#forced domesticity

[5eraphim]

Yandere Heavy is an untapped well of infinite content! Can you do something with an S/O who's really sweet and gentle but doesn't like seeing Heavy be, well, so violent and brutal all the time? Like a pacifist! How would Yandere Heavy act around them? Would really love to see it!

Character: Heavy 🐻 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: HEAVY forced domesticity, infantilization, yandere, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, fear tactics, gender neutral reader,

Word Count: 1.5k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

There's a decent chance Heavy would struggle to understand the concept of pacifism. War and fighting are such a massive part of his lifestyle; imagining someone opposing this, embracing a path of complete nonviolence, this way of life baffles him.

Furthermore, Heavy might fear your opposition to war extends to himself as well and fears you think less of him for his violent ways and how he was practically born to fight. Heavy might feel a bit embarrassed about getting loud and physically rough whenever he gets excited and couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious around you because of it.

Unlike some of the more sadistic yanderes (like literally anyone on the support team), Heavy takes a little pride in seeing you scared, much less afraid of himself. While he's never been great at noticing or understanding the feelings of others, the look on your face when you see him returning home after a particularly nasty battle says it all.

Consider the relationship starting with Heavy developing feelings for a new team member, specifically another defense class member. Assuming the feelings are mutual, you couldn't help but feel a little horrified learning his primary role in the team is to soak up as much damage from the other side as possible to protect the rest. If anyone were built for such a task, it would be him, but it hardly makes watching him fight any easier to bear.

Assuming you were an honest-to-God pacifist, your position on the team wouldn't last long. (And momentarily ignoring how on earth a pacifist managed to find himself contracted into mercenary work.) After a day of senseless death and fighting over virtually nothing, seeing people you care about being brought to the brink of death only to be thrown right into battle was a living nightmare. You simply weren't cut out for mercenary work, and you were gone the day your contract was over.

A part of you wanted to stick around longer with Heavy, maybe even beg him to consider heading out with you, but what was the point? Even if you loved him, there was no way you could change his mind about abandoning the fight, especially not while he's got a family back home to provide for.

Saying goodbye would hurt too much. Instead, you left without a word.

Heavy was devastated the day he found out you were gone and refused to accept the idea that you were lost for good.

Realistically, his first course of action would be contacting Administrator or Ms. Pauling to try and obtain your contact information, and considering you're no longer under contract, either woman would turn the documents over to him without a second thought.

And by God, if you thought you felt guilty for walking out without telling Heavy anything before, you were downright mortified to see the look of concern and hurt on his face when he managed to find you.

Despite high emotions as well as your own shame for being caught trying to run away like this, Heavy would force you to sit and tell him why you left so suddenly without saying anything to him and being his blunt self, would want to know right away if you ran away because of something he did.

While Heavy wanted to make sure you were safe first, but when you confessed how it pained you to see him getting brutalized every day as the human meat shield, he failed to understand what you meant by this. Heavy was praised all his life for being the strong man who could soak up as much damage as he needed to in the name of protecting others. Heavy never considered why someone wouldn't want him to do what he does best.

An unhappy reunion turns into a sweet unofficial date, Heavy offering to help you unpack and settle down before he decides to move in with you full-time. (While he knows this is the right thing to do, a part of him hates granting you this, fearing you'd realize you preferred life alone than with him and go back on your request for him to move in with you.) 

Likes to pop in uninvited when you're alone for a little one-on-one time. It really gets Heavy going when he comes after a battle, thinking about the look of worry on your face when you greet him. Even though he's been patched up, the bandages frighten you, and you do your best to ensure everything is in place correctly and if there is more you could do for his injuries. If you were a pacifist before you joined the mercenary group, your time away from all the conflict has made you even softer.

Heavy is about to call you a baby as a joke when he realizes that's exactly what happened to you when you left the team.

You were making it so easy for him to infantilize you for wimping out of the war, then moving out to the shoddiest little room you could afford to look for extra money until you could really get back on your own two feet again made you look so desperate and needy. Even if you weren't begging Heavy to help provide for you and keep you company, it's what you desperately needed. Confessing your affection for him when he found you; it made perfect sense in his head.

When he eventually does move in, he starts acting differently right off the bat. He insists you let him cover finances and rent so you can focus on finding a better place to work. You want to disagree. Sure, his job pays well, but it's wrong to leech off him like that, even if you were in a relationship. However, you don't say no for too long despite good intentions. Heavy's offer is too good to refuse, and he knows it. 

If the guilt of accepting such support from Heavy wasn't bad enough, things would worsen when Heavy would insist on taking baths with you, reading to you before bed, and cooking for both of you on top of working. You hated feeling so impotent and passive in your own life, but when he was already doing so much for you, wouldn't you deny his request to care for you however he wanted?

Little by little, life with Heavy changed in ways you couldn't understand and despised. Heavy felt distant like the two of you weren't talking like you used to. He withdrew in the bedroom, and things never progressed past kissing or cuddling. You were frustrated and felt like Heavy's overly gentle and smothering behavior made you feel like his child, not his partner.

You officially snapped when Heavy proposed a new rule: you weren't allowed to leave the house while he was gone. Claiming this was for your safety, he didn't like the idea of something happening to you, and he wouldn't find you. Breaking down into tears, begging him to stop babying you, and you were a grown adult, and this wasn't healthy for either of you. To your horror, despite all but begging on your knees for him to do the right thing and end the relationship, he smiled. As though grimly satisfied you finally realized precisely what was going on here and asked if you needed to rest since you were getting so fussy. And from that moment on, you knew your fate was sealed.

Any fleeting thoughts of trying to escape were crushed when you were not so subtly reminded. Heavy kept a copy of your personal file and private information he obtained from the Administrator, and if you were to try to escape, he would know exactly where to go looking for you. And at best, find you quickly and take you back home, and at worst, take out his wrath on whatever poor family member or friend happened to answer the door.

The only person he would trust with information about harboring you like a hostage is Medic. Primarily because if something were to happen to you, Medic is the only person he would trust to take care of you. Medic might get involved physically a few times but is more curious to observe than anything else.

Despite a great deal of indecision and inner turmoil over struggling between wanting to make you happier and proving he's not some violent monster and knowing this is how he has always been, odds are he'll choose to stay true to what he believes to be his genuine nature. To embrace living as he was meant to. Even if he's not entirely happy with us, it's just how it's meant to be.

Heavy is a mother bear to his core and protecting smaller, less able people is what he has to do. There's nothing you or even he can do about it at the end of the day.

#anonymous #x reader #yandere #self ship #request #forced domesticity #conditioning #captivity #forced intimacy #yandere x reader #yandere tf2 #tf2 x reader #yandere team fortress 2 #tf2 heavy x reader #headcanons #toxic relationship #smut #yancore #gender neutral reader

[whumpshaped]

prev masterlist

tw intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, lashing out, conditioning, captivity, forced domesticity

Sion didn't know what Aaron liked to eat. They never bothered to ask. They saw what things went missing one by one from the fridge, occasionally they even ate together and they could see what he preferred. That was all the background knowledge they had as they tried to assemble a nice sandwich for him.

He was having one of his worse days. There were better ones, there were worse ones... this one was definitely one where he just wanted to be alone without anyone even looking in his direction. That meant not leaving the bedroom. Not eating. Sion hated when he did that, and they were going to put a stop to it with a nice gesture.

In exchange for that gesture, Aaron was going to cheer up a little and talk to them about what was wrong. They were going to solve it together. They were going to communicate without throwing things and having to resort to knocking anyone out.

Sion put the second piece of bread on top of the finished meal, empty eyes fixed on the plate and the promise of a better day. If Aaron wasn't going to honour the gesture– no, that was silly. Of course he was going to honour it. That was how life worked, wasn't it? Nice gestures yielded nice results. Simple.

They grabbed the plate and put it on a tray along with a glass of juice. They walked up the stairs to find the bedroom door closed, and they balanced the food in one hand as they gently pushed it open.

"Don't," Aaron said immediately, sounding more scared than angry. "Don't. Please. Just let me be."

"It's okay." They put on their best soothing act, which wasn't very difficult to do when he was being so adorable. "I brought you some food. You need to eat."

"Did you drug it?" he asked bitterly. "Again?"

"It's just a sandwich. You can take it apart and look inside if that's what you want."

"And the drink?"

Sion sighed. "I guess you can't take that apart." They placed the tray on the nightstand, then sat on the bed and patted the space next to them. "You need to stop sitting on the floor in the corner."

Aaron shrugged. "I like it here. Way better than being on the bed. With you."

Sometimes, putting on their best soothing act was difficult even with Aaron around. Increasingly, they were beginning to suspect that his attitude wasn't going to change without some serious work on their part. Or the muzzle.

"I would like you to eat so you can feel better. I know you're having a hard time today."

Aaron looked... offended? "Today? Today? You think I'm only having a hard time some days? And you think you can solve it with a fucking sandwich?" He stood up, clearly ready to defend himself; which at least meant he knew he was pissing them off. That was a start.

"You could at least try eating–"

"Go fuck yourself. Bring your stupid sandwich with you."

Sion stood up without thinking, grabbing Aaron and spinning him around, slamming him against the wall with his arm wrenched behind his back. It was quick, it was efficient, but it was also maybe rougher than it needed to be. He let out a pitiful yelp at the impact, and several more when they started pushing his arm to its limits.

"Do you think you're the only one having bad days? Do you think I never have a fucking bad day? Do you think you can just continue speaking to me like I'm a piece of trash and never face any consequences? Well, today you can't, because I'm having a bad fucking day."

"Get off me–"

Sion pulled him away from the wall a little, only to slam him back against it with more force. "But I decided I'd pour all my effort into caring for you regardless. I made you food, I made you a drink, I was trying my best to make sure you would at least have a good day. Because I hate to see you fucking sad. Meanwhile you spend all your days lounging around and making me feel like shit. Do you have any idea what it feels like to get rejected like that over and over and over again?"

Aaron sniffled, clearly shaken and scared by the sudden outburst. He didn't react, and that only made them angrier. He was supposed to react. He was supposed to see the error of his ways, and he was supposed to change. So they pushed his arm further up.

"Stop!" he cried out. "Stop, please, stop– I'm sorry!"

Sion let go instantly, like hitting a clicker so the dog would know exactly when the behaviour was correct. They let him back into his little corner again, cradling his injured arm and staring at them like they were about to kill him. For all he knew, they could've been.

They couldn't lie, though. The sight of his red, tear-soaked face made their day just a little better.

"I brought you a sandwich," they said gently, offering him a chance to start over. He looked confused at first, but he was smart enough to catch on before they lost their patience.

"Thanks," he choked out.

"You wanna try it?"

Aaron nodded, but he took another minute to peel himself away from the wall and slowly approach the bed and the tray of food. His eyes kept darting back and forth between them and his meal, and Sion gave him an encouraging smile.

"Can I see what's in it? I, I'm allergic to some things–"

"Go on."

He nodded gratefully, quickly picking apart the sandwich and throwing the tomatoes to the side of the plate.

"You're allergic to tomatoes?"

Aaron flinched at the question. "I... no. I just don't– I don't like them. I'm sure the rest of it is very tasty, and I appreciate the effort you put into it." He offered them a forced and very nervous little smile. "I'm sure it'll nake my day a lot better."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @hidden-dreamland

#feelings over facts <3 #sion #aaron #whump #whump writing #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #lashing out #conditioning #captivity #forced domesticity

[whumblr]

Morning rituals

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

The sound of the alarm forced him from a deep sleep and it took him a while to realise what the sound was and what the follow-up action should be.

Wake up. Turn it off. Get up. Preferably in that order.

But as Jay shifted under the blankets to reach out, a weight fell onto his shoulder, pushing him back into his mattress and he fully woke, remembering the night’s events.

Zayne leaned over him, weight fully on his forearm across Jay’s shoulder blades, and reached over him to turn the alarm off. Jay couldn’t help some bitter sarcastic thoughts that he didn’t air. So sorry for disturbing your sleep here, man. My bad for not being fast enough.

But, as always, it was like Zayne could just sniff out any form of discontent and was always determined to make it worse.

The pressure increased as he felt Zayne lower over him, two arms now crossing over his back as Zayne rested on top of him. Hot breath swept against the nape of his neck and purred a whisper in his ear.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“Get off me.”

Zayne fell back but lingered close.

“You have to go to work.”

“Don’t wanna,” Jay groaned into his pillow.

“Would you rather stay here?” the sweet voice cooed, leaving out the clear unspoken ‘with me’.

Jay still didn’t move but his eyes snapped open.

“No.”

A hand crept up under his shirt, sliding up over his back, touching over the welts and the cuts and settled in-between his shoulder blades.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He had tried very hard that night to ignore Zayne sneaking into the flat, tiptoeing into the bedroom. Had pretended very hard to be fast asleep. But unfortunately, he had made a mistake.

His leg had brushed out from under the blanket, now very vulnerable resting on top of the duvet, foot almost dangling off the end of the bed.

Rookie mistake, his child-self chastised him; that’s how the monsters get ya.

In those twenty years or so however, the monsters had changed form. No longer did they lurk underneath beds or in closets; now they came with knives in the dead of night.

And something cold and sharp ran lightly over his heel, slowly scratching up to the ball of his foot.

With a very unflattering high-pitched noise he yanked his leg back under the safety of the blanket, before it could reach – or bite off – his toes.

The monster let out a soft chuckle.

He retracted his claws with a soft metal click and Jay relaxed bit, until he heard the soft sound of a belt buckle being undone, the silence of the room and his own fear amplifying the jingling and he remained very still.

He didn’t dare look up and he tensed as the duvet next to him flipped up, ready for pain, ready for the swipe of the belt.

But Zayne just climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up, leaving his knife, his belt – and hopefully his bad intentions – in his jeans now draped over the chair.

Jay waited for a minute, sure something bad would still follow. But when nothing happened – thankfully – and he heard Zayne’s soft rhythmic breathing, he allowed himself to relax and fall back asleep.

And now in the morning, the monster didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke or retreated to his dark abyss at the break of dawn. No, it just lingered in his bed. Cooed soft morning threats in his ear and followed him about as he tried to get ready for the day. And it would continue to follow him for the rest of the day in the form of a morning temper that throughout the day would never let up.

“Tell me, dear Jay, do you snore?” Zayne said, waiting patiently for his breakfast.

“I’ve never had complaints,” Jay answered gruffly as he bustled about the kitchen making breakfast for two and lunch at the same time. All the while trying to check the news and keep an eye on the threat at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, that’s cause you live alone.”

Not anymore it seems, unfortunately…

“Why, did I keep you awake?” What a gosh darn shame that would be.

“Nah, I sleep through anything.”

“Even strangulation?” Jay tried with a vague hope.

Zayne snorted at that. “Maybe. I don’t recommend you try, though. I have a bit of a morning temper when forced from a deep slumber. Need my beauty sleep and all that.” How monster-like.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jay grunted and swiftly caught two pieces of toast popping up.

“Two more for me, please,” Zayne said sweetly.

Jay slammed a jar of marmalade a little too forcefully in front of Zayne’s plate and leaned forward on it.

“I’m starting to wonder if I should start asking for an allowance or just send a monthly bill to Emery.”

“Sure, just know it all gets added to the amount I have to pay off,” Zayne said as he wrestled the jar out from under Jay’s hand. “So in the long run, if you wanna get rid of me soon… not the best idea.”

Jay hesitated to ask as he joined him. “How much is your debt?” Despite Zayne’s financial troubles, all he seemed to deprive him of was sleep, peace of mind, and his food. Jay never found money or valuables missing. Still, he would gladly give up his TV or something in return for peace.

Zayne guffawed softly. “You asking if you can help pay me off? Not in a lifetime. If I were to pawn everything you got here,” he gestured around with his breadknife and shrugged, “wouldn’t make a dent.”

Jay’s turn to scoff. “Then groceries for a week wouldn’t matter either.”

A mischievous smirk crossed over Zayne’s face. “You know what you’re asking, right?”

“For you to stop acting like a freeloader.”

“And that I'll start acting like a responsible…“ he left a pause, waiting for Jay to finish with the for him dreaded word.

But Jay didn’t bite.

“You are not a roommate. You're a parasite.”

“What a mean thing to say,” Zayne half-sniffled as he spread a copious amount of marmalade over his toast, but he recovered quickly. “Maybe get chocolate spread next time.”

“I will not get chocolate spread.”

“It’s been a real long time since I had chocolate spread and gooey chocolate on toast is so good.”

“Do you know what’s also been a real long time…” Jay remarked bitterly. “Since I had a peaceful, painless life. I’ll get you your Nutella if you piss off into the night forever after that.”

Zayne just munched his toast, considering, and then said. “Yeah, I’ll just get you that bag of groceries…”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @snuffhimout @susiequaz12 @coldresolve @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpinggoodtime @starnight-whump @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime

#spoiler: then he didnt #whump #whump writing #angst #home invasion #threats #knifeplay #forced domesticity #home is where the hurt is #hiwthi #hiwthi drabbles #my writing #I settled on jay asking for an allowance because I couldnt find a right translation for a dutch term for living expenses #but ugh anyway #also zayne would totally lurk under the bed

[deunmiu-dessie]

sorry, was thinking about doing domestic things with fiancé!ghost, like making cookies and him messing up something in the process 💀--- cause even though ghost is good at most things, this man does not have a cooking bone in his body, maybe he can make a few simple meals but for the most part ( something you taught him btw ), he'll leave the meals and meal prep to you ( besides, he enjoys ur cooking ). so when you pull him to the kitchen and ask him to make cookies with you, he's reluctant but of course he agrees, ( he'd burn the world if you asked ) though, making cookies is a lot harder than he expected😭

"si, the butter--- it's burning."

your fiancé, always standing so tall and imposing, is slightly hunched over the stove wearing your pink apron that you had 'forced' ( wouldn't call it that since he literally bent down so you could put it on him but... ) over his head. despite him being so focused on the task at hand, he'd ended up burning the butter rather than browning it.

"ah fuckin' hell."

he stirs it for one moment more before looking down at you, "y'sure we can't use it?" he mellows at your beaming smile, deflating as you shake your head.

"simon, baby, it's basically tar."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ (rehehehehe how simon looks most days when youre teaching him to bake.)

connected with this post!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #tf141 #task force 141 #simon riley x small!reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x y/n #writers on tumblr #sunshine!reader #size difference #domestic ghost #domestic fluff #fluff #simon cant cook #HE'D THINK HE'S DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB #AND THEN YOU WALK OVER AND PAT HIS BUM AND SHAKE YOUR HEAD #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #gender neutral reader #simon x reader #deunmiu dessie

[sprout-fics]

No no you don't understand.

I need. I need these boys to decide that having four separate residences is far too much of a hassle when they're all involved in a committed relationship with each other and with you. The constant shuffling from flat to flat to Price's too small house with the tiny garden isn't enough. I need them to spend weeks looking at finances and listings and finally settling on a huge, neglected property in the countryside surrounded by farmland and walking lanes.

I need them to show up to this place and seeing the shutters hanging by a single nail, cobwebs collecting in corners and overgrown hedges leading up to the house. I need them to roll up their sleeves and set to putting the place to rights with enthusiasm turned frustration turned delight as they work.

Soap gleefully knocks down walls, Simon keeps Gaz from falling off the roof by catching his pant leg while they mend the singles, Price stands in the garage and tries to figure out the lawnmower that may be older than them all. You focus on logistics of ordering furniture, feel the boys pass by behind you and point out things they like and dislike, squabble over details like gaming systems and couches. They enlist your help in cleaning the chimney, and you laugh when you end up covered in soot.

The plumbing systems are upgraded, new windows are installed, you pick out some fancy lighting fixtures that Simon nearly drops while putting them up. You help Price put down new wood floors, and rub his shoulders while you take a break in the afternoon sunshine. You and Gaz travel to the furniture store about an hour away still covered in paint from trying swatches for your bedroom, and end up needing to come back for a second trip to buy all the linens and towels you all could possibly need (they're on sale)

The boys watch on with exhaustion and pride as you command the movers to place the new dining table and bed frames where they need to go, and they grumble when you turn to them expectantly to do the rest of the work. Gaz gets out of it by offering to make you all a home cooked meal, and you all slouch around your new tables with full bellies and warm hearts.

You get dirt under your fingernails as you plant violets by the front gate, and Simon takes you by the back door to show you a vixen and her two kits playing just beyond the fence. You await Price's return from the recycling center eagerly to show him the finished tile in the bathroom, your cheek flecked with caulk. You watch his smile, hear Soap's delighted laughter from the attic as he discovers an aged, unopened bottle of scotch left by the previous owners.

It takes weeks, months for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all you're exhausted. When the mailbox is fixed at last, you all look to each other as if to say 'Is this it? Is this everything?' and try to remember the things you forgot. There are none.

Price makes you all a pot roast that night, and you and Gaz set to making enough sides to feed a small army. It's the best meal you've ever had. After, when the dishes are done and drying, Soap puts on a movie that you all watch with bleary eyes. You fall asleep against Simon's shoulder, sharing a blanket with Gaz. The fireplace flickers warmly. The movie fades to a distant murmur. You hear Price say something clever, hear Soap snort as you drift off.

You're home.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #x reader #musings #Daydream domesticity fantasy au

[dhmis-autism]

listened to The Bradys and thought about duck again you all know what that means

#dhmis #dhmis duck #me art #it MEANS i start thinking about duck and forced domesticity and we are a family arent we and sheer delusion #and 1950s wife getups and mixing all that shiny plasticity with the gore and wet felt of the dhmis world #AND i make a reference to Pearl ( the movie) :] #it just KEEPS HAPPENING... I JUST KEEP THINKING OF THAT DAMN BIRD #Anyways. putting this on Art That Makes No Fucking Sense unless you Know Me #and if this makes no sense to u well guess u dont know me :p #[SCREAMING AND CLENCHING MY FISTS] I'M JUST TRYING TO BE YOUR LADY!!!!! YOUR PERFECT MISS BRADY!!!!!!!! #my duck art is just gonna keep getting nicher and nicher until i die

[the-shotce-newsletter]

Finished the MW3 Fix-It I started back in November!! They all have a nice long weekend in the snow as our man recovers, Gaz has spiked hot chocolate, Soap Atholl Brose and Price some sleep. Ghost just needs his Johnny. Yes that’s a wee Laswell and her wife in the background.

The idea for atholl brose cocktail and cranachan I got from this incredible fic, a def Must Read about Johnny trying to find his feet again after being medically discharged with the help of his crazy but loving family. The ANGST, but also soft feels and the awkward but passionate ghostsoap? Delicious. I had a fic hangover. The Scotty dog tat Simon has is a ref to several fics I sadly don’t recall the names of.

#ghostsoap #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #kate laswell #Kate Laswell’s wife #modern warfare #domestic fluff #johnny soap mactavish #fic art #my art #neil ellice #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #simon riley #samuel roukin #elliot knight #barry sloane #kyle garrick #john price #call of duty #modern warfare 3 #look ma i tried to draw a background #fix it #tf 141

[forestshadow-wolf]

The duality of a fire in the snow is a little ironic, isn't it?

What's even more so, is losing everyone you ever cared about on Christmas day, they one day you gather your entire family around... and then burning their house down around them.

Which is why Ghost had never expected to celebrate such a day ever again.

It is also why he thinks it, not unpleasantly odd, that he now stands in a lit bathroom, two days before christmas day. Just before the sink, standing between his Johnny's legs, getting scolded for smiling while said man shaves his face for him.

He knows, distantly, that just outside the building, stands a great bonfire in the light falling of snowflakes, surrounded by his family.

And that- well, he never thought he'd ever have that before. It feels so surreal. It's Christmas. He's happy. Happier than he's ever been, he realizes.

And he can't quite get the smile to leave his face so soap can finish shaving the last of his patchy beard. Instead he lunges forward, smearing shaving cream from his face onto soap's, as he goes in to steal. Kiss, and neither of them can contain their giggles.

Soap asks him what's got him all smile-y today, and he just answers "I'm happy." And that really is all there is to it. He finally has everything he's ever wanted, what's not to smile about.

Soap tells him that's good (which they both know is the understatement of the century) and tells him to hold still so he can finish up.

And then he can't remember who dragged who outside, but that's where they end up. Outside, sharing a beer with the rest of the 141 around the warm bonfire, all bundled up nice and warm. He wears the mask only to keep his nose and ears from freezing off.

Someone throws a snowball, and all hell breaks loose. Enemies are made, alliance formed. Betrayls of every kind, even between lovers, as snow gets shoved down shirt collars. Enemies become reluctant allies. Until they return to the bonfire, cold and laughing, and there they roast marshmallows and share funny stories.

And simon is happy.

#Christmas #domestic 141 #idiot force 141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #el rambles

[plaguedocboi]

It bothers me when people say “cats domesticated themselves”. Yes I guess that’s technically true but it’s only true because Everything domesticated itself.

People nowadays view domestication as this thing humans forced on animals as a way to Dominate Nature or whatever but it’s not. No caveman was out there forcibly typing up a wolf until it learned to love them. Domestication happened because humans and animals were just hanging out in the same places and some of the animals decided they liked being around the humans.

The only exception is maybe plants but we still domesticated the ones that were easy to cultivate and liked the habitats we made for them. It would be next to impossible to truly domesticate something that doesn’t “want” to be domesticated. It requires two willing participants

#if an animal didn’t want to be domesticated it could just leave. like they all were into this #that’s part of why I don’t care for the ‘domesticated foxes’ thing because this IS being forced on them

[saturncodedstarlette]

Captain Price, drinking tea :

Laswell, also drinking tea :

The rest of the 141 creating chaos :

Laswell, turns to Price : How many kids do you have?

Captain Price, does a dad sigh :

Captain Price : Biologically? Emotionally? Or legally?

Captain Price, continues drinking tea :

🍵

Laswell, sees the fondness in his weary eyes :

#Cod #Call of duty #Call of duty incorrect quotes #Call of duty x reader #Cod Captain Price #Captain Price #John Price #Captain John Price #Cod Laswell #Kate Laswell #Kate Watcher Laswell #Cod x reader fluff #Call of duty domestic #original : generate prompt #this is strictly platonic #I hc that Price adopts Ghost 🤭 #Task Force 141 #Task Force 141 x reader #Captain Price x reader #Captain Price x you #Call of duty fluff #1k notes

[furiousgoldfish]

when done to children it's called 'discipline' when done to adults it's called 'violent assault' and also 'torture'

#child abuse #abusive parents #domestic violence #violent parents #assault disguised as discipline #any hitting or forcing you against your will is assault #any deprivation of food or sleep or shelter or basic resources is torture

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Heyo! ( not me having to look up eastern time cause I'm not in that ) (((if I sent this at the wrong time just ignore I'm so sorry)))

Okie (also sorry if I don't format this completely correctly) May I request Sebek with the prompt rainy night? (Romantic please, and for emojis maybe 🍁✨️, and if possible fluff) and for backup characters ummm Vil with prompt 1 and Epel with prompt 7.

Gosh I hope I did that right. Anyways thank you Dove! I hope that you have a great rest of your day. Also, make sure to be taking breaks and time for yourself! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Thank you! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Rainy Night; Sebek Zigvolt

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; No need to worry, everything looks great, Faye! I completely forgot about the emojis, but I tried my best to fit them in. Enjoy some Becky content! WOE, CROCODILE BE UPON THEE!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

So much for a perfect seaside getaway, but Sebek could not account for a freak storm, so the two of you were stuck inside for the night, and reservations at the restaurant were cancelled due to the downpour. So, he was in a bit of a sour mood, hanging above him much like the dark storm clouds in the sky. Yet you weren’t in such a dire mood, and that helped take his mind off of things… somewhat.

“Aren’t you upset that our reservation was cancelled,” he huffed, turning his glare to the storm outside which seemed to mock him, slapping large leaves against the glass, which was like the storm slapping him in the face. “You were looking forward to it more than me.”

You looked over your shoulder, taking in the rare sight of Sebek in comfy clothes. To be fair the only reason he was wearing the fluffy pyjama pants and a white tank top was because you had gifted them to him. Even though it was something as simple as sleep clothes, Sebek treasured them.

“We can always go another night, sweetie,” you hummed, “besides, I would rather eat your cooking any night.” 

Sebek grumbled but didn’t argue with you, knowing full well that you would just shower him with sweet yet incredibly embarrassing praise for what he deemed as mediocre cooking at best. To be fair, you did call him your ‘pookie-bear’ in front of Malleus and Lilia — yeah, he nearly died that day, and Silver brings it up every now and then. 

“Besides,” you blew off the dust from a book, “I would rather read with you!” 

So that’s what you were searching for? A book? Sebek raised an eyebrow. You would rather read a book with him? And Sebek felt his face heating up. The two of you had been together for quite some time now, but Sebek always went warm when you did something simple, small, yet sweet. Those would leave him more pink and more warm than any grand gesture, because they weren’t planned. They were just something you naturally did, and that flustered him like nothing else.

Sebek cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “And what has caught your attention, love?” Even with his terms of endearment, he was formal, respectful.

You waddled over, and showed him the cover. “Crocodile Knight!” 

“A children’s picture book?” Sebek hadn’t seen that book since he was a kid, and it did bring back some fond memories for him, but he still wondered why you looked so excited.

“Mhm!” You plopped next to Sebek on the couch, worming yourself next to his side until you were practically trying to merge with him. “Plus you’re my knight, and a crocodile, seems fitting! So, can you read it to me? Pretty pleaseeeeeee? My big, strong, scaly, knight?”

Sebek felt himself grow warm in the face and knew his ears must have been glowing from your giggling. He knew that he should have saved showing you the itty bitty scales that he had until later, but you had insisted on seeing them. “I-I guess I can read you a bit,” he surrendered, knowing that you would win this one.

He started reading, his voice steady and strong, only wavering when he felt you shift beside him. But he stopped reading when he felt your head rest against his shoulder. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he made direct eye contact with you; you were looking at him and not the book.

“I thought you wanted me to read this to you,” Sebek restrained himself from letting his loud nature win, making his voice crack a bit. “But you’re looking at me instead of the book?!”

You sighed, and placed a kiss to his jaw, which made him get quiet real fast. “Because you’re my crocodile knight, my beautiful crocodile knight,” you murmured.

Sebek closed the book, putting a bookmark in place so the two of you could revisit it at a later time. There was no chance that he could focus on reading when you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes.

So, instead, the two of you got into a comfortable cuddling position, got cozy under some blankets, and fell asleep in each other’s arms with the sound of rain and thunder aiding you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Tags; @xxoomiii @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @ryker-writes [come get ur mans]

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x gn reader #i call sebek becky because i think it's 1) cute 2) funny & 3) would piss him off/embarrass him #also SEBEK WITH HIS HAIR DOWN SEBEK WITH HIS HAIR DOWN- i want to see him in some comfy clothes P L E A S E #reader; pookie-bear - #silver; pookie-bear? *on the brink of laughing* | malleus; i do not see the bear you speak of | lilia; *takes a photo* #sebek; *dies and everyone calls him pookie-bear from now on in diasomnia* #just imagine calling sebek the cheesiest pet names under the sun; it's free dopamine for me #pov: reader domesticates a crocodile #i technically finished this on august 21 at 10:30 PM EST but i'm forcing myself to 1 post per day; so this is scheduled

[whumpshaped]

the specific brand of yandere whumper that is actually delusional, and convinced that whumpee is just as in love with them as they are with them. or that they will fall in love eventually, because their romantic gestures are simply too sweet to be ignored. it's not an act or anything. they whole heartedly believe it, and see nothing wrong with their own actions, since they're clearly all governed by unconditional love.

whumpee bounces between lashing out and trying to make whumper see that they're out of their mind, and playing along to placate them because actually maybe they don't want to see how whumper would react to their fantasy world falling apart around them

#whump #whump prompt #yandere whumper #delusions #captivity #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #forced domesticity #forced intimacy

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Imagine

Sewing and mending your clothes after a mission

This is highly specific and detailed but I love the idea. Also domestic 141 is the best thing!!

Laying low after a mission is definitely not the best part of your job. You often times find yourself stuck in an old safe house with your teammates, sharing a small space with them, while not knowing when you’ll be able to go back on the field.

But there surely is one thing that these days can offer you, is some time to think, process the things you’ve seen and get some rest. And as you are forced to figuratively mend and repair your mind, you often take advantage of the peace and quiet to literally mend and repair your equipment; clothes, gear, tools or weapons… anything that could’ve been damaged during your latest intervention.

The whole habitation is quiet as you make your way to the living area. Your teammates are there. Price is watching some obscure documentary about the fishing industry in South America on the telly, the sound brought to a minimum. Soap is mindlessly doodling in his journal, not looking particularly satisfied with his work. Gaz is taking a nap slouched on the couch beside Price, he’s probably tried watching the documentary, didn’t work out too well…

And Ghost is quietly cleaning his pistol, methodically clearing every little piece of any gunk, grime and leftover powder. The clicking of the metal pieces give a rhythm to the silence. You hate to interrupt such a peaceful picture so you speak quietly.

“Hey,” you start, a few eyes moving over to look at you, “I’m gonna take some time to sew up a few things. Got anything that needs mending?” you ask them.

“I’m good, thanks for the thought, though,” Price responds with a gentle smile that warms your heart a little. You nod and turn to Soap.

“I don’t think so, Lass, but thanks.” He can’t think of anything off the top of his head for now, so you finally look at Ghost. His back is slightly turned to you, you can see him looking back slightly and responding with a shrug.

He’s been way quieter around you lately, you noticed. But Ghost is Ghost, right? So you don’t really pay him any mind and give one last nod before going back into your room. On your way there, you don’t notice Price’s slight head movement directed towards Ghost. And behind the door of your room, you don’t hear the husky sigh Ghost let out as he stands up from his seat.

You��re sitting on the edge of your bed, legs crossed as you silently pass your needle through the fabric of your torn tank top. It’s not major tear, nothing a quick stitching can’t fix. You’re focused in your task when a light knock on your door makes you look up.

Ghost is slowly entering your room, his gaze fleeing yours. As it often does lately. He speaks quietly, his voice still very composed, just like every time you’re working out there on the field, precise and efficient.

“Do you have a spare needle?” he asks. You notice the balaclava in his hand before he holds it out slightly in front of you. “I need to repair this,” he finishes. You look at him for a moment, trying to keep your thoughts at bay. He requesting your help with anything outside the field was not unheard of, but it was still pretty new… Why does he look so cute?

“Sure, there you go,” you respond, picking a small needle and some black thread in your tiny sewing kit. You hand the objects to him and he takes them with a grateful nod. He looks about to leave when he stops in his tracks, not sure if he should ask you.

“This is a knit fabric, I’m not sure how to…” he starts hesitantly, showing you the piece of clothing again, “go about it,” he concludes. You fight the small smile pulling at the corner of your lips and pat the empty space on the bed covers beside you.

“I’ll show you, if you want,” you say and he complies surprisingly quickly.

In your line of work, whether it be on skin or cloth, a man needs to learn out to sew. It’s a primordial skill when you’re in a survival situation, to keep your clothes functional. Ghost in an intelligent man, you realize he probably knows how to take care of his stuff beyond just keeping his guns working.

But even you find knit fabrics tricky to work with. One wrong stitch and the next time you use your item, it might very well run enough to render it unusable. And your heart flutters at the idea of him asking you for help, even for such a tiny little thing.

Ghost sits beside you, the mattress dipping ever so slightly, making you lean towards him just a little. He prepares his needle and thread while you put your own work aside. Once this is done, you locate the small hole in the balaclava he’s laid on his thigh to free his hands. You hand it back to him, pointing towards the repair area.

“First, you need to thread all the loops left open to stop it from running,” you indicate. The loops you’re mentioning are tiny, but precision is your job, so they’re all threaded very soon and you can begin the real work.

“Then you can thread through that and darn it just like a woven fabric,” you say, mimicking the technique moving your finger back and forth. He starts mending the piece, using your advice.

The needle looks comically small in his massive hand. The size of things makes his movements quite awkward. And it doesn’t help that he’s holding the needle with the very tip of his fingers, barely touching it, as if he were afraid to do something wrong.

You smile gently at the sight and decide to help him further. Your fingers brush against his as you move his hand so he can work pushing the needle towards himself instead of away. A technique you’d found way more efficient over the years.

“It’ll be easier if you hold it from this side,” you say, your voice quiet and thoughtful. The voice he loves to hear rolling off your tongue and lips when you are close to him. “Guide the needle with your index and thumb and push it with your middle finger,” you explain as he watches your hands working his fingers into position with a curious eye. “Like this.”

He starts using your latest advice, religiously following your movements as you mimic the gesture in the air. He manages to work faster, his hand steadier. You smile. His needle work starts taking shape. “Nice work,” you say, turning your head to look at his face. His eyes are looking straight back at you. For once in quite some time now, his gaze doesn’t dart away from yours. It just gently moves to your slightly parted lips and stays there for a moment. A moment that doesn’t last nearly long enough for him.

#simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod mw2 fanfic #ghost cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #ghost call of duty #ghost x you #ghost x reader #reader insert #imagine #soft ghost #fluff #task force 141 #domestic fluff

[engie-the-profit]

and finally infinites 91-100. technically the thing ended on day 97, as thats when the dlc came out, but i had a few requests left over so i extended it a bit to be able to finish them up. another perfect streak of daily drawings (applaud now) :)

part 1 part 9

#engies daily dogs #my art #infinite the jackal #sonic forces #shadfinite #that domestic wedding au is still taking up space in my mind. ive gotta finish that mini fic #gadget the wolf #shadow the hedgehog #barry the quokka #mephiles the dark #sonic frontiers #the end #conquering storm #i cant believe thats her actual name. archie is crazy #sth

[ruporas]

can’t help falling for you

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #nicolas d wolfwood #my spin on how they started to really fall for each other tbh..... i mean #my hc is that vash fell first --> hence ch 21 -- which is kind of funny bc they had a lot of back and forths and conflict between one anothe #but i Cannot be convinced otherwise that when vash woke up and saw wolfwood bedridden next to him #that expression alone was filled with so much worry and care and i think that feeling of gratitude and knowing wolfwood had survived pushed #the level of affection.... also those few chapters where theyre just hanging out in the ship honestly feels so domestic amongst everything #which is the kind of atmosphere where i think vash thrives upon the most and is able to feel #comfortable and open to relieve any inner buried feelings... #for wolfwood id like to think he always felt a little drawn to vash due to not only his mission but also bc vash Forces him to be worried #all the time so-- he's just always on the mind and coupled with their initial opposing ideologies #i think ultimately in ch 35 is when he stopped having any feelings of doubt in vash and caved to realizing that he /wants/ to protect him #and also just loves him. a lot! #anyway this is so gushy but i love them so much #these thoughts plague me #ruporas art