.

You feel helpless, trying to fight that upcoming feeling of paralyzing fear, but it only seems to get worse.

Suddenly, Hunter stops and turns to you.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

You force yourself to smile and say, "Sure."

His gaze is critical, but he doesn't contradict you.

"Okay, if you say so"

It's only a small gesture, and if you weren't so observant you might have missed it, but you see Hunter barely noticeably giving hand signals to his brothers. Like a ring of protection, the boys form around you almost unobtrusively, enclosing you in their midst like a shield.

You look up and Echo smiles gently at you. Tech shows you something on his holopad and distracts you with a few facts about the planet. Crosshair lets you nibble on some dried fruit he bought.

The guys already know that you suffer from these attacks from time to time, by now they know how to deal with it quite well. Wrecker takes your hand very gently. When you look up at him, he smirks at you.

"We've got you, dear."

Your heart beats faster with joy and relief. You take a deep breath and return his smirk. You are incredibly grateful.

Carefully, Wrecker puts his arm around your shoulders and gently presses you against his side.

"You're perfectly safe here," he says softly.

Touched, you say, "I know Wrecker, thank you."

Tech suggests buying stuff for a picnic or barbecue and going to a quieter place. You're not the only one who likes the idea.

That evening you sit together in the middle of nowhere around a campfire, the Marauder hidden not far from you between some trees. Over the fire is a rack that Tech has put together, on which vegetables and pieces of meat are roasting.

You are leaning against Wrecker's strong chest, he holds you gently in his arms. It feels wonderful, safe, warm, secure. The food over the fire smells so good, the night sky is starry. It seems like a perfect evening, it feels like the world is in order again. There is no fear lurking somewhere in the back of your mind, not now.

You sit back in relief as you hear Echo say, "It's okay if you say no, by the way, you don't have to go along with everything if you don't feel like it, dear."

You blink and look at him in surprise.

Tech adds, "We want you to feel comfortable, but to assure that, you have to be honest with us."

Hunter nods in agreement and says, "None of us are judging you."

Crosshair growls, "Stop saying only what you think we want to hear."

Wrecker squeezes you gently with a soft laugh and says, "What Crosshair is saying is that we want you to be comfortable, so you need to tell us honestly what you want and how you feel"

You smile cautiously and say softly, "Sounds reasonable. Thanks guys"

Hunter assures you, "We'll always have your back, never hesitate to let us know when you need something"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@taskfork-archive

@cpnt616

@starwarsnerd111

[otrtbs]

going vaguely insane trying to figure out which character in AM corresponds to which in TSH. James is giving Richard but his spending habits are giving Bunny?? Remus is also giving Richard in the more traditional sense but he's not the narrator… Regulus is giving Francis for obvious reasons but he also seems way more in control and conniving than Francis's silly "are you mad at me??" self, so I feel like Regulus is going to serve the Henry Winter mastermind role. Which I think leaves Sirius to be more like Francis in the personality sense, coming back to Remus as Richard. And I think Barty is more of a Charles considering everything. (“Fuck the Lascaux paintings!” — I audibly gasped in horror). Not that it matters, cause I know you're forging your own path in the story & they aren't going to correspond precisely to TSH, but I'm trying to brace myself for the MCD and I am VERY aware of how TSH ends. I'm also very worried about Remus's simmering resentment toward James's wealth... Anyway I think you're a genius and a massive congratulations on your new job!

hahahahahaha

yes! the characters in AM do not correspond directly to the characters in TSH!! (emmeline and lily are both judy poovey-esque and regulus is francis-ish and henry winter-ish barty is giving charles atm and evan is just evan lmaoo) but they're all also still themselves as well,,, i hope??? that's what i'm trying to achieve!!

THE END OF THE TSH THE END THIS PART

“Are you happy here?" I said at last. He considered this for a moment. "Not particularly," he said. "But you're not very happy where you are, either.”

LIKE?????AHHHHHH !!! the mcd is always there,,,, always looming!!! 😈 we will just have to see how it all pans out !!!! :)

also thank you so much for the kind words and well-wishes!! that's very sweet of you <33333

[myers-meadow]

Dropping on by since I haven’t been here in a bit- ;v; sorry. I’ve missed ya bestie

so. otis. imagine your being like, dragged and yanked into his room by him, and your squirming a lot, so he whips around and wraps his hand around your throat…and you moan- but then like- instantly freeze, and just like. Flabbergasted. and your all like “…welp..I’ve uh..I’ve found out something about myself today…this is awkward now…”

But Otis doesn’t think it’s awkward at all. Infact, now he’s fascinated by you. Intrigued by what other noises you’ll make for him, without even being threatened to do so.

anyways that’s been rotting my brain, and I hope your having an amazing day/night/June, and I wish you well for this pride :D

❎-

SDLKFJSKFJ this is so good augoiugh

So glad to have you back, thank you for sending this delightful, delightful thought my way <33333

ooooooh you're in for it now!! He's gonna take full advantage of the knowledge that little moan just gave him ;;;

It's almost an experiment to him, to see what he can draw from you, which actions receive a whimper, which get a moan. He can't be nice about it either so you're getting overstimulated and denied before he even gets going proper;;;;

Also, even outside of these experiments of his, know that he knows you enjoy being manhandled like this... it's gonna happen. A Lot. Casually, in the kitchen, when he passes you by in the hallway, when you're brushing your teeth or folding up laundry.... anytime is fair game now ^^.

Love you friend!!! <3

xoxo

[specksizedgoddess]

I love how easily the pathetic buggirl gives up any sense of being a person. Like she could be making her hair in the morning (she has plans!) but all that's tossed aside when some girl has morning wood and just picks up the bug without a second thought and uses her vibrating, moaning body as a vibe--an entire buggirl with plans and aspirations is just nothing but a toy, all because a girl got horny? And when you're all used up, nothing but girlcum dripping from her taint into a porcelain coffin, your thanks? you get piss and what could hardly be called a kiss blown from her pucker, discarded, just a thing meant for one morning that she'll forget by next week. How pathetic.

Anyways, come over here, toy, I'm horny and am too lazy to walk over there to pick you up. That's right, you'd march yourself over to me knowing what I'm going to do to you, you depraved, needy thing.

~🐍💜 *kiss kiss, snugglebug, hope your week gets better*

AHFHSHHSHDHSD GOSH <33333

You're so, so right~ in just a few seconds I'd give it all, every little bit of my existance up just to be a one-time use toy... something to use and forget, eagerly moaning about how little I am compared to you while you drown me out with moans- all those plans completely abandoned just to be a good toy for my superiors~

And its a fate well deserved, really... I kow exactly what'll be left of me when my owner has her fun, when all thats left is a cum and piss stained moaning mess...

I'd eagerly march towards you... blushing and stumbling into the palm of your hand, eagerly awaiting instruction- I'm not a person at all, and never have been ;3

*mwah!!! I hope you're doing well, hun <333*

[tonberry-yoda]

heya! It's 🇪🇸anon here!! Congrats on the 900 followers, you truly deserve them!!! <3

Anyways, could I by any chance participate in your event? If yes, then I'll just leave this here ^^

From my hero academia, Hawks! maybe the reader being his patrolling buddy? (it could be gender neutral or female I don't really care about that <3)

Hope you have a good day//night!! <3

Stupid Bird - Hawks

notes: OMG HI <33333 Thank you so much for the congrats, it means a lot! If not for you and your support, I really wouldn't be here, so I am super thankful that you're here and requesting!!! I hope you're doing well dear and I hope you enjoy this mini hawks fic :) sending love and hugs your way <33333

word count: 303

"Hawks, can you slow down?!" You asked, hurrying behind the winged hero.

"What?! I can't hear you all the way back there! You're gonna have to speak up!!"

"Hawks! Aren't we supposed to be working together and patrolling the city together?!"

Hawks giggled and flew back to you, bumping your arm and his together with a smile plastered on his face. "Fine, fine, I guess I'll go slow speed."

"Shut up." You smacked him on the arm with a giggle and kept you patrol going. "I can't believe that I have to patrol with you."

"What's wrong with me?!" Hawks batted his eyes at you.

You rolled your eyes and tried to walk away from him, but he caught up very easily.

"Everything's wrong with you, Hawks."

"Oh, come on!" He threw his arms in the air. "Don't be like that! Admit it, you love me." He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you subconsciously leaned into his chest. "See!! Didn't I say! You love me."

"Seriously, Hawks. Shut up. We're patrolling." You didn't move away from Hawks. I mean, you really couldn't help it. He was warm and always smelled good. Plus his wings were so soft brushing against your arm that you couldn't help but lean into him.

"What do you say after this patrolling mission, we go get lunch?"

"Sure, what do you wanna get?"

"Really?!" Hawks exclaimed, nearly flying in the air. "You really wanna get lunch with me?!"

"You're so stupid. Hurry up and answer my question before I change my mind."

"We could go get some chicken."

"I should've guessed."

"Hell yeah! I cannot wait for this mission to be over."

You just smiled and interlocked your fingers with Hawks' gloved ones. You knew you were blushing, but you couldn't help but love that stupid bird.

~~~~~

mha masterlist | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

[bombshelllblonde]

hiiihihii!! im backkkk to tell u abt my rdr playthough bc im bored asf haha

¡love this game omg!! the graphics, the story, the details UGH!!!!

hunting is actually so fun for no reason- i bought so many fancy ass guns too 😭

also my play type whenever i play ANY story game thats open world is to do every possible thing every except the actual story so i get a bunch of stuff and then its so muvh easier

in short i have 6000+ dollars 😋

bonus of exploring everything is i got thw white arabian and i love her sm ‼️‼️ i named her pearl and she is my baby

dress up is my seconf favorite hobby

my fav outfit rn is the red vest w the floral pattern on the front (i forget what its called) n the black french dress shirt underneath + the bison necklace talisman

(also arthur w medium-long length hair n short facial hair>>>)

this game is so detail oriented, its kind of insane- im doing a high honor run atm, and i came across the blind beggar for the third (?) time and the blind guy said and i quote

"that is which killing you will finally help you, friend- to hear and see."

is this foreshadowing this feels like foreshadowing

also ik arthurs dies (bc of tiktok edits and fics, they artists in this fandom is amazing!!!) and im not prepared at all 😭 im going to procrastinate so bad 

ALSO CHARLES DESERVES SO SO MUCH I LOVE HIM

yk the hole lil speech he has at the campfire yk "most human beings seem to know why they were born but, for me- its seems i was just mean ton hurt and suffer myself" that one

im bawling istg if he doesnt get a good ending im going to be writing a formal complaint to rockstar games

anyways

tw opinions (ik bro its crazy to have opinions in 2024 whattt no wayy)

ive gotten to the point in playing where im in ch 3, and the only way i can progress the actual story is to help micah rob a stagecoach or whatever

micah is a bastard and i dont like him

him as a character is rlly well written and awesome but,,,,,hes,,,slimy,,and i hate him,,,,so he can wait for a little longer ☺️

my favorite characters rn in no particular order is

arthur (obviously) , charles , sean , javier , tilly , marybeth , and kieran

my pookies ‼️‼️

moving on im so sorry this is so so long 😭 idk anyone who likes rdr irl lmao

anyway hope u have a nice day and no wolves attack you and spoke ur horse who bucks you off a cliff

(in rdr btw)

((true story also))

yo, having 6k in chapter 3 is amazing. good for you!

my first playthrough i got the white arabian and i named her Lemoyne Tree as a tribute to the state of Lemoyne and my favorite post malone song Lemon Tree. But she always got super dirty so i then went to the lake next to Strawberry and tamed the red chestnut arabian. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that one, she's gorgeous and arthur always gets that one when i play it. my beautiful baby girl Diablo <3

also yes. heckin FUCK MICAH BELL. even from the beginning he's been a slime ball. hate that man <3

i won't go too far, but just keep yourself high honor towards the end of the game. you need that to be your first ending. :')

Charles deserves the absolute world. just listening to him speak and hanging out with him at camp, and the missions you continue on to do with him throughout the game are so much fun. charles is someone i wish i could have in my real life because he seems like he would be the best person to speak to and hang out with. he is so lovely and down to earth. even arthur says it a couple times throughout the game. charles gets a good ending i promise.

my top blorbos are Arthur, Dutch, Charles, Hosea, and Josiah Trelawny my absolute beloved <33333 just wait until you go on the mission with Charles to find trelawny. one of my favorite missions ever ever ever ever!!

a lot of people dislike dutch, but i love him so much. he is my actual father. i love him.

i also hate john. let me know how you feel about that little greasy weasel of a man. :)))

i'm so so so glad you're having fun and i am very invested, so please continue to keep me updated on what ur doing because i need to live vicariously through you. if i could erase my entire mind and replay the game over and over again for the first time, i totally would

[sugar-omi]

i HAVE TO SHARE THISW SOMEONE!!! picture this . marching band cove . ghegegrgrrgrgrrbrbrbnnnn. i’m on colorguard and i think he would march mello or trumpet 🎺🎺🎺🎺🎺🎺🎺🎺🎺 EEEEE i’m sorry for gushin

omg idk anything about marching band or instruments

i literally played violin once in 3rd grade and i havent touched one since

ANYWAY YES YES YES AND ALSO YOU REMINDED ME ABT WHAT I WAS THINKING OF EARLIER (eta: okay this... became a bit more nsfw at the end than I intended but it's just implied and I can't be bothered to move this to a separate post since I'm on my phone rn but I think I need to write a full fic on this.

ANYWAY IF U WANNA SKIP THRU THIS GO AHEAD BC I RAMBLED WAY TOO MUCH N IM SORRY I TOTALLY TOOK OVER UR RAMBLE <///3 TYSM FOR GUSHING TO ME <33333 cove playong a instrument of any kind would be so asffdfhjlhq AND HE'DBE A BIT SASSY N HE JUST KNOWS HES THE SHIT... PLS...)

okay imagine band au and lets say youre the main singer, and cove is on bass/electric guitar or smth

and a lot of your songs start to become about cove. about being in love with him. about thinking about having him in your bed. about his eyes and how he makes you feel like you're drowning bc you love him so much.

and sometimes you lean into him during a song, doing a little dance step with him and the audience can see how much you yearn for each other.

OR EVEN BETTER IN MY OPINION

you are a backup singer or play an instrument as well, and cove is still on bass/electric guitar and while the main singer is doing the songs, you and cove are in the back giving heart eyes to each other and if you're not on drums or doing the keyboard (or playing any other instrument that requires sitting, idk) then you two lean into each other, maybe doing a little spin or smth and just as all over each other as you can be while performing.

and the pap have a FIELD DAY with it

so does your fans!!!!

and no matter what your position in the band is, there are thousands of photos and articles of you two leaving a restaurant together, or laughing over food and drink from thru the windows

or they see you wearing cove's jacket or shirt...

cove leaving your house early in the morning, or in interviews you two are giving heart eyes and even better if one or both of you is giving bedroom eyes to the other (they love asking if you two are dating or fucking)

if you don't mind having a laugh over confusing the paparazzi and even do it yourself. cove will shrug or smirk and go "wouldn't you like to know." and he'll put a arm around you and lead you away from all the reporters.

(implied sex under the cut👍👍👍👍🫶)

imagine getting drunk and kissing each other. you're so lost in the music blasting in the club and the taste of each others lips, and when cove's tongue slips into your mouth you can't even think abt if there's the flash of cameras because the flashing club lights help add to your daze when cove pulls away, grinning about how much he loves you and when you say you love him too, you find yourself in your managers car.

they're complaining about how much you've drank, but they drop you off at cove's house and speed off so they can go pick up the rest of your members, hoping they haven't gotten as drunk as you two in the time they've been gone.

you don't pay attention to any of it, walking on shaky feet to cove's front door and he's more busy kissing your neck than finding his keys so you push him up against the door and take his keys from his back pocket, stumbling through the door when you finally get it open with much struggle.

and you crash onto his bed, cove grinning drunkily up at you, his big hands felt like they were burning your skin and it's all such a blur of lips, tongue, loud moaning, and "I love you"'s

when you wake up its because of your manager blowing up your phones, and when cove fumbles for your phone that's ringing on the floor beside the bed, he answers w a groggy "hello..?"

(it makes your manager madder but you don't know that)

he puts it on speaker, just letting them yell about the pictures the pap published from last night.. and like the assholes yall are you go to the camera app, settling yourself in cove's lap and he pulls the sheets up to cove your lower halves, the sheet caught between his arm and your exposed (and thoroughly marked) back, cove giving the camera a hooded look as he hides his smile in your shoulder..

your manager starts yapping about something, you weren't paying attention, trying to shush each others giggles as you move around to take another picture, this time with your hands tangled in cove's hair and giving him a kiss (if you can even call it that since you're both smiling too much)

and as your manager finally stops ranting...

"you might wanna check my insta." and you hang up before they can start yelling again <3

[zoppzoop]

HI mutual wellness check and monthly sending good wishes to ur voodoo doll i keep under my pillow so that u have that 'nazar na lage' rizz hello lish hope ur days are as lovely and vivacious as ur art, as colorful and vibrant and shiny w the added dose of best bcs u deserve here on the monthly council we hope things r good and if not r abt to be, pls take care of urself, eat well sleep good and have a wonderful next one!!!! (solar)

SOLARRR!! <333333333 absolutely adore the 'nazar na lage' rizz <3333333333 giving you a billion hugs and kisses <333333 things had been a little bit turbulent but it was all mostly on twt and tbh that place is a cesspool anyways (i deleted it from my phone idk why i even had it in the first place skdfjsl) BUT other than that everything is amazing!!! we moved to a new place and are unpacking this week and then iske baad im gonna be travelling to do some academics related stuff and after that im gonna have like a few days of more travel to get to uni >:3 sleep and food have been great since the unpacking and physical exertion makes me more hungry and eepy fjkdsg but yeah!! overall everythings amazing!! ^^

i hope youve been keeping well too!! hope you're eating and sleeping well and drinking lots of water and hope that you're doing well health-wise and mentally as well <333333 love you lots!!!! <33333