#im so so... deeply protective of them both...

[tame-the-lion-writes]

dosg shifter 141 im in love queen <3, i cant wait to hear your thoughts on like if any of the guys are actually falling for reader??? like obviously if they were, you cant tell cause it just looks like your dog is showing it's usual affection towards ya yk....rightttt?

(This is probably a little more of a serious drabble than you expected wHOOps-- but 'twas needed anyhow)

For the first few days/weeks/however long, it’s very much a denial phase for the boys. They see reader as pack, but they can’t exactly explain why or how. To them, at the very least, you're a grounding technique that keeps their shifting from going haywire, or an easy cover that keeps them from being discovered. At most, those are both excuses for them sticking around--you're truly, undoubtedly, a loving protector, provider, and friend. And that's new. That's precious. Because they're so used to being the ones to protect and provide.

Being a soldier means a lot of conditioning, whether through training or trauma. And for them, it means believing in a cause while keeping yourself distant from that cause--because softness and close quarters make for poor decision-making, and there's no way to protect civilians while having the heart of one.

But this--whatever this is--is mutual.

They're forced to slow down, and for once, there's no running into the field, ready to die. There's no shower of bullets or swipe of the knife. They're no longer carrying assault rifles and camouflage; they're walking with you to the park, getting groceries, watching you sing to yourself in the kitchen. No--you're the one protecting them, albeit in less bloody ways. Often so kind and meek, yelling at a grumpy Karen who insults your dogs, or bandaging up cuts and scrapes whenever they get into trouble. Teary-eyed yet scolding. Out of true, genuine worry--and not the stress of a commander who's scared of losing his pawns.

Once that realization hits--that instead of a means to an end, you're truly and wholly a person to them, and that they mean the world to you--that you care so deeply and warmly and completely--it's impossible not to fall. Soon enough, they're nuzzling just a little closer into your embrace when night falls. They're paying extra attention to your likes and dislikes, and stopping themselves short of nosing into your favorite snacks. They're making the first move to hop onto the couch for movie night, instead of you calling beforehand.

In other words, at some point, it was no longer a transaction. It was no longer "I get" and "you receive." It was no longer them doing the bare minimum to guard you and keep you alive--but more. Because now, the reason your scent calls out to them is equally clear: you're not just safety.

You're home.

And now that they've found a home, they'll always come back to you, no matter what.

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[1980ssunflower]

There is something so indescribably special about my loves...

[toastsnaffler]

thinking abt the touden siblings got me sniffling and weeping....

[chuulyssa]

drunk and driven. (light yagami)

↷ A/N ─ happy belated birthday to light and me !! i hope you enjoy this :) again, this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader is as sober as light here. written by a zombie-me at 4am. also im sorry if the camera topic is overused, i just couldnt help myself fantasizing about this

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, dom!light, drinking, smut, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, nicknames (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), edging, begging kink, voyeurism

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend punishes you for almost letting slip his real identity

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The dim glow of the television cast shadows around the room. You had been at your high school's farewell party, and had too many drinks there to stumble back home in one piece. It was almost midnight, so there was also no way your boyfriend, Light Yagami, would have let you out of his sight, especially with how tipsy you were. He was quite protective of you, but he was right. You let out a drunk sigh and looked away, silently accepting the fact that you'd have to meet his parents in the morning and share a few awkward exchanges.

Light had had more drinks than you at the party, but he looked far from as drunk as you currently were. He was quietly watching a movie on the TV, stroking your hair lightly. Your gaze went up from Light to the flickering screen. A sudden surge of courage rushed through you.

"Light," you whispered, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice.

"No, you're not going home tonight," Light replied without looking at you.

"No, it's not that," you said frustratedly.

Light raised his eyebrows, hearing you slur your words due to the effects of the alcohol. Still, he did not look at you.

"How much did you drink?"

"Less than what you drank," your throat burned, your eyes drooping slightly.

He ignored you, seemingly engrossed in the movie, but you knew it was all just an act for the cameras L had set up.

You continued, "And it doesn't matter how much I drank, because either way, you refuse to give me attention."

Ryuk snickered in the corner.

Light frowned, finally turning his attention towards you as his eyes trailed down your body. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the redness of your cheeks, and the slight swaying of your body.

He looked at you for a few more seconds with a calculating look before sighing and setting the remote on his table. He stood up, "You should really get some sleep."

"No," you repeated.

"I-" Light was starting to get annoyed. "Are you crazy? Don't you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I just- I-" You sighed again, leaning back against your chair and almost falling off.

"Idiot," Light muttered, catching you before you fell. He carried you to his bed and lay you down gently before covering you with his blanket. "Are you comfortable? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"No, no, I need cuddles," you smiled drunkenly, completely forgetting what you were going to say back when you had gotten some "courage".

"Of course, you do," Light said proudly. "You need my cuddles to sleep."

You hummed in response. As he snottily took his shirt off before lying down next to you, you closed your eyes slightly. They were burning, as if trying to stop you from both closing them and keeping them open.

His hands made their way to your back, gently pushing your neck to his bare chest. You finally shut your heavy eyelids and snuggled closer to him. This was what you always wanted. Just you and Light. Alone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still tightly shut, your face pressed against him. Alone? It was laughable that you thought even for a moment that you two were alone right now. Well, for one, there was a God of Death in the same room as you, trying not to pass out from the lack of apples in his digestive system. Second, a great detective was watching the two of you, possibly along with your boyfriend's own father.

Light pulled you even closer to him, inhaling your scent deeply. Soon, the two of you drifted off to dreamland, and L was left questioning whether the seventeen-year-old star student really was a murderer.

You woke up, limbs tangled with Light's. You checked your wristwatch. About four hours had passed, and as you tried to sit up, your head felt heavy from an early hangover. Light's eyes jerked open. He had always been a light sleeper.

"Hm?" he mumbled in his sleep, no longer feeling the presence of your head in the crook of his neck. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I... had a dream," you said slowly.

"Nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Light sat up slowly and reached out for a glass of water to hand to you.

You peeked into the glass, rubbing your left eye until you saw stars.

"Vodka?" you said hopefully.

"Water," he replied calmly.

You pouted pleadingly; more alcohol was what you needed right now, but you eventually had to resign to your boyfriend. You drank the water, and instantly felt much more sober than you were before. Your sleepy eyes fell on Ryuk, his legs and hands in a rather uncomfortable position, perhaps due to not having apples for such a long time.

For a moment, you, for the second time that night, completely forgot about the existence of the cameras.

You turned to Light. "How long is he going to go without apples?"

"Who, honey?" Light's eyes flashed warningly, but you were far too sleepy to notice.

"Ryuk, your Shini-"

Your words were cut off by a sharp kiss. Light had completely thrown himself at you, and you fell back down on the bed due to the sheer force of his abrupt kiss. The empty glass landed on the floor with a loud clink, but he ignored it. His hands reached under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as if daring you to talk further.

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows, to gain some kind of control over what was happening. But Light pushed you back down, pulling you by your hips and roughly throwing your head down on the pillow.

He pulled away eventually, the pupils of his eyes completely red, and you cursed yourself mentally. This was not your Light. This was Kira.

He leaned away from you, got up to pick up the thrown glass and filled it with water again, but as he offered it to you, you rejected it. "I'm sober enough for this, Light."

"Very well then," Light whispered and leaned in closer to your ear. "I hope you remember you're being watched. Make sure you put on a show."

You nodded slowly, letting his hands roam around and make their way to the hem of your skirt, twirling the fabric around his fingers. He brought another hand to your top and slid it under the cloth, feeling the material of your satin bra.

"The one I gifted to you?" he raised his eyebrows, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes," you whispered, pulling his bare chest against your clothed one. "Strip me, Light."

"What's the magic word?" he teased, hand slipping under your bra and cupping your breast.

"Please," you whimpered when he pinched your nipple.

Ryuk snapped his eyes open and tumbled out of the room clumsily, perhaps to give you some privacy.

"Good girl," he didn't hide his smirk this time as he pulled your top off completely, throwing it to the side where it landed on his chair next to his own shirt. He ran his hands down your back, grabbing the zipper of your skirt and slowly pulling it down. Light slid the skirt down your legs, leaving you in a matching set of satin underwear and bra.

"Pretty," he murmured, his hand grasping his growing bulge tightly.

"Let me help you with that," you sat up on all fours and leaned in closer, a hand stretched out to touch his crotch.

You rubbed him lightly, slowly increasing your pace before unbuckling his belt and slipping your hand under his boxers. Your constant touching of his tip made him groan, hand reaching out to yank you by your hair and push you back down to the bed. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your breasts, pressing them against your chest.

"Take my bra off."

"I'm not a man to be told what to do," he said, bringing his lips down to your neck. "But I will allow it this time."

Light freed his hands from your grip and brought them to your back, unclasping the hook of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your breasts in his hands, lowering himself so that his mouth sucked on one nipple while his hand squeezed the other.

"Fuck," you moaned, pushing his head against your chest.

He grabbed your hand and brought it once more to his crotch, letting you feel the bulge in his pants again.

"You're not the only one who's needy right now."

"You're so- god, I can't wait to feel you inside me," you said, rubbing his dick through the fabric.

"Patient girls are rewarded," he said, dragging his lips from your neck to your collarbone, his free hand ripping your panties off.

"Hey!" you whisper-screamed.

"I'll buy you another set," he said calmly, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot.

"Yes," you moaned, pushing his hand against your pussy. "Faster."

He brought his other hand from your nipple to your clit and started rubbing it in circles, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," you whimpered after a few minutes, feeling your orgasm build.

"Mhm, do it, what a good girl," he said, rubbing your clit faster, aiding your release. You came hard on his fingers, arching your back, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. Your legs shook, while he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them to your mouth. "Clean them."

You nodded, sucking on his fingers, your teeth digging into his skin. Light smirked.

"Don't you think you should be punished?"

"Huh-? For what, Li-?"

Your words were cut off once again when he pulled you onto his lap so that your ass faced him and you lay on your stomach, pussy pressed against his crotch.

_ _ _ _

"L, I don't think we should be watching this," Soichiro Yagami kept his eyes away from the screen, where his son, his perfect little son, was busy fingering his girlfriend. He hadn't even known he had a girlfriend, let alone the fact that they were so... intimate with each other.

"There has to be some meaning in what the girl said," L racked his brains, eyes scanning the scene, now showing you in Light's lap and his hand rubbing your ass. "Apples?"

"For god's sake, it may be some sort of safeword for when they- for when they do- this," Soichiro yelled, his eyes on the floor.

"It's not a mere coincidence, Mr Yagami," L said thoughtfully. "Apples? Kira told me 'Shinigamis' loved apples earlier. This is not a coincidence, Mr Yagami."

_ _ _ _

"You're going to be punished for fucking everything up," he whispered in your ear before smacking your ass hard. "Count."

"One!" you yelped, feeling the sting of his hand on your ass. "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!"

He kept spanking you, alternating between your ass cheeks. You could feel his dick hard against your stomach, and ignoring the pain in your ass, you started to grind against it.

"Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!"

He spanked you harder, and you could feel your ass getting red. You were breathing heavily, and your pussy was so wet that it was dripping onto his lap.

"Nine! Ten!"

_ _ _ _

"Can we stop watching this now?" Soichiro groaned.

"There has to be some hint," L traced the screen with his fingers which showed you getting spanked hard by Light now.

Soichiro let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Mr Yagami, you can close your ears and eyes," L said without looking away from the screen.

_ _ _ _

"Good girl," Light said, rubbing your ass. "Now, a reward."

He slid his pants and boxers down to his legs and wiggled out of them. He brought his dick to your pussy, rubbing its head against your clit and earning a moan from your pursed lips. He flipped you over, pinning you under him on the bed again as he continued to tease you.

"Please, Light," you begged, trying to reach out for his dick so you could push it in.

"Please what?" he said sweetly and you groaned in annoyance.

"Please fuck me."

He smiled and pushed his dick inside you slowly, savouring every inch of your tight pussy.

"Oh!" you wailed, feeling his cock stretch your pussy.

He started bucking his hips in and out, fucking you harder as his balls slapped against your clit, doubling the pleasure. He was careful not to make a sound, but he didn't stop you from letting your strangled moans out. This would be your punishment, facing his mother in the morning after getting fucked so hard by him at night.

You tried very hard to suppress your lustful sounds, eyes welling up at the thought of facing his family in a few hours, but you couldn't. He was too good. He knew just how to get under your skin. Slowly, you felt your second orgasm approaching.

"Ah, ah! I want to come," you clasped your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. He was going so hard on you, of course, his mother and his sister would wake up if he continued.

"No, you're not. Hold it in," Light commanded. "You're going to come when I say so."

He kept fucking you harder, and you could feel your orgasm building. This was torture. There was no way you could hold yourself in when he was going so hard on you.

"Please, Light," you begged, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. "I can't hold it in anymore."

"Hold it in, I said," he said, flipping you over again and spanking your ass hard. He increased his speed, and you buried your head in a pillow to muffle your screams. "I'm going to come inside you now. Understood?"

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you knew he wasn't lying about his orgasm. You nodded slowly, voice still distant because of the pillow.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he released his juices inside you, pushing his dick deep inside you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, and it sent you over the edge.

"Now, come for me, pretty girl," Light said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes!" you screamed, feeling your orgasm wash over you. His cum was dripping out of your pussy, and you could feel his cock softening inside you.

"Good," he said, pulling his cock out of you. It was scary how calm and composed he was when a minute ago, he had spanked you so hard. He grabbed a towel and wiped your pussy clean.

_ _ _ _

Soichiro blinked at the abrupt ending of the sounds. Still refusing to look up at the screen, he asked, "Is it over now?"

"They're both still naked," L said, analyzing the place, feeling his own dick harden at your bare figure, panting and sweating as Light got off you and laid next to you, throwing the towel somewhere insignificant.

"Well then?" Soichiro said.

"Well what?"

"You made me watch my son... doing- doing stuff with his girlfriend," Soichiro said in a shaky voice, his hands behind his back to avoid pulling his hair out in frustration. "What have you understood from this?"

"What I've understood?" L said thoughtfully, his gaze unconsciously reaching his growing bulge. "Your son is quite romantic, I suppose."

© chuulyssa, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[leovenuslatina]

𝓓𝓞 𝓜𝓔(18+) ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ PT.1

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tips appreciated

this is all about what your FS thinks while doing you

(as always this reading is 18+) MDNI

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

✧˖°. IM so so so sorry for being MIA so i decide to make this reading a three parter 💘 AND it was my bday month in June so turn up for me yall and after that i just took a small hiatus 🤭 also i wanna say thank you all for checking on me 🥲 it warm my heart so much knowing you guys care about me 🥹!!i may also be redoing some old PACS of mine so stay tuned !! ✧˖°.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

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pile one - knight of cups, the sun, two of wands, ten of pentacles

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pile one when having sex your FS thoughts are “don’t finish too quick” and “i hope i last” lmaooo they’re literally laser focused on lasting as long as possible. they literally want to just pound into you and fill you up as quick and as fast as possible but they restrain because ultimately your pleasure is theirs. your FS main thoughts are all about being close to you and how much they love it they adore having sex with you because it means they get to be as close to you as possible: skin to skin limbs intertwined with one another. they also want so badly to be good enough for you your FS wants badly to pleasure you and they worry deeply about how they’re performing for you they take pride in making you feel good and communication is key with this person they loveeeeee when you tell them just how good you feel 🥹 or if you don’t like something they also love that because at least they will know how to better understand your needs. when having sex with you your FS has spent so much time thinking about this special moment they literally always fantasize about sharing really hot intimate moments like this and making you moan all night long. your FS thinks about all the different things he’d like to try and what type of kinks you two may share together your FS seriously is willing to do literally what you want to try they love to make you happy. while inside you pile one all your FS can think about is how you must be too good to be true you’re just too beautiful too gorgeous to be true. Your FS views you as their dream girl and all they think about is how they are so nervous and they hope that you can’t tell just how scared they are to let you down.

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extra messages - creative, charming, dreamer, joy , success, anxiety, gain, goals,

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pile two - five of pentacles, ace of wands, page of swords, knight of pentacles

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Similar to pile one your FS worries about them making you feel good your FS feels like they’re putting on a performance for you. they may even hold off on sex for a while in your relationship just because of how nervous w make them 🤭but eventually their love for you will overcome any negative thoughts they may have because their feelings are wayyyy stronger than anything. i’m also seeing that they have a huge fear of getting you pregnant so they will make sure to have hella protection on hand like always. i’m seeing you and your FS will have lots of conversations about his fears pertaining to intimacy and the bedroom which may sound like a scary thing but i’m seeing one or both of you could have major issues when it comes to being so intimate and vulnerable but it will make you so much more stronger as a couple therefore making your sex life ten times better. when the two of you are making love they will overcompensate in some ways like they have hella toys i’m seeing vibrators and d!ldxs and also getting they’ll get some pleasure from overstimulating you watching you squirm and jerk around it really gets him going like nothing else.

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extra messages- new beginnings, intelligent, challenging, ambitious, dependable, honorable

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pile three - the emperor, knight of wands , four of swords, queen of cups,

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right off the bat pile three your FS is very confident in their size i see him almost presenting himself to you. you know that snl sketch “d!ck in a box” it’s like that bc he’s like really proud of how big he is. Your FS is very confident in how well he can please and you know what he can most definitely back it tf up. he knows exactly how to walk that walk and talk the talk 👏🏾. i’m also seeing he’s like about to put it in and you’re all like “it won’t fit” and he kisses you and smirks and he’s like “i’ll make it fit.” Your FS feels like having sex with you as the most addictive drug he’s every done. literally even one single day without your body your kisses your touch and he’s itching for another hit of you. When having s3x with you pile three your FS thinks about how it feels like being intimate with you heals parts of them that you may not have broken but you play the biggest part in putting them back together again 💞 so even though the two of you are horny freaks in the bedroom your s3x is extremely healing ❤️‍🩹. Your FS thinks about how compatible the two of you are and how good it feels to be with you not just having sxx but outside of the bedroom. Your FS thinks about how luck ly he is to be with you how he truly feels spoiled by the universe to have found their perfect match 🥹

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extra messages- passionate, masculine,determination, impulsive, rest, spouse

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[i23kazu]

♡ THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU'RE HIS LOVER?!

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe wriothesley x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. part 1 !!!! when someone else claims to be their partner / work wife. office!au. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

you're pretty taken aback by the gall of this .... intern? whoever even was she? to claim that she was your husband's wife.

yep, that's how irrelevant she is

xiao was disgusted, to say the least. horrified.

"get your hands off me." he looks her in the eye, the sudden fierceness emitting a gasp from her.

"i love it when you're strict," she purrs, tracing her fingers up his neck. you smack them away.

"perhaps you'll love it if the ceo was stricter with you," you smile sweetly. "i don't think he takes too kindly to homewreckers."

zhongli

not again. not this ... piece of dirt? no, that might be an insult to his old friend guizhong.

she's a catty lady. beady eyes that went straight for his soul – her piercing stare seemed to always follow him.

he didn't like it one bit. his grip around your waist felt tighter, desperate even – a cold "let's go, dear," escaping his lips.

"so protective, suddenly?" you tease.

"i don't take kindly to those who try to insult my love, dearest."

diluc

oh, he goes red with rage. but he looks on at you proudly, because he knows you got it.

who even was she to claim that she loved him? a silly flowergirl who couldn't do her job right, because she was oogling him the whole time. she worshipped the ground he stepped on.

"who are you looking at?" you tap her on the shoulder, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"that man... he's mine." she gazes into his eyes, looking him up and down. you scratch your neck. she asks if you're alright.

"i'm afraid i'll have to correct you on that statement. that man is mine." you grin, turning your hand to show her your ring.

kaeya

okay, you totally get it. your husband is hot. but literally the AUDACITY the lack of SHAME the the the-

"please, we've been put together for almost all our cases. isn't that right, darling? it's almost as if they know we're good for each other." they purr.

darling?? DARLING?? you'll show them darling

"is that so?" you chuckle. "perhaps i ought to write in, then. i'm not too sure if my husband takes well to that. a violation of his personal life, if you will."

they go white at the sight of the ring.

"that's my love." kaeya chuckles, watching then stomp away.

childe

he's wildly uncomfortable. "your complexion is deeply concerning, tartaglia," the doctor chuckles.

"i wonder why." he returns it dryly.

he's too nice to avoid them – those longing stares, the notes slipped through stacks of his paperwork – he cant crumple them up and throw them away. he pretends that they're from you instead.

when that witch comes around to his desk, purring and grimy witch hands all over his papers; pretending to annoy him – 

he can't take it. it's disgusting.

"i'd appreciate it if you left me alone," he stares at her. "my partner and i would appreciate it very much."

wriothesley

oh, he's firm. he's firm, and he's strict about it. word gets around quickly in the meropide, and he sits back with his cup of tea and sighs at the thought of a work lover.

he doesn't stand for it, though. he hates the thought of that.

"get your hands away from me, please," he replies coldly, when they run up to hug him, first thing in the morning.

sigiewinne looks on with a proud smile. i raised that boy.

the girl turns away from him with disgust – from seemingly perfect to nothing but sludge beneath her feet. she slinks away, and wriothesley is satisfied.

he can't wait to tell you the news over a cup of your favourite tea.

perhaps some alone time with each other will do the both of you good.

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[espionn]

LeafWing tribe sheet!

its over, i finally did them all. sorry this one took a while, ive been losing motivation, but at least its done!! honestly i love leafwings, so im glad i could get them out.

Physical Appearence + Traits:

-LeafWings are arboreal dragons, living in and relying on trees to hunt, shelter and sleep. Their talons are perfectly shaped to comfortably climb and hold onto branches, and their narrow wings allow them to swoop and weave through the trees without crashing.

-LeafWings’ colors, physical traits, and even demeanor shift and change with the seasons. During the summer, their frills and wings are rich green, and scales bright and glossy. They have higher energy and sleep less. During the fall, their colors shift to a warmer spectrum, their leafy frills start to flake off, and they start to prepare for winter. Once winter arrives, they lose their frills, tail-leaf and wing membranes, as well as turning duller and darker. They spend the majority of winter asleep, relying on the trees’ bare branches for camouflage, now rendered flightless. Finally, during spring, they wake up, their colors brighten, and their wing membranes return. The buds that grow along their backs open up and form their spine frills before summer begins.

-LeafWings are lithe and agile, and are very quiet fliers, especially when compared to HiveWings and SilkWings.

-During the summer, with their wings at their fullest, they can actually photosynthesize. They still need to eat food, but anytime they sleep during the day with their wings open to the sun, they wake up energized and not needing to eat for a while after. 

-The coloration and shape of LeafWings’ wings varies both by region and individual. Some LeafWings mimic specific types of trees.

-Some LeafWings also have Leafspeak, an ability which allows them to communicate with plants and even control them if powerful enough. 

Life Cycle:

-LeafWings hatch in clutches of one or two. They take around 5 months to hatch, and they are deeply reliant on their parents and their wider community. LeafWings are strongly protective of their dragonets. They also grow up somewhat quickly, reaching physical maturity quickly, but they continue to grow in size their entire lives.

-They partner for life, but often only raise one clutch of eggs (sometimes only a single egg) in their lifetime. The tribe is somewhat small as a result.

-LeafWings don’t have an official education system, instead relying on parents, peers and older, more experienced dragons to teach them what they need to know. LeafWings can then go on to pursue whatever tribe role stands out to them, using a sort of mentoring system.

Society and Culture:

-Before LeafWings were split into two groups, the tribe was quite peaceful and unified. The queen, by tradition, always had a council, and they lived nearby and alongside SilkWings. The tribe was known for being friendly and knowledgeable, and deeply dedicated to caring for the forest. 

-LeafWings are also very resourceful. From various leaves, grasses, bits of wood, flowers, and insects, they could create baskets and rugs, thin slats of wood to write on, dyes, storage objects, and various weapons and food preparing tools. Learning to make and control fire meant they could progress faster. They were also talented woodcarvers, weavers and artists, sometimes trading not only supplies, but also various art pieces to and from the SilkWings. 

-They were expert foragers, and had records of every type of tree, plant and animal in their forest. Many had  small gardens of their own - medicinal herbs, spices, and plants they simply found pretty. 

-Those with leafspeak were beloved and respected in the tribe, not dissimilar to animus dragons. Sometimes they would mould the shape of trees’ growth to create proper homes and nests for dragons to spend the nights, especially in winter.

-They have tribe-wide celebrations to mark spring, when they all wake from torpor, and the summer solstice, when they are at their highest energy and fullest lives. 

-The SapWings, after the tribe was forcibly split, remained very similar culturally, though they lost their ability to trade and had to concentrate on survival in the poison jungle. The PoisonWings, meanwhile, changed dramatically. They became distinctly aggressive and warlike, taking their understanding of plants and animals and weaponizing them. They used the many venoms, poisons and sharp, dangerous objects throughout the jungle to their full advantage. A number of dragons died in the process, but those who survived became stronger.

-LeafWings believe that plants hold some level of consciousness, and some believe that they are animated by fully conscious spirits, each with its own unique consciousness and opinions. Trees are unanimously believed to be extremely wise and benevolent, and as deserving utmost care and respect. They are treated as if they were tribe elders themselves. It was once agreed upon by all leafspeakers that if a tree resisted a request, they were not allowed to make any attempt to force it to do what they wanted. Leafspeakers would also be used to make requests before cutting off any part of the tree to use - if it refused, it would be left alone. (It isn’t hard to imagine the way they felt when the entire forest was cut and burned down by the HiveWings.)

Diet: Omnivorous. LeafWings eat meat (birds, rodents, sometimes large mammals and reptiles), sometimes raw, sometimes cooked, and also a wide variety of plants, fruits and nuts. Because of the versatility of their diet, they have a great number of meals they like to prepare, usually garnished with herbs, spices and sweeteners like honey and certain types of tree sap.

[mysterycitrus]

This may be nothing, or a dumb thought, but I'm curious as your thoughts on Dick (despite being with Bruce for most of life) keeping the name Grayson as an homage to his parents and where he came from, and what might change for him with that name being a reference to Talon/the prophecy he was bred for instead?

beloved anon im gonna be so expeditiously for real with u right now and say i am the number one court of owls hater. the “gray son” is one of the dumbest retcons ive ever read. william cobb sounds like a frozen food mascot. everything about it on a metatexual level super sucks. tying dicks destiny to a preplanned prophecy by a sewer death cult completely delegitimatises the connection bruce makes that night at the circus — that anyone, rich or poor, can experience profound loss in an unjust system. the only thing i hate more is the joker being the one who killed the waynes. i simply do not see it 😌

anyway wrt the grayson name i like the idea that it was anglicised when they crossed the atlantic and then just stuck that way. dicks position in gotham vs the other wayne kids is thee most isolating and foreign — he’s lost every connection to his life and family, and he’s stuck in an unfamiliar city with a bunch of strangers in a big house on the hill. the same as with robin, it makes sense he’d cling to what he had left. he’d be stuck under a new spotlight, with a different audience, and to keep himself safe he’d hold onto the name grayson, protecting the memory of his parents, with both hands and never let go.

do i think he’d ever take the wayne name? eh, probably not. out of bruces kids (excluding duke for obvious reasons) i think neither dick or jason would ever change their names. if jason hadn’t died? maybe. but not now, and never again. the little dance dick and bruce have been doing round each other for twenty or so years where they are both father and son and best friends and brothers is so difficult to untangle that they don’t even try. bruce has nightmares in canon of being confronted by the graysons for taking their son from them. i imagine that while he’d never say it, whenever bruce hears dick referred to by paps as “richard wayne” there’s some deeply buried, burning pride. but he would never dare to speak it aloud.

[vennilavee]

red card

pairing: barou shoei x reader

summary: italy is one of the most romantic places in the world. unfortunately, it hasn't quite felt like that in some time.

warnings: BLLK MANGA SPOILERS !!!

word count: 3k

a/n: happy valentine's day!! just a fun miscommunication fic to be my first bllk fic...im running away

“Working with him is such a pain, like, who takes interviews only at 4:35 AM? Who does he think he is, anyway?” 

“Well… he is the highest goalscorer in the entire league right now,” Mari counters, “I think that warrants that he can make some demands-”

“Oh, you’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?” you roll your eyes playfully, shoving your colleague and friend’s shoulder.

“Whatever,” she shrugs, “Better start packing, considering your flight is in…seven hours.”

In the last few years, you’ve been to Turin, Italy almost too many times to count. Sometimes for your job, and sometimes for…other reasons. Though in the last six months, it’s been mainly for work, no thanks to your stupidly talented striker boyfriend who just coincidentally happens to play for the Ubers.

You wouldn’t trade your sports journalist job for anything else, but with the combination of his always hectic schedule and your growing responsibilities as a senior journalist, it’s been next to impossible to spend any extra time together.

Other than squeezing in an interview at 4:30 AM just so you have an extra twenty minutes with him before training starts.

You scoff as you try to conceal the fatigue under your eyes with concealer. You’d love to go to Rome, Florence or Venice, or anywhere really, with your boyfriend. But he’s stubborn and rigid in his routines. You’re not ungrateful to be with your handsome, protective boyfriend with a dry humor that only very few appreciate. You just want a little more.

So you’ve been to all of those places, and then some, by yourself or with your coworkers or friends. Pretty much everyone except for him.

You’re trying to be understanding. He’s a globally known soccer player and gets recognized everywhere and anywhere he goes. All he wants is a day off, a day to relax and spend time and the offseason with you. Is it awful that you want a little more?

The relationship itself isn’t terribly new or terribly old. Maybe the distance makes it feel newer than it is.  But you’ve known each other since childhood, both of your families being friends and both of you running around the soccer circuit since a young age. His days in blue lock coincided with your days of playing soccer for your high school. That man with the red streaks in his hair has been in your life for nearly as long as you’ve been in it, and you don’t want to change anything about that.

You sigh and shrug your coat on, mentally preparing yourself to ignore Barou Shouei’s attempts at kissing you before you take the mic.

“Hello, Barou-san,” you say stiffly, pushing your hand out for him to shake, “It’s nice to see you before the sun has risen.” The vein in his forehead throbs at your indifference and you grin, letting the facade melt. It’s been two months since you’ve seen him. You suppose you can wait a little longer to fight with him.

“You didn’t text me when you landed,” he says, “Or when you got here-”

“I landed an hour and a half ago and came here straight from the airport,” you roll your eyes, “Someone only takes interviews at this ungodly hour and I don’t want any special treatment.”

“If I want to give you special treatment, then I will,” Barou says, pulling you in by your forearm and wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug. You inhale deeply, immediately feeling sleepy as his warmth embraces you.

“Don’t make it sound like such a threat,” you mumble, pressing your cheek into his shoulder. Your fingers thread through his longer hair, resting at the nape of his neck. He must not yet have applied his cologne, because he smells fresh.

“Wanna take this interview in bed?” you joke, pulling away from him just an inch.

“How unprofessional of you,” he says dryly, “I’ll have to inform your superiors.”

You roll your eyes again, grinning when he pulls you in for a proper kiss. His touch makes you weak in the knees, makes you yearn for him even though he’s in your arms. For just a few short days. 

Your heart aches inadvertently.

“I got you tickets for today’s training and tomorrow’s game. I know you don’t need them,” Shouei says, sticking them in your coat pocket, “Let’s get this over with so we can go.”

He squeezes your arm, dark eyes lingering with unspoken and heavy words as he takes your hand in his towards the stadium.

Interviewing with you is always easy, despite having interviewed with you one-on-one only a handful of times. It’s the start of a new season at Ubers (and his third year with the club), and he’s eager to win the league this time. Last season, they came so close.

Barou Shouei did not become the Ubers’ number thirteen  just to come only this far.

He’d gone back home to Japan after the loss last season for a week and stayed with you. Each time he leaves you, it gets harder and harder. But despite his loss, you were promoted to being a senior sports journalist. He was so proud of you, eager to see where your career would take you.

It seemed like the tables had turned and you were the one now traveling more than him. 

But you both make it work, right? With phone calls while you both are in opposing time zones, red eye flights just to see each other for a few hours… You try to go to Italy to see him whenever you can. Even with your increased responsibilities, his schedule is far more rigid than yours.

You’re so in demand now that it’s hard to keep up with two extremely busy schedules. Still- you’re here with your bright eyes and teasing smile, and he doesn’t want to lose a single second not looking at you.

It doesn’t feel like work when it’s with you. Even with the questions about game stats, Snuffy’s leadership, his future at the Ubers and the Ubers future in the league, it never feels like an actual interview. He used to hate giving these interviews until his coach told him he had to. What was the point of it? He’s not the captain, why does he have to deal with the press and the stupid questions?

Until his first interview was with you. 

Even now, when he knows that there is a mountain to climb over with you, it still feels the way it always does. Like a conversation. You’re focused on him, cracking jokes, and Shouei has always liked when your full attention is centered on him after all.

The last time you were in Turin, you didn’t exactly leave on a bright, hopeful note with respect to your relationship. In fact, you left in tears and had changed your flight timing at the last minute so that Shouei purposely wouldn’t be able to see you off. You didn’t want to see him just to fight once again. 

It left a sour taste in your mouth and despite that things are “normal” now, you still feel the fragility of your relationship. It rests in your hands like a delicate bird.

In the last two months, neither of you had brought up the dreaded fight. It’s not the first time this topic has arisen, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Your excuse for ignoring the issue was that you wanted to talk to him about it in person. His excuse was that if you had a problem then you’d bring it up on your own.

Your harsh words ring clearly in your head:

“Why is it so wrong to just want a little more? You live in Italy- I don’t think I’m asking for too much to go to Rome o-or Florence or Venice or literally anywhere for a few days during your offseason-”

“I can’t just go, everyone else trains during the off-season! How am I supposed to be the best striker if I’m going on vacation with you-”

“Oh, well, don’t sound so disgusted over the prospect of taking a few days off with me-”

“Come on, I didn’t mean that and you know it.”

“Do I? Do I know it? To me, it looks like you don’t want to spend any time with me outside of when it’s convenient for you. We get what? Maybe a few weekends a season? Are you good with a few weekends a season? And when you’re not playing, you don’t want to go anywhere with me. Am I your girlfriend or your sidechick, Shouei?”

“That’s not fair-”

“No, I’ll tell you what’s not fair. You want me to be happy with breadcrumbs.”

“You knew what you were getting into!”

“That’s such a cop-out and you know it!” 

Shouei looks at you with hardly any emotion on his face, save for the downturn of his lips. You close your eyes shut to calm yourself down so that you don’t say something you regret. He wants to reach for you, to comfort you even though he’s the one who made you cry. But his feet stay planted and he watches you crumple.

“Don’t cry,” he all but begs you, finally gathering you in his arms, “We’ll figure it out. Just… don’t cry-”

“I don’t know how to not be upset with you, with this,” you mumble tearfully as he rubs your back.

“I know,” Shouei says, curling a hand around your cheek, “I know.”

“Hey,” you mumble, with heated cheeks, “Happy game day, I guess.” You thrust a bouquet of fresh red roses that you picked up from your favorite floral vendor around the corner from the training grounds.

“What a loser,” Shouei says fondly, putting you in a light affectionate headlock, “You’re gonna make me late for warm-up.”

“Well, I’m such a big fan of Dortmund that this was my plan all along,” you reply, “If I can distract you, then they have a better chance of winning, don’t they?”

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, turning you in his arms to greet you properly.

“Heard Isagi’s out for blood and redemption today,” you murmur as his lips press against the column of your throat.

His ears perk up and he’s torn between questioning you about Isagi or ignoring Isagi’s name coming out of your lips.In the end, the striker in him wins. Just like you knew it would.

“That’s insider information,” you protest when he grumbles.

“What’s the point of having a journalist girlfriend if I get no secrets out of it,” Shouei glares at you, shoving your shoulder gently.

“The point is that you get this,” you take his hand and press it against your chest, “This,” you press his hand against your crotch, “And this,” finally, you press his hand against your ass. “And my charming, stellar personality.”

“Stop seducing me, you temptress,” he scoffs, pushing away your lingering lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Wouldn’t want to ruin your gameday ritual,” you reply, “I’ll see you later, honey. Have a good game.”

You turn on your heel to leave the locker room, but not before smacking his ass and giving him a kiss good luck.

This field, and every other field in the world, is close enough to home to you as your own barely furnished apartment in Tokyo is. Fresh grass, clean white lines and adrenaline swirls in the air as you stand in front of the camera, getting ready for the half-time program.

One of your favorite moments in front of the camera is when Julian Loki nearly bowled you over in pursuit of an overhead ball. He’d given you a quick side hug with a smug grin after the game, but ever since then, you’ve maintained a safe distance from the border of the field. The last thing you need is to cause a scene when you’re not even one of the twenty-two players on the field.

You’re wearing one of Shouei’s jersey under your emerald green blazer and you find it extraordinarily difficult to not turn your head to search for him as he walks off the pitch and into the tunnel for halftime. The Ubers are down by one goal and you can envision how tense his shoulders are while he mouths off at his defense for doing a “fucking awful job”.

It’s rare that you’ve ever gone down in the tunnel to see him while you’re on the clock. Chewing on your bottom lip, you debate on it. Should you, shouldn’t you… It’s not about you, is it? His frustration on the field? Even he could admit that he wasn’t playing at his best today.

If he was feeling unsettled about the lingering aftermath of the fight, he had every opportunity to open his stupid mouth anyway. How often are you supposed to have the same fight anyway? 

Oh, who are you lying to? In every universe, you want to have this fight with him. Because it’s him.

It’s just a rough patch.

You hope he can telepathically hear your words of encouragement from inside the tunnel.

[divide]

In the end, you don’t approach the tunnel but the Ubers end up winning the game in a comeback that has you and the entire stadium on your toes. Of course Shouei scored the equalizer and the winning goal with an insane fake out and a strike with incredible power, in true dramatic fashion.

You’re prepping in your tent to begin the post-game interviews with the captains of each team. Your heart is still racing from the last minute winning goal, seeing the strike sailing through the air behind your eyelids.

As Marc Snuffy walks into the tent with his chest heaving in exhilaration and a big grin, he’s roughly shoved to the side by none other than Barou Shouei. Before you can tell your cameraman to stop recording or before you can berate Shouei for nearly taking down your entire tent with his massive body, or for shoving his captain to the side like a sack of potatoes-

He crowds your personal space, giant hands cupping your cheeks and his thumbs rubbing your skin. His dark eyes dilate as he takes you in- his angel on the field in his jersey, his lucky number thirteen. You gasp in surprise as he presses his lips to yours cheekily, daring you to deepen the kiss.

You can vaguely hear his teammates hollering in the background, seeing their ever so serious striker kiss his mysterious, private girlfriend.

“Hey, I’ll see you at home, alright?” Shouei offers you a rare, small smile as he rubs your chin with his thumb.

All you can do is nod with a sheepish smile while your cameraman stares at you, stunned.

And when you watch the interview again, you flush at the reflection of your lovesick eyes and his yearning embrace.

Nerves oddly seize you as you approach Shouei’s luxurious apartment building. It’s about four times bigger than the size of your own. It reflects his soccer player status and salary, you suppose. He’s been here for just as long as he’s been playing with the Ubers but he seemed to only care about decorating it in the last year or so. Ever since you’ve been around.

He’d told you he’d see you at home. Implying that this was your home, too. In truth, it's not your home at all, but the notion still makes you feel funny. Like butterflies fluttering in your belly, as if you can’t believe he still wants to be with you. He never makes you feel like you’re too much, even when you doubt yourself.

You didn’t mean to make yourself almost cry as you approach his unit with hesitant steps.

Shouei yanks the door open nearly off its hinges exactly one second after you text him announcing your arrival. He immediately pulls you inside, takes your coat and your bag and ushers you out of your shoes. Then, he kisses you in greeting.

It’s different from the kiss he laid upon you at the field. It’s softer, more docile.

“I bet your dm’s are flooded after that stunt you pulled today,” you mumble against his lips, peering up at him while he scoffs.

“Yeah, my agent is getting paid her worth today. At least one of us is private on social media,” Shouei says, sighing into your embrace as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I guess I’m happy to be your mystery girl until the day comes.”

Shouei stares at you long and hard, his lips in an imperceptible line. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares straight through you with darkened nearly red eyes, reaching into the layers and layers that you attempt to hide away from him. It’s not like you to be quiet and demure around him but you’re on unsteady ground. The words don’t come out of your mouth, wilting in your throat like dried up sunflowers.

But you look over his shoulder briefly, peering into the open space that leads into the kitchen and the dining room only to see two lit candlesticks and a bouquet of your favorite flowers at the center of his dinner table. A romantic burgundy glow illuminates the room along as the purple and orange streaks from the sunset filter in through the windows.

The question is written all over your face as you struggle not to let your bottom lip quiver. You’re usually the one who’s adept at words, but here you are unable to formulate a single one. 

“Stop crying,” he says gruffly, already wiping at your cheeks. You sniffle and laugh wetly as you hide your face from him.

“We both live in this insane world. I don’t want it to pull us apart like it has for so many others. And we can’t give up our careers but I can’t give up on you either,” you admit, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

“I know,” Shouei says simply, “We left on a shitty note last time, and I’m not heartless you know. At least, not for you.”

He grins wolfishly at you when you chuckle. He remains quiet for a beat, rubbing his thumbs into the nape of your neck soothingly until your sniffles lessen. Fidgeting with the collar of your sweater, Shouei hesitates.

“Uh,” he begins, “I got this rental in Venice, in June. It’s still a few months out, but you know…”

“You really want to go? With me?”

“No, I want to go with Isagi,” Shouei says flatly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “If you’re asking if I want to go with you then I’ve done something wrong here.”

“At least you finally admit it,” you shove his shoulder. It’s a beautiful rental, with big windows and a great view of the city and the water. You’re already thinking about the gondola rides, the nighttime walks, the music. All of it with Shouei.

“And you made dinner and set the table,” you pinch his cheeks (he grimaces), “You are a romantic, after all…”

“Don’t make such a big deal about it, loser,” he scoffs. He kisses you gently as he wraps himself tightly around you. You sigh into his lips happily, already feeling lighter than when you landed in Turin not even seventy-two hours ago.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply with a sparkling smile. 

Shouei makes a vow to himself to never make you cry in Italy ever again. Twice in two trips was more than enough.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hugging Dethklok Hcs

depending on how im feeling after posting this i think i might make a second part including side characters (likely the second post will contain charles abigail and knubbler !! and maybe even some smaller characters that i feel deserve more love) anyways uhuhuh first official MTL post except it.. actually isnt, ive written for knubbler and the dethklok minute host before so yeah very nervous about this since im still trying to find my footing in how i wanna write the characters, so heads up that this might be VERY OOC and what better prompt to do than do one of my "i dont know what to write" ones written with reader as their partner vague mentions of like. sexual stuff but nothing explicit, i still wish to keep this blog as sfw as possible, really just implications of it than anything also some characters had bonus hcs of cuddling so uhuhuh

NATHAN:

built like a mattress, though that can mean anything since not all mattresses are made the same... hmm.. have you ever hugged/cuddled one of those tiny headed kingdom plushies? very firm but not comfortable, i think thats what nathan feels like, but perhaps just a smidge softer. but how would nathan feel? i mean hes very protective of you, and being able to hold you gives him a moment to keep you close. not very affectionate otherwise, but this is nice. definitely the type to do hugs from behind, especially if theres someone trying to flirt with you

PICKLES:

short so theres a good chance youre around his height if not taller and he may or may not feel things about that (both negative and positive but lets save that for another post as i fully intend on keeping this sfw), i always thought pickles of being physically affectionate so him having a hand on you is a common occurrence. probably takes the opportunity to whisper something in your ear, usually something dirty or something incoherent with him being drunk or otherwise under the influence. oh yeah i can easily see him being the type to swing his limbs over his partner while he sleeps and trapping them there

SKWISGAAR:

maybe im cooking something doodoo, but i feel like skwisgaar may or may not struggle with non-sexual stuff, like being purely romantic and innocent with no intent to get your pants off is foreign to him. i whole heartedly believe the reason hes so sexual is due to being in dethklok and being huge, but also because of his mother constantly bringing new people home. so in the beginning he might actually be tense in giving you affection, definitely going to need to take some time. very cold, skinny people tend to be colder ive noticed so totally you shouldnt take this as an excuse to hold him closer (winks)... i DO think he would also have a hand on you a lot of the time like pickles, whether or not those hands have other motives is up in the air

MURDERFACE:

make him take a shower first/j

okay jokes aside, this man is so starved for attention and affection, but he would never ever EVER say it. you guys could be 100% fully alone in bum fuck no where and he still wouldnt say it. but its definitely there in his actions and body language. i think hes warm, and his skin is a little... i mean he canonically has dry skin with eczema, and while i dont have eczema i know what having that dry scaly skin feels like... perhaps we could tie in some self care with the reader helping murderface take better care of himself? i mean it would be one hell of a fight to get him to try but i think its do-able.. tight hugger, kind of lets his arms linger before sliding them down when you eventually pull away. wish i had more but i think murderface is the type to deny affection whilst also deeply craving it

TOKI:

probably the easiest to hug in terms of getting him to accept it, actually i think he might be the most likely to initiate one alongside pickles. very warm, though he sometimes hugs you a little too tight and might even tug you back in if you try to pull away before hes ready. full body cuddles into you when you guys sleep/nap together, arms and legs keep you in place so... good luck trying to slip away before he wakes up. i like to think he fiddles with your hair, too, though im unsure if that fits with his character... i think that, despite still having a love for all things brutal he still likes these smaller moments of just. affection. very clingy and possessive though so keep that in mind, i think he would hold you and physically try to pull you away if someone tries to flirt with you; a lot less subtle than when nathan does it

[its-time-to-write]

Hi love! Im obsessed with your writing. They actually make my whole day!!

I was wondering if you could do something with like protective!Jamie? Like maybe they’re out at a club and some guy won’t leave her alone!

Whatever you like? Thank you!

I did it! I didn’t know what gif to put with this. Wasn’t sure I’d finish it this weekend, but I got it done! I have finals next week, which either means I’m going to have a bunch of time or none at all. And again, thank you for being so kind. Many anonymous requests are not. 💚🍊

don’t go yet

Roy only lets Jamie go to the club when Richmond has won, which is why you’re both dressed up tonight. 

“You can have two drinks. Not fucking four, not fucking three, two. And if you fucking go over, your girlfriend will fucking tell me,” Roy had said.

Jamie had relayed this to you, more than a tad scandalized, but you just shrugged and said, “Roy’s not wrong.”

So now you’re at the club and Jamie’s had one drink that he’s been making last way too long, but he’s finally downed it and you’ve offered to grab him another one. Dani’s in the middle of some hilarious story about his old team, involving shaving cream, an unsuspecting coach, and… snails? Anyway, Jamie’s deeply invested in whatever it is which is why you’re at the bar waiting for your drinks and he’s sitting down. 

You’re contemplating what you want to do to Jamie once you get home, when an unfamiliar body sidles up to the space next to you.

You half-turn away to give him more space, but he just moves closer so you give him a look. The man, oblivious, says, “Hello gorgeous, name’s Max. What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

Any distaste you had been stifling out of politeness ends. “I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend,” you reply shortly. 

Max makes a show of surveying the room. “Don’t see him,” he says, “so I suppose you’re fair game.”

Your drinks appear, and you grab them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hey now, I’m only trying to be fucking friendly. Your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” He’s now blocking your path back to Jamie. You try to dodge around him, but he won’t let you. 

Max does not like that, and he snarls, “Don’t be such a bitch, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind me having a turn, especially if he lets you out of the house looking like that.”

Your words catch in your throat, and before you can look around for help, there’s a tap on Max’s shoulder. 

“Oi mate,” says Jamie, voice calm but eyes simmering with rage, “pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”

Max turns to assess Jamie and you dart past him, behind your boyfriend. “And what’s it to you, shithead?”

Oh god. The last thing Jamie needs is to get into a fight tonight. You know that Nate would love nothing more than to bench Jamie whenever an opportunity presents itself. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “let it go.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at you. “I’m her boyfriend, shithead.”

Max’s eyes betray a hint of surprise, then before you or Jamie can do anything he moves to shove Jamie. Jamie tenses up for a push that never happens, because Isaac has shown up from out of nowhere and has grabbed Max from behind. 

“Time to go, bruv,” Isaac says as he and Dani haul Max away.

Jamie fists are still clenched as he turns to you. Despite the anger on his face, his voice is gentle. “You alright, love?” 

You nod wordlessly and hand Jamie his drink. He takes both of them and puts them down. Your brain is playing catch-up because everything happened so fast.

“You wanna go?” he asks.

You nod again then shake your head. “No!” you protest, “This is your night out!”

Jamie’s hands are on your waist now, and you’re a little grateful because it’s grounding. You’re still reeling a bit.

“Babe,” he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, and you are too. And don’t fuckin’ lie, it ain’t gonna work. You’ve got little circles under your eyes. Let’s go home.”

You shut your mouth and sigh. That boy. He knows you too well. 

On your way out he says, “Can we do face masks? Can feel me face losing its sexy glow.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. Only Jamie can make a shit night into something good.

[ickle-anthology]

I’d like to be optimistic and say this will be short and sweet, however it has grown increasingly apparent that I do nothing by half measures. I suppose if you’re going to do a job - do it properly. Go big or go home, right? 

I’m trying to learn how to set healthy boundaries, which is extremely challenging for an empath that feels everything as deeply as I do and has been through the things that I’ve been through. I suppose my need to people please stems from wanting to help and lighten the load in anyway possible for the people I care deeply about at the expense of my own peace. It’s even more unbearable when I have walked in their shoes with and know what it’s like when you have nowhere to turn to, unfortunately helping doesn’t always go the way I intend but at-least I can say I tried and gave it my all, and by doing so leaves my conscious clear and unburdened. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of awful things in my life, some worse than others and some that have left lasting scars that I’m still sowing up- but I actually quite like me, however I acknowledge that there’s always room for improvement. I have a long list of things that I can’t change but would happily sell my soul to the devil to alter. I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that some things aren’t meant to be changed and that no response is a response. Let’s be honest, you can’t be everyone’s cuppa tea otherwise you’d be a mug. 

You ever known what you needed to do but struggled to find the strength to do it? That’s the current predicament I’m faced with. The past few weeks I’ve had a lot of time to digest and reflect on the changes that have happened in my life - recent and not so recent changes. Up until recently, I considered myself to be a healed woman but I realise now that healing isn’t a linear path and the more I experience different things, the more I realise I’m still on that healing journey - and that’s ok, being honest with myself about it is probably the best thing I can do. I like to think I always look for best in people, that I can feel the good in them. But like with anything in this universe, there must be balance and everything that goes up, must come down eventually... I see the undesirable and distasteful flaws too, I don’t look at the world through a looking glass and I’m not as naive as some people may choose to believe. I have this uncanny ability to read people like books, and without a doubt my silence gets mistaken for an absence of knowledge, when it’s quite the opposite in fact. I’m a firm believer that you shouldn’t open your mouth and comment on something unless you know it’s accurate and have the ability to back it up. So with that statement, if you are on the receiving end of me opening my mouth about a subject, then prepare to be slapped with the unbias, and unadulterated truth - which as we know, can be more cold and callous than any lie. Everything I do, I do for a reason. I strategically and methodologically analyse every situation and every possible outcome of it so I am able to understand it but ultimately protect myself. One of my favourite quotes is that ‘the truth always prevails in the end’ and boy does it ever. 

It grows more evident the older I get that this ability I have to read people is an unconscious decision that stems from being hyper vigilant. It does present its problems though, like causing the feeling of being constantly stuck between the stages of fight, flight or freeze, it’s a blessing and a curse - one would say oxymoronic at its true core. Life has always been so black and white for me, and learning grey has been exhausting, both mentally and physically but truly worth it in hindsight. Im allowing colour to trickle back into my life slowly though and it’s given me the foresight to see the world (and the people in it) in a different light, just like a kaleidoscope. Up until a few years ago, I was always so sure of the person I was, but the past few years really made me question everything I know about people… myself included. I got hurt by people that I never thought were capable of the things they did, and lost people that I thought would be in my life indefinitely. Some things have become so deeply imbedded in my soul that they occasionally weep, so I guess you could say nothing ceases to surprise me anymore. I always say that I’m going to hope for the best and prepare for the worst but preparing for the worst has become somewhat of a ritual for me and I grow evermore cautious of hope with each passing day. 

Without a doubt, the biggest and hardest pill to swallow as of recent months has been that not everyone has a good heart just because I do. More importantly, just because I treat people with kindness, understanding and compassion, doesn’t mean I’ll receive the same treatment back. I’ve realised that over the past few weeks that it reflects more about them and their character, than it does me. Not everyone has the same moral compass as me, nor everyone has a big heart full of love like me and some people are only interested in saving their own skins - don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with protecting your peace. But there’s a difference between protecting your peace and remaining silent and then lying and stonewalling those individuals, especially when they try to communicate in a healthy way with you about a problem. We all mess up, but I think what’s important is owning your behaviours. It’s come to my attention that not everyone I’ve crossed paths with have spent the time looking at their own maladaptive coping mechanisms. They haven’t given themselves the respect to understand or recognise where the dysregulation stems from, and as a direct result from that, it allows for an inability to correct their behaviour at its root stem and be better in the future - so they are just stuck in the same cycles. I’ve realised that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink, and if this is the bed they chose to make then let them sleep in it. Theres nothing wrong with feeling emotions in that precise moment though and giving yourself time to sit in your grief, but I emphasise that no joy ever comes from wallowing in them for prolonged periods of time and there is a time where you will have to deal with those feelings and situations head on before they swallow you whole. 

I think for now I’ll enjoy sitting back, remaining humble and continue to people watch. They say time heals all wounds but I think time only gives us the ability to reflect and process those wounds. If we don’t deal with the monsters under our beds, and the damage they cause to ourselves and others, then they never really go away - they just get better at hiding by wearing a mask. Inevitably, they always trickle back in and just like clockwork, they always come full circle. Poetically, it’s always at the least desirable moment and before you know it, you’re weeping through the cuts you scrambled so desperately to bandage. The right path is not always the path with least resistance, we all know what we need to do but it’s just finding the strength to do it. You really do get back what you put into the universe.

[modawg]

omfg i just accidently deleted an ask abt percy being suicidal when i was trying to respond WTF bruh im so sorry but this is for you i hope you see this it was anon sorry pookie

the q was simply “is percy suicidal?” and asking for context

ok so basically no one has every come out and said “percy is suicidal” rick has never said this through what i know HOWEVER

it is smth that is deeply written into the text of the series not that he’s actively grabbing a knife or smth but that he is VERY prone to this line of thinking

many ppl point to the beginning of pjo when percy would pretty often talk abt dying and wanting to die or allowing himself to drown or just dark humor in that way; when i first started reading it was smth i never really noticed as anything other then a dramatic tween but once you get to hoo (along with looking at the amount of insecurity and low self esteem percy has in pjo) it kinda hits a limit

in hoo there’s an entire scene where after getting out of tartarus he’s fighting some bitch i forget who (polybotes) and gives up not trying to protect himself when he was literally in his element and later admits to jason that he thought he deserved to choke on poison

and DIE like it’s not like he’s saying “meh yeah i thought i’d give up and give them a chance 💯💯” like he is fully aware that stopping would kill him and he was going to allow that to happen

you could also pair this with percy almost drowning both himself and annabeth in tartarus with this; after they land in cocytus (river of depression literally) annabeth (though extremely distressed) has a pretty decent time swimming and staying alive in the water after the initial shock however percy almost fully gives up pulling them under and is much harder to break out of the “spell” (the voices)

a lot of this can be chalked up to traumatic events being tired or scared or all three but an easy gateway to suicidal ideations can stem from those things and percy’s been dealing with all of those the majority of his life

so yes and no if you want to say percy isn’t be my guest ? but this aspect of his life is such an interesting thing to pull apart because his reactions to the things he’s had to live through is one that’s extremely human and i feel like really breaths life into the sort of “reality” these characters live (if that makes sense lmao)

i feel like that last para sounded rude im not trying to be but idk how else to word that LMAO

and here’s the quotes (i recommend rereading pjo for the early stuff bc i’m not picking that apart but if someone else wants to they can)

if there’s anything else lmk and i won’t delete it next time i swear :(

[timetodecidedjo]

POOLVERINE NATION

i wrote it. i wrote the Friends fic.

i apologize in advance if it’s not as good as it could be, im a little rusty bc these 2 literally pulled me back into fic writing and i haven’t put anything out in years 🤣 it’s also not beta read so my apologies if it sounds jumbly and grammatically fucked up lmao.

if ya feel like reading some of my other work, you can read more on AO3, username xuaerduobb.

thank you for the motivation and for feeding into my fixation @greatsnakestintin and @avenging-captain ❤️💛

“Good morning!” Dopinder announced as he strolled into the apartment, a bit early to pick up Althea to take her to the grocery store. Logan typically did most of the since he was usually the one making all the meals, but every now and again, Al would want to get out of the apartment and do it herself. Al liked to hit the stores early in the morning before the crowds got to be too much, so Dopinder was instructed to be at the apartment for 7AM. He didn’t mind helping her out, and if anything, he really enjoyed the company.

Logan, just finishing making the three of them breakfast, sat down next to Wade at the kitchen table, his coffee now at an acceptable temperature. Wade was already suited up (sans the mask so he could eat) because he had a debriefing that morning at the Avengers Headquarters and was leaving right after he finished his breakfast. Logan took a sip of his black coffee from the Spice Girls mug he had found in the cupboard just as he felt Wade’s hand rest on his thigh underneath the table.The merc used his fingers to brush up against Logan’s blue flannel pajama bottoms, causing a shiver to roll up his leg. He took a deep breath as he soaked up Wade’s touch, trying his best to not arouse suspicion to the others.

You see, Wade and Logan, up until the last few months or so, had been at each other’s necks, bickering and squabbling at everything and nothing. Eventually, one magical night when they were both out working a small job over a few days in another city, it happened. After a long night of working a stakeout, they retreated back to the crummy motel they were staying in and had the talk. You know, the talk two people have when they’re both deeply in love with each other but won't admit it. It was the talk where you stay up all night just happy to be there to listen to what the other has to say, even if it’s mostly utter nonsense. Truthfully, both men had grown so tired of the constant fighting that was really just flirting in disguise. Logan had been the one to initiate the kiss that would turn into months of secret sex capades all the while they were falling more and more in love with each other. It had been absolutely perfect with no one else butting in on their developing relationship, and let’s face it, the sneaking around was a hell of a lot of fun too. They just wanted to keep it for themselves for a bit while it was still so new, so they couldn’t mess things up just yet.

“Punching the clock early this morning, DP?” Dopinder asked as he sat down on the old tattered couch in the living room. He turned his body to the side so that they could still talk from across the room.

Wade took a big bite of his scrambled eggs and swallowed them down with a sip of coffee made just the way he liked it. Logan always got it right.

“Crime doesn’t take a day off, Dopinder. Someone has to stay vigilant to protect the world against evil. You know, like wicked senators or money hungry Girl Scouts.”

“I truly admire your willingness to stand up for the little guy, Mr. Pool,” Dopinder grinned, stars practically shooting out of his eyes.

Logan rolled his eyes and groaned, looking over at their friend across the room.

“He’s going to a meeting, don’t feed into his bullshit.”

The merc glanced over at Logan and then at the imaginary audience in front of him.

“He’s just jealous because he’s basically my house husband now, but it’s fine. We’ll talk about it later in couple’s counseling, which we both desperately need, but not for our relationship. Mostly because of all the other life altering trauma.”

“Welp. Daddy’s off to work, kitten,” Wade said as he stood up from the table with his mask in his hand. The merc leaned down to plant a big juicy kiss on Logan’s lips, wanting to savor it as much as he could before having to leave for the day. When their eyes met, Logan looked at Wade with so much love and adoration… until both idiots finally realized what had just happened, and boy, did it hit them both like a ton of bricks. As far as everyone else knew, Wade and Logan didn’t kiss and they weren’t romantic with each other. Wade was no stranger to being touchy feely with pretty much everyone, but this wasn’t just being touchy feely and this wasn’t just anyone. This was Logan. This was Wade and Logan.

Wade, making an executive decision, walked around to the other side of the kitchen table and took Al’s chin into his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Have a great time at the supermarket, Althea. Make sure to grab some more French toast sticks. We’re running low.”

“What the fuck! What the hell was that about?!” Al screeched in her chair as she tossed her fork down onto the plate, causing a sharp pang in everyone’s ears.

Wade continued on his kissing rampage and planted a big one right onto Dopinder’s mouth, a total look of shock and horror plastered all over his face.

“Dopinder! Always a pleasure!” The merc chimed and walked away as he pulled his mask over his cancer ridden face. Logan stood up and followed Wade out of the door, keeping his cool as best as he could and trying to play all of this off as if it was nothing but Wade being Wade. He shut the door behind them and smacked his boyfriend on the shoulder.

“I understand why you did what you did and I appreciate it, but did you have to kiss Al? She’s fuckin’ blind, idiot!”

Wade just stood there and stared at his lover for a second, probably the longest he had ever gone without saying anything while he was conscious.

“Do you not remember when she almost caught us a few weeks ago? She hears everything, honey badger. Everything! The walls are paper thin. I had to cover my bases.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, The Wolverine sighed and smacked his hand to his face, knowing full well he was going to have to try to come up with some kind of story where he stabbed Wade in the hallway for kissing him.

“Please come home to me in one piece,” Logan pleaded when he looked up, using his best puppy dog eyes.

With one swift movement, the merc had pulledc his mask off to give Logan one final kiss until he could come home later in the day.

“Always, peanut.”

[hunterbunter3000]

I think it's also about the way sweetheart touches them. She's gentle with them, which is something rare for absolutely all of them. Sweetheart doesn't assume because they're in the military that they don't need kindness and support and delicate hands. She knows they already think that they don't deserve anything like that so when she sees them wanting it and craving it, she is so willing to give. Her love cup is so full for her team and the people she cares for.

She handles ghost like he's still just Simon Riley, a sad kid deep down. Sweetheart offers up affection that she can just feel is so foreign to him. Yes he can take care of himself but everybody knows it doesn't extend beyond the basics and she takes time to try to heal his aches and pains that he's gotten so used to living with

She's delicate with price, knowing how hard he's worked to keep the team alive and well. How most of the time, he gets no recognition for his efforts. Sure, she teases him and calls him an old man when he complains about his back but in the same breath is offering a massage to get the ever present knot out

She's attentive with soap, hating how he looks like a sad puppy when people try to brush him off as a loud and brash grown up child. She wants him to hold on to that because she knows if it goes away, he'll seem like a shell of himself. She's seen what too long in the field can do to someone like johnny and how it can change them for the worst so she always encourages his jokes and such.

She helps gaz as much as she can. She sees how he pushes himself and how it sometimes ends up in neglect of himself. How many meals has he missed due to trying to just get one more thing done? How many hours of sleep has he skipped to try to figure something out? With a firm hand, she always guides him into taking care of himself and to give himself a much needed break.

IM RAMBLING IM SORRY

AAA NOOO DONT BE SORRY- DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR RAMBLING THIS IS AMAZING 💖✨️✨️💕

(I'm terribly sorry this took so long- BUT GARRICK'S IS PRETTY LONG SO ITS A WIN WIN-)

But holy cow I agree with this so much

Tw: mentions of depression, insecurities, trust issues

I'm really gonna start with Soap because what you said is her biggest fear. She cares deeply for Mactavish and always pays a little bit more attention to him than the others because of that terror.

It would be a nightmare if she didn't see the life in his eyes anymore. Her heart was already broken when her second uncle came back a zombie from being in the army. Didn't talk to anyone, and if he did he would always snap at them. He loved his family still. He really did. But the happiness, and the compassion was gone. He couldn't let go of the guilt, of the regret he had in his choices. He didn't really talk about it, but when he did Sweetheart could see the black tar oozing out of his mouth. All the internal pain and suffering. She doesn't want to see Soap be like that, since their personalities are quite similar. Fun, chipper, determined and kind. She will protect his internal being with everything she has, just like she did with her uncle. So she will always laugh at his jokes and add on to them, making them both double over. She will always stand up for him when someone calls him loud and brash. Telling him it's okay to express yourself how you want to.

If she fails, if she even sees the shine leave his eyes for a second, she knows she failed her uncle again and will never be the same.

--

Now with Ghost-- GOOAAHHHHDDDD he needs all the hugs and cheek kisses he can get (and really just hugs) he doesn't like to be touched unless he knows you knows you (kinda like König and Roach) it took Sweetheart a WHILEE to get close to Ghost. Yes, he did have a small soft spot for her, but he would NOT let her touch him. It took like five months just to let her touch his shoulder. Because of his insane trust issues and paranoia, he didn't let her get close. He couldn't. He couldn't risk getting hurt from Sweetheart. Kind, charming, thoughtful, Sweetheart. Caring, strong, smart, Sweetheart. He craved for her touch so badly that he knew it was what he needed, but he couldn't handle the pain afterward. But there was no pain when she first hugged him when he came out of that explosion alive. There was no pain when she held his hand through his panic attack. There was just warmth. And love. Through every touch she gave him, it spoke of love and care. She gave him time. She gave him so much patience so he could trust her. So he could love her. And he does.

Price-- that man deserves a hundred medals I swear. As you said, he gets no recognition of his effort from anyone, because that's what he's supposed to do. He's supposed to get everyone out alive, he's supposed to succeed everytime. It's just built in the job with that expectation. But Sweetheart knows in order to keep that kind of task going, he needs support. And my god, does she give it to him. Always patting him on the back and saying good job. Checking for any injuries, and if there are, she would fix them. Listening to anything he's talking about and giving her opinions on it. Giving him some tea and something to eat if he's up late. And just giving him any form of affirmation. He deserves it. He deserves all the support, the back rubs, the massages and the teasing, the tea and the naps, all of it. And Price is so grateful for it. If she wasn't there for him, no one would be.

Kyle. Gaz. Garrick. Goodness, that boy has put so many expectations on himself that NO ONE ELSE has put on him. It's weighing him down. Since he's the youngest and has less experience than everyone else, he thinks that he has to catch up to everyone else or be better than them in order for people to see him. See him being one of the members of Task Force 141. The best of the best, right? Like Sweetheart? How she carries herself through chaos, how she handles dire situations, how well she works with others, how physically, mentally, and emotionally strong she is? Can he be skilled like Sweetheart? Calm and collected like Ghost? Well-armed like Soap? He doesn't know. His insecurities are always getting the best of him, making him forget to brush his teeth. Or eat breakfast. Or even get out of bed. Is he even fit to be on this team? Sweetheart knocks on his door. Is he even worthy? She knocks again. He has so much to catch up on. She opens his door. How will he catch up to them? She sighs, walking towards his curled up figure on his bed. He's in their shadow. Maybe he should leave. Sweetheart comes into his view, shocking him. She has a slight concerning face, but more anger than anything. Angry that he hasn't been taking care of himself. Concerned on why he hasn't been taking care of himself. She grabs his hand and brings it to her lips, closing her eyes. His entire body feels warm. Awake. She breathes in and opens her eyes back up. She urges him to get up. Get up and take a shower. His brain says no, but his body is moving subconsciously. She waits outside the Men's Bath Unit until he's done. She waits for him, quite closely, when he's brushing his teeth; Sweetheart tells him not to forget to brush his molars. She waits for him when he dresses himself in clean clothes, still in the same room as him, just turned. She waits for him to finish eating a big breakfast, which he eats fully. All with silence. All with a neutral face. Yet her actions are firm. Caring. Helpful. She sits him down on his now cleaned bed, the help of Sweetheart, and they just... talk. Talk about what's been going on, talk about why he feels this way, and when. It helps. She's giving her opinions on what he can do to be better, but it's up to him to take them. She sighs, eyes studying him. 'I hope I'm not crossing any boundaries with you. But I couldn't sit aside and let you make yourself disappear. Especially when you're valued as a teammate and a friend.' She says. Gaz feels like crying. And he does. He hugs so tightly. Tight enough that she could feel his appreciation through his touch. He's thankful that she saw him. And she continues to see him.