#love these guys theyre so scout

[dobythealpaca]

thinking a lot about tf2 but eviler and gayer and made these two,,,

only a few sketches as of rn but there WILL be more cuz i am ill and its become its whole own thing now

[randomminty]

Yippee

[sodademon]

fan of the new wave of outfits. if it do say so myself

[racmune]

you're too pure to be a killer

[hacksawboy]

some of us r sane and the rest of us spend 5 hours drawing their tf2 ocs

i was gonna do more but um. no. not right now. another day mayhaps.

anyways i finally finished vampire medic and i also designed scene scout which was an idea i never talked about but ive had in mind for a bit xD yeah i hope u enjoy :)

[reptil-enjoyer]

Doing all the work in the Scout/Scout nation is hard 'cause you end up becoming insane

[sheyfu]

in sleepless nights, i find solitude in you

FEATURING itoshi sae, itoshi rin, oliver aiku, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, and shoei barou

CW oliver aiku

SYNOPSIS what they like to do on sleepless nights with you

NOTE these are hcs and are not reflective of their characters!

⋆˚✿˖° itoshi sae - hearing you talk about your day

- a mundane, yet intimate moment between you two - he finds it so endearing when you talk about your day and get so passionate about it too - he just loves hearing your voice; the way you speak, the way your voice just sliiightly raises when you’re telling him about some person you abhor (big boy word), and the way you ask him for his thoughts on something you’re yapping about makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the whole world - you both end up not sleeping D: but it’s okay, he’s not complaining because it’s you

⋆˚✿˖° itoshi rin - binge watching horror movies

- you hate him for this. - but at the same time, you love it because he holds you close to him - he knows you’re scared, especially when it’s ass o’clock in the evening (more like morning) and your room’s only source of light is the television. so he holds you tight :D - he has the urge to make fun of you because you’re oh so scared, but he stops himself from doing so because he loves holding you close

⋆˚✿˖° oliver aiku - holding you close to him (in his words, spooning)

- surprisingly, he’s not horny  - i guess bc of practice, he’s tired and he just wants to de-stress and go on about his night without tiring himself out more, you included (LMAO NOT ME SPEAKING LIKE IM GANG W GREEN GALLAGHER) - so he holds you close :D  - and its not like the hold you close and talk about stuff type either - literally the hold you close and sit in silence type with occasional kisses from him :D 

⋆˚✿˖° chigiri hyoma - gossip (okay so some of you probably don't tolerate gossip but gossip culture has been SUUUUCH a big part of my life that i cant help but associate it w chigiri im so sorry you can bitch slap me for this LMAOAOAO ANWYAYS)

- he loves gossiping. he usually has THE ggoat (greatest gossip of all time) - this usually ranges from people he works closely with, or people he knows but that person doesn't know him but for some reason the news reached him LMAOAAOA  - for some reason, he also has visual references??? like if theyre related to texting he has screenshots of their convo???? if irl, he has pictures????? YOU DONT KNOW HOW HE GETS THOSE 😭😭 (based this hc off my friend who has everything for some reason 😭😭) - and most of the time theyre literally so mind-boggling you have to stop him and walk around the room to calm your beating heart down - he also loves using a soundboard while doing so LMOAOAOAO

⋆˚✿˖° mikage reo - slow dancing

- ah yes. the typical rich boy activities. - but like even if he wasnt born in that class (GANG DONT TWIST MY WORDS IM NOT A CLASSIST WLANSISOS), he'd most likely still love doing this (idk theres smth about him that js makes me think he would love dancing) - in the kitchen, dimmed lights, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders, herb alpert playing in the background, and his lips on your forehead  - im leaving it at that :))

⋆˚✿˖° nagi seishiro - playing roblox

- typical nagi.  - what roblox games you ask? dress to impress. - he likes playing simple games at night. and those simple games dont include dress to impress :)) - buuuut. he still plays it because the satisfaction he gets from beating 12 year olds outweigh the stress he gets from said 12 year olds - he loves to duo with you - literally caseoh just more nonchalant - he also likes to play those 2 player tycoons :DD

⋆˚✿˖° shoei barou - baking

- his love language is quality time  - and what’s more quality than baking time >:D - hes not someone for consuming sugar at ass o’clock. but he’ll tolerate it bc it makes you happy :DD  - he has those #probakingskillz bc he used to bake TONS of stuff with and for his sisters (HE ALSO BAKES THEIR GIRL SCOUT COOKIES GRAHHHHHHHH) - you also make him wear those silly pink frilly aprons (you have matching aprons but instead of yours being pink and frilly its literally the opposite) 

© sheyfu on tumblr

[hanckocks-dagger]

Shake, rattle, and roll

masterlist

John Hancock x f!reader

Description: After three weeks on the road, you come home to Goodneighbor to find a sweet surprise from Hancock. Naturally, you fuck him about it. 

Tags: Such sappy smut guys, holy shit theyre in love, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not, no y/n, female anatomy

Warnings: smut! Pretty vanilla though, honestly, so nothing else to mention

Word count: 6K

Cross posted on my ao3

The last day of travel was always the worst; with the end goal in sight

The morning sun beat down on you, the trek from Lexington having seemed almost endless. There was only one thing on your mind as you marched over the Harvard bridge; Hancock's bed. You had the full intention of crawling right into it and staying there, comatose, for several days.

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. You needed to unload the spare weapons you'd picked up, throw those to KL-E-0. You also had some things to drop at Daisy's, some things to pass on to Ham for the Third Rail...

You pulled your pack higher onto your shoulders, ignoring the ache of your back from the weight of it, all the junk you'd decided to ferry back with you. The straps of the bag were sure to leave deep, painful indents in your skin, almost permanently rubbed raw after weeks of travel.

Downtown, you skirted between Diamond City outposts, making your usual wide berth around the city itself. Despite being human and technically welcome inside the city, you'd taken to avoiding it, as if their prejudice was infectious. You hadn't entered the gates in months by now, and even though you missed Power Noodles and stopping by the agency to bother Nick, you felt no real urge to step inside.

The inhabitants' paranoia, towards the institute and towards outsiders, made the air in the city oppressive. Compared to the freedom of Goodneighbor, even with all of its own problems, Diamond City felt tyrannical in comparison.

You made a wide berth around the old scrap yard, overrun by feral dogs, climbing a fire escape to reach the elevated turnpike.

The closer you got to Goodneighbor, the hard it was to push forward. With the end in sight, close enough that you could practically count the steps you had left, aware of every finite amount of energy you had to eke from your body. Still, you reused to break, pushing forward, hands wrapped tight around the straps of your pack, like a schoolchild with their brightly colored schoolbag

Just a little further. Just a little more. The turnpike turned North, and you had to duck and pause as some gunner scouts passed, the highway connected to some high-rises, precarious wooden planks forming bridges.

Crouched down low, your calves burned, your fingers ached as you gripped your revolver, checking the bullet count on autopilot and lining up a shot, just in case you were spotted.

You weren't, the mercenaries passing from one end of the bridge to the other, wood creaking under their weight, loud, unconcerned conversation passing between them.

You sneaked past them in a crouch, knees and back protesting, familiar flood of adrenaline humming through your blood, heartbeat in your ears. The thrill stayed even once you were out of eyesight, until you'd shaken out your joints and rolled your shoulders, back to your brisk pace.

One of these days, you promised yourself, zeroing in on the broken jaw of the freeway that you used to find your bearings, you'd find a way to make a portable Ham-radio. Staying away so long was making you half-insane. You hadn't heard his voice in over two weeks, and at this point you would have sold all the loot you were lugging around to see his face a few minutes sooner. You'd pay insane sums to be able to hear him on the regular while you were away. Joking, complaining, hell, even just reading off his fucking caravan logs.

The body of the freeway dropped to the ground, crumbling concrete surrounding a Gunner camp, probably the one those two idiots earlier were supposed to be protecting. Well, you thought, pulling a trip-mine from your pack, it wasn't your fault if they were fucking morons.

Behind the rusted body of a truck, you waited for the perfect moment to strike, listening with patience to the Gunners as they yelled and laughed, carefree in the way only over-confident assholes ever could be. On a different day, you would have attacked with something more complicated, something that could blast the entire camp in one go, but today, you were tired and homesick.

At the right moment, you activated the mine and tossed it, scurrying from behind your car to drop off the side of the freeway, landing in a crouch in an alley a street over from Goodneighbor, booking it as the mine went off and the yells changed from happy to panicked.

You'd often thought, as you and Hancock laid spread eagle on the bed, or sprawled over the couch, that between the two of you, you were by far the one more likely to turn feral. He was too clever, his mind too sharp, even dulled by drugs. You were the one running around the wasteland, scampering like some little creature, hoarding old-world junk, killing nearly indiscriminately. You survived on the high of your own adrenaline, surviving scrapes by the skin of your teeth, by clawing, biting, crushing, choking.

You held your breath until you could see the glow of the welcome-sign, neon arrow pointing at the door, like to the entrance of a dingy nightclub. It shone like a beacon even in the daylight, beckoning you home.

When your fingers touched the door, you swore you gained a second wind, the eerie stillness of downtown Boston turning into the hum of bustling Goodneighbor residents. You greeted the Neighborhood watch as you entered the town, and they variously tipped caps or winked at you, hands always on their guns.

Daisy's was full, the sure sign of a newly passed caravan. You spotted that Railroad guy, sipping from a bottle on the bench in front of the store, doing his usual job of completely failing to fit in by being almost unnaturally nondescript. That might work in Diamond city, but not in Goodneighbor.

Your steps were slow as you maneuvered through the crowd, aware of the pack on your back and the guns slung over your shoulders. You headed for Kill or Be killed, planning to unload some ammo and spare rifle you'd picked up. You kept your eyes peeled for that flash of red in your periphery, the heat that filled your chest whenever you were near him.

KL-E-0's store was empty, meaning she was probably on the second floor, conducting some less than savory business. You'd hustle out of there if you heard the sound of her laser powering up, but you decided to spare a few minutes.

You leaned your forearms onto the counter, taking some of the weight off your sore feet and back, eyes running over the visible apparel, wondering what things you should offload.

Sure enough, barely a minute passed before you could hear the wood creaking above you, footsteps descending the staircase and an achingly familiar voice:

"-Talk when my girl brings something new, call it a uh- personal favor."

You raised your head from where it had been lolling, that familiar voice sending a sweet ache through your chest and a giddy smile onto your face. His girl.

Hancock was turned away from you, speaking to KL-E-0, trusty shotgun in his hands.

If your pack had been lighter, you would have bounded into his arms and dragged him right back to the old State House. You would have indulged the exhibitionist in him, wrapped your legs around his waist and let him stick his tongue down your throat right there in the street.

Instead, though, you settled for walking over, supporting the bottom of your pack to keep it from rattling. KL-E-0's red eye flickered over to you for a moment, inscrutable as always, but she stayed quiet, allowing you to surprise Hancock as he chattered about the recoil of his gun.

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, smushing your face between his shoulder blades. You breathed him in, the familiar smell of tanned hide, cigarettes and that ever present old-museum-smell that he'd tried many times in vain to get rid of. You inhaled with a shudder, pressing a kiss to his back, feeling his momentary frozen shock melt away as he seemed to register who was touching him.

He spun in your arms, leaving you face to face with soft eyes and a softer smile, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Warm lips pressed to yours and you melted arms sliding up to hook around his shoulders, pulling him flush to you. A corner of your mind– or your heart– which had spent the past two weeks growling about being apart from him, finally quieted down.

"Is that your gun digging into my hip, or are you just happy to see me, love?" He asked you when you separated, leaving you to snort and hide your face in his shoulder, so giddy you thought you might burst with it.

You swallowed past your joy, composing yourself so that you could lean back and flick the tip of Hancock's tricorn-hat upwards, giving you a better view of those lovely dark eyes, always so emotive, crinkled at the corners.

"Good to see you too, Mister Mayor," You breathed, hands sliding from his shoulders down to his waist, backing out of KL-E-0's store, dragging Hancock along with you. He came willingly, not allowing even an extra inch between the two of you.

All thoughts of bartering, even your own body's complaints were forgotten, your heart singing. You blinked against the sunlight, convinced suddenly that the weather was reflecting your mood.

"What's your plan for the day?" You asked, when it became clear Hancock was too busy staring at you to say anything. The two of you seemed to be wandering in a leisurely pace towards the old State House, but you didn't care where you were going. You'd follow him around all day if you had to. You could be going right back into the Wastes for all you cared. You'd trail behind him as he did whatever he needed to do, collapse from exhaustion and let him carry you back to bed.

"Oh, you know," He said, pulling you up the steps to the Old State House, opening the door for you, ushering you inside, "Was gonna get high and mope around all day, waiting for you." He had no sooner shut the door than he grabbed you by your belt, pinning you to the wall, your heavy pack hitting the wall. "Probably drive Fahrenheit crazy with my pining–"

You hum, smoothing out the lapels of his coat as his hands wander.

"Now, I'm thinking we go up and let the whole town we're reunited."

"Sounds perfect," You agreed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pushing him gently in the direction of the staircase. He led the charge, half toppling over every step in his desperation not to let go of you.

The second you hit the landing he whisked you back into his arms again, hands restless as he squeezed your sides, traveled up your arms, touched your face, all before coming right back down again to squeeze your ass. Another breathy laugh escaped you, so happy you couldn't put your smile away even as you kissed him.

His hand slid up to your lower back, guiding you towards the bedroom, your lips still locked together.

you pulled away at the door as Hancock filled with the stubborn doorknob, always jammed right when you needed it to open. You keep your arms hooked around him, but you give a salute to the neighborhood watchman stationed in front of your door. His face stayed stoic, either used to yours and Hancock's antics, or from copious threats from Hancock. Both seem equally likely.

He did give you a nod, though, as Hancock crooned in victory, having managed to fling the doors open. You gave him a smile, right as Hancock grabbed your arms and pulled you in. You kicked the doors shut behind you, already laughing as Hancock showered your face with kisses, dipping you like a dancer.

You separated from him enough to finally drop your pack, which thumps to the floor. Your guns come off, placed down with more care, followed by your bandolier and scavenging jacket.

Hancock cracked the doors open as you busied yourself, calling out, "Make sure to keep all the riff-raff out today, yeah brother?" And then the doors were shut and locked. A peaceful quiet descending over you.

He takes your hands, pulling you to the center of the bedroom, leaving you bathed in afternoon sunlight peeking in from the open balcony door. The room was as clean as it ever was, five hundred years of grime that you'd long given up on trying to get rid of.

With the door open and the spring air flooding in, everything felt fresher, not weighed down by centuries of history, but just a normal bedroom. Your books had been stacked in neat piles on the dresser, where you could see one of your shirt sleeves peeking out from the drawer. The bed was newly made, and....

"Is that..?" You stared, taking in the sharp white color of the fresh sheets, looking brand fucking new. Not Commonwealth new either, no, this looked like the bleached and pressed sheets of a fucking prewar hotel.

Your eyes sought out Hancock's, expecting to find him grinning, boastful, the usual exaggerated ego coupled with his general cool-demeanor, but instead you found him looking... uncertain. One hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was... bashful.

"Where did you get this?" You asked, stepping over to the bed. You ran a hand almost irreverently over the fresh sheets, feeling the starched, crisp texture of it, not rotting and mildewed like almost everything was.

"Oh, a uh– new trade caravan passed through last week. From somewhere out west, they've been growing cotton and weaving shit.

As if in a trance, you started shucking off your clothes, not wanting to sully the fresh sheets with your blood and dirt stained layers. You only get as far as your outer shirt when Hancock's hands sneak back onto your waist, almost timid in their touch. You half wanted to slap them off in your urge to get naked, get under the sheets and let him touch you there all he wanted.

Instead, you spin around to face him, guide his hands under your shirt to the warm skin of your stomach. "You're an angel, you know that?" You said.

He laughed, "Only for you, sister. Devil to everyone else."

You laughed back at him, finally shedding your shirt. As you try to wrestle off your boots with the force of your heel, all the examples to the contrary fly into your head: Every kind action he'd done, every willingly shared drug, every situation where he'd chosen less violence than he needed to. The nights you'd spent watching him agonize over whether he was good enough for his community, whether he was making the right decisions.

Instead of bringing those up, you pecked his lips in thanks. With his 'help' (groping), you got your undershirt and bra off, leaving your torso bare.

You leant down to unlace your boots, your earlier attempts having been futile, but before you could Hancock had you off your feet, tossing you head first into soft, fresh sheets. He took over, hands trailing teasingly over the waistband of your pants before he turned to your boots, sliding them off and taking your socks with them.

You groaned, cheek smushed into the mattress, as nimble hands pull your pants down and off. Trailing fingers, tickling the backs of your naked calves, up into the hollow of your knees. You had to stifle a giggle as a feather light touch against your inner thigh made you jump.

The bed shifted as he climbed onto it, his legs bracketing yours, knees pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

Fingers on the waistband of your underwear.

"How about we get these off?" His voice, low and gravelly, suddenly hot in your ear. A gentle bite to the cartilage of your earlobe, the drag of fabric as your underwear was pulled down your legs and then tossed somewhere.

"You know," You breathed, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could crane your neck and tried to catch him in a kiss. You missed, but settled for kissing his shoulder, hovering just by your head. "I'm feeling a bit exposed here. You've stripped me bare and you're still clothed."

You turned underneath him, determined to get him to kiss you again, were met with his grinning face just above yours. "Well, let no one call me an unfair man," He said, sinking onto his haunches, just out of reach of your desperate mouth. He plucked his tricorn from his head, settled it onto your.

You raised yourself to him, stole a quick peck, languishing in every brush of his lips against yours. It was dangerous, how much you'd missed him on the road, pining to the point of distraction. The times you'd ducked into buildings to ease an ache brought on by reminiscing, imagining him besides you, or on you, or in you. Imagining him being beside you as you stumbled into firefights, imagined his hands patching you up, rather than your own.

"You didn't happen to remember to take any Rad-X this morning, didya?"

His words pulled you from your stewing. You groaned. In your excitement to get home, you'd completely forgotten.

"Can't we just... skip it? This once?" You asked, pulling on his collar, dragging him down to lie on top of you, his mouth in reach again. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, hooking one leg around his waist to ground him to you, keep him from getting distracted.

"You and I both know you'd regret that in the morning, sister."

He was right, the bastard. Spending your morning throwing up, hooked to a Rad-Away was not your ideal first day back. So, lamentably, you release your grip on him, hands and leg flopping to the side as he leant over to grab a bottle from the nightstand.

"I'm sure we can find something to... entertain you, while we wait for it to kick in."

You pouted, making a show of how frustrating his interruption had been, how desperate you were to get him back. Here you were, naked, spread-eagle and waiting, with patience you didn't have.

You watched, silently, as he dug into the bottle, drawing out two pills. As he stepped back over, you pulled yourself back onto your elbows, waiting for him to hand them over, or maybe deposit them into your mouth himself.

Instead, as he kneeled onto the bed, he put them into his own mouth, leaning over you to meld his lips to yours. You grabbed at him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to support your weight as you melted in his arms. Slowly, in long, deep, searing kisses, the pills moved from his mouth to yours. Once they were on your tongue, he pulled his mouth off yours, scarred lips shining with spit, and moved to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as you gather enough saliva to swallow the pills.

Rad-X was quick to kick in, but the effects weren't instantaneous, leaving the pair of you with at least ten minutes to kill. On a normal day, you would have been happy to spend those minutes making out, taking your time in stripping Hancock off his clothes, egging each other on with dirty words and dangerous fantasies. But you'd spent over three weeks away from Goodneighbor, over three weeks of precarious mental foreplay, dreaming of his touch at night, fantasizing of him in the day. Suddenly, even the prospect of radiation sickness was not enough of a reason to stay away.

You tore at his coat, rucking his frilly shirt out from under his sash, exposing his slim stomach. You watched the muscle there tense under your touch, as you ran cold hands over his hips, tugging him closer to you. With practiced hands, you made quick work of untying the sash at his hips, satiny fabric sliding from your fingers and onto the floor like a waterfall.

Hancock bit into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss and dig your nails into the skin by his hip bones in retaliation.

You pull his chin upwards, leading his mouth to yours again, keeping those teeth from doing any more damage just yet.

Your generous hands wandered, up and under his shirt, roaming over the breadth of his chest, feeling it expand as he inhaled. You nipped at his bottom lip, drawing out a rumbling groan, felt both in your mouth against his, and in the vibrations against your fingertips.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, bracketing his hips with your thighs, freeing his hands so you could tug his coat off. Your hands slipped up under his collar, pushing his narrow shoulders backwards, giving you enough leverage to push the heavy coat backwards, the heavy fabric thumping to the ground.

Sometimes, when Hancock looked particularly vulnerable, usually collapsed on one of his couches, bleary with the haze of jet, his outfit reminded you of a child playing dress-up. In ancient coat tailored for a man with broader shoulders, a hat fit for a pirate and a disdain for the sort power he wielded.

You pulled your lips off of his, formulating a plea that would get you what you wanted, what words would make him understand just how badly you  ached for him, just how unbearable the emptiness in you was. You pressed a chaste kiss to his sternum, bare but hiding in the ruffles of his shirt, and made a blind grab for the waistband of his pants, words suddenly elusive.

His hands stopped yours, stilling them just by the button on his pants, so close to their goal.

You whined, the sound almost entirely involuntary, tilting your head up to meet Hancock's gaze with your own, sure now that he was teasing you.

"John," You managed, "This is cruel."

His eyes crinkled, as if you were the one making the joke, as if you weren't the one burning from the inside out.

"Well, now, I can't have you destroying my reputation. I worked hard to be known as a generous lover."

"Then stop teasing and fuck me."

But he only snickered like a bawdy teenager, gentle hands guiding yours to grasp at the fresh sheets. You watched helplessly, heartbeat in your throat, as he stepped back, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before sinking to the floor in front of you, guiding your legs over his shoulders.

"This'll coast you over, sister."

He grabbed you by your thighs, tugging you closer until you could feel his breath on your [core]. Your thighs trembled, heels digging into his back, desperate to push him closer, to get his mouth where it needed to be.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled into fists, half convinced you would burst into tears if he didn't do something. You swore you could feel him laugh, right up against your pussy, unable to hear it over the rush of blood in your ears, a split second before his tongue was finally, mercifully, on you. The slick drag of it landing quickly on your clit, lapping at it teasingly, every strike on your nerves making you seize, already so worked up from being near him.

You cursed on an exhale, lungs burning, every nerve in your body sparking, your blood heating. There was an obscene slurping as he sucked hard against your clit, pressure just on the right side of pain, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Your head pushed hard into the mattress, Hancock's hat falling into your eyes, rendering the outside world suddenly dark.

Suddenly, all pressure vanished, making you let out a long, pitiful whine, releasing your death grip on the sheets to raise the hat and see what the ghoul would be torturing you with this time. You raised your head, found Hancock on his knees by the bed, looking at you with pure reverence, fingers running up and down over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs.

You could feel the way his ministrations had spread your juices, the way the skin at the meet of your thigh and pelvis were glued together, sticky, pulling at your pubic hair just enough to be uncomfortable.

"What are you starin' at?" You panted, trying to get his wandering mind back to the matter at hand.

He grinned up at you from his perch, "What do you think?"

Fingers, crawling slowly, teasingly, up your thigh, into the divot where leg meets hip, tickling. Then, slow, gentle strokes through your pussy lips, scooping up all your wetness. A teasing, fleeting touch across your clit, making you seize, arching off the bed with a whine.

Then, the slick, slow glide of those fingers inside you.

"F-Fuck," You huffed, meaning to say something more like 'fucking finally, you torturer'.

"Such a pretty girl for me," Hancock says, that sly purr sending its own spark up your spine, mixed with his fingers, a slow, tantalizing in and out, "Been thinking about you for  days,  love. All alone out there, with no one to help you out. Running back home, to me, to let me help."

His fingers stilled. You clenched around him, every muscle in your legs seizing, your chest heaving.

"Is that what you were doing?" His voice was delicious, closer now. There's a bite into the flesh of your stomach, just above your belly button and you tensed against it, squirming into his fingers.

"Yes," You breathed, grinding hard onto his fingers, willing something, anything, to put pressure on your clit. You try squeezing your legs together, but Hancock's arm is in the way. A pathetic whimper escapes you.

"Wanna tell me about it, sister?"

You get out a "Please," legs moving restlessly, trying to get him to do anything, go in our out, anything at all. Blindly, you reach out and get him by the back of the neck, trying to push him downwards. You can feel his smile against the skin of your hip.

"Nngh- mmm, yes, I thought of you. Every day I was away." His head sunk lower, chin resting on your pelvis. "Thought about this, or sharing a hit of jet, or letting you pour wine into my mouth."

His mouth found your clit again, and you were sure you could cry, feeling his tongue flicking at the little nub, fingers starting to move again, a slow, languid in and out.

You arched off the bed, hands gripping the back of Hancock's head, legs going over his shoulders, pressing into his back.

"Shit," You breathed, one hand shifting to grab his forearm. The pressure on your clit increased suddenly, sending a spark through you that left you limp. Your hands slid from their grips, spilling onto the bed.

You looked down, finding Hancock's eyes on you. Then, he twisted his fingers in a way you didn’t recognize increasing the suction on your clit until you felt like he was trying to give you a hickey. You gasped, fingers digging hard into the bed, fabric rustling in your palms, hips snapping upwards, further into his mouth.

"Wait, that felt– do it again," You panted, to which he happily obliged, tongue and fingers twisting in a way that lit a spark in your body, like the strike of a lighter. A few more repeated movements and you moaned, probably loud enough to wake the drifters in the attic. Hancock's free hand wandered up the bed, catching one of yours in his own with a gentle squeeze. A moment so sappily romantic it managed to push you over the edge, your orgasm cresting over you like a warm wave.

Slowly, with a few extra nips to your inner thigh, Hancock sat back. Face wet with you, mouth curved up into a smile. You squeezed your legs together, shading your clit from the open air, chest heaving as you recovered from over stimulation.

"Get up here, please," You called, voice languid, hands reaching out to embrace him, crush him to you, hold him there forever. He obliged, crawling up against you, the texture of his pants against your naked thighs sending goosebumps across your skin. He slotted perfectly into your arms, pressing his mouth to yours.

You ached for him, wanting to get him closer, to tangle with him until you were impossible to separate. You kissed him like you were starving, all teeth and desperation, hands moving to shove off his vest, to unbutton his shirt, to get him naked, get him closer. He helped you, tossing the vest and then the shirt to the floor, warm chest pressing to yours, your tits trapped between the two of you, his rough skin grazing against your nipples, heat building behind your sternum.

Between your bodies, you felt his hand work at his pants. You were pressed so close together that every fumble grazed against your core, sending shocks of heat through you. You were so overwhelmed with need you couldn't decide where to put your hands, sure you'd be more of a hindrance than a help if you tried to get involved.

He made quick work of it, tugging down his pants, followed by his underwear.

He lined himself up, your excitement mounting until you were sure you would come again the second he entered. He captured your lips in another searing kiss, and finally your hands moved without you having to think about it, settling low on his hips in an effort to drive him closer.

"Ready?" He asked, and you felt your mind flash back to your first time with him, a rushed affair after a night drinking with him at the Third Rail. Even then, as it was a desperate fumble to get naked as fast as possible, spread over the couch in his office, clawing and biting with ferality, both of you desperate to get closer, even then, he had paused, hands on your panties, and asked, in that same soft tone, if you were ready, as if he expected you to have changed your mind.

"Yeah, I'm ready," You breathed, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

It's a slow, slick, delicious glide that has both of you groaning. Something in you slots into place, all your frenetic energy calm, as you grip at Hancock's back, burying your face in his neck as he starts to move.

"God, that's so–" you gasped, unable to finish, unsure of the words. You hitched a leg up onto John's waist, dragged him in for another kiss.

His pace was achingly slow, his touches sickeningly sweet. You focused on the fullness of it, the way the glide and drag of it seemed to fill your lungs even as he stole your breath with his tongue.

You wanted to live in this moment forever, here with him, inseparable in every way, as close as you could be. Hancock's hips drove deep, making you arch your back with a gasp for air, his lips vanishing off yours. The pace stayed sweet, sentimental, and you relished every sound that came from his mouth, every trembling breath.

"Wait," you breathed, tapping his shoulder like a time out, "Lemme, ugh–" With a few moves, you've twisted the two of you around, him on his back, you supporting yourself over him. He looked up at you, eyes twinkling with pure adoration, as you settled yourself with your legs under you, hands moving to his chest so you can keep your balance.

You settled yourself down onto his cock, your hips flush with his, and his hands found your waist, squeezing with that same softness. You set a pace, still calm, but decidedly faster, enough that your tits jiggle as you move.

"If this is some fucked up hallucination," Hancock rasped, voice choked, "I swear I'll lay off the drugs."

You laughed, breathless, grinding down to find that perfect spot inside you, hitting it over and over again, until the pleasure of it turns the inside of your eyelids white and your hands buckle, give out.

Arms caught you, of course, Hancock flipping you back over, managing to land that sweet spot again, enough that the tension spreads across your body, every muscle tensing up as you moaned, inches away from your second orgasm. His fingers on your clit do the trick, a few tight circles and the tension suddenly seeps out of you, a long, silent exhale. He fucked you through it, pace slowing down as you catch your breath.

You lean up to capture his lips again, grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to speed it up, to chase his own pleasure, relishing in the way his pace grows frantic, sloppier.

He gripped your wrists, bringing them over your head, held tight in his hands. Your torso lengthened, chin tilting upwards, exposing the length of your neck to him. He pulled away from your mouth so you take the chance, craning your neck upwards to nip at his skin, finding the soft tendons and sucking hard.

Through gasping breaths, he asked, "Where– nngh– where do you want me?" Your legs tightened around him, hands clawing at his back, using all the strength you had to keep him where he was.

Already, you can feel the way your own pressure is building back up, the way the repeated slide of it drives you right back to the edge.

"In– in me," You gasped, muscles shaking as he managed to hit that perfect spot in you over and over, back arching clean off the bed. You still weren't ready to let him go, even as you neared your third orgasm, still desperate to keep him where he was.

"Are you–"

"John," You cried, his hips slowing as he stopped again to check, your welfare always at the front of his mind. Sure, it would leave you raw and burning, making the next round a bit more pain than pleasure, but all you could think about was keeping the sensation of him imprinted on you as long as possible. "I'm sure, please."

He rutted against you, hips grinding against yours. His head dropped to your shoulder, gasping against your sweat slicked skin, two fingers sliding down against your throbbing clit.

You whimpered against him as pleasure flooded your body again, your grip on him weakening as your muscles shook, legs slipping from around his waist.

You mumbled words of praise as he came, hands roaming around his back, onto his cheek, your whispers of, "So good, so perfect, you're perfect, baby," audible only to him as he moaned. You felt the heat of him inside you, the slow building of fullness even as he softened.

You felt the slow, familiar tingling that preceded the lightly burning pain that would start. You felt Hancock shifting out of you, his mouth twisted into a guilty frown in the skin of your shoulder.

You clenched, feeling the slow dribble of heat spilling onto your skin.

Hancock's lips traced a path across your shoulder, down your arm, the occasional wet smack or nip at your skin pausing his journey. He detached himself from you slowly, regretfully, as if taking his skin off yours was some great sin. And it was, but in the service of a greater good, grabbing a clean strip of cloth from the bedside drawer, cleaning you up in gentle caresses, stickiness removed from your inner thighs, even softer touches over your pussy lips.

You let him busy himself, even as your fingers itched to get him back, wanting to tell him that you'd had worse pain, that you'd hurt for him every second if you had to. Instead, you only smiled at him when he glanced up at you, reaching up to pull him back to you. He came willingly as you pulled him back into your arms.

Tension faded out of your muscles and you melted into the bed, hands wrapped around Hancock's middle. "Did you miss me while I was gone?" You asked, smiling, voice soft. You just wanted to hear him say it, your own little version of 'I love you'.

Hancock raised his head, pecking your lips gently, leaving them tingling.

"More than you could ever know," He said, painfully earnest.

"Mmm, I think I have some idea."

Notes:

The smut chapter took me ages to write for some reason, so if it sucks... uh. No it doesn't (if u see any spelling errors pls let me know tho)

Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, or request something, or just come chat with me!

[freakybongg]

I JUST SAW UR TF2 REQUESTS ARE NEWLEY OPEN IM BITING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I am......SO desperate......for anything with a male reader with all the mercs......ESPECIALLY MEDIC AND SOLDIER (theyre my baby girls 😼‼️)

But if you want something extra specific, I would love some headcanons on how they feel about a trans guy reader!

Thankyew so much🤌🤌

YEAHHH i barely see any x male reader so yiypiyppee im so happy to do this request, i am SUPER bad at writing pyro btw im doing this in parts bc its long! so this will be scout soldier pyro and demoman.

PART 1

SCOUT

-He feel like he doesnt mind, like "okay? why are you telling me?" typa feel. If you guys are close he'll take it into consideration. He'd make sure that no one bullies you for it, and prob knocks their skull out to be honest.

-He never seems to make you feel uneasy about being trans. He never left you out of "The Boys" day. always called you dude or bro. It made you feel warm inside.

-If you guys are dating, im sure he wouldnt care if you were trans, assuming you tell him before you start dating. If you having any gender dysphoria he'll be sure to comfort you. Saying things along the lines of " Dude, youre the most handsome man ive ever met" or makes jokes to keep your mind off of it.

-If you have your period, im pretty sure scout gets the gist of it since he lived with his mom for quite awhile, he prob brings u to medic for help.

SOLDIER

-Firstly soldier was confused, but after sometime he didnt mind/forgot you were even trans.

-When you get gender dysphoria he thinks youre sick, like if you come out to breakfest he'll yell "CEDET, BACK INTO SLEEPING QUARTERS NOW. YOU ARE SICK.'' you're as confused as the medic who js gave you a check up. After you figure out what hes talking about and tell him he'll be like, "oh." and js walk away like nothing happened.

-He might use cupcake on you less, to not trigger you.

-He for sure has the "to be a real man u must work for it" mindset and WILL push you to your limit, on battlefields, training, and maybe even the bedroom lol.

-If anyone bullies you he WILL punish them bro "YOU SAY THAT THO, THEY ARE MANLIER THAN YOU, MAGGOT. 20 LAPS." will literally punch anyone who makes you feel bad abt your gender

-He LOVES when you do anything manly, like he will praise you if you just beat scout in a arm wrestle, defend your self, or kill an enemy.

PYRO

-Pyro understands when you tell them, immediately hugs you

-When youre having dysphoria, they'll cuddle you, in their little plushie fort, snacks stolen from the pantry, movie and everything!!!

-If someone makes fun of you Pyro will launch their self onto them and land a few punches, and go back into your arms like it was nothing. how sweet pyro !!!

DEMOMAN

-Demoman is super cool with it, he doesnt mind at all

-Im sure he's met at LEAST one transgender, plus he thinks its cool you trust him enough to tell him something personal

-If youre dating him, he holds you while hes drunkingly calling you all types of sweet names, like "my boy" or "handsome". Also he calls you lad way more often then anymore merc?? like he puts it after every sentence damn near.

[th3tism]

hiii saw your requests are open!!! i dont request often but i have had a thought gnawing at my brain, the mercs (scout, spy, demo and sniper if not all bc ik writing 4 all of them is) a gn reader with a bunch of like, ironic graphic tees. like, ones with cats on it that say "LESBIANS EAT WHAT?" or like, "i ❤ milfs". like, silly tshirt collector and wears that shit proudly. mb if this is a weird request 😭 also doesnt matter if theyre red or blu

WOMEN FEAR ME FISH LOVE ME/ref

STOP BC THIS REQUEST MADE ME GIGGLE SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Mercs: demo, spy, sniper, scout

Silly shirts 🗣️🔥‼️

Scout:

Dude owns this shirt

I don't care, he has it and he wears it all the time

He will steal your shirts, either out of spite or bc he thinks they look cool

Demo:

He probably bought one of those shirts when he was drunk

He laughs his ass off when he sees you in one of those shirts

He has this shirt btw

Spy:

The guy has standards

He doesn't like those shirts, he thinks they are unprofessional and unfunny

Anyways he owns this shirt

Sniper:

He's neutral about him

He doesn't really care but some of them will get a little chuckle out of him

He probably has this shirt somewhere in his camper

[creaturecomfxrts]

Dipper and Mabel pines headcanons?

FINALLY getting around to answering these! since im better at them, heres some college age headcanons that apply just as much to how i view them in the show!

DIPPER PINES

transmasc. duh. of course

parents are INCREDIBLY supportive, super understanding. hes on hormone blockers in the show and starts HRT as soon as hes able, getting top surgery and bottom surgery in his early 20s

bisexual! ran into a guy junior year of highschool and went oh GOD. this is wendy 2.0 im going to die

NERD.

LOVES board games. so much. not just dungeons and dragons and monopoly im talkin everdell, wingspan, cascadia, catan. he loves a good think. he also loves dragging everyone else into playing them with him. he always wins. almost always, anyway

absolutely adores college and everything about it hes a little freak. totally ends up being the president of a few clubs, co creating some, etc. made an occult club AND a hiking club at his college

loves doodling, loves horror. his teachers? not so much. they try not to look at the weird ass creatures he draws on the margins of his very well written homework.

probably goes into something smart. like biochem. or um. stem. im (author) is a liberal arts major all i do is write gay fanfiction.

PSYCHOTIC ASS DORM ROOM. he barely decorated it like a classic college male but has a conspiracy board and thats it. which is full of strange shit hes seen outside of gravity falls. to be fair its very well documented and somewhat neat, just…. strange decor. he lives in a single (introvert)

COVERED in tattoos, but always abides by the suit rule (all tattoos need to be able to be covered by a suit to be professional. he knows this bc hes a neerrrrddd). he has really sick sleeves of runes and other occult like things hes found interesting. he has cipher related tattoos as well and also even got ford to design a few.

he has PROMINENT eye bags. he will never fix his sleep schedule

ended up working as a summer camp counselor for a while right outside if gravity falls! the kids loved him but he couldnt stand the heat and bugs all the time so he only did it for a summer or two

even after turning 21 he doesnt actually drink that much, hes a craft beer enjoyer and likes to make it himelf (Much later in life)

ALWAYS stays in touch with mabel. if anything happens in either of their lives you better BELIEVE theyre already on the phone with eachother

medical marijuana card holder

smokes to help eith his anxiety. it works WONDERS

coffee drinker but actually Does put cream and sugar is coffee. sometimes. other times hes too tired and just thugs it out

MABEL PINES

THE number one it girl ever

NUMBER ONE TRANS ALLY EVERRRRRR she loves her brother so much

pansexual!! she loves cool people, thats her motto

went to a fashion design school, is loving it despite drowning in work

began dying her hair in cool ways through highschool, now she always has some of her natural color present but goes a little crazy on the highlights

found out about huge dangley joke earrings. went absolutely crazy. has an entire space on her desk dedicated to her many many earrings. she has babies, knives, bags of doritos, aliens, glow in the dark ones, anything you could imagine.

fantastic at fashion design. stuggled a lot with the fancier stuff but her teachers were floored when they let her go wild on casual comfy wear. she excells in combining fashion and comfort in really exciting and colorful ways.

a party girl through and through, loves clubs, raves, concerts, anything!

video game lover as well, cracked at pvp games.

still boy crazy, just less so (has had like. 10 college boyfriends)

literally the sweetest friend ever. she loves hosting movie nights and tea parties (bc who wouldnt. theyre awesome)

tea drinker, loves floral teas with honey

HATES. black coffee. a starbucks frap girlie 4ever

has been scouted for modeing multiple times and only accepted when it was a commercial with puppies

love love loves making friendshio bracelets. knows all the patterns, all of her friends have a hefty amount of a bunch of different ones because she just keeps making them

anywwy, here you go! i love these two so much, i hope ive done them justice!

[friendlyengie]

I would love to hear ur hcs about the mercs sleeping habits (including ur OCs ofc)

ive always wanted To draw something for this but ive never had the like. Idea to do it in a way that would land the punchline. But basically on their days off I think Engineer is up until sunrise and Demo sleeps until sunrise and they sometimes catch each other in the middle but otherwise they wont see each other until theyre forced to start waking up at the same time again for work.

Anyways . Specifics. Hm.

Medic- trying to write this out for him I’m torn between “despite the way he is, Medic’s sleep schedule is shockingly consistent” and “he surgically removed the need for sleep out of his brain when joining Mann Co. and now sleep is like a recreational activity for him.” I genuinely think it could go either way.

Sniper- sleeps a solid 8 hours and still manages to pass out standing up during mission briefings. I don’t think his sleep is particularly pleasant, easily startled due to spy anxiety. But during his inappropriately timed naps? He could sleep through the base exploding probably.

Scout- Shockingly well put together morning person if he gets to sleep on time. Usually the second person up after Soldier to go on a morning run and shit. But if his sleep schedule is thrown an hour off track it all goes out the window. Drag his out of bed and he goes right to the couch and back to bed.

Heavy- With the way he lived growing up I could see him really having trouble with sleeping. Not easily startled, but very restless. Type of guy to occasionally have a “Something is Very Wrong” instinct kick in at 3 am and is perfectly aware that trying to get back to bed afterwards is a lost cause, so he’s learned to commit and has a handful of things that he does to pass the time instead.

Engineer- great at giving well thought out advice on why sleep is important, follows it unless he doesn’t. Celebrates his ability to keep himself on a good sleep schedule for a few weeks by letting himself go multiple days with no sleep if he feels like it’ll be “useful” for whatever he’s working on. Started to cap himself off at a 72 hour maximum after a 5-day streak resulted in the genius decision making that went into getting drunk and lobbing off his hand (And then remembering he probably should’ve had Medic around, or a proper gunslinger prototype built before doing so.)

Pyro- probably sleeps but always seems strangely and immediately attentive if you go to wake them up.

Demoman- respects his sleep schedule and expects you to as well. Fuck your all nighters, he knows how comfortable his bed is and he’s taking it. Hours vary depending on how much he’s been drinking, which will also determine how well he participates in the “guy who can just kind of fall asleep anywhere” club.

Spy- I feel like the only thing worse than sleep paranoia about spies is being a Spy trying to have a proper sleep schedule. Less as a result of his current job and more as a result of the many jobs hes taken in the past, I’d think Spy’s developed serious paranoia to letting his guard down in most regards, sleep included. Smoking supposedly “helped” the issue way in the beginning, most definitely just exasperates the issue now. Usually walks around the base with clear intent as to not be heard by anyone, so he’s probably got most of them convinced he sleeps pretty routinely.

Soldier- Consistently, on the dot, like clockwork. Not always the first to bed, but always the first to wake up. Wouldn’t wake up if you launched a bomb through his window but if you tried to gently nudge him to wake him up he would attack you like an enemy combatant and now you have to fight him and win.

[alpinearts]

im normal about my frostpunk ocs (left guy is seth ratigan and right guy is pallav sachdeva)

im going through a giant artblock right now so this all looks like shit but ohh my goddddddd therye soooo goofy. infodump under the cut

before you read, this story has a bad ending. this'll involve talk of cannibalism, murder-suicides, and apocalyptic stuff. i dont think ive done a bad ending before so im going a bit wild with it.

theyre for the frostpunk arks scenario where a bunch of engineers have to preserve seeds for the future of humanity! along the way they gotta automate the whole settlement before a huge storm hits so the seeds survive even after everyone dies.

seth ratigan is the lead mech engineer who helped draft a bunch of automaton designs and pallav sachdeva is the lead botanist. they met in university (roommates because im a sucker for that trope) and fell in love there! both of them are closeted and keep the relationship a secret.

pallav has a sister, nima, whos an ecologist. when they arrive at the arks shes drafted as a scout and gives the reader a view as to whats happening out in the field so to speak. at the beginning of the story when all the engineers are climbing a cliff, seth slips and knocks himself out. everyone keeps climbing except for nima and pallav, and she pulls him to safety. towards the end she gets lost on a scouting expedition and ends up completely spiralling and killing her fellow explorers. cannibalism mightve been involved. she represents corruption in the pursuit of survival. she may or may not be azulin from unicorn wars

sethhhh....... sethhh..... he represents loss of hope. as lead engineer he gives the reader insight into the inner workings of the arks, both mechanically and politically. hes irish and OHH ITS 1:51 AM AND I HAVE WORK AT 9 AM !!!!! hes IRISH!!! and AWESOME!!!!! AND HE SERVES AS THE VOICE OF DOUBT!!! towards the end as the storm approaches, he gets completely overworked by the leader and the stress + sleep deprivation just drives him over the edge. and at the height of the storm when everyone else is dead he kinda. he kinda kills pallav. and then himself. not cool dude.

pallav serves as our insight into how the people are reacting to all this and he represents altruism + perseverence in the face of certain death. oh its 1:55. oh my god. once the arks are fully automated he gets moved to the hothouses as a supervisor, which means he has more proximity to cookhouses and medical tents than our other protagonists. while seth and nima go from kindhearted and optimistic to corrupt and hopeless, pallav stays steady. throughout the whole series he maintains a positive attitude and is always looking to help people. at first seth just laughs along and entertains him, such as the scene at the very top of this post where they're talking about flowers and cottages. im thinking pallav wants to pretend with seth, for just a moment, that all of this will blow over and they can go back to their life in england, get a cottage and whatnot. seth pushes back saying that realistically they wont make it, pallav asks him to play along and so he does. its a stark contrast to their deaths and how much the arks have changed them.

the seedlings survived, but at what cost?

[hadesisonlyalad]

yk i dont post a lot on tumblr but we all saw that red flags post so im gonna take a moment of ur time to say something on each merc and the red flags listed for them. im doing a read more incase u havent seen the “mercs red flags” headcanon post and it does not flood ur page

both the medic and engie things with “not wanting to spend time with you/wont make time for you” is SUCH bullshit if that was the case they wouldnt even date you. and then ur telling me engie tf2, DELL CONAGHER, would NEVER want to take you on a date? like ever??? u are INSANE. And then sorry to tackle medic and engie in the same paragraph but they had a lot of common “””””red flags””””” that were listed. why would he yell at you. he hardly even yells in general (based off comics and voice lines) if anything hes just kinda a loud person 💀 AND YOU BRINGING UP ONE THING WONT MAKE HIM SUDDENLY IGNORE YOU FOR DAYS LIKE?? he KNOWS hes committing medical malpractice btw. he would not leave you for bringing that up he is WELL AWARE of what hes doing. and we see him CANONICALLY DISCIPLINE ARCHIMEDES IN MEET THE MEDIC, WHY WOULD HE TOLERATE HIS BIRDS ATTACKING YOU????

also why are we listing an addiction as a “red flag” what the fuck is wrong with you. i get not wanting to date someone with an addiction, its a valid concern, but thats SO much more serious than a “red flag” or “ick”??? LIKE ARE YOU OKAYYYY???????

AND THEN HEAVY’S RED FLAG IS “he has trauma” FUCKING. PACK IT UP GUYS IG IF YOU HAVE TRAUMA YOU CAN NEVER BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. (/s) WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

i’m fine with the miss pauling ones, at least two of them, because yeah, it’s canon that she doesn’t have the most time and i imagine if ur not a merc or work in that area a relationship might be a bit hard? but shes an honest person, i don’t think she’s gonna lie to you. idk im very neutral about the pauling ones, if anything theyre the most in character of this shithole list.

all i have to say for pyro is like. yk those people who hc pyro as aroace except theyre super weird about it? like theyre either infantilizing them or have weird ableist feelings about pyro? yeah thats the vibes im getting. actually wait where did u pull codependent pyro from actually wtf

i think the “tryna live like hes 20” thing for spy is really fucking funny 💀 like go girl go live through that middle age crisis!!/j no but seriously. hes dating you hes gonna think you’re a 10, and even then YOU’RE SAYING IF YOU AGE AT ALL HE’LL LEAVE YOU??? CANON MILF LOVER SPY. “OFF TO VISIT YOUR MOTHER!” SPY TF2. WILL LEAVE YOU IF YOU GET OLD AND AGE AT ALL…? HE LIKES HIS WOMEN LIKE HE LIKES HIS WINE MOTHERFUCKER: AGED. sorry bad joke lets keep going uh- i think the other hcs are garbage too i just really hate specifically this spy hc. just this one specifically.

im not a sniper connoisseur, my friend will is way better versed in sniper’s characterization, but even i know this isnt sniper. “thinks if he argues long enough he’ll win”…? “cannot support you in anything”?!!?! “IF YOU’RE HIS FRIEND AND YOU TWO GET INTO A BAD ARGUMENT PREPARE TO NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN” IM GENUINELY AT A LOSS FOR WORDS. I JUST. I DONT..? WHAT DO I EVEN SAY. I DONT K N O W WHAT TO SAY. BUT IF I DID KNOW WHAT TO SAY I’D BE SAYING VERY BAD THINGS.

i dont think scout is misogynistic- i see why people think that but me personally i just think he has no game and people mistake it as violent misogyny for some reason. but. listen we know scout is a dick we do okay but he loves women. why would he cheat on you.? bro he’d be glad u picked him 😭 AND THEN THE PERIOD THING?? he was raised by a SINGLE MOM do you REALLY think shes gonna raise him and let him think that way about a natural body function. im speaking entirely from the single mom experience and the answer is NO!!!! also how is loving your mother a red flag. being the youngest child is also a red flag, i guess. and having issues with his dad. (/s) also, second verse same as the first: IF HES DATING YOU HE THINKS YOU’RE A 10 WHAT IS SO HARD TO FUCKING GET ABOUT THISHXWHBVWBWBXvqvsbs?1?2!2’wndjwke

uhhh soldier wasnt. here for some reason. so nothing to say about him.

anyway leave ur opinions below. i rly dont wanna get into any tumblr drama or internet drama at all bc it scares me dearly and im always self conscious about leaving a bad digital footprint especially over something as petty as tf2 drama but i cannot stand for this slander I CANNOT‼️‼️‼️‼️ sorry if u also think im mischaracterizing anyone here i only put hours of studying into my fav mercs and thats. abt it,, listen im silly okay

[intertexts]

HELLOOOOOOO i hope u have fun w ur siblings :] but also holy shit i cant wait for u to finish 39 and get to 40 heheheheheheh. ANYWAY. welcome to wibby torment nexus hours here we go!!!!!!!!!

actually going to start with the whisperer/mal/trickster thing because holy shit dude ive had IN DEPTH thoughts about this. i cant even type it all out here bc thats for a wholeeee second ask but basically. fuckin. yeah. fundamental basics: in nhw world trickster killed clarence. not going to give you the reasoning for this yet. im on the fence about how particularly intentional wibbys death was BECAUSE of that but.... yeah thats for sure a fucking soup ingredient dude.

out of all the options you said... hmmmmmm okay. i like all of them for different reasons. i dont think he would specifically kill wibby JUST to spite mal, theres definitely more to it than that, but i think its a funny little bonus for him. mals hatred is proabably MOSTLY one sided. but trickster thinks its funny to make him look like an idiot sooo. haha i killed the kid who reminds me of the other guy i killed in front of you get fucked loser! I ALSOOOO. HMMMM. I DO REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF WILLIAM GETTING STRUNG ALONG but i dont think trickster is manipulative Like That. hes impatient, he doesnt like playing the long game he likes instant gratification. getting ashe was a HUGE exception to that. so while i do love a good "morally grey hero works with the villain to get something he wants" thing. i think its EXTREMELY in character for william to do that but maybe not so much trickster. i do think if we want a moment like this though...................... what if. ohhh evil cooking in my mind rn. what if trickster makes it. OH FUCK. OKAY. HERE WE GO. LITERALLY JUST POPPING INTO MY MIND AS I TYPE OKAY OKAY FUCK . PSYCHIC DAMAGE

what if. what if. this happens at the beginning of the battle. they find muse sitting in the clearing by himself. they all show up ready to fight, theyre surrounding him (they have scouts out looking for trickster, too, since taking down the puppetmaster is how they free the puppets. ill get to this in a second). um. well. his hair is down, not in any fancy braid or anything. and william cant sense the breaker state. (dakota can, but hes not fast enough). trickster is making it seem like ashe is free by suppressing the breaker state as much as he can wihtout actually turning it off. he has ashe turn toward his friends, talks to them like its actually him, saying htings like "guys please he let me go help me get these off of me" (referring to. the strings) . and . in a panicked state of. relief and desperation to get ashe back, because he cant sense the breaker state, he believes the ruse, wibby is the first person to rush forward. it would maybe be more in character for dakota to rush in, but he hesitates, because with the effects of his power he CAN tell that ashe is still in breaker state. he and/or virion reach out to grab william before he can get too close but hes too fast and hes already in his own breaker form so even if they could grab him their hands would just slip through. he gets close enough and far enough away from the other heroes that trickster has ashe snap fully back into muse mode and rips wibby in half. so his real goal there was just to trick (ha!) at least one of the heroes into getting close enough to do that (lmao funny prank, get gamzeed idiot) but the fact that it was william specifically who did it makes the whole thing EVEN FUNNIER. his trap fooled the logical one, the smart one, the one who is usually stopping the OTHERS from doing stupid things like this !! AND this also just so happens to be mallard ghoul conway's little pet project who looks suspiciously like the hero trickster killed when he took over his first city!!!!!!!!!!! the whole thing is just so delicious for him. which . oh god the wards are out of commission because of wibby death but its also maybe kind of a good thing that this happened because trickster is so busy laughing at his own successful prank that it makes it just a tiny bit easier to find where hes holed up.

is this anything. hi. holy shit wibby torment nexus. i feel like there was something else i wanted to say but i got so lost in the sauce of the Scenarios

AUUUUHGH THIS IS EVERYTHING. YEAH. YEAH HOLY SHIT. sorry i took so long 2 get to this but like. Augh. holy shit. ok. this hits so perfectly i love it a lot. yeah. this goes hard. what if. also. honestly. he just could straight up turn off muse's shaker stuff/breaker state for a minute....... maybe he lets ashe think he's free maybe he's still controlling him or maybe it's genuine & he's really free for half a minute..... then also they doesn't have any reason to suspect him & if dakota Does ashe's telekinesis just. trips him up or prevents him from getting 2 will in time (bc half of dakota's thing is just Being Really Fucking Fast right).... will goes into his breaker state for Extra Security (remember how i said he hates actually fighting w/ it & stuff? he just Doesn't Know that it doesn't work right in ashe's area of effect.) & as soon as he gets close the ruse drops & everything bubbles and shifts around him & it's too late. do u think the trickster still does it with ashe's hands? also i couldn't stop thinking abt the image of wibby's breaker state just. dropping as soon as muse rips him apart. the clean blue-white glow fizzles and disappears & everything's just. blood and meat spraying. that moment of horror. (& maybe also dakota & virion literally just. can't get close safely for a while, they don't Know wibby is still Alive Like that, they just saw him get ripped apart, it's only when they recover from the shock/get desperate enough to enter the muse dreamscape that they realize his lungs are like. still going & stuff....) anyway. did we ever talk about how we fix this? how does he fucking get put back together????

[ghostxlynx]

First post.. I had to speak up.. Hello fellow enstarries, are we not gonna talk about the g/t in the game? The lack of g/t content people make is saddening (and concerning when i do find fics..) but look at the amount of food Happyele is giving us!! its something alright! Exhibit A: Dollhouse scout set.

JUST LOOK ATTHIS IM GONNA AJKGANKG AND MIKA EVEN MENTIONS HOW HE WISHES HE WAS SMALL AND EVEN GETS EXCITED WHAT??? Dont even play with me. dont even joke lad. dont come byohio dont rizz me up were done. (sorry)

Midori also sulks a little because he's grown so tall and he wished he was smaller.. Midori its ok my tired boi.. its okay..

Exhibit B: This one is just me being delulu but the Subaru card that pc players got is so cute when bloomed guys. please. hear me out. please.

The tiny dolls are so so so cutee aaaahh my heart 💓💓💓I love trickstar so much theyre the sillies i swear. akgjnank bro.

Exhibit C: This. This. THIS!!!

i ACTUALLY LOST MY Sanity reading this event story. i went in like innocently expecting not much. THEN I READ EPISODE 1 OF FLYING TO INFINITY AND I JAWDROPPED SO HARD. Leo scared me so bad but then i started kicking my feet and giggling (im insane im so sorry)

i. i had to calm down ovr the span of 2 days cuz this scene was in my mind nonstop. guys.. help me out here!! SORRY haha- there was also the part with miniature island and it was honestly very sweet awee HIIRO IS A SWEET GIANT HEHE madara sneak as well

this is all i have on me right now i will possibly be back with more. if not.. im sorry enstars g/t fans.. i have failed u.. we will meet again.