#feel free to send more questions everyone!

[killerpancakeburger]

Breaking point (2/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Soap x GN!Reader

Ghost's version (1/2)

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Soap is tooth-rotting sweet.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃Soap is Prince Fucking Charming (very cliché romance tropes). Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

This bad good boy gave me a harder time than expected lol.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be Soap fucking Mactavish. Only the most gorgeous man on base - according to you, that is.

You weren't proud of it, but you had a crush on him since you arrived, six months ago. His piercing cerulean eyes, rugged good looks and outgoing personality wouldn’t let you know peace. The mere sight of him was enough to bring a goofy smile to your face, and every conversation between the two of you left you blushing and elated.

You initially thought that this silly, juvenile infatuation would fade away soon enough. Ok, he was beautiful, and he had eyes to damn yourself for, so what? Surely with enough time and exposure, he'd feel mundane. But things didn’t go that way at all.

On top of looking stunning, he just had to be friendly. He made you feel welcome when you arrived. He made efforts to include you in conversations, asking questions to get to know you. He relieved you of the burden of small talk, appeasing your social anxiety, by happily keeping the conversation going on his own, never taking offense when you had nothing to say. He chose to spend some of his free time with you, escorting you back from the archives or dropping by your office.

He was even flirty at times. Flirty. With you.

You could have still disregarded all this; tell yourself he was like this with everyone, that it was just his personality; imagining things would only end up with you hurt in the end.

But then, during a meeting, you witnessed his sincere concern for civilian lives. His righteous anger against unjust orders, when you had fully expected a soldier to obey mindlessly.

This had been your undoing; the moment you knew you were a goner. A severe fondness for him had sunk its claws deep inside your chest and had no intent to let go. It didn’t mean you had any intention to declare your feelings though; you never entertained the thought that he could return them, therefore there was no need for any confession.

For him to be the one to have caught you in this state, it was downright humiliating. Especially since his good heart would make him feel obligated to care.

He was still wearing his leather, fingerless gloves, and some dirt lingered on the contour of his face, like he tossed his weapons and his flak jacket to the side right out of the heli bringing him back to base, and rushed here.

“Hiya hen, brought you the- Shite, what happened?”

His booming voice and cheerful tone fade away as his eyes widen with concern. He briefly freezes at the door in shock before closing the distance to your desk with great strides. You lower your eyes in shame, avoiding his gaze.

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everything's fine.”

“No offense, bonnie, but yer not very good at lying.”

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look at him. Staring at your own lap is only going to make you seem more suspicious.

You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Soap turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced.

He still remembers that one time when you showed up thirty minutes late to a meeting with the Task Force, panting, leaning on the threshold, the front of your clothes soaked in blood.

 “Sorry I’m late,” you started.

“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it,” Price interrupted before laying eyes on you. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”

You explained how Private what's-his-name bled out in the break room after carelessly reopening his stitches and you had to stop the hemorrhage with your bare hands and a bunch of paper towels while shouting yourself hoarse for help. Yet when Price ordered you to take the rest of the day off, you insisted on going on as usual, forcing their captain to make it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.

You and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

Clinging to what's familiar, you focus on the stack of papers under his arm.

“You have the latest reports? Give it here.”

You hold out your hand expectantly. Instead of giving them to you, he sets them down on the opposite side of your desk, out of your reach.

“Paperwork can wait.”

You blink in astonishment at him.

“No it cannot…?”

You roll your eyes at his behavior and get up to seize the reports, but he snatches them from you. You can feel your composure snap like a twig.

“Johnny, what the hell?!” you yell, throwing your hands in the air.

You could remember exactly the first time you called him Johnny, only because it had been such an embarrassment. You couldn’t get used to his alias; sure you had been warned beforehand that some of them were… original, but somehow "Soap" was the one that stood out as the most ridiculous. You briefly entertained the idea of using his first name, except that for you “John” already referred to Captain Price. Only once you tried to call him Mr Mactavish, and as a result Gaz and him guffawed so hard they almost fell off their chairs. Even Ghost let out a cough that was most definitely a concealed laugh. You were running out of options until you heard the lieutenant call him Johnny; you instantly liked it. It just… fitted him. 

From that moment on you used the nickname, but only in your mind. You didn’t have any of the liberties Ghost had and you wouldn’t take them, out of respect, and shyness. Or at least this had been the plan until you fumbled and called him that to his face. The ensuing silence felt deafening as you were realizing what you’ve just done, and you apologized immediately, mortified. 

He just laughed it off; said you could keep calling him that. True, he had appeared more surprised than irritated, but you didn’t want to take the risk of him simply being polite. This too, had been your plan, until he ruined it merily. 

Somehow he must have noticed your efforts to not slip up again because he teased you about it. 

“Not Johnny today? Did ah dae something wrong?”

You went back to “Johnny” quickly - anything to put an end to the mischievous glint in his eye and the rascally smirk on his lips aimed at you. Being the target of his undivided attention sent a pang in your chest and knots in your stomach. Those sensations weren't exactly unpleasant, but it led to an ominous feeling that this was too good to be true, and that at any second this vision would shatter to reveal the cruel reality; so you'd just grant him a timid smile to confirm he did amuse you, but then proceed to look away.

It's the first time you’re pronouncing “Johnny” with anger; real, raw annoyance, as well as animosity, instead of the fond frustration you usually display when he messes around.

To your utter disbelief, he smiles in response to your outburst. 

“There we go, talk tae me. Even if it’s just tae scream at me.”

The remark pacifies you instantly; you lower your arms, defeated.

“I'm not gonna… I don't want to scream at you.”

You sigh and sit back, setting down your elbows on your desk to take your head between your hands, overburdened.

“The hell you want me to tell you? That my mom's on the brink of death out of nowhere? That when she's gone I'll be all alone in this world?”

You swear, aggravated, as tears sting your eyes again, and this time you ignore if you'll be capable of holding back the flood.

Nevertheless you can still hear Soap curse under his breath, Scottish accent growing thicker, before moving to get on your side of the desk, to reach you, dispensing soft-spoken, soothing words along the way. You pivot to face him, your burning eyes and the sensation of dried tears on your face making you painfully aware that you must look as pathetic as you feel.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him kneeling at your feet. His hands reach for your face, slowly enough to give you time to back away if you wanted to.

“A'm sorry, ah didnae mean tae mak' ye cry, a'm a bloody eejit. …Can I?”

His fingers stopped a breath away from your tear-stained cheeks. 

At that exact moment you can’t quite believe what he's about to do, yet you nod your head in agreement - not trusting your voice to not break - all the same, the gaping void in your chest aching for any kind of contact he'd be willing to provide.

His warm fingers cup your cheeks as the pad of his thumbs gently, almost reverently, wipe the underside of your eyes.

“There we go,” he cajoles, meticulously drying any wet spot on your skin.

“A'm ‘ere whether ye want tae talk or not, aye? A'm not going anywhere.”

You stare at him in silence, thunderstruck by the scene unfolding in front of you. Never in your wildest dreams you would have expected to have this man at your feet. He sets his hands down on your knees, squeezing them softly, and is looking right at you, encouraging smile and tender gaze, reassurance radiating from his expression. The position allows you to greedily take in every little detail: the white line of the scar on his chin, the breathtaking shades of blue in his eyes, the gap in his left eyebrow.

As you lose yourself into the work of art that are his features, he keeps conversing.

“We should take yer mind aff things. We could play board games in tha rec room. Or ye could let aff some steam wi’ tha punching bag in tha training room! Ah could teach ye how tae shoot on tha shooting range-”

You open your eyes wide as his suggestions turn progressively more violent.

“I have a bus to catch, and that's overlooking the fact that I haven't done anything in my last hour of work today…”

“If anyone gives you trouble, just say ah forced you.”

You chuckle at the idea.

“You'd never compel me to do anything.”

You can’t repress a loving smile. Johnny just feels that safe to you.

He smirks mischievously at that.

“Na, but they'll believe ah dragged ye intae mah evil schemes.”

He punctuates his statement by a roguish wink that wrests a laughter from you.

“You should take my bed,” he declares suddenly, serious again.

As the silence between you two stretches and your smile is replaced by a mix of shock, confusion, and worry, he realizes how this may sound. Flustered, he starts rambling to defuse the situation.

“Wait, no- steamin’ jesus - Ah didnae mean it like that! I’d take the couch in the rec room, ‘f course. Ye shouldn't go through tonight alone.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny, I could never take your bed from you. You must already sleep on the floor so often for missions…” 

“Exactly, hen. This is nothing for me. The couch is a hotel compared to that.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but then he makes an expression that can only be described as sad puppy eyes, even going as far as slightly tilting his head to the side to perfect the impression. You gulp in response, stricken straight through the heart, and knowing pertinently that you could already hardly refuse him anything, so if he begins to gaze at you like that… 

“Pretty please?” 

Oh no. Not that line.

He's now excessively batting his eyelashes at you, which, while not exactly alluring, is both comical and endearing. Hell, who are you even kidding? You’re so smitten with this blue-eyed creature, is there any act from him you wouldn’t find endearing?

“Are you… pouting?” 

“Depends. Is it working?”

You sigh, aware it's a losing battle, and look away, a futile attempt to hide the ridiculously potent effect he has on you, or to at least shield yourself from his influence, if only momentarily.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Maybe ah just wantae hear ye say aye tae me.”

Your cheeks catch fire at the suggestiveness of the words. As if the regular rasp of his voice, that felt like an exquisite caress along your spine, wasn’t already making it incredibly difficult to keep your face at a reasonnable temperature.

“You're gonna get me fired, Johnny.”

“Over my dead body,” he retorted with surprising determination, solemnly pressing a hand over his heart.

You scoff indulgently. Coming from anyone else, the hastily taken oath would be preposterous, but Soap has always proved himself trustworthy.

“Let's go. Your knees must be sore,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.

“Wanna make a joke aboot mah stamina when kneeling but ah will keep it fur next time,” he slips as he stands up, way too smugly for your own good, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything. As if you needed any more incitement into picturing him on his knees in a different context. 

You get up quickly after, but he does not get out of your way. You rise a quizzical eyebrow, his close proximity triggering alarm bells inside your head. If he remains near enough for you to feel his body heat, you’re going to get dizzy.

He simply grins.

“Want a hug?”

He opens his muscled arms, smile genuine, almost blinding, like a tacit invitation, and all your reluctance seems to evaporate with that simple gesture. Before you can linger any more on the harmful consequences this lack of restraint will eventually cause, you throw yourself into his embrace. It feels like falling and flying all at once.

You blink at the unexpected question. Yes, implores your touchstarved mind. YES, cries out your sensitive, enamored heart. 

No way, rebuffs your cautious brain. It will only hurt more knowing what you  can’t have.

Your hands close on the back of his shirt, near his shoulder blades, and, pressing your face into his shoulder to make the world disappear for a moment, you cling to him like he could rescue you from the sinking ship that was your sick mind. One of his arms close around your waist while his free hand rubs your back, leaving trails of fire in its wake, but bringing you much-appreciated comfort nonetheless.

“You're too nice to me. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness.”

He remains silent a drawn-out second, and you're terrified you just screwed everything up.

“Yer givin me too much credit, lass “ he finally says. “Ah don't go ‘round base comforting every person I find.”

His tone isn’t angry, per se, but it lacks its previous joviality.

Soap tilts his head back, biting his lips, thanking the universe that with your face laying against his chest, you can’t perceive his embarrassment.

He can’t tell you. Not yet. Not now.

Months ago, he took the resolve to make you smile more; for a while now he started doing his reports more seriously, or even did the ones of Gaz and Ghost, just to have an excuse to see you, to behold the way your face lightens up when he brings you necessary paperwork before you even demand it.

He can’t tell you that he used to consider writing reports as the worst part of the job until you came along; until you awarded him a heartfelt, radiant smile when he gave you his; that he noticed how little you smiled outside of artificial ones you fabricate for work purposes; that when he manages to make you smile or laugh genuinely, it feels like a prize, that only he is privy to.

And he certainly can’t tell you about that one time where he handed over his reports in advance, but you weren't there, so he left, heart heavy with disappointment, dragging his feet, until he heard your voice coming from the room he just left.

“What are those?” you questionned your coworker.

“Soap just dropped them.”

“But… I didn't even ask him to yet?”

Perplexity combines with glee in your voice.

“He's a good boy, isn’t he?” prompted your colleague.

You let out a fond, wistful sigh, before responding, half-joking.

“I know! Such a good boy for me.”

Getting to hear you beaming over his benevolent action was already a treat, but witnessing that compromising exchange? To be called a “good boy” by you short-circuited him. He swore - “Steamin jesus” -, ears burning, face on fire, covering it with one hand. He needed to leave badly. Seek refuge in his room, where he could be free to replay that tantalizing line on loop in his mind. “Such a good boy for me.”

Your heart beats a bit faster than usual as you obediently follow Soap through corridors you’ve never been in before. You trust him with all your heart, but that doesn't change the fact that what you’re doing is against the rules; and those rules aren't high school's, but the ones of a military base.

You flinch hard as a familiar voice screams in your direction.

“SERGEANT MACTAVISH!”

Oops, you think. That's Captain Price, your supervisor, and he sounds pissed. You never witnessed him calling Soap by his last name before, but that being said, you never saw him deal with a kidnapped assistant either.

You've been caught red-handed. 

Your mind begins to come up with plans to lessen the punishments that are without doubt about to descend upon you two, but Johnny grabbing your hand brings you back to reality. 

You lift your gaze to him. He doesn't seem worried at all, if anything… is that a spark of delight in his eye?

He only pronounces one word.

“Run.”

So you run, carried away half by adrenaline, and half by the sergeant dragging you. Thankfully Soap is aware that there's no way you can keep up with him and his training, so he comes to a halt a minute later.

Panting hard, you double over, hands clenching your knees for support, heart thumping in your chest, blood throbbing in your ears.

“Why… are we… running…!?” you manage to exhale. “It's only… gonna make… things worse…”

By your side, he's standing fresh as a daisy, barely ruffled by your flight. The sight would be infuriating if his eyes weren't glinting with amusement and he wasn’t offering you a dazzling smile.

“Because it's fun,” he affirms like it's evident.

Little by little, you catch your breath, throwing Johnny a look that's half in earnest, half in jest.

“More fun for you than for me.”

He doesn't get flustered by your moderate reprimand.

“Is it selfish o' me tae wantae spend more time wi' ye? Didnae want us tae git interrupted yet.”

The line feels like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath you just recovered and leaving you agape.

He takes your hand again with the natural of a well earned habit.

“C'm'on, ah have more than one trick up mah sleeve.”

You're unsure which of the views unfurling under your eyes is the most magnificent; the sunset in front of you that's painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, or the striking man by your side whose eyes could rival the most astounding sights.

Nibbling on the dinner Soap smuggled out of the cafeteria with too much ease for it to be his first time, you regularly sneak glances at him as he fills the silence with tales of his adventures - the parts that aren't top secret, at least. You two totally did not break onto the roof moments ago, no sir.

Goosebumps travel along your arms and any exposed skin as the night falls and the sun takes away the warmth with him. You furiously brush the outside of your arms for heat, and you're about to suggest finishing this inside, when a jacket lands on your shoulders.

It is still warm with his owner's bodyheat, deliciously so. You curl up and drag it closer, your face on fire. Realizing that Soap gave you his jacket without you even having to ask or complain about the cold… you’re conflicted between obsessing over this like a giggling schoolgirl, and feeling apologetic.

Once you more or less got your blushing under control, you turn to him, displaying a contrite expression.

“I don't want to take your jacket on top of your bed, Johnny.” you pout.

“A'm a bloody furnace. Wanna check?”

He asks, cheekily, even adding a wink for good measure. As if there was any more artifice needed to make you putty in his hands.

He presents you his bare arm for the taking, all golden skin, bulging muscles and a constellation of white scars.

You indulge him and lay a hand on his bicep, knowing he won't relent otherwise; that is definitly the only reason; it has absolutely nothing to do with your own desires.

Indeed, he's burning. As you envy and bask in the heat provided by his body, forgetting that your touch is lingering too long for someone who is just a coworker, he chooses that moment to flex shamelessly, showing off the impressive circumference of his muscle. You feel obligated to squeeze it in response, a way to finally meet him head-on instead of passively enduring his quips, and it feels like reinforced concrete under your fingers.

You fail to hold back your laughter at his facetious demeanor. 

“You're ridiculous.”

The comment holds no bite, a smile brimming with tenderness stretching your lips.

“I'll be the most ridiculous man on the planet if it makes you laugh.”

He's leaning back, hands propped on the ground behind him, head slightly tilted to gaze at you, and the earnestness on his face could almost make you believe his words.

Almost.

But instead a sharp pang pierces your chest, right between your lungs, at heart's level. The smile you return him in spite of yourself oscillates between content and heartbroken, before opting for the latter. 

Tomorrow you will ask him, maybe even plead; tomorrow you'll ask him to put an end to the flirting. You cannot bear it. 

But just tonight, you'll indulge it. You'll pretend to be normal, a well-adjusted human being, instead of a broken shell; you'll act like an adult for who flirting is a regular event and not the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb.

You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off, purposely ignoring the newfound lack of understanding on Soap's face and how his mouth opened for a question.

“It's getting late,” you state, not nearly as casually as you'd like. “I'm beat!”

You're running away and you know it; but you never claimed to be brave. Really, it is the best solution for everyone involved, or at least it's how it has always seemed to be your whole life.

He escorts you to his room - of course he does. Even if he already picked up his things earlier to crash on the couch, already showed the place to you.

As you awkwardly face him on the doorstep after saying your goodbyes and your thanks, unable to look away yet incapable of making eye contact, pain flares in your torso thinking of him, somehow intertwined with joy and gratefulness for his existence. Maybe your inner struggle shows on your face because next thing you know, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look up, but as the deranged idea that he's about to kiss you manifests in a remote corner of your mind, your brain swiftly shuts off as his lips make contact with your forehead.

The touch is light yet your entire being seems gathered on that point of contact.

“G'night, bonnie,” he half-whispers, as if to make sure his words exist only for you.

He grants you one last smile, small but so sweet you feel your heart tightens.

“Good night, Johnny,” you manage to articulate before sheltering in his bedroom. The room smells like him.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you rest against it, tilting your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Morbid curiosity pushes you to glance in the adjacent bathroom's mirror, if only to see what you look after this evening. A flustered mess? A sorrowful wreck?

Catching your reflection's eye makes you grimace as you realize an incriminating detail.

You forgot to give Soap his jacket back.

#mine #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x you #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #soap fanfic #soap fluff #soap cod #cod soap #cod fluff #soap squad™️ #soap quad #WHY THE FUCK DOES COPY PASTING TEXT INTO A TUMBLR POST MAKE THE ITALICS VANISH???

[the-tired-commander]

Building a Pride Flag.....2!

Hello again! After how well last years went, I wanted to come back and make another flag! This year i'll be using the Progressive Flag (thank you to everyone who voted in my poll to decide!)

If I get too many characters for this layout to work, I will be altering it so the side stripes are on the top and bottom instead!

So! Here is where you come in! I'm hoping to make this flag out of all of your excellent characters!

Simply reblog whichever colour post you think they fit best with and add on a picture for me! It's as simple as that! You're absolutely welcome to send me many characters, in fact I would love it if you did! Last year I collected 170 characters, and i'd love to get even more this year. If you submitted characters last year and would like me to use them again, let me know! I can easily access the screens from last year!

I'll be running this until the end of June! I will make multiple posts when the cutoff point is getting near!

I look forward to seeing all your characters!

RED ORANGE YELLOW GREEN DARK BLUE PURPLE BLACK BROWN LIGHT BLUE PINK WHITE

Please make sure you use this years posts!

Below the cut for a little more information about what i'm looking for!

When sending screens, please make sure I can see your characters properly!

Too far away means I can't really show off your character!

(this is a glitch screen but it gets the point across) If i added Opehlia onto the flag like this, she'd either be very small or I might have to stretch her.

Close up shots can work, but that's mostly up to you! If you wanna just show off your characters face, that's perfectly fine!

Absolutely take screens using emotes and skills! They're a lot of fun to work with and can really show off your characters!

Damai using a skill vs Alvida from the character select screen, I would use either screen happily but the motion shot shows off Damai a little better!

I will do my absolute best to get your back pieces and weapons in!

If your computer can handle it, higher graphics is nice to work with. Again, this is all about showing off your characters and higher graphics help with that.

PLEASE DO NOT FEEL LIKE YOU CAN'T TAKE PART IF YOUR COMPUTER CAN'T HANDLE HIGHER GRAPHICS! I WILL STILL INCLUDE YOUR CHARACTERS!

A background that contrasts your character will make my job a lot easier when I am cutting them out to put them on the flag.

This makes for a very easy edit! I will still happily work with any screens I am given!

If you want to edit your screens or send screens you have previously edited, you are welcome to! Especially if you want to add features that you can't have in game.

If there's anything else you'd like to know, please please reach out to me. I want to make this fun for everyone to take part in!

I will tag people that take part in the final result, if you do not want to be tagged, please tell me!

Happy Pride month in advance to all you lovely people!

Here's last years so you can have an idea of what you'd be taking part in!

#gw2prideflag #guild wars 2 #gw2 #please do feel free to reach out to me if you have any questions #i want everyone to feel like they can take part #you don't have to of course! #theres absolutely no pressure #but i would love for people to feel like they can be involved <3 #i'm excited to be doing this #behold my excessive use of exclamation points cause im happy about it sjdfhk #but yeah! two months for people to send screens! #this gives people extra time and gives me a bit more time to work on each screen too #i would also really appreciate people reblogging this post so i get a better reach! <3 #if anyone wants to use art then please talk to me about it!!

[jaypilled]

i did it yall. i made a squirebot oc.

this is TAB-i, aka just tabi. they're izzy and fletch's robotics class final project that at first just didn't turn on because they did such a shitty job, so in an act of desperation fletch used magic to give it a conscience so ava (their teacher) wouldn't fail them. and since fletch is shit at magic instead of giving it a normal squirebot-like conscience he gave it a cat conscience by accident! initially, they were given a good grade for giving their squirebot such a responsive and lovable personality, once they were done being graded they found that they just. couldn't turn them off. ava quickly found out that they cheated with magic and gave them a D-. she was very impressed with how they combined tech and magic, but unfortunately it still counts as. Cheating. anyways! since they couldn't just turn off tabi they kept them around the academy (originally to hunt mice but they quickly found out they only hunt computer mice) as like a class pet. they don't speak, but they do meow and purr like an overheating ps4!

#i finally gave in to the squirebot oc army sorry if this is similar to anyone else's im not caught up on everyone's ocs #its pronouns are it/they/any meaning mainly it/they but he/she isn't misgendering them yknow #feel free to rb/comment/send an ask with questions about them i need to expand on them more #ALSO FEEL FREE TO DRAW THEM GIGGLES #nexo knights oc #squirebot #squirebot oc #nexo knights squirebot #nexo knights #I ALSO HAVE TWO MORE NK OCS THAT IM PLANNING ON POSTING SOON SMILE #jay art

[awesamforehead]

Would anyone actually be interested in making/joining a gc or a discord server?

I've been seeing some posts about wanting to talk to mutuals and other bloggers, myself included but we're all nervous to actually have one lol. I'm willing to take on the initiative, planning keep it casual and such. But i dont know if this is something anyone is actually wanting.

(The gc might be a twitter thing only since tumblr doesnt have a gc option anymore)

#Idk how to tag this lol #It would nice to have one place to talk to everyone again #If anyone has any questions or something feel free to send me a message or ask ill be happy to answer #Though if this flops it wasnt meant to be </3 #Rbs are appreciated just because it'll get out to more people

[gojosprettyprincess]

GUYS GUYS I JUST WANNA SAY THAT IM OKAY NOW and I have my motivation back to keep writing and to that anon that sent the ask and said to forget about it, ITS OK i get what you meant and thank you so much im glad you enjoy my work, it truly means alot💝

#ALSO I really really wanna interact more with people on my blog #and take it to the next level so if anyone have any questions or anything free feel to ask me #Or if you wanna send a thirst or something #you can do so #and if you guys wanna do those emoji anon thingys then I'd love it because it'll be easier for me to know who you are without knowing who #You are get it?? #SO YES I HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GREAT DAY YAY #also im not taking any request anymore as of right now because I'm currently working on the ones i already have

[best-fnaf-song-competition]

How are we dealing with remasters, remixes, and covers? I have forgotten

Remasters are applicable if they are noticeably different from the original (example I gave earlier was the One Of Us remaster by Nightcove because the instrumental/vocal delivery was different + dheusta was added as a collaborator)

Remixes would probably be allowed if they're different enough as well, but I'm hesitant to allow remixes of multiple songs mixed together solely because that would be hell to categorize, and the songs being relatively untouched but cut up to fit together isn't really changing them enough to be applicable here (a good example of something labeled as a remix that would work is Bad Rabbit by tryhardninja because, as far as I can remember, the entire vibe and organization of the song was vastly different from the original)

Covers probably won't be allowed in at all, especially if the original wasn't released in 2023. I'm sure the people doing the covers are adding their own spin on things, but I'd like to remain within the realm of creators and their own work if that makes sense!

#hopefully this all makes sense and isnt too repetitive/arbitrary #if you have any more questions feel free to send me links to originals/remixes and i can check! #a lot of this is also just my own personal standards too #im hoping the tournament doesnt end up being a bunch of remasters as well #a ton of really cool new songs came out this year!!! #but as a nightcove fan i know how exciting it is to hear a new take on a song you like #so please still send them in! maybe everyone else loves that one just as much too and it makes it in! #not a poll #ask #daisybell-on-a-carousel #2023 tournament

[thebard-thebird-andtheboy]

a few q&a questions!

A: Because its fun :>

A: About a year! (Not in real time, obviously haha) This will be a oneshot eventually, and I'm very excited to write it!

#thanks to my friends for sending these in!! #everyone else feel free to ask more questions!! #toh #the owl house #toh au #the owl house au #toh eda #toh raine #toh hunter #raeda

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

3, 5, 30 and 35! :3

Pls take it easy, Wifi!! Your big moth will be there to make sure you're okay!!

thank you thank you!!! i would love big moth hugs right now- i kept him in mind to help ease my nerves hehe :))

all the numbers you asked for have been answered!!! 3 and 35 can be found here, and 5 and 30 can be found here!!! :D

#chit chat #anon #big moth hugs..... *nods* #yeah. very good. excellent #ALSO ANON FEEL FREE TO SEND MORE QUESTIONS EVERYONE IS ALLOWED TO SEND MORE QUESTIONS #i actually really love ask games its a fun way to get to know people!!! #the thing i was worried about is over luckily!!!! stressful but i am destressing as we speak :D #(by thinking of moth. it's by thinking of moth) #*does a little dance* moth good. moth wonderful <333 #sorry my dear i'm rambling hehe ;v;;;

[wikagirl]

one might think after how many collages i've made and how much time I've spent squinting at concept artwork for borderland characters I would somewhat understands how the fashion in that friggin uiverse works but here I am, once again, struggeling to come up with an alternative outfit for one of my ocs because everything feels too not-borderlandsy

#borderlands #borderlands oc #I'm trying to come up with a “fancy” outfit #like something to wear to new years eve #or one of these upper class dinner parties #you know the ones where in movies the dudes always wear suits and the girls wear these fancy tailored dresses #and everyone is drinking overly expensive champagne and eating these tiny fancy appetizers #and usually if there's a scene like that in a movie there is also someone getting assassinated or a heist is going on in the background #oddly specific I know #actually let's get more specific even #the party in the movie “mortdecai” with jhonny depp with the bad shellfish #basicly that vibe but also borderlandsy but also the character needs to have a big poofy skirt #bc her whole silhouette is vaguely inspired by lolita fashion #at least when she's wearing dresses or skirts #I swear this makes sense in my brain #send help #like actually if you have input feel free togive it #oc in question is #gigi hale #EDIt: I'm struggeling with all my borderlands ocs #gigi is just the only one I've posted about so far on here

[gauntletqueen]

Hi! how long have you been doing streams?

Hi thanks for the question!

Somewhere in early 2019! I did edited gameplay content on youtube before that in 2018. In both cases I didn't really have much success, and in both cases I called it quits a few months in because, while I was having fun, I was finding it hard to find stuff to talk about, and also was still in college so I had to focus on that.

Later that same year I did pick it back up, this time joined by my dear dear friend @king-catboy as co-host, which helped a lot! I've been at it ever since, but only became a Vtuber in Januari of 2021. Streaming is really a learning process and I hope I can become better at it still :>

#once again unable to keep my answers short sahhgaf #Thanks again!! Hope I gave a good answer :> #asks #katyscoolblog #feel free to send me more asks everyone! #yknow questions n stuff #I'm happy to answer them :>

[084392]

Ooh, yes!! Can you talk more about absol's role in the au?

Ok so i like to think that he replaces rt hero in this au more than anyone else? As in he's a human turned Pokemon from another world sent to help preserve the peace?? Except instead of stopping a meteor hes supposed to kill Gengar LOL.

.......sorry i think I've shared all of this before but uhm........😅

#g&g au tag #Thank you for the question tho!! #@everyone feel free to send in more ggau asks!!

[iridescene]

sun, moon, taurus, capricorn! <3

sun ⇢ name 5 (more) things you like about yourself?

in being kind to reality, i have learnt to understand it better, and am thus able glean the fruitful and serendipitous from instances of adversity.

i am more observant than most.

details are like dominoes: each one part of a greater scheme, a single unit colliding into the next to realise a masterpiece in their collective destination. while details come to me with more immediacy than most, i have come to perceive them as pieces of a greater puzzle; and thus do not miss the forest for the trees.

with proper guidance, i'm a fast learner.

because i've elected to live detached from the norm, i've developed a predilection for the unorthodox and thus deem myself able to offer novel perspectives on things.

moon ⇢ do you suppress your feelings?

answered here!

taurus ⇢ what's your favorite food?

some really hot and spicy mala soup with vermicelli noodles! preferably one that doesn't let up on the chilli oil, but isn't lacking in sichuan peppercorn for that amazing numbing feeling either...

you know hijikata from gintama and his relationship with mayonnaise? that's me with chilli and spicy food in general.

capricorn ⇢ what's your ideal job?

putting aside all semblance of practicality... i would love to be a traveling artist.

i thought about this for a bit, and a thought that came to me even before the question of passion was, 'something that doesn't tether me to one place for a long stretch of time'. i dream of being someone who gets clients from all over the world and travels to their respective locales to create works of art for them! of course, high-end scenes of posh minimalism and calculative formality as frequented by the bourgeois are far from my ideal work setting ⁠— i'd instead like to work with and for common, everyday folk, doing commissions for mosaics on a quaint town square or murals on the sides of buildings, maybe even a framed panorama in oil for an independently/family-owned business!

astrology asks!

#thank u so much jo!! this was once again v fun!! #everyone who sees this pls feel free to send more <3 it would make me very happy #:outlook: #<- u can refer to this tag for questions i've already answered #rieia

[knifeslidez]

I want to know more abt u

ok im desperately bored at work so here's some Ghoul Fun Facts

- both of my pinky fingers have clinodactyly (aka they're crooked and curl towards toward the rest of my fingers)

- i can carry full conversations pig latin and will do so at random

- the only bones that i've broken are two of my right toes

- im (hopefully) going to graduate high school with two college credits

- i once hit the high note in "all i wanted" by paramore despite it being far out of my normal range

- i have pretty bad vision

- i can speak spanish, french, and italian conversationally (tho my italian is admittedly quite rusty)

- i have a total of three dogs and a cat

#hope this is what u meant by ''more about me'' #and i love to talk so everyone feel free to send me random questions or whatever #especially today cuz im v bored #asks #ghoul groans

[wellthatschaotic]

asked the system "what would happen if tumblr was introduced to your source"

eli: i think itd be pretty similar to here tbh. memes. hating authority. yknow

edyn: *laughing* i'd rather not think about it,, nothing good

aerwyn: even if we could see screens correctly i doubt anyone would use it. then again i could be wrong

isla: oh thats a really good question actually..i feel like itd be a Young Generation Thing and the older fae would like sneer at the rambunctious use of words

akai: idk man i never talked to people anyway

hunter: i think we already had it (sir???)

#not everyone can be included in this question bc 1) not everyone is here 2) we have a surprising amount of people from earth #also if you have any more sys-wide questions feel free to send them in! #chaos chitters

[hollowedstreets]

scenario: a mix of the first and second bullet points over here! a bit of backstory/personality: over here! because i’ve been too lazy to add an actual bio sheet for him yet whoops open to: friends, co-workers, friends’ older siblings, former flings??, etc. (muses/fcs 30yo+ only pls! and while not necessary, supernatural/fantasy type muses are always welcome!!)

          Work exhausted the young witch to no end - who was he kidding? His family did that plenty all on their own - and one of the highlights of his day was making his way home for some solitude. That didn’t always stop him from exploring the city for other ways to unwind, however, and the pure enjoyment he got out of catching looks from his neighbors the following mornings were almost as satisfying as the acts themselves.

          Robert could come off a little shameless in the way he spoke of his exploits - the complete opposite of “don’t kiss and tell” while being strangely respectful in the form of keeping personal details of his bedmates secret - and was pleasantly surprised to find someone who didn’t mind his rambling on. Sure, they’d shared some stories of their own, but plenty of their conversations had been fun and innocent too - which is why the last few weeks of radio silence from them had completely caught the young man off guard.

          “Hey, did I do something to offend you? Stick my foot one too many times in my mouth, perhaps?” Robbie questioned nonchalantly when the elevator door closed, hoping his lighthearted tone might help put them at ease. “Because it’d be a real bummer if we stopped talking altogether - not sure I could ever live it down if my brother and sister found out I scared off my favorite friend.” He flashed them a genuine smile next, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the nearest wall, eyes casually taking note of the other’s expression. “So, tell me, what did I do and how can I make up for it so we can go back to normal already?”

#indie spn rp #indie tvd rp #indie tw rp #indie gay rp #indie bi rp #{ open starter } #{ starters; robert o'connor } #{ listen please feel free to send all the questions about this dweeb our way } #{ i've got an insane amount of muse for him it's a bit unreal } #{ we're also down to do something completely different because i know slice of life isn't for everyone } #{ i'll honestly probably toss something a little more serious out in a couple of days from him because he's up for just about anything }

[ohbother2]

Okay….Adam sfw and nsfw headcanons? I cannot believe I have begun to simp after this trashbag DAMN YOU ALEX BRIGHTMAN-

I have an admission... I fucking love Adam pls keep sending Adam requests in I can't get enough of this man

Also, sorry I've been MIA, I've got a lot of deadlines coming up so updates will be more spaced out over the next few weeks :)

I love Adam but he's quite difficult to write, so pls lmk what you guys think! I tried to keep him in character! (This was far longer than planned lol I just love this man)

NSFW - Minors DNI

---

Adam x f!reader - General Headcannons

SFW

You'd been in heaven for many decades, possibly even centuries, before you had ever even entered Adam's radar

He was the 'original dick', as he liked to constantly remind everyone within shouting distance, and spent all of his time surrounded by the higher-ups of Heaven, attending meetings, court-hearings, and dealing with training his danger-tits army for the next extermination

It would take a lot to enter his radar, having to work your way into the correct circles, gain the right connections and attend the right events

But once you're in the circumference of society he haunts, you're on his radar immediately

He's a man with fine tastes, look at his previous wives, he has a type ("fucking bombshells" as he would describe them) and as soon as he sees you in his peripheral one afternoon he's zoned in and absolutely entranced

No one has ever said no to him before, so when you do, he's taken aback. Hiding his confusion and deep-rooted offence with a flippant comment "Oh, playing the hard to get game, babe? Lucky for you I fucking love the chase."

Inwardly, he's fucking fuming, why on earth would you reject him? Alas, he's sure he'll win you over eventually... right?

He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's a self-entitled piece of shit, but he's also determined, passionate, and is anything but a quitter

You will not know peace for months after your reject him

He'll storm into your office whenever he feels like it - which is whenever he has enough free time to do so - bugging you relentlessly as you try and finish your work. He never stops asking questions about you: your day, your hobbies, your love life, what're you doing after work tonight? He's free, he could take you somewhere nice, show you a real fun time

When you stop answering he starts bitching about his day to you, about the local gossip, about some Seraphim that pissed him off, about some bitch at the bar, which he could totally take you to, did he mention he was free tonight?

He doesn't just hound you at work, and you often find yourself coming to a screeching halt in the street and abruptly turning the other way when you spot his iconic mask - he's a tall man, his horns poking noticeably above the crowd as he tries to find any excuse to find and talk to you

When he gets really desperate, after months and months of unsuccessful attempts of gaining your attention, he finally turns to Lute with the all too familiar question "You're a woman, right? What do you-"

The advice she gives is not one he is happy to receive, 'stay away and tone it the fuck down', but he listens, ego taking a massive hit as he watches you carry on as normal

Funnily enough, you start to miss the annoying dick, and you begin to look forward to his far less frequent visits, which mainly consist of you both bumping into each other at work and making polite conversation

When he really can't take it anymore, and he happens to hear rumour about another man planning on asking you on a date, he practically breaks down your office door with a bouquet of flowers, thrusting them unhappily into your hands and asking incredibly politely for you to please go on a date with him

You're both surprised when you agree, and he can feel his face heating up beneath his mask as he whoops, calling a "I knew you'd come around babe, I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Can't wait to see what you wear." over his shoulder as he bustles back out of your office, practically vibrating until he can tell Lute the news

He's 'The Original Man', and once you become his girl there is nothing he wouldn't do for you - he's constantly swinging by your office and pulling away the less important paperwork, commenting that he can get one of his workers to do it and freeing up time for you both to hang out; he's constantly flying through your balcony with bags of some new takeaway and chatting about this amazing new food place he found as he drops the heavy bags on your counter; someone causing you trouble? If he can't personally deal with it due to some 'relationship' he has to upkeep, he's sure to inform Lute who will have the situation handled before sunset that same day

Basically, he has authority in Heaven, and he's going to use that to make your life as easy as possible

Having a bad day? He can fix that. Oh, not in the mood for sex? Well, he's an amazing cuddle buddy, and he has the softest wings, let him just grab some snacks from the kitchen and then get ready for a night on the sofa wrapped in his strong arms and soft wings

His wings are insanely soft, and big, and despite his best efforts, no matter how long you've both been dating, they will flutter if he hasn't seen you in an extended amount of time, or if you're wearing something particular nice - he can't control it and it thoroughly ruins his bad-boy persona

You're the only other person beside Lute who he feels comfortable with letting preen his wings, and after you start officially dating he only comes to you with the issue, batting his eyelashes and pleading with you to 'take care of him'. You do, and he always breaks his promise not to 'make it weird' until you give him a firm smack on the back of his head - he's fallen asleep more times than you can count with your hands in his wings

He returns the favour, of course, and he sticks to his word like a gentleman, hands remaining firmly against your wings and not daring to wander. He's not a saint, however, and he will whisper less-than-holy things in your ear as he works - he'll stop if you don't play along, and finds himself enjoying the innocent intimacy of it. If you do play along? Oh, boy, his hands don't stay on your wings for long

He uses his wings a lot in his body language, and in your initial stages of courting he'll constantly puff them out to make him seem bigger, trying to impress you with his sheer size - embarrassingly for you, it works

PDA is not approved of in heaven, so he has to maintain his distance from you in public but that is a completely different matter in private

He will take every opportunity to touch you, innocently, whether that be a had on your jaw to bring your attention back to him or to guide your gaze wherever he wants you to look, a hand on your bicep to pull you this way and that, a large hand between your shoulder blades if you're being too slow

In public, completely subconsciously, whichever wing is closest to you will outstretch, barely noticeable to the majority of people, corralling you in closer to his side, and protecting you from whatever might happen - there's no danger in heaven, but still, he likes to know you're safe, and his wings reflect that desire

In private, he's constantly got a hand on you, oftentimes both, on your arms, your shoulders, your waist, the small of your back, your thighs, fucking anywhere - he likes having you on his chest on the sofa, and he finds it funny when he tries to do the same and crushes the air from your lungs

He loves when you cook and he can just stand behind you with his chin propped on your head or shoulder and his arms around your waist. You constantly have to tell him off for whispering foul things in your ear, but he quickly shuts up when you threaten to send him away, his grip tightening against you as he pouts playfully and watches silently

He will actively stretch out his wing when it's cold or windy or rainy, shielding you from the elements with his large wings and loving the excuse to pull you close. "What're they gonna say babe? I'm just keeping you dry."

The biggest difficulty in your domestic lives is the housework, he's an old fashioned man and he's never really had to do housework before. He's gotten better throughout your relationship, but he still absolutely hates washing dishes, but he'll happily sit in the kitchen and keep you company and talk mindlessly as he watches you work. He always thanks you with a kiss

If you ever make him do it, expect to be sat on the counter right next to him and no you cannot leave until he's done and yes you will listen to him complain the entire time and yes he will always slap your ass with a wet hand as payback, cackling as you yell half-heartedly

Deep down, incredibly deep, oceanic levels of deep, past the many many levels of crude jokes and brash humour, of over-compensating confidence and attempted witty one-liners, past the smirk and the puffed chest and the domineering presence, is a man who is cripplingly doubtful and insecure - two of his wives have left him for the same man, and he's absolutely terrified (but would rather burn in the fiery pits of hell than ever admit it) that it's going to happen again

He can seem rude and brash and uncaring, but he really is trying his best, and he's desperate to prove to you, in his own way, how much he really cares (He's scared to admit even to himself how much losing you would crush him)

Because of this, no event is ever half-assed - it's your birthday? He's got the biggest cake he can find and he's made some of his exterminators set up a surprise birthday party for you. It's your anniversary? He's pretending he's forgotten until the morning of and suddenly you've got a reservation at one of the nicest and most in-demand places in all of Heaven

"Come on, sugar," He'd reprimand you mockingly, shit-eating grin on his face at your excitement "you really thought I'd forget my special girl?"

He can doubt himself sometimes, worrying about your feelings for him, but he hides his insecurities whenever you catch him in deep-thought with some lame sex-joke

He doesn't ever want to talk about his insecurities, and he'll never outright tell you what he fears more than anything, but you pick up on it after enough time together

You don't pry, but you do card your hands through his hair when you see his eyes go particularly glossy one afternoon, pressing a kiss to his temple and scratching at his scalp, making your way slowly to his wings and back and taking your sweet time. He closes his eyes and listens to you ramble about your day, which eventually turns into you rambling about him, how handsome he is, how hard he works, and how much you love him and how you don't know what you'd do without him

He doesn't realise it, but you say just the rights things he needs for him to regain that pep in his step and for his cocky words to have more meaning behind them

NSFW

He's the Original Dick, and you'd hope he had the goods to back up the talk with the amount of bragging he does

He does; he does have the goods, and some would say he's being humble because what the fuck

He's the oldest human in history - he's seen it all, done it all twice, and he's more than willing to share some of his tricks with you

He's too proud and self-centred to ever let you have complete control, but when he's particularly lazy he'll let you go on top (as rare as this occasion is) but he'll still guide you as best as he can, lifting you easily with his strong arms and sweet-talking you with his sharp tongue

The first time you ever see him without his god-awful mask is during an intimate moment - you're first intimate moment, where you downright refused to continue if he didn't take the cursed thing off his face

Again, he's insecure, and it takes a lot of reassurance and just the right amount of kisses on his jaw and neck for him to be convinced that taking his mask off was worth it

He lets you look at him for several moments, and then he's had enough and he took his mask off for a fucking reason and he's pulling you into his lap and kissing you properly for the fist time

You can compliment him later, he has other things on his mind right now, the main one being fucking you until you can't even conjure a coherent thought

After that encounter he slowly takes his mask off in private with you more and more, learning to appreciate how nice it was to be able to kiss your temple and actually feel you against his lips, as well as how nice it was to feel your lips against his cheek

Still keeps the mask on sometimes, especially when you ask so nicely

He absolutely loves receiving head, resting back in his office chair or against the back of the sofa and letting you get to work, grunts and groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your hair tightly and guide you exactly how he wants you

He will give head as well, he's not selfish by any means, but he much prefers kissing you as you fall apart beneath him - for him, he'd much rather swallow your screams and mutter dirty things in your ear as he brings you to release

Be careful with his wings, especially when he lets you preen them - gentle touches can easily be misinterpreted as passionate caresses and before you know it you're pinned on your back with a red-faced and disheveled looking Adam hovering above you, muttering about how you're a "fucking tease" and if "you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask, sugar. I'll never leave you wanting."

He knows the power of wings, and his heavy touches against your own when he needs to "Just sliding past babe, what's that fucking look for? Can't a man work?" are no accident. He loves getting you all wound up. He takes it as a personal challenge to do it in public, and his shit-eating grin remains the entire day before he's pressing you against the door of his office or your plush bed and muttering about how fucking needy you are.

He doesn't take being teased well, and he'll glare at you the entire time until he can do something about it - he'll have even less patience than usual, especially for people who aren't you, and often has to do damage-control after he's regained his bearings a few hours later

He's a big man, and he uses that to his full advantage, man-handling you with ease, positioning you exactly where he wants you, pinning both of your wrists easily with only one of his large hands, pushing your legs apart like butter

He can lift you easily, and he'll hold you against the wall, or countertop, or wherever the fuck you guys are, and he'll keep you there until he's done

Lute has walked in on you both far too many times, and she always hurtles back out of the door cursing at you both angrily

He likes pinning you beneath him, spreading his wings over your forms and completely shrouding you with his form - you're fucking his, and no one else will take that from him

He fucking loves dirty talk, and it's a challenge to get him to shut up - he'll carry on talking at you long after you're able to respond, and he'll just start talking about that instead: "Aw, look at you, can't even fucking say my name you're so fucking dumb for this c-"

As said before, he's insecure based on the way he lost his two previous wives and the reflects into the bedroom

If you do degrade him, he'll just challenge you, telling you you've obviously not learnt your fucking lesson and picking up the pace, desperate to prove he's the exact opposite of whatever had just spilled from your mouth - you'll pay for trying to goad him on, he won't relent until you're a babbling shaking mess, stuttering out apologies and taking back everything you had just dared to say to him

Any praise you offer him he absolutely laps up. Call him handsome, tell him your his, tell him there's no one else in the world who would ever compared to him, how good he's fucking you - he'll get so wrapped up in the praise he'll even stop talking, completely focussed on his task of making you feel good, making sure you know there's no one else who could give you what he does

Dig your hands into his wings and he becomes a groaning mess, and it'll only be a few seconds of you muttering those sweet praises in his ears and your nails digging into his wings before he's collapsing on top of you and panting raggedly, still trying to mutter out curses and praises through his gruff gasping

When he really loses control his wings will flap of their own accord, and you've had to completely clear your side tables because he kept accidentally smashing everything that was on them

He likes to rest afterwards, and he usually tries to encourage you into going another round.

He'll tug you into his sweaty side, pulling you half onto his chest as he breathes deeply, immediately asking if you enjoyed it, and when you agree, he'll always mutter something along the lines of "Of course you fucking did, it's me."

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin Hotel adam #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x reader #Hazbin Hotel Adam #Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader #Adam x reader #lute #Hazbin Hotel lute #Hazbin Hotel smut #Adam smut #Hazbin Hotel Adam smut #Hazbin Hotel x reader smut #smut