i'm 19, so, minors shoo (i remembered to update my age after my birthday LMAO)
fair warning, I tend to spam like and reblog a lot of things, so I apologize for your notifications.
this updates every like once a year or smthn when I decide to come out of hibernation :p
i roleplay and draw, maybe write occasionally here and there, but nothing extremely major or eye catching
DNI
if you're under the age of 18, please don't interact with me, for I am 19 :)
don't even attempt to interact with me if you're the scum of the earth, ie; homophobic, transphobic, some kind of pedophile, etc; because you're nasty and I don't like people like you.
if you know me from any other social media platform, no, you do not <3
interests
game wise, I have over 1600 games on steam :')
Some personal/reoccurring favorites:
Phasmaphobia
Outlast trials / Outlast 1 and 2
Stardew valley
Minecraft
Deadlock
Undertale / Deltarune
COD
Destiny 2
Cookie Run Kingdom
TF2
fandom wise, I jump in and out of many constantly. i may leave one, but they're never forgotten:
COD
Undertale
Deltarune
Demon slayer
JJK
BNHA
Cookie Run Kingdom
TF2
a lot more that I can't think of at this current moment thumbs up emoji
Being restless and unable to settle down for sleep, so nikto playfights with you to wear you out :(
He's careful as well. Allowing you to batter and squirm and climb all over him, whilst he occasionally tosses you onto your back gently- calloused hands squeezing at your soft waist, lightly tickling under your sleep shirt at your sides to make you kick and squirm in a bundle of joyous laughter and squeals. Nikto who smiles quietly down at you, climbing on top of you slowly as you attempt to wiggle around from him.
"so restless. What are we going to do with our sweet one, hm?". He'll hum lowly. Watching you patiently as he let's you scramble away, his frosty blue gaze following , before grasping your ankle in his big hand to drag you back under him. Softly tickling at your sides with deft fingertips, light and playful. Placates your pleading giggles with wet raspberry kisses nestled against your neck. Rests his weight down on you to pin you down on the fresh bedsheets, letting you kick and squirm and struggle. Your frustrated whimpered pleads and promises acknowledged, but bemusedly heard. Your little 'Andre, please' met with a soft low reply of 'hm? Yes llubov? What is the matter, tell us'.
His playing stops when you eventually tire yourself out. Breathing heavy and worn out, limbs limp and slow, eyes barely keeping themselves open. He'll pity his sweet thing- soothing a few kisses over your face as if you were a little sleepy kitten being groomed lovingly, before tucking you back into bed against his chest.
Your husband always knows how to wear you out no matter the occasion.
( Donald Ferguson x coworker!reader || MAJOR spoilers for Invincible s2, mentions of character death, HUGE angst but w/ a happy ending )
"I feel like we've done this before." Donald comments, adjusting his glasses as he looks down at his ice cream cone. He got vanilla, not because he liked vanilla, but because they ran out of the flavor he usually got. How could they run out of rocky road?
"You mean going on a date?" you ask with a laugh, licking the melted ice cream dripping down the back of your hand. "No, I mean..." Donald goes quiet. What was he even talking about? It all happened so fast, meeting you at the GDA, finally talking to you, all of it.
Like it's happened before.
He pauses, his lips form a faint line as he adjusts his glasses again. "Forget what I said." Donald shakes his head, his free hand going towards the collar of his shirt out of habit, adjusting a tie that wasn't even there. For a moment, the man could swear he could see the smile on your face falter.
He clears his throat, fixing his posture against the park bench. "I hope I'm not ruining the date." he says, looking away from you. "Don't worry, Donnie," you hug his shoulder, trying to make him feel better. "You're probably just stressed from all that nagging from the big man." you say, referring to Cecil, which makes him feel slightly better. He smiles slightly, leaning his head against yours.
You knew things Donald didn't. You've done this before.
Donald was your boyfriend, your soon-to-be fiance, that was until he died. Over and over again. It was hard trying to make him remember you as his fiance. Wiping his memories of the things he's seen while protecting the people also erased his memories of you. Every single time.
It was hard for you to swallow the fact that the man beside you didn't recognize you, at least in the romantic sense. You grew tired of trying to teach him about how you first met at the GDA, how he proposed to you at your favorite bakery, all of it. Donald knew who you were- he knew your name, the division you worked in, but still. Looking at him made you feel like you were looking at a ghost. You were there when he first died, and the image of him from that day was burnt into your brain. In your head, like a burning memory.
Donald feels the side of your head against him, he stiffens slightly, not used to the feeling of someone being this close beside him.
"Hey..." he looks down at you through the lenses of his glasses, peeking through the gaps as he looks at the crown of your head. "Are you okay?" He asks, nudging your shoulder. "You seem more out of it than me." He chuckles to himself nervously, smiling down at you.
"Oh I'm fine." you smile at him in reassurance, hoping your smile didn't look too forced. As of now, and ever since he 'died' you've been anything but.
Donald senses that something's off.
He's felt that way for a while. There was just...something in the way you smiled. His lips purse together as he come up with something to say, but he refrains from it. He didn't want to sour the date any further.
Quickly, he begins to eat his ice cream, almost shoving the cone into his mouth. The sudden change in pace catches you off guard, making you laugh again. "Calm down, Donnie! Jesus!" hearing you laugh did something to him.
It was only the first date of many for him, and yet he was already falling in love with you.
autistic reader who hates buying new clothes because of all the overwhelming amount of lights and people in stores and the fact that you think the clothes are dirty, too many people are nasty and you find it disgusting
boyfriend könig who understands and tries to do most of the touching so you don’t have to feel dirty and won’t let you hold the clothes unless you need to try them on and even then he will be helpful in any way he can, won’t touch you unless you ask for a hand and then provide you with some hand sanitizer to make you feel safer
Nikto, always distant, always cold, always shrugging off the idea of an Omega -especially having one of his own.
Never one to acknowledge questions from other Alpha's, let alone even entertain the idea that someone as damaged as him even stood a chance.
The aftermath of Victor Zakhaev leaving him less than. Broken, scarred and disfigured - a beast hidden by cloth and Kevlar - leaving both his appearance and his scent hidden.
His scent gland had been mutilated anyways, what good would it serve to parade around when he was mistaken for a Beta on several occasions, and worse - an aggressive Omega - on another.
And then you came along, all wide-eyed wonder and saccharin scent that tugged on the loneliness that'd grown roots in between his ribs. He'd told himself you hadn't picked up on him, hadn't given him more than a glance, but you certainly had.
Taking your chances and nuzzling up to the beast and attempting to share your chow with him. Even went as far to ask for sparring matches just to smell more of him.
And eventually he obliged.
Sparring matches went to shared meals, shared meals to shared leave.
And leave found this same beast nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, tongue hesitantly lapping at where your scent gland would be in a profoundly intimate gesture.
"You make it... quieter, solnyshka," He rumbles against the heated skin of your neck, hot air puffing until you get goosebumps.
Hi everyone! It's been a long time, but unfortunately this isn't the return to fandom I posted about a while ago. I explain the situation a bit below - but while I don't (and won't) go into detail about what happened, I do mention police/gun violence. TLDR at the end.
A few months ago, one of my family members narrowly survived being shot by boarder control. She's no longer in the immediate danger zone, but the nature of the wounds were extremely severe and will impair her for the rest of her life.
I've been processing, grieving, and taking care of my family and myself as much as possible. With her making progress in her recovery, I feel like I'm in a place to interact with social communities again.
I explain the situation because I will no longer be writing for COD or interacting with COD content. I have complex feelings about everything and at this point, it causes me more distress than anything.
I am beyond grateful for everyone I've met and interacted with in the COD fandom. I have truly enjoyed writing for this fandom, and growing as a writer. Everyone's comments, fanart, reblogs, messages, and asks were a delight and will always hold a place in my heart.
What does this mean for the future?
I am going to continue writing, my focus is branching towards other fandoms and more original work.
This blog is going to remain up with all its content, but I will not be updating it, reblogging to it, or answering asks. I know there are several stories that have been left unfinished, and I know that's disappointing. Please do not try to continue them or upload them to any AI to finish them. I'd like them to just remain as they are.
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading and for all the love and support during my stint in the COD fandom. I hope I get to see you guys on the next project <3
TL;DR: I am not writing for COD anymore. This blog will remain up but inactive. Please do not try to continue any of my stories or upload them to AI to finish them.
