#Bert Large

[fashioninpaper]

[redhatmeg]

I see they're pulling Grinch on Doc Martin, but to be fair, he's a Grinch in his own, special "why tf Santa is scratching himself" way.

Like, Elf Bert, my man, you should have seen this coming, given how often your restuarant got accused of being the source of mass food poisoning.

[keekity]

space pirate and the contraband cute android she just can't seem to get rid of

@minamill the other one is coming >;)

[ask-sentient-vehicles]

What are Miniature Bert’s favourite and least favourite parts of being a little engine?

Bert: I'm glad you asked. As a little engine I enjoy the countryside as well as pulling coaches. It's a serene atmosphere. I like to engage with the people. Us miniature engines develop closer bonds with the environment. The world is a playground for us!

There's a catch to that, though. See, for a standard or narrow gauge engine a person's face is just two lines and a mouth. For us, well - the face of The Small Controller is so uncanny that I feel as if he's staring at my soul. Don't tell him that, though.

[stardestroyer81]

Well, well, it looks like somebody would like to say hello! Uh, but who exactly might they be...?

Meet Rascal! Rascal is the star of a faux arcade game I one day hope to bring to fruition, and for the past week or two, I have been drawing him and the other colorful characters in the Rascal cast nonstop! There were several different ways I thought about introducing this character to followers of my blog, though @shrimpuufriend and @stephysalcido suggested I ought to make this cute animation of him waving to start it all off!

Expect to see more Rascal content in the near future, because let me tell you— there's a lot of it! 🍬🧡💙🧡🍬

[isildurreborn]

my recent hobby has been putting muppet heads on family photos, and photos of my friends.

[makedamnsvre]

i turned off infinite scrolling where it makes things in pages to see if it will let me go further in search. like when i search [redacted] it only lets me go like .... 4 months back. i wanna see if i can get to posts from years ago. yes this will make me die to death but its okay

[peachypixelpop]

Paws and Claws

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x curvyf!reader | smut | 6k

SUMMARY | Your dog Bert accidentally knocks up Dogpool which leads to a meet cute with an angry Wolverine.

WARNINGS | Meet cute (but make it intense) kinda enemies, to friends to lovers, mutual yearning, daddy wolverine, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humour, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, piv s*x, what refractory period? we die like men, You know he talks you through it.

RATING | Explicit

NOTES | Okay so this is my first ever Tumblr spicy oneshot, soooo thoughts and feedback are so welcome. Enjoy my loves <3

“You,” he snarled, teeth bared as he thrust what could only be described as a pot-bellied gremlin toward your face.

“Me?” you splutter, glancing between the feral-looking man in front of you and the small creature he held in his hands.

“Yeah! You’ve got some audacity coming back here after what you’ve done,” he spat, gesturing around the park while transferring the small creature to his large bicep, cradling it against his impressively muscular chest.

The ‘here’ he was referring to was your local park, currently hosting its weekly ‘Social Snout Society.’ You had moved for work, and the event seemed like a great way to meet fellow dog owners.

And in a way, it had. You’d made friends with.  many of the regulars and had grown your social circle considerably. There was the sweet young couple who kept trying to set you up with their ‘friend,’ and the lovely old lady, Barbara, who always offered your dog peanut butter-filled treats.

But then, there was him. The one person you couldn’t quite figure out. He was always standing off to the side, averse to socialising, with his thick arms crossed over a plaid shirt as he watched the dogs run around. There was something about his presence—an air of brooding mystery—that made it hard to ignore him. You’d caught yourself staring a few times—how could you not? He was handsome in a rugged, roguish Clint Eastwood sort of way. But more than that, he was The Wolverine. Yes, that Wolverine—the legendary superhero from the X-Men who fought bad guys and saved the world.

Each time he caught you looking, you quickly glanced away, your face turning a brilliant shade of red as you desperately tried to distract yourself by calling your dog over.

You had pegged him as the type who would own a large, intimidating dog—a mastiff, a rottweiler, or maybe a German shepherd. So, when the social was winding down and you saw a tiny Pugese bounding over to him, you couldn’t believe your eyes. The little dog, all stubby legs and wrinkled face, leaped into the gruff man’s arms with surprising agility. Its long tongue lolled out, swiping affectionately at his mutton chops as he caught it effortlessly. The sight of this fierce-looking man cradling such a small, adorable dog was almost too much to process, and you had to stifle a laugh at the unexpected contrast.

“What’s going on?” you finally manage to ask, your voice shaky as you look at the small creature nestled against his chest.

“Listen, bub, this clueless act ain’t gonna cut it with me. You can see what you’ve done,” he said, his voice rough like gravel. He adjusted his grip on the little dog, gently supporting its neck and bum as he sat it up slightly. You leaned in, taking in the wide brown eyes that blinked up at you as the dog gave a quick yawn, shifting in the man’s arms. Its little red leather outfit was twisted slightly around its body, looking snugger than usual.

“This—” he growled, nodding toward the Pugese, “is Mary. And thanks to your sausage, she’s gonna have puppies!”

You blink in confusion. “My—wait, Bert? You’re talking about Bert?”

“Who else?” he huffed, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “Your daschund knocked up my dog!”

As if summoned, Bert appeared between your legs, huffing loudly from his sprint back from Barbara, a smudge of peanut butter on his lips. He looked up at you and the angry man with a proud expression, oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

“Bert?” you repeat incredulously, trying to process the information. “But… but I swear he’s been fixed!”

“Yeah, well, he figured it out somehow,” the man muttered, still fuming. “Found out today at the vet—Mary’s knocked up, thanks to him”

You glanced at the small dog again and noticed how her little pot belly did seem more rotund than usual. She was happily wagging her curly tail, completely unaware of the drama unfolding.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, covering your mouth as you look at the little Pugese. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

“Neither did I!” he retorts, though his tone softens slightly as he sees the genuine surprise and concern in your eyes. “I mean, Mary is the last dog I’d expect to end up pregnant. She’s never even shown interest in other dogs.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you. Of all the things I expected today, getting chewed out by a grumpy, muscle-bound guy over a pregnant dog wasn’t one of them.

“How do you even know it was him? There are hundreds of dogs around here”

He huffed as if appalled you would even ask that.

“How could it not be him, I’ve seen him - sniffing around her” he spat. 

You side eyed Bert who had the audacity to flop on his back for a belly rub. It sounded exactly like him to your dismay. 

“I honestly don’t know what to say except sorry” you finally manage wincing as Bert let out a long whine at being ignored. 

“Just… keep an eye on your little Casanova,” he grumbled, rubbing Mary’s head. “We’re in this together now, whether we like it or not.”

“I really am sorry,” you say, reaching down to scoop up Bert, who was sniffing at the man’s shoes. Holding his little sausage body in one hand, you thrust a hand forward toward the man. “I’m Y/N. You’ve met Bert.”

The man eyed your hand for a second before clasping it in his own large one. “Logan,” he spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Listen, don’t worry. Bert won’t be an absent father. I’ll step up—I mean, he’ll step up—well, I suppose we’ll be there for you.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Mary, of course. Listen, I’m a girls’ girl, and the last thing I would do is—” You freeze as you realise you’re still gripping Logan’s large hand and shaking it like you’re sealing the most important business deal of your life. Quickly releasing his hand as if it were on fire, you take a step back and stare at the grass in embarrassment.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and tried not to get lost in his warm brown eyes. “Listen, can you give me your number or something so you can keep me updated?” You asked, shifting Bert on your arm.

“I don’t have a phone,” he said awkwardly.

“Right,” you responded, feeling mortified. It seemed clear he wanted nothing to do with you.

“Okay, well, I’ll be around if you need me,” you said dejectedly. With twenty minutes left of the social, you just wanted to escape the awkwardness.

Before he could respond, you turned away and left the park, your ears burning red with embarrassment as Bert gently gnawed at your fingers.

You didn’t see Logan again, a couple of weeks had passed since the man had confronted you about Bert’s promiscuous behaviour so you were surprised to find a bright pink envelope on your floor when you arrived home from work.

🎉🐶 PAW-TEE ALERT! 🐶🎉 Hey there, Fur-tastic Friends! Guess what time it is? It’s time to celebrate the most adorable, waggliest, and undeniably cutest thing in the universe—PUPPIES! Yep, you heard me right. Wade is throwing the ultimate Puppy Shower and you’re on the VIP list. 🎉 Come dressed in your finest puppy-themed attire or don’t—either way, you’ll look fetching! 🐾 Please bring a treat for Mary, our star-of-the-show, and no, we’re not talking about your grandma’s fruitcake. 🍪 If you can’t make it, don’t worry. I’ll be sure to send you a selfie of me and Logan covered in puppy slobber. 📸 RSVP: Hit me up with your best bark or, if you’re feeling fancy, just send a text to [Contact Information Here]. Either way, let me know if you’re coming so we can prepare an appropriately excessive amount of dog treats and possibly a few questionable dog costumes. Pawsitively Excited, Wade & Logan xoxoxo P.S. If you think this is just a ploy to get free snacks and a chance to see Logan out of his grumpy shell, you might be right. But you’ll also be helping celebrate the imminent arrival of tiny, adorable puppies!

“Wade?” You murmured, running your finger over the red glitter hearts on the page. It made sense why Logan wasn’t single; he was undeniably gorgeous. But your brows furrowed as you tried to recall whether you had given Logan your address.

Glancing at Bert, who was sitting in front of his empty bowl and giving you a reproachful look, you sighed. “Time to step up, buddy.” You spoke to Bert, who huffed slightly in agreement and continued to paw at his dish.

When you arrived at Wade’s flat, you were surprised to realise it was only a few streets away from your own place. Bert whined softly as you lingered outside the door, feeling the weight of nerves flutter in your stomach. You could hear voices and music drifting from inside. Glancing down at your dog, you took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles on the door.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a tall man covered in a patchwork of scars. His expression was animated, and before you could say anything, he flashed a blinding smile.

“You must be Y/N! Come in, come in!” he greeted, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he ushered you and Bert inside.

“Thanks,” you replied, stepping into the cosy flat and carefully setting your wet umbrella near a pile of shoes and coats. Wade gave you a friendly hug as you shrugged off your raincoat, leaving you momentarily startled.

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Wade said, his tone warm and welcoming.

“You too! And, er, sorry again about the whole… getting your dog pregnant,” you replied, feeling a bit awkward.

“Pshhh, don’t worry about it! Our little Puppins is 90% G-spot, it was bound to happen sooner or later, the little tease,” Wade jokes, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Oh-oka—wait, Puppins?” you asked, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire conversation.

“Yeah, Mary—Mary Puppins,” Wade clarified with a wide grin, clearly proud of the clever name.

“Ah, now Bert’s name is starting to make sense,” you mused, the pieces finally clicking together in your mind.

“Yep, it’s very on-brand,” Wade replied, a mischievous glint in his eye as he let his thoughts wander for a moment. He shook his head slightly, snapping back to the present. “Anyway,” he continued, his tone shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness, “where is our little absent father?”

You glanced down, spotting Bert near your feet, his little tail wagging as if he understood that the spotlight was now on him. Bending down, you scooped up the dachshund, who was proudly sporting a tiny yellow bow tie, and handed him over to Wade.

“There he is!” Wade cooed, holding Bert up like a prized possession. “Someone went out for milk these past two weeks, huh? Poor Wolvy has been looking for your mama,” he added with a wink, turning to lead you both into the lounge.

Wade marched into the room, lifting Bert high above his head in a dramatic gesture. “Everyone, I present to you the baby daddy!” Wade declared with flair, holding Bert up like Simba in The Lion King. The room erupted in laughter and applause as the small group gathered around, showering Bert with attention and affection.

But then your attention shifted to your usual target, who was brooding near the kitchen, lingering near some red velvet cupcakes. You moved closer, your heart pounding as you took in his form that seemed to take up most of the kitchen.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you asked, reaching past him to grab a cupcake. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching your face for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, alright. How’s it going with you?” he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

“Good, great actually. Bert hasn’t gotten any other dogs pregnant,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“That’s good,” Logan replied, his tone a bit flat.

“You know what blokes are like, only thinking of one thing,” you blurted out without thinking, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth.

Logan raised a brow at you, his expression unreadable. “That right?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. To avoid saying anything else, you took a bite out of the cupcake. The texture was unexpectedly tough, and you found yourself chewing more vigorously than you’d anticipated.

Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, he reached out and gently wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“There was some icing,” he murmured, his voice suddenly softer, more of a rumble than his usual biting growl. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as your heart pounded in your chest.

He held your gaze a moment longer, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, that’s for dogs, right?”

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked down at the half-eaten cupcake in your hand. “What?”

“Wade’s idea of a joke,” Logan explained, clearly amused by your reaction. “He put them out with the regular food to mess with people.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “Oh my god…” you whispered, just before gagging as the aftertaste of beef hit your tongue. “Oh no, that’s disgusting!” you spluttered, wiping your mouth furiously as you tried to rid yourself of the flavour.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one he’s tricked,” Logan said, his smirk widening into a grin. You were momentarily taken aback, surprised by how the smile transformed his face, softening his usual stern expression and making him look years younger. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you as your cheeks flushed a tomato hue. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one he’s tricked,” Logan said, his smirk widening into a genuine grin that took you by surprise. The smile lit up his face, making him look years younger, almost boyish.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you as your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “Well, I guess it’s fitting. Bert and I are just full of surprises.”

“Seems that way,” Logan replied, his tone now more relaxed, a subtle hint of flirtation lacing his words. His eyes held yours, and for a brief moment, the air between you felt charged with an unspoken connection.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” he grumbled, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“Maybe not,” you teased back, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach. The intensity of his gaze made it hard to think straight, and you wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

Logan’s nostrils flared slightly, as if he were picking up on the tension between you. But before anything more could happen, Wade’s voice broke the moment.

“Ooh, this looks all cosy, doesn’t it, Wolvy?” Wade chirped smugly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took in the lack of space between the two of you.

“Fuck off,” Logan muttered, his jaw clenching as he shot Wade a glare.

“Spicy, this one isn’t he? Muy, muy caliente,” Wade ribbed, his grin widening as he revelled in the discomfort he was causing.

You glanced down to see Logan clenching his whisky glass tightly, a small hairline crack forming in the glass, his expression one of barely contained irritation.

“Could you pass me the little tux behind you?” Wade asked, clearly enjoying himself.

Logan turned around quickly, grabbed the small tux, and tossed it at the scarred man without a word.

“Thanks, Peanut,” Wade winked before chasing after Bert with a mischievous glint in his eye.

As you watched Wade prance off, you noticed the pained expression on Logan’s face. Trying to smooth over the situation, you decided to make conversation.

“So… how long have you two been together?” you asked, your tone light but genuinely curious.

Logan, who had just taken a swig of his whisky nearly choked, sputtering slightly as he wiped away the spilled liquid with a large hand. “What?” he spat, clearly taken aback.

You blinked slowly, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment. “Oh, sorry—I shouldn’t have presumed.”

“Listen, we aren’t together,” Logan clarified, his voice firm, though there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

“Oh… right,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Sorry, I just… assumed.”

Logan shook his head, exhaling out of his nose “We just live together while I look for a new place.”

“Got it,” you replied, feeling both relieved and a little silly for jumping to conclusions. The tension between you eased slightly, though you couldn’t help but notice the way Logan’s gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than necessary.

You were soon swept into a whirlwind of party games organised by Wade, each one more spirited than the last. During the festivities, you met their third roommate, known as "Blind Al," though you quickly insisted on simply calling her Al. You chatted to their other friends too, laughing at some of their wild stories until your stomach got a stitch and your jaw ached. 

As the evening wore on, the sky outside grew darker and darker, the stars twinkling faintly in the chilly night air. Feeling the onset of sleepiness, you decided it was time to head home. Logan, having observed your growing fatigue, volunteered to walk you back. At first, you insisted it wasn’t necessary, pointing out that you had Bert with you. 

Logan, however, let out a dismissive snort at the sight of your chunky dachshund, who was currently curled up and snoozing with half his face buried in a muffin. “Seriously, you’re letting this guy be your bodyguard?” Logan remarked with a smirk.

You sighed at the sight of Bert’s icing coated snout and, realising Logan’s offer was genuine, you conceded. “Alright, if you insist.”

With that, you both left the warm, lively flat, stepping out into the crisp night air as Logan guided you through the quiet streets toward your home. The walk was peaceful, the cool night air brushing against your skin, and the occasional rustle of leaves the only sound in the quiet neighbourhood.

When you reached your door, you lingered for a moment, cracking it open just enough for Bert to scamper inside and head straight to his bed, exhausted from the day’s excitement.

“Thanks for today. I really like your friends,” you said with a grin, noticing the unexpected softness in Logan’s eyes—a stark contrast to your initial meeting.

“Just my friends, huh?” he teased, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh yes, I suppose Mary is lovely too,” you teased back, looking up at him with a soft smile. The warmth between you was palpable, his large frame nearly filling your small hallway, making the space feel even more intimate. You could hear the faint buzz of your neighbours’ TV through the walls, a reminder of the world continuing on around you, yet in this moment, it felt like it was just the two of you.

Logan’s gaze held yours for a beat longer, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a fleeting second before he straightened up, breaking the tension just enough to breathe again. “Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly rough. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice softening.

As he turned to leave, you felt a sudden tug in your chest, an impulse you couldn't quite suppress. Before you knew it, you were calling out to him.

"Logan, wait."

He stopped and turned back to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension that had been simmering all evening. You took a small step closer, closing the gap between you.

"Today was... nice," you said, your voice almost a whisper now, "and I don’t really want it to end."

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, the playful banter from earlier replaced by something much more intense. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space of your hallway. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of him—something warm and earthy—filling your senses.

“It doesn’t have to,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment. Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against the stubble on his jaw. Logan’s breath caught at the touch, his eyes never leaving yours.

In that instant, the tension snapped. Logan closed the distance between you in one swift motion, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he had been holding himself back. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, your heart racing as you responded with equal fervour.

The world around you blurred as all your senses focused on the feel of his lips, the strength of his arms around you, the roughness of his stubble against your skin. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you—like he was claiming you, yet with a surprising gentleness that made your knees go weak.

You felt the arms round your waist pull you closer to his solid body, causing you to whimper and him to slip a tongue gently into your mouth.

You broke apart just enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other as you both struggled to steady your breathing. Logan’s hands were still on your waist, his grip firm yet comforting, grounding you as you struggled to level your breathing. 

“Come inside,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your hand slid from his jaw to rest against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Logan hesitated for a brief moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read what you truly wanted. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him because he nodded slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint, almost teasing smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

You stepped back, pulling him gently inside your flat, closing the door behind him. The click of the lock sounded louder in the quiet of your home. The cosiness of the small space wrapped around you both, the warmth and intimacy of it only heightening the tension that hummed between you.

You took his hand, guiding him deeper into the flat, past the soft glowing lamps outside and Bert who was already snoring softly in his bed, oblivious to the charged atmosphere filling the room.

Logan’s gaze was intense as he followed you, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. When you reached your bedroom, you turned to face him again, your heart in your throat as you searched his face, wondering if this was really happening.

Logan’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sent another shiver through you. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, slower this time, savouring each moment. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, the feel of his solid frame against yours grounding you even as your head spun.

Without breaking the kiss, Logan’s hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him as he walked you backward toward the bed. You went willingly, your heart pounding with anticipation and need, the heat between you building with every passing second.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you sank down onto the duvet, pulling Logan with you. He followed without hesitation, his body covering yours as you both tumbled onto the bed, the kiss never breaking, never slowing.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, marvelling at the feel of him—so strong, so present, so overwhelmingly real. Logan groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you as his hands began to explore, tracing the curves of your body as if committing them to memory.

You arched into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he kissed his way down your neck, his stubble grazing your skin in the most delicious way. The sensation was electrifying as you gulped back another whimper as his tongue slipped back into your mouth, tasting the whisky on his lips. 

As he slowly begins to undress you, You feel an overwhelming sense of vulnerability as he unzips your last article of clothing and pulls your skirt down. Sensing you freezing he stops.

“Hey, where did you go bub?” He whispers, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“It’s just, er, been a while and I've put on a bit of weight recently” you mumbled, unable to hold his gaze. 

Logan paused, his hands gently resting on your hips as he looked at you, his brow furrowing with concern. The intensity of the moment faded slightly as he took in your words, understanding the vulnerability you were feeling. He tilted your chin up softly, urging you to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised you. “You don’t have to hide from me. You’re beautiful, just the way you are.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the sincerity in his words sinking in. It had been so long since anyone had looked at you like this, let alone made you feel beautiful. Logan’s eyes were full of warmth, no judgement or hesitation, just blown pupils and an open gaze that made your chest tighten and your panties soak. 

He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light. “You’re perfect, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that resonated through you. “Every inch of you.”

His words were like a balm, easing the anxiety that had been bubbling beneath the surface. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hands held you with such care.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, grounding you in the moment. You felt the tension in your body slowly melt away, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest, as your heart started to race with excitement rather than fear. 

You took a deep breath, letting the anxiety flow out with the exhale, and nodded slightly. “I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.”

Logan’s expression softened further, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get that,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “But you don’t have to worry, not with me. I’m here, and I see you. All of you.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His hands moved with reverence, as if he was rediscovering every part of you, appreciating each touch, each breath, as if it was a gift.

Logan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of quiet reverence. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, but if you want to stop I will respect that, what do you want?”

“No I want this, I want you Logan.” You whispered, biting your lip. 

He leaned forward to kiss you again before pulling away your skirt and panties. He groaned at the sight of you glistening and swollen. “God you are incredible sweetheart” he groaned before leaning down.

“I wha-” You started before cutting yourself with a loud moan as he swiped over your clit. 

He drank from you like a man without water. The silence of the room is broken by the sound of his slurping and suckling. “I’ve been smelling you for weeks and you taste even sweeter than I imagined’ he whispered against you. 

Unable to answer him you continued to pant as he greedily ate you out. Grunting like an animal, his oral could only be described as animalistic as he pushed you towards that high. It was only when he added two thick fingers did you begin to wail as the stimulation overwhelmed you.

“That’s it sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, let go for me” He grunted as he continued to eat you out, the prickle of his beard between your thick thighs adding to the sensations as he rubbed his face into your pussy. 

When he crooked his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion that hit that sweet spongy spot inside of you. Something snaps inside as you whimper his name and come panting and wiggling on his face. 

As you came back to yourself you let out a whimper as you saw him smugly looking at you from between your thighs. Slowly rubbing you as you came down from your high. 

Standing up, you have to resist the urge to whine at the lack of fullness you feel and spy him suck his glistening fingers.  As Logan swiftly removed his clothes, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him—his body was beautiful, all toned muscle and solid mass, every muscle defined and glistening under the soft light. The intensity in his eyes never wavered as he tossed his shirt aside, revealing the expanse of his toned chest.

He moved with purpose, crawling onto the bed towards you like a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, each one making your pulse race. The heat between you was palpable, electrifying the air as he inched closer, his gaze locking onto yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sheer magnetism of his presence drawing you in, making you feel both excited and slightly nervous. 

When he finally reached you, his large hands framed your face as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both fierce and gentle, full of the passion you had felt building between you all night.

“I’m on the pill” You blurted out as he pulled back and you watched as his pupils dilated wider. 

“You sure bub?” he questioned.

You nodded fervently as a surge of confidence rushed through you and you pushed him back onto the mattress so you could climb on top of him. It really was unfair, he made it look so natural as he laid back on the duvet like a modern day adonis. 

Logan cursed when you sank on top of him. It took a few moments for you to be fully seated. When you were, you took a slow and deep breath as you felt his entire length inside of you. You had never felt so full. 

You wiggled your hips slightly as you tested the length of him inside you and his hands shot out to grip your soft hips. 

“Just a second darlin’” He growled, his face looked strained as he held you in place. 

“If i’m too heavy we can turn over” You spoke shyly conscious of how he seemed to grip tightly at your hips.

He chuckled as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth “No, No, It’s not that darlin’ you’re just so tight” He muttered before starting to thrust at you. 

You bit back a moan as you rode him. Large hands guiding you up and down as you bounced up and down, his cock rearranging your insides to make room for him, all of him. 

Leaning forward he took one of your nipples in his mouth and gently nibbled and sucked on it before moving on to the other one. You were unsure of how much time had passed but you soon found yourself coming on his cock. 

Unlatching from your nipple his hands went to your ass, taking over moving you as you came down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl taking all of me” he rumbled before flipping you over and pushing your knees back to your chest. 

In this position he felt even deeper inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way and nudging the spongy wall of your cervix. “Logan” you whimpered as you pulled him forward to kiss his lips as he lazily thrust into you stoking the fire in your stomach again. Wrapping your ankles above the curve of his ass you dreamily sighed into his mouth as the taste of whisky hit your tongue. 

Your skin was damp with sweat as you clung to him desperately as his thrusts built up again. 

“Think you can give me another one darlin’?” he questioned after he broke away from your lips and started kissing down your neck nibbling as he went. 

At this point you were on fire, legs numb and eyes rolling back into your head. You felt like he had taken everything from you, yet, as his fingers rubbed over your clit a spark shot through you as you keenly lifted your hips upwards to his barraging cock. 

“That’s a good girl, gonna fill you up” He grunted, taking the hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit and pressing down on your abdomen to make the space inside you even tighter. 

“Logan, I’m close” You whimpered at the stimulation. The sounds of his animalistic grunts and squelching filled the quiet room. 

“That’s it darlin’ come all over this cock for me” he growled as you felt the air get stolen from your lungs as you spasmed around him, muscles pulling him in as deep as possible. Hips stuttering, Logan followed you into your release pumping you full of his thick spend. You could feel the heat of it filling you up as some of it leaked out of the sides of his cock, your body simply incapable of holding the sheer volume of it. 

Rolling to the side he pulled you with him to lay on his chest as his cock stayed nestled deep inside of you twitching occasionally with the odd spurt, not quite finished filling you up. You hummed gently against his chest as his arms circled around you, warm and safe. 

"You okay, bub?" Logan grumbled softly, his deep voice carrying a warmth that sent a wave of comfort through you. He gently smoothed a few stray strands of hair back from your face, his touch tender against your skin. You sighed happily, nestling into the solid warmth of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

Tilting your head up to meet his gaze, you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so glad Bert knocked up your dog,” you said, a playful grin tugging at your lips. The absurdity of the situation, which had once felt mad, now seemed like the best thing that had ever happened.

Logan’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, who would've thought?" he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a rare, genuine smile. He reached down, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek. 

You shifted slightly and froze. Eyes widening in realisation at what was happening.  

“Logan…are you still?”

“Let’s hit number four” he growled.

[cripplecharacters]

Mods

[large text: Mods]

Sasza

[Large Text: Sasza]

Hi! My name is Sasza and I use he/him pronouns. I am a disabled artist who loves to write and draw characters like me! I am autistic, (mildly) intellectually disabled and have several physical conditions including-but-not-limited-to dyspraxia, severe hyperkyphosis, cranial nerve diseases (causing double vision, chronic pain and a facial difference among other things), and hypermobile joints. Sometimes I use a cane. I'm very passionate about accessibility and disability representation in all kinds of media - books, comics, video games, and any other kind of art that's out there!

Bert

[Large Text: Bert]

Hello! I'm Bert (previously Mason), and I use he/they pronouns. I am a writer who loves to write plays and fiction with characters like me and my friends. I am autistic and have ADHD, I have psychotic PTSD and a DID system. Physical health-wise I have migraines, fibromyalgia, and a lateral lisp. I love talking about representation and ways we can make a kinder and more inclusive space everywhere we go.

Sparrow

[large text: Sparrow]

Hi, I’m sparrow, they/he for me. I’m a disabled artist who makes a lot of disabled characters like myself and probably like a quarter of the world. I have autism and ADHD, among other brain things, as well as chronic pain in both my jaw and my knee and ankle. I also have POTS and some sort of sleep disorder. I am a sometimes cane user as well. I really enjoy research and thoughtful art that makes people feel seen. Aside from that, I am a huge fan of historical fiction and really enjoy fantasy as well.

Rot

[Large text: Rot]

My name is Rot, I use all pronouns including neo pronouns as well as any rot and insect themed nounself pronouns. I’m an artist who loves putting disability in my stories. I’m mostly undiagnosed due to medical neglect and have chronic fatigue, hypersomnia & chronic pain that ranges from mild to debilitating. My known disabilities are pots, ganglion cysts, nerve damage, tics, autism (level unknown), asthma, GERD, anxiety and psychosis. I have a metal implant, use a cane and am mostly verbal and use aac infrequently. I have experience with temporary palsy, needing carers (family members who stepped up, not hired carers) and being in a wheelchair, though I currently don't have any of those.

Virus

[Large Text: Virus]

Hello! I go by Virus and I use She/Her but anyone can use any pronouns for me, have fun with it. I'm a writer—mostly fanfiction—who has been in fandom very long and used to be a classical musician. I have Hypermobile Ehler Danlos Syndrome along with it's fun co-morbidities (MCAS, POTS, Gastroparesis, Fibromyalgia, and Von Willebrandes). I also have Pan-Hypopituitarism which is the following: Adrenal Insufficiency, Hypothyroidism, Diabetes Insipidus, Precocious Puberty, Growth Hormone Deficiency, Hyperprolactinemia/galactorrhea, as well as High Estrogen and Testosterone issues. I have Pituitary Dwarfism/Proportional Dwarfism, Myoclonic Epilepsy, and a Speech Disorder. I used to have a Port-a-cath, Picc-Lines, and a feeding tube, amongst many other things. Phew, now that that's over. I love every art form with a favour towards music, writing and the fiber arts. I love seeing representation no matter how big or small especially in medias that rep is often glossed over!

Rock

[Large Text: Rock]

Hi! I am Rock; any pronouns are okay. I am a writer, mainly of sci-fi and fantasy, and I love adding all sorts of disabled characters. I am hard of hearing (mild-moderate bilateral hearing loss) and have profound auditory processing disorder. I have scoliosis, POTS, and lower-body muscle weakness so I am a full-time mobility aid user. I am also intersex; I have several hormone deficiencies among other conditions as a result of my intersex variation. I am excited to join the mod team!

Aaron

[Large Text: Aaron]

Hey, I'm Aaron, he/him. I'm a writer of fantasy, science fiction, dystopia, utopia, and historical, and I like writing incorporating casts of disabled characters into all of them and reworking magic, technology, and science to accommodate them. I have a TBI, a lot wrong with my speech, cognitive issues, slight developmental disability, myofascial pain syndrome, medium support needs autistic but fully verbal, OCD, multiple types of anxiety, PTSD, depression, severe ADHD, dyslexia, dysgraphia, articulatory initiation anomia, medically significant migraines, a chronic headache, chronic pain, and chronic fatigue. I'm also visibly disabled (one of those people who looks autistic) and transmasc. And I can't wait to see what amazing things you guys come u with.

Zohar

[Large Text: Zohar]

Hello everyone! I'm a new mod, and you can call me Zohar. I'm a writer of fantasy and sci-fi for the most part, and definitely prioritize disability, LGBT, and Indigenous representation in my work. I am Blind with a form of Albinism/strabismus/ptosis, along with some hearing loss. I am intersex/transgender with mixed gonadal dysgenesis (XO/XY Turner Syndrome) that goes hand in hand with GHD/pituitary dwarfism and affects my skeletal and hormonal health. I also have POTS and complex DID caused by RAMCOA and am comfortable answering asks about that. He or She pronouns is fine with me. I can't wait to help out here!

Icarus

[Large Text: Icarus]

Hello all! My name is Icarus (He/Him). I'm a new mod here and a writer of original work (Primarily contemporary short fiction and cosmic horror) with some fanfiction on the side. I have been diagnosed with ADHD, autism, PTSD, Tourette's Syndrome along with several other mental and physical health conditions. I also had epilepsy, asthma, and a heart condition as a child but have since grown out of them. I am currently seeking a diagnosis for something causing a few different symptoms including chronic pain, mobility issues, sensitivity in my joints/bones, progressive vision loss (Currently to the point where I have very little to no peripheral vision), and dizziness/fainting episodes. I am a full time cane user at the advice of my physio. I am also a gay trans man and in full-time university studies.

Jess

[Large text: Jess]

Hey y'all! I'm Jess, and I use she/her. I'm 35, and I work full time behind the scenes in the grocery industry (in an office, designing shelf layouts!). I enjoy writing and reading slice-of-life stories mostly. I especially like exploring how certain magical elements can be parallels for disability. I also do art, including some 3D illusion chalk art. As for my disabilities: I have multiple sclerosis, and a few issues that have come from that, including severe permanent damage from optic neuritis. I was briefly 100% blind in my left eye, but a small amount of vision returned. The residual vision causes some hard-to-describe double vision, so I wear a completely opaque occlusive contact lens on my bad eye to help me see more clearly. I also had a period of time when I suffered from paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia, a rare movement disorder. I also have a body-focused repetitive behavior disorder (dermatillomania) and visible scars from that. I'm looking forward to being helpful!

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue October 1, 1963

Mirella Petteni wrapped in a black-dyed Alaskan seal fur cape coat by Fouke—actually a wide, nine-tenths-long cape with narrow, set-in sleeves. Designed by Emeric Partos. Wear-Right gloves. Hat, wrapped like an Italian peasant scarf, in organza; by Christian Dior-New York. Lipstick; Revlon Stormy Pink.

Mirella Petteni enveloppée dans un manteau-cape en fourrure de phoque d'Alaska teint en noir par Fouke - en réalité un large pan de cape, neuf dixièmes de longueur, avec des manches étroites et montées. Dessiné par Emeric Partos. Gants Wear-Right. Chapeau, enveloppé comme une écharpe de paysan italien, en organza ; par Christian Dior-New York. Rouge à lèvres; Stormy Pink de Revlon.

Photo Bert Stern vogue archive

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 4 - Dinner with Family

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can

Synopsis: Sit down at a family dinner, and sleeping in are good for Lucy for now

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death, blOod/G0re, nightmares, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

The gravel crunches under the tires as they all pull in, kids in the back jumping over seats as Lucy and Cooper open the doors. Old trucks parked in the drive, besides Margie’s new SUV. One thing about Harris: he always made sure Margie had exactly what she wanted.

The sprawling log home stands proudly among a mix of pine, poplar, and spruce trees. The home had been built from the trees on the property, a red tin roof on top. Big wrap-around porch that had equally as large windows on each side. The place was a carefully crafted piece of art that the Maclean’s had built many years ago. Long before the land was farmed, logged, and changed to what it currently was. The Maclean was an old family, and many of the log homes in the area were built by the family. It made Lucy miss the log home she had grown up in. 

Inside the home, a smell of fresh bread, and chatter of laughter echoed in the living room. Margie standing in the kitchen popping bread onto metal racks. Two large dishes of lasagna sat out, a big caesar salad in the middle. Lucy’s second cousins Tracy and Bert were over with their spouses Reg and Stephanie respectively. Their six kids hang out in the big living room with Cooper’s two. Some elaborate game of cards was going on, what the rules were was anyone’s guess. Seeing the kids laugh and giggle at their made-up game made Lucy’s heart swell. She had never thought of herself as a Mom, life and whatnot;  but something about being around the littles always made her wonder about the ‘what if’s’. 

“How can I help, Aunty,” Lucy asked as Cooper went and started putting plates out on the dining table. She watched the man move, he was both graceful and room-filling. 

“Well don’t touch any of the cooking, 'cause we want it to be edible,” Margie jokes, Lucy smiles. She’d never been much of a cook. Lucy, Norm, and their Grandparents had lived off many frozen meals during planting and harvesting. Shirley could cook fine, but her cooking took time and a whole lot of cutting. In the winter it was stew, roast squash, baked potatoes, and local corn. Lucy had never had much time to learn to cook. 

“Well now that I am round more, maybe you can teach me a few things,” Lucy smiles at her Aunt helping her to place each dish on the big dining table. 

“Better make sure I got the ‘tinguisher on hand, maybe a few extra blankets,” Margie jokes some more, winking at Lucy. She meant no harm, Lucy had burnt just as much food as she had undercooked it in her time.  

Lucy chuckled, grabbing glasses and a few pitchers of juice. The place was set up, some budded willows graced the center of the table. Getting the kids to sit was another matter, but the promise of haskap pie and ice cream had them in their places. Harris said grace as was a custom, Lucy noticed that Cooper, who had sat beside her, didn’t repeat the words. She didn’t have much thoughts on religion, Grandpa Tim had always read the bible before bed, usually sitting at his dining table flipping through the rice paper thin pages, while he jotted down notes in a big notebook. You’d never see him at church. Nor would you see him preaching to anyone. He never even really talked about it with her either. She couldn’t remember Grandma Shirley mentioning it either. On bad days she would sit with a rosary, light a candle or two. Lucy had never really thought it odd till now. Their whole family had always gone to church, but not them. 

The wooden house was full of loud voices, laughter, and the click of knives and forks. It was the most lively Lucy had felt in a long time. Even despite the little to no sleep she had gotten.  Cooper was telling stories of wrangling cattle and bison in the south. Harris was talking about fighting fires in the north, running machinery right into blazes to save houses. The large meal of lasagne and fresh bread was mostly picked over. Some vanilla ice cream and fresh pie are being served now. Tracy was bugging Margie about getting the recipe from her. Her Mom teased about how it was nothing but store-bought. Everyone at the table knew that was a whole load of scabbie potatoes.

“So what did you all see along the forest line,” Harris asked, wringing his hand, as coffee and tea were placed on the table. 

Cooper and Lucy had scooted down the table to sit closer to Harris. Lucy’s cousin doing the same so that all the adults were more huddled for any story. 

“Ahh well we saw a few things out there,” Cooper says, voice strained, looking back at Lucy for input. 

Lucy put her spoon down a little louder than she intended, the adults turning to look at her. She felt like a bird caught in a cage, trying to find its way out. 

“Sorry,” Lucy said, “We only got about half of the place looked at before we came.” Lucy wondered how she could explain what they had seen. “There was a stump stripped of all its barks and -” She looked to make sure the kids couldn’t hear,” There was a fresh coyote head sitting on top of it.”

Silence fell at the last words, the others exchanging looks. Lucy’s stomach-turning, the image of the poor critter’s head on a slab was not a favorite. Her mind wandering back to the shadows she had seen less than twenty-four hours ago. Was it all connected somehow? 

“We didn’t get close to it. So we kept walking to where the ATV trails are and, umm, we saw some tracks or maybe an animal digging” Lucy looks over at Cooper, hoping he could maybe explain what they had seen a bit better than she did. 

Cooper digs his phone out, “Yeah these,” He flips open his camera and pulls up the photos. The phone is passed around to each person. Uncle Harris pulls out his reading glasses zooming in on the picture. 

“How big are these tracks?” Harris asks, looking up over his glasses. Concern filling everyone in the room as they looked back at the two. 

Cooper looks at the man, furrowing his brow as he thinks, “Maybe a foot and a bit? Maybe less”

Lucy nods, “Center is probably twice the size of my fist, and at least as long as my forearm and hand. Maybe a little wider where the three points are.”

Stephanie looks it over, her eyebrows raised. “Can you send me this Cooper? I know a few folks in fish and wildlife that can take a look. Maybe come out and look at the head?”

“Yeah, I can send the photos,” Cooper replies, turning his phone off and putting it in front of him. 

“If y’all want to come over that’s fine, the place is a little bit of a mess.” Lucy sighed, fiddling with her fingers, “But, if you think you might have an idea what it is, I am all ears.”

Stephanie looked over at Bert, who had gone to pick up a very sleepy-looking toddler, “What do you think honey?”

Bert smiles, clearly not having heard much of what has been said, “I am sure we can figure something out, maybe we should talk to–” He ponders for a moment, looking for the name, “ Betty, right?”

“Yes, Betty would know. She’s been around her longer than the dirt,” Stephanie grins back at Bert grabbing the little one out of his arms. “Unfortunately I think we got to get our kiddlets back home. Lisa here is exhausted, and Thomas has school in the morning.” 

Margie is up out of her chair, “Let me grab a pie for tomorrow,”

Tracy has come back from putting on some cartoons for the kids, some ridiculous jingle now covering up their conversation. Reg rubs her back as she sits down, 

Bert comes out of the living room with another sleeping child, an older boy who has drool and snot running down his face. “Lucy, make sure to get our numbers from Harris. So we can keep in touch.” 

Lucy nods, “Yeah that’s a great idea, I will keep you updated if anything pops up.” 

Bert and Stephanie wave goodbye as they make their way to the front door with a large bag of various foods from Margie. Margie coming back into the kitchen, she goes into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whisky along with several glasses.

Tracey clears her throat, “Do you think it could have been a person? Maybe? Trying to scare you off the land or some such thing?”

Sighing Lucy happily accepts the glass of whisky from her Aunt, “Besides those tracks, and the coyote head. Everything is pointing that way.” 

“Maybe there is a reason Uncle Tim didn’t want the forest around his land messed with,” Tracy added her hand covering Reg’s hand, as she looks at Lucy, an unreadable expression on her face. 

Harris coughing at the head of the table, everyone turning to look at him.“I doubt Lucy would mess with anything Tim had.”

“Nope, haven’t really ventured into the forest much at all. But that might have to change. Make sure no one has been coming onto the land without my knowledge.” Lucy spoke, it was always in the back of her mind that someone could be hiding in the woods without her knowledge. The place was mostly fenced, but would only stop honest people. 

“Do you think someone is camping on the land?” Tracy asks, looking at her relatives. Taking her glass from Margie and sipping on it. 

“Don’t know about that, didn’t see any signs of anyone walking around.” Lucy sighs, looking over at Coop when his thigh touches her. She pushes back against it, letting a small amount of comfort in.”Know that Henry was not happy about me getting the land. None of them were happy actually.”

“Henry has the money. Probably hiring someone to scare you off,” Margie added, her brows knitted together, as she brought some tea to her lips. 

“Well he can do what he likes, not much is gonna stop me stayin’ there,” Lucy says, her fingers rubbing over the rim of the glass. If someone had asked her that question several hours ago, she may have had a different answer; but right now, in the safety of her Uncle’s home, she felt confident she could say. 

“Besides you got us, we'll make sure that no one will mess with ya,” Cooper adds, rubbing one hand over her shoulder. Lucy really wishes he would keep his hand on her.  

Lucy nods her head, it was reassuring to know that she had all of them on her side. The table going silent for a moment as they sip their drinks. The sun was nearly down, bathing the room in a soft golden light. Lucy trying her best not to let her mind run over the whole day again. She could feel her own exhaustion tugging at her mind. 

Reg let out a yawn, Tracy rubbing his arm. “We should probably get our own rugrats, go to school, and all that.”

Tracy nodded, “Have Sunday dinner this weekend? You both should come over too,” She nods to Cooper and Lucy. 

Lucy, put her cup down, nodding her head, “Yeah, I would like that, be nice to have regular get-togethers.” 

“That would be wonderful,” Reg says, scooping one of his kids up. “Maybe once things have calmed down we can come by. The kids always loved Uncle Tim’s farm.”

“Uncle Tim’s dead,” Reg's son spoke from behind his leg. The little guy peering up at Lucy. The kid had silver blue eyes, and nearly white-blonde hair, standing just below his Dad’s hips in height. His eyes were wide as he blinked a few times, tears forming. 

Cooper ducks down beside him, “Hey, Kiddo. It’s okay.” The little man let out a muffled sob as Cooper scoops him up, the little kid hanging off the adult. 

“Oh sweet Freddy. Got all the big emotions and nowhere to put him.” Tracey coes, before offering to take him out of Cooper’s arms. “Time for sleep.”

Lucy felt her stomach turn as she watches the family of six walk towards the front door. It was hard to see the little guy upset over the loss. It made her uncomfortable not knowing how to help him.  Little Freddy was still crying against his Mom’s hair, the three older girls filing behind. They all had brown hair, and brown eyes, all looking to be a few years apart. The older two could have almost been twins. Hugs were traded and promises of Sunday dinner were planned before the clan took off into the night. 

Coop comes over, covering his two kiddos with a blanket and turning down the cartoon jingling away. He came back, his hand running over Lucy’s shoulder before sitting down. 

“Probably should be going soon too,” Cooper sighs, having another sip of his drink, “Make sure Mom and Dad are okay.”

“How are your folks doing?” Margie asks, adding a bit more to his glass and Lucy’s. 

“Dad’s rough, Mom-” Cooper shifts in his seat, looking down at his glass, the dark look crossing his face again. “She’s doing the best she can considering. Doctor says maybe a year or two.”

Harris rubs at his eyes a little, Lucy watching him compose himself before speaking, “Whatever you need, you let us know." His voice shook a bit as he spoke, "I know your family is tight, but we all need to look after each other. We are all family here, okay?”

Cooper nods a tight smile on his face, “Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate it. We can use all the help we can get.”

Lucy reaches over and squeezes his hand, “ Like you said we are just a phone call away.”

***

Waking up soaked in sweat was the last thing that Lucy wanted to do. She was bolt upright in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with the fading nightmare of headless corpses hanging from trees dancing in her vision. Deep ragging breaths echoed in the small space, and the familiar sound of frogs and crickets echoed outside the open window.   

“You are in your Aunt and Uncle's house,” Lucy breathed out, closing her eyes and taking a sharp inhale. “It was just a dream, there is nothing coming to get you.”

Flipping a layer off the bed Lucy felt around for her phone, it was four-thirty in the morning. In a few more hours the sun would be up, and the world would have light again. She grabbed a sip of water, turning off her phone, and trying to get comfortable. As her eyes closed the visions of the bodies danced into her mind again, like some kind of horror dance party. Groaning, she rolled over, willing the images out of her mind. 

“Happy thoughts, Lucy. We cannot lose any more sleep over this,” Lucy murmured, trying to come up with something more soothing. An image of Cooper staring at her, popping into Lucy’s head. Her eyes shot open, her face going pink. "How old are you, Lucy." 

She thought about it for a moment, was it really the worst thing that she could think of? Yes, the man was older than her, had kids, and had lost his wife. Lucy cringed at the last thought, she rubbed her forehead. What was she doing, lying here thinking about a man she barely knew? Who had flown to her aid, and stood beside her despite the dead animal head in her backyard. 

Rubbing her eyes Lucy debates getting up or letting her half-asleep ass dream about someone who wasn’t interested in her. Remembering how he had leaned his knee against her, rubbed her shoulder, and let her hold his hand as he talked about his father. 

“Ugh, stop. No more death. At least for this instant,” Lucy mumbles quietly into the empty room, trying not to let her thoughts spiral out of control. 

Closing her eyes she decides to indulge herself a little, after the mess she had gone through what was a little fantasy. Letting herself think about them walking through a not haunted forest, maybe holding hands, going camping with the kids. She didn't hold back the smile as she let herself drift, after all, it was only a dream.

***

A knock on the door awoke Lucy out of a dead sleep, she blinked at the light shining around the window. Her fuzzy brain trying to put two and two together, remembering where she was. How she’d gotten there and why someone would be waking her up. 

“Lucy, sorry to wake you,” Aunt Margie calls, her voice just loud enough to hear through the wooden door. 

Grabbing her phone she realized it was past ten in the morning. She cussed, upset that she hadn't set an alarm last night. Normally she would have been up at the latest eight, groaning as she sat up, swinging herself onto the edge of the bed. 

“I will be out in a few Aunt Margie!” Lucy calls out, grabbing her clothes. Once again shaking her head at forgetting something fresh. Oh well, she'd have to change at home, and a good shower too. The thought of hot water spurred her on, as she groaned, body stiff from the long sleep. Setting the bed, she grabs her phone and races out the door. Margie stands at the counter, a fresh pot of coffee in hand.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” The woman smiles at her, handing her a cup of hot coffee. Before going over to the stove.  “I got coffee and put on a couple eggs for you.”

“You are too kind to me, Aunt Margie,” Lucy replies, eagerly grabbing the hot cup of coffee. “I am so sorry that I slept in. Usually, my alarm goes off automatically.”

Her Aunt waves a hand, scooping eggs and toast onto a plate for her. “Nonsense, I am so glad you were able to sleep in.” She hands Lucy the plate. Going around the counter with her cup of coffee to sit at the makeshift bar. “I have a feeling you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Lucy sat down using her toast to break the egg yolk and dip it in. “Oh boy, that would be an understatement. I don't really know why, but, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night.”

Margie sat down beside her, eating her own toast with jam. “Nightmares?”

Lucy nods as she works on swallowing her food, “Yes, actually, how’d you know?”

Margie hums for a moment taking a sip of her tea, looking out towards the tree line outside. “Oh you know, new house, moving back from the city. Can take a little getting used to is all.”

Something twinging in Lucy, as she watches her Aunt. She sips on more of her coffee, trying to will the feeling away, why would her Aunt not be honest with her? 

“Yeah, I am sure that’s it,” Lucy says with a fake smile, as she finishes up her food. “I should probably be on my way-” The realization that she didn’t have a vehicle hitting her. “Oh, I didn’t bring my own car.”

“Oh, Cooper said he’d come by and pick you up,” Margie says, somehow the tension is leaving between the two of them. 

Lucy blinks a few times, wondering if she could possibly walk back home. “Oh, he didn’t need to do that.”

“I think he was looking forward to it if I am honest Lucy.” Margie winks at her, “The man has been alone, with his kids and dying Father for six years. I am sure he enjoys getting to spend some time with another adult that isn't family.”

Trying to choke down some more coffee to hide her face, it is most certainly bright pink. “Yeah, I don’t mind the company.”

Margie gives Lucy a knowing look, raised eyebrows and all. She goes to speak when a knock on the door stops her. She squeezes Lucy’s shoulder as she goes to get it. Lucy sitting a little straighter in her chair as she hears Cooper’s voice. 

“Hey,” Cooper says, he almost looks nervous, fiddling with his hat in his hand. “Was wondering, if you’d be okay if we went to check on the cows this morning before I bring yah home of course.” 

Lucy smiles back, she can’t help herself. Getting him all flustered was going to be a new favorite pastime of hers. “Yah, pretty sure I owe you on that one.”

Part 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

** If you enjoyed the fic let me know! Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

** Most of my fics will be updated once a weekish possibly more often depending on how much writing I can get done! Want to keep the quality and make sure I am putting out my best work.

[kvetchlandia]

Bert Hardy Children in the Gorbals, Glasgow, 1948

The Gorbals was a working class and immigrant neighborhood of Glasgow that was largely destroyed through the quaintly misnamed "urban renewal" of the post-World War II era.

[redhatmeg]

Bert's cousin and his girlfriend are making ice-cream from goat milk and the other characters act like this is a terrible idea for a business...

But, like, ice-cream is already made of milk and goat milk itself tastes pretty okay. Different than cow milk but still okay. So I don't think goat milk ice-cream is such a bad idea.

[amywritesthings]

gingerbread sweet. / a reiner holiday ficlet

pairing: reiner braun x f!reader ( attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin ) word count: 1.1k summary: It's the Titan frat's annual gingerbread house competition. Your boyfriend, Reiner Braun, is determined to win. You, however, are determined to distract.

tags: modern au - university, holiday fluff, gingerbread houses, all the marleyans are in a frat bc i said so, devoted boyfriend!reiner, light sexual tension credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the eleventh day of the twelve days of amymas !!

“Does the door look crooked to you?”

"The what?"

"The door. Look at it."

There’s nothing more amusing than watching your hulk of a boyfriend crouch over a tiny gingerbread house.

Reiner Braun squints as he presses a gumdrop to the front — circular windows make it modern, or so he claims — then pauses.

Distracted by a very minor detail, you can already feel his anxiety running his brain a mile a minute: a lopsided door may deduct a few points from Marcel's arbitrary points system from this very arbitrary holiday competition.

Because he's absolutely fucking determined to win.

Granted, the bragging rights are his, but the grand prize will not be — Reiner, of course, rarely rides this hard for something he wants.

No, he’s too willing to put everyone else's wants and needs above his own.

So the grand prize of the Titan fraternity annual gingerbread house competition is going to go to you, hell or high water.

He’s going to win you that goddamn spa day gift card that Marcel has been dangling as a sweet little incentive no matter how long it takes him to mold this gingerbread house into his image.

"I think it looks straight."

The tip of his pink tongue pokes out a little from his pressed lips as he leans in closer. "...I trust your eye more than mine."

The blonde sits up to fish for the green icing piping bag. He's gentle with the way he eases the icing along the edges of the tiny confectionary door.

(An icing wreath, like this couldn't be anymore adorable.)

“Reiner?” you coo.

“Yeah, babe.”

Flat. He’s in the zone.

“You know you don’t have to slave over this thing, right?”

You scoot your chair closer to his, dropping your temple to his large tricep.

“I can buy my own spa day card.”

“False,” he corrects. “I’ll buy you the spa day card myself, but if I gotta cheat Porco out of winning for the third year in a row. Pieck’s gone at least five times on our dime.”

"When were the other two times?" you ask, not correlating the math.

"Well, our freshman year," Reiner begins, using the green icing to make little bushes at the foundation of the house, "we did a Valentine's day relay race that ended up with Bert in urgent care with a broken nose. Then, the one-and-only pool party chicken fight tournament — Pieck and Porco fought dirty."

"Is that why it was the one and only?"

"Yeah. Bert got another bloody nose, but that time from Annie going a little too hard."

He snorts.

"We had to save him from becoming the next Owen Wilson, so — no more chicken tournaments."

Titan frat is… well, excessively competitive, you've learned in your year or so of dating Reiner.

(Blame Porco and the new pledge, Eren Yeager, for only exasperating in this year with the month-long holiday challenges.)

You shrug a shoulder. “I could help.”

“And mess up your pretty nails?” Reiner shakes his head, glancing briefly through his peripheral vision. He smirks. “Ain’t no way.”

Right.

Reiner’s also very giving, during this season — in more ways than one.

First it was the fully-paid-for manicure yesterday.

Then it was the reservation for a Christmas Eve dinner to your favorite spot in the inner city.

Now he’s trying to win Marcel's approval in this ridiculous decorating contest in your name, and you feel… well, loved.

(There's no disputing that you've won the boyfriend lottery.)

Which, of course, means you have only one thing you can do in this situation.

He’s too wound up.

Distracted.

So you reach down to the pile of icing supplies strewn about, picking the small red accented tube.

You swipe some on the tip of your finger, mindful not to get it under your nails.

Reiner doesn’t even see it happening.

He’s too busy playing fixer-upper on the front side of the house, his too-big hands delicately toying with the too-small decorations he’s pasting on the cookie.

You wait a few seconds, letting him place the door where he wishes, before swiping the icing over the side of his neck.

Reiner tenses, turning to see what the hell just hit his neck, but he’s too late—

You’re already leaning in, sliding the tip of your tongue along his skin.

The man gasps, dropping his own piping bag to the supply assortment below.

“What are you—”

“Decorating,” you murmur nonsensically, grinning from ear to ear as his attention disappears completely from the gingerbread house to you.

“The guys are in the other room,” he rasps, eyes wide.

The pledges, he means — banished to the enclosed patio as they work on their own poorly-designed houses.

Through the last year while dating Reiner,  you’ve learned very quickly how sensitive he is.

Sometimes all it takes is a look to get him hard.

Your ego has never recovered, and it’s not deflating now.

Except his eyes soften and a gentle chuckle exits his throat when his golden eyes search your face.

“Wait, you got—”

“What?”

His hand gently cradles your jaw. 

“Hold still, baby.”

His thumb raises to swipe at your nose, where his smile only grows.

You stay still, obedient to his command, unable to stop looking at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He’s so fucking gor—

Something touches your lips, and you belatedly realize Reiner’s taken it upon himself to push the red icing along the seam of your lips, parting them easily.

You can taste the sugary sweetness on the tip of your tongue.

“Shit, sorry." When your brows knit in confusion, Reiner explains himself. "Seems like I missed a spot.”

Oh.

Oh.

His pupils dilate as his gaze drops to your lips, as if he’s ready to devour your whole.

Your entire body turns into flames.

“Just one spot?” you murmur, and a wicked smirk crawls to his mouth.

That same thumb drops to glide the remaining icing over your chin.

“I fear it's a couple of spots, but don't worry. I'll get you cleaned up.” He tilts his chin. “I take care of my girl, remember?”

(As if you could ever forget.)

His words get your blood pumping. Pledges and wandering eyes be damned.

“What about the gingerbread house?” you murmur, entranced by the way he continues absently swiping icing over your jaw, chin, and cheeks.

(Marking a trail his lips will devour.)

“We can bring the icing upstairs,” Reiner suggests with an innocent shrug. You know it’s anything but. “I’ll finish that damn house eventually, but I have something sweeter to tend to.”

Before you can say another word, the blonde stands from his chair and gently takes your hand into his.

You easily stand with him, unable to stop giggling as he tugs you eagerly upstairs.

He’s determined to win, yes, but to him —

He’s already won.

He has you, after all.

.

[budgies-with-pencils]

I have some insane BertBert fanart planned but for now. I think I've gotten my designs for these two down. I don't think these are SUPER finalized yet but they're concrete ideas on paper and I'm pretty happy with them.

[YAPPING ABOUT DESIGNS DOWN HERE. THERE'S PICTURES OF COOL BUGS.]

BERTBERT

The main thought processes here were

Volcanic islands

Journalist

NOT a fish

Originally, I was going to make her owl-like, but I really badly wanted to lean into the tropical area of Sigius. Workshopped a few bird concepts but Blue and Golden Macaws stuck out the most.

So pretty. So majestic.

I gave her large ears (Big ears are great for hot weather!) and that was that.

Bert's design came to me fairly easily. So to end off this section I give you a fun fact.

Macaws blush! When they're happy or excited, their face will turn red.

How cute.

VERGE

Now Verge. Their design gave me some trouble. My main thought process going into it was

Bug

Legally has to serve.

Canonically at least Mostly humanoid.

And that's about all I had. Originally, going into it, I went with a stag beetle.

You can tell this Really wasn't going in my favor. I was already branching off to other concepts before really giving it a chance, the hair and horns especially, though cool, weren't really giving me what I wanted. It really didn't look alien enough for me to be satisfied. I scrapped this concept entirely and went back to the drawing board, carrying the mantis concept with me.

Did a lot, and I mean a LOT of mantis research. How their mouth worked especially. It seemed like such a cool thing to incorporate into a design.

And in the end I ended up with these concepts. Obviously I wasn't going to go with the fully bug version, but drawing two extremes helped me find a healthy medium I was happy with.

It was off to the races with the coloring stage, and again I was stuck on Verge. Namely, the color. Red made them look too much like an ant, and green.. just wasn't doing it for me. Back to research I went, for more different species of Mantis. I, of course, found the motherload.

MEET THE CONEHEAD MANTIS OOH YEAH BABY

It was at this point I also changed the antenna on Verge's head to match my new inspiration, and Purple Verge is born. I hope you've enjoyed my yapping.

[eddy25960]

In 1962, photographer Bert Stern, at the height of his career, set out to capture Marilyn Monroe in what would become one of the most iconic celebrity shoots ever.

Instead of a large entourage, Stern arrived to meet the world's biggest star with little more than his Nikon F camera.

Little did he know Monroe would pass away just six weeks later, making these images unforgettable.

The Nikon F later became synonymous with everyone from Clint Eastwood to Frank Sinatra to the Beatles to Lady GaGa.