#i mean at least until afterwards then i do a lot of that but still

[obitos-whore]

Hii!! can you do some n(sfw) headcanons for our boy obito🩷🙏

Your wish is my command, nonnie. I hope you like 'em <3

18+ Minors, do not interact

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SFW

Obito is fiercely protective of his partner and would let the whole world burn and turn to ash for the sake of his darling's safety and comfort

Can't keep his hands off you for too long and will always seek out even the tiniest bit of physical contact

Despite his rather rugged/intimidating appearance, he is a total sweetheart for you and a hopeless romantic too

He is not afraid of showing his love and devotion through gifts or all sorts of favours, no matter how big or small they are. And if someone pokes fun at him for being "soft", "mushy" or, Jashin forbid, "a total simp", he will just get snarky with them and very crudely remind them of the fact that he is at least loved by someone

Before he asked you out, Obito always behaved a bit awkward around you to try and get your attention. He would brag about this super-duper, top secret and incredibly hard to master jutsu he was currently learning. Or he would try to show off his strength and skills in hand-to-hand combat with Kakashi (who was dragged into this whole stuff against his will)

Other things he did include: Sneaking glances at you and smiling subconsciously whenever you weren't looking. (Or he at least thought you weren't paying attention.). Always offering to help you with things, such as your studies or carrying your groceries home for you. Bringing you little trinkets from his missions he thought you might like or that reminded him of you. Paying very close attention to things you did/ate/say and taking mental notes of every. single. thing that could help him with courting you

During the first two to three months of your relationship, Obito was still very shy and hesitant to go further than holding hands and kissing/cuddling

Full on make-out sessions, with some groping here and there, were the spiciest he was willing to do. But even then, he always asked if you were comfortable with it, if he was too rough, etc.

It wasn't until you two had your first time together that he discovered the joys of sex and the seemingly endless opportunities to enjoy each other, whether by doing it in different positions, using toys or even roleplaying (A different turning point for the one-eyed Uchiha if you will)

King of aftercare. He will shower you with praises and lots of kisses and cuddles after every session, no matter if it was vanilla or not. Makes sure you're properly hydrated and fed, as well as thoroughly cleaned before and especially afterwards

NSFW

As a busy shinobi, he often has to ignore his needs for the sake of his missions. Which often leads to a lot of pent up sexual frustration. And when I say "a lot", I mean a lot!

He will take you every opportunity he gets and he won't necessarily be gentle either. At least not always

Sometimes he just needs to fuck. Screw the whole "sweet and passionate lovemaking" shit he's usually up for. There is nothing sweet or tender about the way he'll be ravaging you

Will hiss the dirtiest things in your ear while he ruts into you like a man possessed. His hands all over you, gripping your throat, tugging at your hair, spanking you or pinning your arms above your head so tightly, you'll be wearing the imprints of his fingers around your wrists for days

He does not limit himself to your bedroom. Every place with a surface to bend you over at or push you against will make do

Will make you suck him off while he goes over important documents or writes a report, and stroke your head every now and then and call you all sorts of pet names, such as "Love", "Sweetheart" or "Baby"

But on days where he feels very dominant, his nicknames will be less adoring and a bit more degrading. Something along the lines of "Pet" or "Plaything"

On those days, he also makes you call him "Sir", "Hokage-sama", or basically anything that suggests that he's the one in control

If he's away on a mission and his need for you gets too unbearable, Obito will either wait until it's late at night, or excuse himself for a couple of minutes, and straight up Kamui back home and drain his balls into you in a messy quickie

He's a total switch who enjoys receiving as much as he enjoys giving and trusts his partner completely when it comes to using toys on him

A sucker for getting praised. Just tell him he's being such a good boy while pleasuring you and watch him become putty in your hands and redouble his efforts just to hear you say that again

He is very open to trying new things with you, but he does not share his darling with anyone! No matter if it's a man/woman or someone who doesn't identify as either of those. You are his. His dick is the only thing that you need and get (with the exception of toys ofc) and he will make sure you'll remember that

Big fan of both orgasm denial and post orgasm torture. Hearing you whimper and plead him to let you cum/stop making you cum over and over again as you writhe below him is like music to his ears

[feralattentionwhore]

They really should drug me because I'm their property and I don't get to choose what goes on. Things just happen and I have to be a good girl and take it.

Just hand me something to eat or drink randomly without any instructions other than to be obedient and take it. Not knowing what's happening but doing what I'm told, obviously

Why should a toy have any options to begin with anyway?

[byoldervine]

Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

[suguann]

an. another ex-husband gojo fic because i'll die with this trope. this ends exactly how you'd expect (if you know me)

Satoru doesn’t take it well when you tell him you have a boyfriend after bumping into him in the grocery store parking lot. At least, you don’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, his expression inscrutable as ever behind his dark sunglasses—the sharp arch of his brow the only indication he’s heard you at all.

“Is that so?” he finally says, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. Has you grasping at straws to make something right that isn’t even wrong yet. Has any thought of this being an easy conversation shattered at your feet.

You clear your throat. “Yeah…he’s nice. You might even like him.” 

No, he wouldn’t—a little voice in the back of your head tells you. Knowing it's because all of the unreadable parts of you are no longer connected to him, but instead to a man you've barely spent two months dating, and that must infuriate him.

He doesn’t ask (not that you expect him to) when you find yourself prattling on about how you met Rin through a friend, how he’s an investment banker and takes you out to his cabin on the weekends, that he’s predictable—stable is what you really mean, but don't say—with an ordinary life who wants kids—

Satoru seems to chew on that last bit of information like he’s suddenly tasted something unpleasant, the line of his brow flat and unimpressed, the slant in his mouth mutinous. He’s uttered all but three words, and so far, this entire conversation leaves you with nothing short of a stomach ache.

“He really is a good person,” you add, just because you have nothing else to say and your penchant for filling awkward, empty spaces.

Then he smiles, and you relax a little. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

You smile, too, a soft, sure thing this time that makes his widen.

But if you'd been more level-headed and less flustered about bumping into your ex-husband after several months of silence—since he signed his name beside yours in front of your lawyer—you’d realize how dangerous that smile is.

You’re unsure if it’s too contingent to be considered a coincidence, but he starts showing up in odd places after that all-too-uncomfortable one-sided conversation in the parking lot.

First, it’s at your favorite coffee shop you usually stop at on your way to work. It’s strange because you remember him hating coffee, how he'd always preferred to load it with creamer and sweetener just to get rid of the bitter taste. But you don’t mention it when he offers—no, insists on paying for your coffee and blueberry streusel muffin.

When the total pops up on the register, he doesn’t even blink when he opens his wallet.

Of course, you can't let him pay. There must be something in writing somewhere that says ex-husbands shouldn't pay for their recently divorced ex-wife's coffee.

He shrugs, smiling, after you tell him it’s expensive—has that ever bothered me?—and slides a shiny black card across the counter to the barista.

“You can't show up out of nowhere and start buying me things,” you hiss afterward, slightly flustered by the whole ordeal. The city’s big, but you still worry about one of your friends or colleagues seeing you with Satoru—they may get the wrong idea. “We’re not together anymore.”

"Do I have to message you the next time I want to get you coffee?" he tucks his hands into his coat.

"No, we shouldn't even be getting coffee together."

“Am I not allowed to be nice now that you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I said,” you huff. “And you didn’t even buy yourself anything. How am I supposed to look at it?”

He shrugs, “I decided I didn’t want anything,” and you don't even think he notices that he holds your hand when you go to cross the street.

Habit. You'll write that one off as a habit, but he doesn't let go until you're in front of the tall, shiny doors of your office building.

The second time he shows up unannounced is while you're walking through the quaint park near your apartment, which you know is far from his sleek penthouse on 5th Avenue, the one with a perfect view of the city and the bay—a thirty-minute drive, at least.

“I bought a house out here,” he tells you when you ask. “It’s up on the hill.”

You know which one he’s talking about. You’ve driven past it a few times. It's a cozy brick stone with lots of windows, a white picket fence, and a large backyard, something you’ve always wanted since before you were married. According to a real estate website, his house is a little over a million. 

Interest must be written all over your face because he asks: “You want to see it?”

There are a number of reasons why you shouldn’t say yes, why you should politely decline and finish your last lap along the trail and run to the grocery store afterward to pick up something for dinner and call Rin to let him hear about your day—

“Okay,” you say, hands on your hips. “But make it quick.”

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling at the corners with something akin to affection. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to remind him, again, that you’re not together, so he’s not allowed to use pet names, but a large hand on the small of your back to usher you towards the shiny, sleek SUV across the street leaves you with a mouth full of cotton.

He watches you take in the hardwood floors and tall ceilings trimmed with crown molding. When you stop in the massive kitchen to run your fingers over the granite countertops, it almost feels bittersweet walking through the house of your dreams while your ex-husband eyes you questioningly as if he's looking for your approval.

“So? What do you think?”

The smile you give him is genuine. “It’s beautiful.”

Satoru matches your smile with a bigger one, almost blinding. “That’s good, that’s really good.”

You feel like you should ask why he bought a house this big in the first place, but there’s a pebble in your stomach if you think about family photos on the walls with him happy and smiling, his arm around a pretty wife who wears frilly aprons and kisses him on the cheek when he comes home. A future where you don’t exist, yet he’s letting you take a peak into it, anyway.

So you don’t say anything.

You meant to leave an hour ago, but he plied you with dinner— friends can have dinner together, can’t they? —which leads to two glasses of wine and then watching movies together on his very soft couch. If everything didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, you probably would have noticed the signs sooner, that he’s trying to—

(He presses you into the couch cushions, biting marks into your neck and chest until your breaths come out fast and high-pitched.

“We shouldn’t,” you manage to say, still tipsy and tongue heavy in your mouth from the wine you had. "Toru, I should really go."

He huffs a laugh against your cheek—you note how he still wears the same cologne you bought him all those years ago when everything was so new, and there wasn't a ring on your finger yet—pressing a messy kiss there that makes you squirm. “Doesn’t this remind you of old times, though?”

“B-but I have a boyfriend.”

In retaliation, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh around the fluttering pulse in your neck, just shy of too rough, though your fingers in his hair pull him into you like you can’t get enough.)

That maybe this means he—

(Satoru bunches the lace of your panties in his fist, shoving them up around your knees, trapping your legs together against your chest. A long, drawn-out groan rumbles in his chest at discovering the creamy mess between your thighs. “Always had such a pretty wet pussy, fuck. Do you get this wet for him, too?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs because he hears what you don’t say: No, you’ve never been this turned on when it’s with Rin. Satoru’s the only one to ever leave you wet and shaky just from a few words.)

It’s an insane thought, but it’s almost like Satoru—

(He holds his hand up to your mouth, telling you to lick before he wraps it around his cock, pressing the tip into the slick seam of your cunt. And you forgot how big he is, just on the side of too much, the bit of effort it takes for him to sink in a little, and then all at once, rending you right down the middle.

You whimper, fingers scrabbling clumsily for one of the throw pillows near your head, needing something to hold on to.

“There you go, pretty girl,” Gojo breathes, hips tight and close, grinding into you so that you can feel how deep he is. “I see she can still take it.”)

No, he wouldn’t—

(He fucks you hard enough to send you skittering up the couch, only to pull you back down again, grinding you on his cock to touch places inside you that he’s only ever managed to reach. You whine into where your face is pressed against the back cushions, biting down to muffle how loud you’re being.

He makes a displeased sound and forces you to look at him again with his fingers digging into your cheeks.

"What if I give you a little baby, huh? We'll be a family together. You, me, and our baby in this big house. Doesn't that sound nice? We'll fill the house with babies," he mutters, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, forcing your legs further against your chest.

The angle rubs just right inside you. You make an unintelligible noise at the back of your throat, unable to move or get better friction in this position.

“We did it your way last time, didn’t we, baby?” his little laugh is breathless, kind of mean. “I let you leave with all those silly thoughts in your head; thought you knew what you wanted, but now we’re going to do it my way from now on.”

His words should strike alarm bells, but when he fits his hand between your bodies to strum his thumb against your clit, your mind empties.

"You've always been mine." Words barely audible, he still sounds breathless; wrecked. "It's about time you get that through your head.")

Except you know he would. 

A month later, you’re packing away the fine china in your apartment, wondering how the few things you own will fill a house so large.

[xxchumanixx]

Okay, Tim Bradford x reader, but the reader is a police captain and becomes the captain of the mid-wilshire division after Zoë and that one dude. They are married, and the reader is expecting?

It's Captain, baby

Tim Bradford x wife!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being a little grumpy Word count: 879 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you like it. It was very fun to write and I really like the idea!

Enjoy!

It was meant as a surprise - really.

He knew you wanted to become a captain one day, so when the LAPD asked if you wanted to become the captain of mid wilshire, you instantly said yes.

That you'd be the captain of your own husband, slipped your mind in said moment, though.

You decided not to tell him 'for now', pushing the matter further and further away, until there was no further anymore - until the day you were supposed to start as captain.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea, risking that he'd have a heart attack or get mad, when he saw you - especially considering that you were six months pregnant, and your new position meant stress and pressure - something you weren't supposed to have until in at least about three months, when you were in labor.

Biting your lip and rocking on your heels, you nervously waited for Sergeant Grey to announce you.

The moment he'd say your name, Tim would find out - and he wouldn't like that you refrained from telling him beforehand.

But he was a professional - he wouldn't let you see any emotion on his face during roll call - no, he would tell you how he felt in detail afterwards, giving you an even more guilty conscience.

"And now, I'm happy to introduce our new captain: Y/N Bradford! Please give her a warm welcome." Grey announced, causing your heart to miss a beat, as your hands doubled their sweating.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the room, trying to avoid Tim's face - which, despite your supposition, showed the slightest bit of shock and anger - as you made your way to the pult.

Forcing yourself to smile at the numerous people applauding you, you braced yourself for the speech you had prepared.

"Hello, for those who don't know me yet, my name's Y/N Bradford - yes, I'm sergeant Bradford's wife, and yes, I am pregnant." you started nervously.

A fit of quiet laughter echoed through the crowd, lifting some of the weight off your shoulders.

"I'm proud to call myself captain of the mid Wilshire department." you continued, nodding slightly. "I started here as a rookie, thinking that I knew everything and could do everything. But I didn't - which is an important thing to realize. We're all here for one goal: the safety of our city."

Your eyes briefly found Tim's, his jaw clenched. He looked straight back at you, not even blinking.

"But that means, that we have to learn a lot, especially about ourselves. I know how hard you work for this goal, and I know what it takes to do so. I once was where you are now, and I will have your backs, no matter what. If there's something you wanna talk about - let me know. I'm here to support you, and it's an honor to be your captain. That's it."

They applauded again, causing your cheeks to turn pinkish. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, hands trembling a little, as you smiled at them.

They were your people now, they counted on you, and you'd do everything in your power, to never let them down.

When the room cleared, Tim was the only one still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest.

He was clearly angry.

Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to him, preparing yourself for his speech.

He stayed silent for a couple more moments, just staring at you, before he stood, hands on the table as he leaned towards you.

"Did you even plan to tell me at all?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed. It took all his might not to get too loud, trying to look calmer than he was as well.

His colleagues didn't need to know that he was angry - fuming even.

"Did you think about our baby? What if it's too dangerous - not to mention the stress! Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"

"I did want to tell you." you stated, biting your lip. "But I didn't know how to. I wanted to surprise you, but I pushed it further and further away. I thought it all through, and I'm gonna take it slow - no harm for the baby. Imagine my surprise when they asked me to become their captain - me of all people!"

He bit his lip as well, the corners of his mouth twitching treacherously. At least he wouldn't stay angry at you for long.

"Are you happy?" he wanted to know, glancing at your belly. It was getting harder each day to find something that covered it up at least a little.

Nodding, you pressed out a dry laugh. "I am, but I'm scared as shit." you admitted, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen.

"I mean, I wanted to become a captain for so long, but - how to captain? How does this work? It's like my mind suddenly just went blank."

He chuckled, keeping himself from kissing you in front of the curious eyes watching you - didn't they have any work to do?

"I'm glad you like it, baby." he said honestly, his lips wide in a proud smile, as you huffed, cocking a brow.

"It's Captain, baby."

[loulovingho]

Part 2 of my injured Tommy fic.

Tommy watched the clock with distain in his eyes. Every second that ticked by felt like it was mocking him.

Just another second since he left you. Another second since you drove him away. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He hated that stupid clock.

He also hated that his and Evan's bed was in the living room, and their hallway was covered in plastic sheets for the remodel, and that all their cabinets and countertops had to be lowered, and that he still had to have help when he took a shower or took a shi-

“Knock knock!” Eddie's voice interrupted Tommy's thoughts. Probably a good thing, he figured. He was very close to throwing his stress ball directly at the clock and, hopefully, shattering it to pieces.

“In here,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes afterward. Because of course that's where he was. He was never not in the living room these days.

“I brought new movies and...” his voice drifted as soon as he got a good look at Tommy. “What's wrong?”

Tommy sighed. “Please. It's not like Evan didn't send you.”

“Buck didn't send me. Why would Buck be sending me?”

“Because we fought.”

“Really?” Eddie asked, and if he was faking surprise, he was doing a really good job. “What about?”

“He's...” Tommy huffed. “He's trying to help me all the time and there's some things I wanna do on my own. Too much hovering.”

“S'normal,” Eddie replied. He headed over to the couch to sit.

Tommy turned in the chair to get himself into position to transfer. “Can you pull my arm up a little so I can get on the couch?”

Eddie leaned back, staring at Tommy. “You got it.”

“I don't really ever do transfers by myself, Eddie.”

“Good time to start. Come on,” he patted the couch, “this is way more comfy than the chair.”

“Eddie, I-” he gripped onto the armrests just enough to make himself squirm. “I'm really tired and I'd rather you just help me.”

“Mm. No.”

“No?” Tommy questioned.

Eddie nodded. “Consider it tough love. I know you're not tired, Man. You've got a look on your face that says you're ready for about four or five rounds of Muay Thai. Use up some of that energy to get yourself on the damn couch.”

Tommy wanted to scream. Forget the clock, he wanted to throw the stress ball right at Eddie's head.

He squeezed it harder instead, his nails digging into the ball. “Can you at least not look at me while I do it?” he asked, teeth gritted together.

“What's that matter? I've helped you shower.”

He glared up at Eddie, his cheeks turning red. “You're really pissing me off, Man.”

“I can see that.”

“Can't you leave me the hell alone?!” Tommy yelled. “Go screw up your own life again or something!”

Eddie didn't waver. Face didn't falter for a second. “The great part about us being friends,” he said, leaning toward Tommy ever so slightly, “is that you can't hurt my feelings the same way you can hurt Buck's. You can either stay a grump in that uncomfortable chair, or be a grump on this very comfy couch.”

Tommy huffed and puffed and was fairly sure if humans could breathe fire than there would definitely be some coming out of his nose. He angrily pulled the brakes on his chair, then used all the upper body strength he had to push himself up and onto the couch. It took awhile. A lot longer than he'd like to admit, actually, but eventually he was seated on the couch. He tugged on his sweatpants, straightening out his legs until his feet were flat against the floor. Then he leaned forward and released one of the brakes so he could swivel the chair off to the side.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie cheered, reaching over to smack his hand against Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy would've liked to still be angry with him, but he was too busy gasping for breath. He was also actually a little proud of himself too. “Sorry,” he muttered once he was able to speak again. “I didn't mean what I said. I'm just being an ass today.”

“No problem, Dude. So, why don't you tell me the real reason you fought with Buck?”

“I already did.”

“Please, that was total bull and we both know it. You fought because Buck's trying to help and you don't want it, yet you wanted me to help you? Plus, Buck's been hovering for two months now and you've never said a word even though you can do half this stuff by yourself. Transferring was one of the first things they taught you in the hospital. Real reason.” Eddie snapped his fingers near Tommy's face. “Go.”

“It's stupid.”

“Of course it is. Tell me anyway.”

Tommy ran his hand over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had settled there. “I...” his voice trailed off as he thought about how to say what he'd been thinking. “I feel like he's settling for me now.”

“Buck?” Eddie questioned. “You feel like he's settling?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so dumber than I thought.”

“Eddie.”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Why would you ever think that?”

“Eddie, the guy he fell in love with was a firefighter pilot. Someone who flew through hurricanes and landed helicopters on capsized cruise ships. Not... this,” he said, motioning down at his lower half. “I don't even know what this is anymore.”

“Hm.” Eddie nodded his head, thinking for a moment before responding. “Gotta say, if that's how you feel about Buck, then I'm not sure you know him at all.”

Tommy ran a hand over his eyes, trying to stop them from burning. “That's the stupid part, Eddie, I don't feel that way about Buck. I feel that way about me. I know how irrational it is and I know he still loves me, but there's this voice in the back of my mind that always starts running its mouth.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I've got one of those too. Sounds like my mother.”

“I think mine's my dad. And me a little bit too.”

“What's the voice say?”

“A lot of things. Mostly, it makes me feel useless. I've always had a plan, Eddie, ever since I was a kid. There was school, and football, and knowing that the second I was old enough I'd do whatever I had to do to get out of my dad's house. Then I had the army, and flying, and after that I went right into being a firefighter. I did that for so long before transferring to Harbor and flying again, but I always had a plan. I was always somebody. I was something. Now I...” he sighed. “I don't know who or what I am. I don't know what to do with my life. And Evan didn't fall in love with that guy. He fell in love with cool, confident Tommy. Which makes me feel like he's settling now, because he could be doing anything.”

His eyes burned. He kept wiping at them, trying to catch each tear before they could fall. “He should be doing anything,” he said, lip trembling. “He's young, and smart, and so damn handsome. He should be living his life, Eddie, not working part time so he can be home with me.” He gave up on the tears, sniffling as they started to fall. “He spends every waking moment either working or taking care of me, and it's not fair to him. It's not.”

Eddie waited. Waited until Tommy's breathing returned to normal and the tears calmed before hitting him with a, “You know you're never gonna walk again, right?”

Tommy looked like all the air had been sucked out of the room. His eyes widened comically as he stared at Eddie, shocked. “I- I'm aware. Thanks?”

Eddie shrugged. “I'm just saying, this all happened like two months ago. That's it. Two months, Tommy. You don't have to have everything figured out yet. Hell, you've got a lot more figured out right now than I do at any given moment.”

“Doesn't feel that way. Feels like everything's a mess, and I'm a burden. We're having to use all my savings for the renovations, and Buck's taking care of all the bills while only working part time, and paying Carla to take care of me when he's working. Then he's coming home to do PT with me and cook for me and help me use the damn bathroom.” His voice cracked again at the last admission, but he cleared his throat and continued. “God, Eddie, he was so upset but he still asked if I needed to use the bathroom before he left.”

“So that's what it was all really about then?” Eddie asked. “You were just trying to push him away?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think so. And I know this part isn't forever. I'll figure out the cooking once the kitchen is done, I'll learn new ways to exercise, we'll have an actual bedroom again, I'll be able to transfer to the toilet and into the shower. It's not that I mind the help, because you're right, I love the fact he takes care of me. I just hate that he has to. I don't want to hold him back. Don't want him to have regrets.”

“Man, your brain really is working overtime,” Eddie said, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “It's wrong, by the way, your brain I mean. Buck's obsessed with you still. Like, obnoxiously so. He's always looking at the clock, waiting to get home to you. He tries out PT exercises on us, researches meals that'll give you enough protein to keep up your upper body strength. Won't shut up about you on calls.” He laughed when he saw a smile playing on Tommy's face. “Seriously, last week we had this woman on a stretcher who happened to have a husband named Tommy, and Buck just lights up. Starts going on and on about how he has a fiancé named Tommy who has taught him all about monster trucks, and shown him all these movies, and is the coolest, and sweetest, and hottest, man he's ever met. No joke, Tommy, the woman asked if we could give her a sedative so she wouldn't have to listen anymore.”

Tommy laughed at that, some of the stress visibly leaving his body. “If you ask Carla, she'd say the same thing,” he admitted. “Evan's all I talk about, all day long. I know it has to drive her nuts.”

“You two love birds are meant for each other, whether your dad in your head likes it or not. And if you really think Buck's gonna leave you because of one stupid fight... you're dumber than I thought.”

“He's right.” The sound of Buck's voice made both Eddie and Tommy turn toward the living room entryway. “I mean, not about the dumb part. But, thinking I'll leave you.”

“I- I didn't hear you get home,” Tommy said nervously. He eyed Buck up and down, like he was expecting him to have physically changed in the last two hours.

“I was quiet, I guess.” He glanced at the wheelchair, then at Tommy on the couch. “You transferred.” It wasn't a question.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I did. Took a hot minute, but I did it.”

“Did Eddie harass you into it?”

Tommy smiled softly. “It's a very effective method, apparently.”

“I'll have to stick around next time,” Buck replied, smiling back, “and take notes.”

Eddie's eyes shifted between the two of them, noticing that they couldn't seem to stop staring at each other.

“I think my work here is done,” he said, getting up and giving Tommy a pat on the leg. “See ya, Man.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Bye, Eddie.”

He squeezed Buck's shoulder as he passed by. “See you tomorrow.”

Buck smiled at him. “See ya.”

They stayed silent until the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.

“I'm so sorry I snapped at you.” Tommy inwardly cursed at the fact he couldn't seem to stop himself from getting emotional anymore.

“I'm sorry I hovered.”

“That's not... Evan, that's not why I really got upset.”

“Yeah, I figured. I've been here for a while, actually, I just... I haven't heard you open up like that since the accident.”

“Can you come here?” Tommy asked, patting his lap. As Buck walked over, Tommy held out his hand. Buck took it as he sat beside him on the couch, gently resting his legs over Tommy's. “I don't want you thinking I'm not thankful for everything you've done. I am endlessly grateful, Evan.”

“I don't want you thinking you're not enough for me.” Tommy looked down as Buck spoke, until Buck hooked two fingers under Tommy's chin and tilted his head up so their eyes met. “My love for you has never been based on your job, or what you're capable of. I love you. I love your personality, and your smile, and how you care about people, and how you always seem to know when I'm not okay, and how you listen. All of it. You still have everything that makes you you, Tommy. Everything I love is still right here,” he said, placing a hand over Tommy's heart.

Tommy reached up and placed his hand over Buck's. “We were supposed to get married today,” he said, his lip trembling.

Buck nodded, tears in his eyes. “I know.”

“Would you... Would you still want to?”

Buck froze. “Are- Are you serious?”

Tommy nodded. “I still want a real wedding, sometime soon. But, I really just wanna be married to you.”

“Eddie probably hasn't gotten too far yet,” Buck said, practically jumping up to pull his phone out of his pocket. “He could come back; be our witness?”

“Good idea. I'll get back in my chair so I'm ready when he gets here.”

“Need any help?” Buck asked, phone to his ear as he waited for Eddie to pick up.

“That's okay,” Tommy answered with a smile. “I got it.”

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez and their wordless "I love you"s

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, comfort ✧ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

makes time for you

of course, everyone saw it coming - he's living a busy life and no matter how tight his schedule gets, he'll make time to meet you or to at least talk to you on the phone in between

but that's not everything

he'll also take care of you (or try his best to)

we all know he's clumsy, but he still wants to do things for you, you know?

whether that's talking you through a rough period in your life or just offering an open ear and a shoulder for you to lean on

or if it's him actually trying to make something for you!!

without realizing he'll be picking up a new skill as he's making you some accessory he thinks you'll like or maybe he'll even be brave enough to try baking you a cake

even if he doesn't succeed, he knows he can always try again together with you, but even then he won't be able to focus on the task at hand because of how lost he gets in the image of you

Seonghwa:

takes care of you

in every way - but especially in an acts of service kinda way

will definitely nag you a bit if you're the type to be unorganized and chaotic, because he knows neat surroundings simply make you feel better than clutter everywhere!

reminds you to eat three meals a day, to get enough sleep, etcetc, and yes it gets annoying at times

but he also understands that maybe it's hard for you to stay organized, or maybe you're going through a stressful time in your life where you're too busy to prepare yourself proper meals every day

then he will simply do those tasks for you, and never ask for anything in return

your health and wellbeing are the most important things to him, so he will support you in upkeeping them in whatever way he can!

Yunho:

cheers for you, no matter what

we all know he's the one who does the most to keep a positive energy and to cheer the people around him up

and he'll do the same for you

no matter if you have an important exam coming up, and important interview, or if it's just another day - he'll always be there to have your back and to wish you good luck

you know that no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, you can always tell him about even the tiniest worries you have and he'll take you seriously, calming you down and motivating you at the same time

he's also very social, but another thing that will both make him feel loved and be a way to convey to you how comfortable he is with you is to just sit together in silence

each doing their own thing while still being together so you won't ever feel lonely is another way for him to silently tell you he loves you

Yeosang:

learns about you

and I mean not just a few obvious details

I'm talking everything - he picks up on even the smalles of your habits or preferences that even your close friends don't know about

he's very observant and even more so when he loves someone

gives you small gifts that really aren't a big deal for him, but it might just bring you to tears from how thoughtful they are

it takes him a while to warm up to people and to develop trust, so it will also take him a long time to come to properly love you

but in those moments where he realizes just how safe you make him feel, it's like his emotions overwhelm him

might manage to hold back just until after he asks you whether he can kiss you

but as soon as his arms are wrapped around you and his lips brush against yours, he'll sweep you off your feet from how many feelings he pours into just that one kiss

blushes a lot afterwards, and needs you to not let go of his hands to feel reassured that what he's doing is just right

San:

tells you synonyms of "I love you"

tells you that he appreciates you, that he's thankful to you, tells you you have a beautiful heart

of course he's also one who's big on physical affection, but in moments where he realizes once again just how much he loves you, he knows no words and no gesture in the world would be enough to convey his feelings to you

so he makes it a habit to tell you what he feels frequently

tells you you have a pretty smile when he catches you grinning by yourself, or that he admires how diligent you are when you're working on something late at night

it always comes as a surprise when he does this, but this makes it feel just that much more sincere

Mingi:

gives you a space to be sad

no matter how many good times you two have, nothing screams "I love you" quite as much to him as sitting together in silence and giving you a place to go through a hard time safely

will offer you advice or his perspective on things if you want him to, and he will certainly remind you to slow down a bit time and time again

he's actually very good at sensing when you're having a hard time, even when you do everything in your might to hide it

will be the anchor that grounds you at times like those

but even when times aren't as dire, he's like an open book when it comes to showing that he loves you

the way he looks at you alone gives it away, the way he plays with your fingers when he holds your hand or the way he melts against your touch with every single embrace you share

Wooyoung:

gets protective

he just can't help it okay?

he knows you're an adult and you don't need him to guard you 24/7, but even just not having his arm around you at all times feels off to him

he wants to be there for you at all times - the type to pick up his phone if you call him at 3 in the morning because you have trouble sleeping and you feel like it'd help you to hear his voice

might go a bit overboard at times, it does happen that his urge to protect you and to motivate you to become a better version of yourself ends in a fight

but even then he'll realize rather quickly that he went too far and ought to apologize

your nr 1 hype man, but at the end of the day you know you have a safe place to rest in his arms, and that he'll always accept you exactly as you are

Jongho:

listens

even if you've been complaining about the same thing for weeks, he won't get tired of lending you an open ear and he won't tell you off for it

he knows that sometimes you need to think about the same thing a hundred times until you find a solution for it, and if voicing your thoughts helps he'll be more than happy to listen

sits with you even through the most uncomfortable of feelings and will make sure you know he's not leaving your side even when things get difficult

but he'll also show you his playful side

him joking around with you just really shows how comfortable he is being around you, and you can be sure that your bickering will always end with bright smiles on your faces and sweet kisses as he realizes just how grateful he is to have you in his life

[hana-no-seiiki]

This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing

Anyways

Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader

Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)

Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge

Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets

~ 🕒

I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.

btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.

The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.

I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.

THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC

“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”

“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”

You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.

You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.

One of those losers was Tim’s friend.

Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.

To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.

And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.

Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.

He apparently didn’t.

You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.

The second? Fixing them.

When Tim first approached you he was confused.

You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.

But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.

The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.

Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.

And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.

He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.

Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.

Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!

And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.

Wait, a r*pist?

Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.

And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.

Fuck.

Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.

Meanwhile…

“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.

“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.

You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”

Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.

Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.

[seelestia]

in lieu of the boop fest: genshin men as boopers.

⎯ something made on a whim to commemorate the lovely booping chaos going on. may not be accurate but i tried!!! 🙏 which one are you?? tag yourself /j this is the silliest thing ever, forgive me. fluff & crack (and made with love).

the harbinger of dedication (???): boop them once and oh, it's on. boops you back and will not stop booping you back — it's an all-out war! or at least, to them. they take this whole matter as an opportunity and certainly don't mind tiring their fingers out just tapping the button on repeat. does it for the fun and to get a reaction out of you. also, probably eats (sends) super boops for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it's their bread and butter.

childe (of course), arataki itto, cyno (has a desire to max out his boop-o-meter till the end - a completionist's habit).

the menace (as simple as that): they have no need to be booped because they're the one booping you first and a lot at that too. oh, you got 99+ notifs? yeah, that's an act of love and it's from them. they hoped you liked the gift because they had fun giving it. grab a handkerchief because you're gonna have to scrub that smirk off their face, literally.

wriothesley, kaeya, shikanoin heizou, lyney (he apologizes by treating you to a meal afterwards).

confusion (awkward ver.): ...what. what is this? what does 'boop' even mean? why does it sound so oddly menacing when uttered out loud? and why are you smiling at like that? it's a trend, you explain and they — reluctantly and nervously — send a boop back. they have no idea what they're doing but at least, seeing that proud look on your face amounts to something. maybe, they did well? they then proceed to send you another one just for good measure. how cute.

xiao, gorou.

confusion (boomer ver.): their first thought was that they're getting hacked by a... feline virus? how interesting (please explain). with some explanation from you, they'll eventually understand the concept! a passive booper at best, but has a proclivity to treat boops as a “i'm thinking about you” button. so just know one boop equals to one time you crossed their mind.

zhongli, neuvillette, dainsleif (still confused at the end of it), diluc (secretly because he has pride).

the 'humble' reciprocator (dark horse?): all is in perfect tandem. you give one boop, they give one back. you give two boops, they give two back. you squint your eyes at them from across the room suspiciously, they chuckle into their hand in response. is that an act of mischief or demureness? you wonder what will happen if you boop them one hundred times? well, let's find out. (they will give back the exact amount, no matter what.)

kaedehara kazuha, baizhu, kamisato ayato (a true hybrid between being humble and a menace, he is. starts off nice until he spams boops when you least expect it... with a smile, of course!).

the bystander with the popcorn: thanks for the boop, you get one back. yes, only one, sorry. they'd rather not participate in the chaos and prefer to keep their inbox clean. no offense meant, you're free to have your fun so go ahead. they're just here to observe because in their humblest opinion, it serves them well enough as participating does. oh, don't look at them like that. you did get one back, didn't you? rejoice in the fact that you're one of the few — if not, the only one — they gave a boop to. treat it as an approval badge. it means you're special (to them).

alhaitham, tighnari, albedo, wanderer (he thinks he's above this childish and pointless act of booping... or is he?).

the victim™: is getting booped left and right without rest. suffocating and drowning in them even. lady luck is not on their side; they swore they booped everyone back to infinity and beyond — surely, it's all repaid and they can take a break now, right? wrong. they rest for 5 minutes and come back to 99+ notifs every single time. (if you relate, you might be a victim of affectionate bullying. feel free to riot about it.)

kaveh, thoma.

the loser at the start line: sneezes whenever the paw comes up on screen, yikes. A+ for effort, though!

venti.

— thanks for reading!

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Helloooo, I can request omega bakugou helping his mate/alpha ace reader with their rut? I thought it might be sfw since u don't feel like writing smut atp :3

Omega Katsuki Bakugou x Ace Alpha male reader

Headcanons

(aged up characters, obviously)

Seeing ace requests in my inbox always make my smile because, hey, that’s me. Where my ace homies at. I’ve very rarely written omegaverse before, but I got so much worldbuilding about it, if you guys are interested.

I have too much worldbuilding and ideas about Omegaverse, so this is a little out of the norm for your usual smut filled rut plot.

For omegaverse, I never imagine that heats or ruts turn you into a horny breeding crazed animal. Yes, with your mate you will feel a lot more arousal and might have moments where you become fueled by your desires, but the majority can still control themselves.

For you, who’s Ace as well, the breeding part isn’t present more than your bodies instincts, but its nothing extreme. It feels the same as when you are really hungry. Sure, the feeling is there, but you can easily go about your day and not let it bother you.

But ruts do more than just make you want to have a lot of pups and crawl all over your omega, even if your omega is as hot as Katsuki is. It tends to cause a lot of stress on the body, from cramping muscles to overheating, dehydration, pacing and other factors that could lead to stress.

So, in Katsuki’s situation, his job during your ruts is mainly to take care of you. To make sure you’re eating and drinking enough fluids. That you aren’t overheating by patting you down with a cold cloth or using ice packs, or even making you cold baths.

He treats it a lot like a very horribly cold for the most part. Sure, your scent also makes him slick up a little and makes his own scent sweeter and riper, but Katsuki is still clear headed and more focused on taking care of you. Especially when he knows you do the same for him when he has heats.

I imagine Katsuki is still his usual snappy growly self, but he doesn’t yell, since ruts also makes your hearing more sensitive. Instead, he just grumbles a lot. With a lot of insults that has no heat thrown in, just because its Katsuki.

As an alpha, you don’t really need a nest, but you bet your damn ass Katsuki makes you one. And only with the best rut materials out there. He won’t accept anything but the best, and Katsuki honestly stresses more about your rut nest than he does his own heat nest.

It reaches a point where, during the early stages of your rut, you just kinda have to thrown yourself in it and show him you like it and accept it.

I could imagine Katsuki worrying a lot, since he knows your ace and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his own scent. Does it bother you that he starts smelling like preheat? Does it make your rut worse? Better? Does he need to leave?

He would also fear crawling into the nest with you, at least in the beginning. After you pull him in multiple times, or tell him to get in, he starts to calm down. You can’t stop him from worrying though, it’s in his blood.

Being ace also doesn’t mean you don’t feel arousal and the like, so if you need to get off, he’s not gonna stop you, and wont touch you unless you want him too. Katsuki knows it won’t go farther than just some touching, if it even gets to that, and he’s more than satisfied.

Having and Ace partner honestly probably helps take some of the stress of his shoulders. He knows you won’t have the same expectations as some other alphas, that he needs to give up on his hero career and be a “good” omega.

Which is also why he’s ready to bend himself backwards to make sure you are comfortable during your rut. Even if staying nearby and taking as much care of you as possible pushes him into preheat, Katsuki is strong enough mentally to keep it bottled up until your rut it over.

This does mean you end up having to take care of him afterwards too, and you gotta call in favors with your friends to cover Katsuki’s patrols, since he didn’t expect to go into heat.

But all in all, ruts with Katsuki are a very planned out affair. Sure, you feel miserable and like you’re boiling on the inside, never able to find a comfortable sleeping position, and like you need to claw your own flesh off. But at least Katsuki is by your side the entire time, ready to hold your hand or hold you as a whole if you need too.

You do have to put up with his nagging though, but you know its just how he shows affection, so in the end it makes you purr at him. Which just gets Katsuki to get all flustered and pretty.

[dovesndecay]

It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤

[undeadcannibal]

imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 

You went by the call sign Mouse. 

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 

"Have any plans for 'em?" 

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 

"They look good on you, kid." 

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 

[heliads]

You and Me (A Whole Lot of History)

Based on this request: "y/n is a historian with access to old schematics so kaz hires her for a job. he keeps inventing reasons to find her afterwards until he’s forced to admit his feelings"

masterlist

You only get to study about half a chapter of your textbook before you’re interrupted by a criminal. It’s not like you mind having to put down the heavy tome you’ve been leafing through; estate law of centuries past is not your idea of some fun light reading, but you’ve been helping to piece together some fragments of an old mansion from pre-Unsea Kerch, and you’d really like to be able to decide if the master of the house your tattered documents keep referring to is the eldest son or the second eldest. 

It all depends on very specific details that refuse to make themselves known to you. So no, having an excuse to stop all this isn’t terrible, you’re just a little distracted by the fact that you’re in a private study room in the historical library of Ketterdam, and you know for certain that you locked the door that has just been opened.

You know who’s just broken into your study space. Not personally, that is, but just as well as any resident of the Barrel knows the one they call Dirtyhands– through bated breath, in stolen whispers of expensive heists and bodies left behind, no traitors tolerated and none allowed to live. The fact that Kaz Brekker has taken it upon himself to enter your study room of all the empty ones still available in the library is not promising, to say the least, although you have absolutely no idea what you’ve done to appear on his radar.

You are, in fact, quite possibly the last person Kaz would even be aware of. You’re a historian, specializing in a few select centuries and powerful families in the Kerch area. This means that you spend most of your time in old and crumbling buildings, not out in shady dealings or shootouts or any of the other places Brekker tends to frequent.

This doesn’t seem to stop Kaz from closing the door behind him and taking a seat opposite your desk. He folds his hands in front of him, idly contemplating the textbook you’re still supposed to be perusing, but remains frustratingly silent.

It falls to you, then, to pick up a conversation, which is unfair considering the fact that he’s the one who’s barged in on your space. “That door was locked for a reason, you know,” you point out.

Kaz arches a dour brow. “Yes. I opened it.”

He’s not making this easy for you. “Why?” You ask.

Instead of answering you, Brekker jerks his chin towards the book in front of you. “What’s that about?”

There is no earthly reason one of the most notorious gang leaders in the Barrel should be asking about the homework you’re doing for your job. Still, he has, so you must answer, no matter how confused you are about it. “Inheritance disputes of the fourteenth century Kerch nobles. Why, are you interested in checking it out after me?”

Kaz scoffs. “No. I just want your information, not that book.”

You feel yourself leaning back slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Trust me, whatever information you’re after won’t be found from me.”

Kaz shakes his head once. “No, actually, I think it will be.”

He reaches for something under his coat, and you’re hit with the brief terror that he’ll get a gun or something and you’ll die here and now, but then his gloved hand comes back out into the light carefully holding a rolled up piece of paper, which he smooths out onto the desk before you. You tuck your textbook away so you can get a better look at the thing, more curious now than afraid.

It turns out to be a copy of house blueprints. As you study it, you realize that you recognize the place. You were there recently for a project for your employer, checking up on the preservation of a few rooms. “Is this the old van Haarst mansion?” 

Brekker’s eyes flash, reminding you of the slick of oil on water. “You know about it?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering further at the blueprints. “I’ve worked there before.”

Kaz nods, looking pleased. “I’d like to buy your services. I need information on this building and your silence on the matter. Are you interested?”

Your brow furrows. “What information do you need?”

To answer you, Brekker tosses a stack of kruge onto the table. You can see the numbers on the edges, and know even without counting that this payment will be far more than what you’d earn even for a year at your job. This is the deal, then. He’ll only tell you more if you accept his money, and if you accept his money, you agree to whatever he wants.

Honestly, not the worst bargain. Ghezen knows you’ve had worse supervisors on other jobs. At least you can trust Brekker to be honest so long as you are too.

You put the stack of bills into your bag, and turn back to the blueprints with renewed interest. “Are you trying to get in or get out?”

“Both,” Kaz tells you. “I’m assuming you’ve heard rumors of Marysa’s Diamond?”

You choke out a laugh. “Have I ever.”

Marysa’s Diamond is like the Saints in flesh for historians. The van Haarst family was exceedingly rich, and one of their matriarchs, Marysa van Haarst, was said to be in possession of an incredible gemstone, the diamond named after her. It disappeared when the family abandoned Kerch for Ravka following the death of three of Marysa’s sons, and no one has seen it since.

You blow out a low breath. “You think it’s in the old house somewhere? Historians have been all over the place, we would have found it if it was there.”

“It wasn’t always,” Kaz tells you. “It’s been moved there. I have good information that the van Haarst house will act as a safe house for the stone while it’s being moved from hand to hand. They’ll keep it there overnight. I will be entering the estate with a team and taking it.”

He goes silent, as if waiting for any objections. You don’t really care about the morals of the affair, though. You have your money and you get to be the foremost expert on a historical favorite of yours. Robberies happen every day, not something to get teary eyed over.

When you don’t speak up, Kaz continues on. “They’ll be keeping the stone in a place no one can find. There will be a window of exactly one bell in which the old owner leaves the house and is replaced by the new owner, carefully staggered so the stadwatch aren’t alerted by too many people in the estate after hours. That means it would have to be a damn good hiding spot. If you were hiding a gemstone in this house, where would you put it?”

You consider the blueprints before you again. There are a thousand and one places you could hide something in there– tucked inside the grand piano, in a safe, under one of a hundred carpets– and there’s no way Brekker’s men could find it in time.

However, that means the person meant to be picking up the diamond wouldn’t be able to find it as well. They would have to find somewhere in the estate hidden to everyone else but the recipient of the gemstone.

The answer occurs to you in a flash. “Oh,” you say, “Secret room.”

Brekker blinks at you. “What?”

You point at the map. “It’s totally going in the secret room. I mean, they don’t want it to be found by anyone else, right? That’s, like, the whole point of a secret room.”

Were it not for the fact that he’s, well, Dirtyhands, you’d swear his voice turns sarcastic. “That was my understanding of a secret room, yes. Where is it?”

Were it not for the fact that he is in fact Dirtyhands, you would roll your eyes. “There’s an entrance off of the secondary hallway leading off of the dining room. Unlock the door using a little latch under the bottom of the ugly painting of the old duchess of Belendt.”

He stares at you. “How do you know that? It’s not on any map.”

You lift a shoulder. “I wanted to know why they’d keep such a foul portrait around. The elites of that time period were huge on perfectionism, every one of their paintings had to be absolutely glorious or it would get removed from their sight. That’s why there are so many old paintings in the surrounding villages, actually, the nobles would just leave these expensive oil paintings outside the castle because they couldn’t take the sight of them anymore. There was no reason they’d let such a dreadful portrait stay unless it was hiding something.”

You had been focused on the map in your hands during the majority of this little speech, fondly recalling little anecdotes from your history classes, but you remember yourself soon enough. You look up and Kaz is staring at you, almost fascinated.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Got distracted.”

He shakes his head brusquely, although there’s a hint of pink on the tops of his cheekbones that wasn’t there before. “No, no. It’s important information. So we should be aware of any suspicious paintings?”

“Yeah,” you muse, “just look for the bad ones. Pretend you’re an art critic or something.”

The edges of Kaz’s dour glare turn themselves up into something of a humored smirk. “Will do. Thank you for the advice, L/N.”

You nod. “Have fun with the heist. Hey, if you see any older books on the history of the family, would you mind grabbing one or two for me? I’ve been trying to do some research for ages, but the library keeps stalling on getting resources to me, no matter how many requests I send.”

Kaz’s brows draw close together. “That would be unbelievably risky. We can’t take more things than we need or we could be caught.”

You grin. “I know, I’m kidding. Just a joke.”

Kaz’s expression lightens microscopically. “Yes, a joke.”

He leaves soon enough, pushing his chair away from the desk and rolling up the blueprints with a crisp snap of the paper. He warns you to keep your mouth shut about the plans, but you’re not sure that he does it with the fire you expected of a notorious gang leader. Instead, the words are soft, like he’s cautioning a friend.

You don’t hear from him again, not for a while. You’re not sure when this mysterious diamond deal is going down, and you doubt the unlucky men Kaz will grift can go to the stadwatch about this. In fact, you have no idea if it’s happened at all until about a week later. You had gone about your day like normal, not suspecting a thing until the moment you unlocked your door.

And there, centered perfectly on your desk when you get back home despite the fact that you never gave keys to your apartment to anyone, are three books. Aged, cracked covers, gilded writing. You hesitantly pick up one and read the title under your breath:  A History of the Bendtsen Family, 1200-1500. Another:  The van Almelos of the Belendt Region:  Two Centuries of Political and Economic Legacy.

Kaz. He actually got the books. Never mind that you were joking, never mind that he knew that, Kaz Brekker went out of his way to risk a heist just so he could help you out with a research project. Saints. And they say chivalry is dead.

You don’t expect to get the chance to thank him for it until he randomly crosses your path not two weeks later. He’s alone again, miraculously turning up outside your company door just as you leave to walk home. Kaz informs you that he’ll need your services again, exchanging some kruge for more words. This time, he wants details on an office building down the street, one that used to be a city hall. You’re able to take him in yourself thanks to access granted to all historians for historic places, and turn a blind eye when he grabs a few documents regarding interport commerce.

He walked you to your door that night, lingering over the threshold like a teenager not wanting to leave a first date. He shows up again after a month, using an excuse that’s less polished and more finicky. The next time, he doesn’t have an excuse at all. It’s just him, standing in front of you. No money, no plan. He just wanted to see you.

Kaz calls it ‘checking up on an investment,’ but you get the feeling that it’s not something he usually does. He walks with you by the water, he buys you drinks at a bar not even in his own pocket. It’s unusually sweet, so you can’t bite back your questions anymore and confront him about it when he hovers in front of your door for the dozenth time.

“What is this about, Kaz?”

He blinks at you in surprise. “What?”

You gesture between the two of you. “All of this. This isn’t for a job anymore. Why?”

Kaz looks away. It’s rare for him to not have a perfect poker face. Perhaps it’s yet another sign that this means something more, something that you can’t help but wish for. “I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’ve called on you for several jobs that can risk the players involved in the game.”

You shake your head. “You’ve gone out of your way to make sure no one knows about me. It’s just us, Kaz. You did that on purpose.”

“Yes,” he admits at last, “I did. I wanted something for myself. Something that wasn’t as bad as the rest.”

He risks a glance over at you, and his shoulders square slightly when he realizes you aren’t trying to fight him on this, or worse, leave. “You’re good, Y/N. Good things don’t last long around here. I want to make sure you do. I want you to stay forever.”

With me, he means. He wants to keep you in his life. His eyes flicker to your hands, and although you know he won’t take them, not yet, he wants to. That’s why you finally put together the pieces. Kaz Brekker is not good at verbalizing his feelings. Perhaps he never will be. This is the best shot he can give you, and he could not even say the word ‘love’ if it ripped his heart out with bleeding fingertips.

You've had so much over the years, and it has never been enough. Not once, not ever. A thousand coffers could empty themselves, a hundred men die and be reborn. It has never once stopped you. This, by contrast, is nothing. A canal rat's promise, most likely broken before the night is through. You know it, Kaz knows it. This is nothing. 

Yet it is the most true thing you have ever had, the one solid stone in a wall about to come crumbling down. It is small, barely there at all, but still worth it. Maybe that is why you stay, for the hope. For him. It is enough.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @deadreaderssociety, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @eclliipsed, @mayfieldss, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[iid-smile]

watermelon duty , itoshi sae

x gn!reader ! mentions of knives, just you and sae enjoying some fruits, might be ooc

author's note: i know i said i barely know anything about sae but i just HAD to write this after seeing a certain manga panels on pinterest + i was really craving fruit during this (and i still am)

synopsis: while preparing some fruits for the two of you to eat, you run into a little dilemma that you have a creative fix to. if he's willing to participate, that is.

word count: 0.8k

late august, as the summer heat is only now beginning to subside. japan was always extremely hot, so a lot of the time you're insistent about getting some vitamin d in, maybe a tan, or at least attempting to enjoy the weather by going outside. and by that, you mean staying at home where shelter was easily accessible, alongside your boyfriend who you begged to have take some time off his training.

things have never gone wrong the past few times you've done this. you'd cut up some fruits for the both of you, pour some pretty mocktails and admire the wildlife around you, like bees and butterflies. however, it could only go so smoothly until you ran into a prominent problem.

"sae..." you mumble, already dreading what's going to happen next as you step into the back garden from the kitchen.

sae was lounging around outside, the chair beside him unoccupied for you. a half full water bottle was stationary on the small glass table, as well as your phone and a few melted chocolates. "hm?" he gazes up from his phone.

waddling over to stand in front of him, you hold up the sharp utensil in your hand, the tip of it completely missing. "i may or may not have a small predicament..."

"you broke the knife?" it doesn't take too long for him to notice.

you nod with a shy confession. "accidentally cut through a mango seed 'nd i've still got the watermelon to cut." and that was true. it sounds made up, but the mango had an abnormally large seed compared to what you're used to.

he was looking at you as if it was your fault that it was too weak of a material. his lips curled downwards, squinted eyes and furrowed eyebrows. what kind of knife snaps just from cutting into a mango seed? yours, apparently. "how do you expect me to fix that?"

"well..." you mutter, looking off to the side. even though you've been dating him for quite a bit, his stare does get overwhelming. "i've seen videos of people crushing watermelons with their thighs, and i was wondering if—"

"you want me to do that?"

you nod.

"the things i do for you..." he sighs, and he adjusts himself in his seat, waving you off. "pass it to me." no second question, straight to the point.

you don't want to seem too excited about it, hopping back into the kitchen trying to bite down a smile. behold, the dreaded, and also quite sizeable, watermelon sat on the cutting board.

you're actually a bit worried he wouldn't be able to open it up, because you know... it's a watermelon. the struggles you've had trying to cut it with kitchen tools, and he presumably could do it with his thighs? you may or may not fall in love with him all over again.

the fruit in hand, you march back over to him, and he's already sat up. "you ready?" he asks. are you ready? why is he asking you if you're ready? you should be the one saying that!

"yeah." the fruit's weight starts to catch up on your arms, and you hand it to him. "this might make a mess..." you state, almost as if to talk him out of it like you weren't the one to suggest the idea.

sae simply gives you a blank glance, positioning himself on the chair. "it's fine. i'll clean it afterwards."

"but-" he doesn't wait for you to finish, knowing full well you'll go on a whole blabber and nag session about how he shouldn't do such silly things for you, how you should've went out and bought another knife, the works.

crush!

and just like that, the watermelon was crumpled into two, as well as the addition of a few pieces that broke off. he even made sure to do it closer to the middle so you'd have more even halves. compared to the videos you've seen, he's done it quite neatly.

"done." his grip loosen's on the chair's arms, and he relaxes again. the red juice dipped down onto the ground, creating a small puddle beneath him, and you fear it'll soon become a sweet attraction to ants. his shorts were also starting to dampen with a small amount of liquid. luckily, the fabric was black.

"oh!" you gasp, snapping out of it. he was giving you a near expectant look, and you swiftly scoop up whatever you could, not even minding your sleeves getting stained. "i'll get you a towel!" you quickly rush back into the house.

as silly and clumsy as you may be, sae does love you, and he wouldn't crush a watermelon for you like that if he didn't.

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

[bonny-kookoo]

Uff can we have a drabble of someone older jk being jealous ???

Ooh! I love them so much ☝️

---

Something about this just.. bothers him. Greatly. Makes his skin crawl and fingers itch. This man isn't even remotely in your age range- but then again, he himself technically isn't either, right?

"So when it flickers like that, it's not all that bad. You'll just have to ask someone to change the one that's making some trouble, not like back in the day when you had to replace the whole thing." The man gently laughs, making you nod, before you notice Jungkook walking closer to you now- not having seen him find you in the large store after you'd told him you'd go find some string lights in the length he wanted and couldn't find.

"Jungkook, those are what you were looking for." You offer the box into his hands, and he takes them- but not without placing a warm hand on your back as well, one which slides over it to rest on your shoulder, pulling you into him.

You don't think too much of it.

"Hmhm, thank you for finding them." He tells you, before he looks up at the man, who can't help but start laughing.

"Your husband will surely help you with them if they break. But they're really good, I'm not just saying that." He jokes, making you tense up noticeably underneath Jungkook's hand- but he gently reassures you, before the man leads you both to pay for the string lights.

In the car, you're not sure how to talk about it. "He was pretty good looking. For his age." He mentions, and you turn to look at him as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel of the car in the beat of the softly playing car radio.

"He was." You agree- because it's true. What is he getting at?

It's quiet again, until you realize it.

"But not as good looking as you." You giggle, leaning against the car seat as you watch him become rather caught off guard. "You're a lot more handsome than any man I know."

"You don't have to stroke my ego or anything." He denies, though he's internally a little happy to hear that you find him visually attractive as well.

"I'm not." You shrug. "Just.. noticed I never say it." You tell him. "You're handsome."

"Thank you." He nods, smile on his lips. "You're also very beautiful, wife." He teases- though he notices how quiet you become afterwards, even as you enter his house later to put the string lights on the tree. "Hey-" He starts, hands taking yours away from the box as you both sit on the floor in front of the tree. "-I'm sorry if what I said overstepped a boundary." He apologizes.

"No- it's just.. I don't know how to.. ask without making things weird." You mumble, not looking at him.

"You're not making things weird, promise." He chuckles, still holding your hands in his.

"Would you.. even consider marrying again?" You wonder, looking at him after a few seconds pass without him answering- causing him to smile.

"There we go. I love your attention too much to not have you look at me when we're talking." He teases, making you roll your eyes playfully. "But- maybe. In the future, possibly." He nods. "But I'm more careful now.. I hope you understand."

"No, I totally get it!" You rush out. "It- I wasn't asking you to like, marry me right now or something. Absolutely not!" You say, making him laugh as he pulls you closer to sit on his lap, arms wrapped around you.

"Even if you did, I would've said no. At least for now." He offers honestly. "I want to do this right this time. And that means no rushing." He says, pecking your lips. "We don't need fancy rings and documents to know that we love each other, no?" He asks, and you nod.

"I just need you." You almost whisper towards him. "...and a kiss maybe, every now and then." You say, making him laugh.

"Well, that can surely be arranged."