#I always wonder if he’s ok in the dirt

[tired-inyxe]

I have… a hognose!

This is Orange Dreamcicle, my bb western hognose (male). I’ve had him for a week at this point and I love him dearly

The large cage in the back actually belongs to my other snake…

…a ball python!

This is Melon, my juvenile ball python! I’ve had her for about a year now :3

Bonus pics

Dreamie on the drive back to my house after getting him

Melon about a year ago, near when I first got her :D

They’re both absolutely adorable and I love them dearly

Extra bonus… my cats! Yes, I love animals, now shhhhh

This is Bea! I’ve had her for… a whole decade at this point. Jesus Christ. She has some pretty severe anxiety, but since I’ve practically raised her from when I was a little child to now, she’s extremely comfortable around me. She loves pets :3

This is Mario! I’ve had him for like… uhhhh 5 years? Maybe? Either way he’s a silly little goober that lives for attention, and an absolute idiot/aff

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; after being struck by a peacekeeper, coryo puts aside his differences to clean you up.

pairing ; coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; pls coryo may be a little ooc in this but i tried. ok? i tried! physical violence, mentions of blood and death, as well as the events that take place in the hunger games universe, spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

the blow sent a stinging sensation through your cheek, the level of force behind it knocking you to the ground on impact. you had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit in the face – if you would be able to take it – and well, now you knew.

you sat there on the ground, a spectacle among the crowd, and all because you were helping an elderly lady and unknowingly stepped into the peacekeeper’s way. you didn’t mean to, and before you knew it his leather glove was colliding with the side of your face. 

you loathed the peacekeepers, everyone did, but specifically the way they thought they could belittle you and your people just because of their job title. and yet, it terrified you to know how harsh they were over something so small, you couldn’t even begin to think how torturous they could be behind closed doors. 

once the peacekeepers move on, laughing among themselves at what they had done to you, a man and his wife help you to your feet, and you dust yourself off. your palms burned from the rubble you had landed on, small rocks sticking into your skin, and your head was ringing, but nothing compared to the side of your face. 

you were tough, there was no doubt about it, but having the peacekeeper’s hand collide with your face with such force had you a little shaken up. 

“i’m okay, everyone,” you let the group of onlookers, and those that had helped you, know. with a faux smile and a reassuring nod, you quickly return to helping the woman pick up her belongings that had been knocked over in the midst of it all. 

“oh, don’t worry about me, dear. go take care of yourself,” she gestures to your face and your hand instinctively reaches to feel the wet cut that had formed on your lip. a small speckle of blood now on your fingers as a metallic taste fills your senses. it ached to touch, and if it looked bad now, you could only imagine how bad it was going to be later. 

you take your leave from the woman and make your way home along the seam. the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds as the sound of the town drowns out behind you and into the distance. people watched as you passed them by, noticing the blood on your face and probably wondering what had happened. 

you didn’t mind the stares, not much happened in the district, and it wasn't as if you had anything to be ashamed of. well, not that anyone knew of anyway. 

you eventually make it to the last stretch of the dirt path before your house when your name gets called out, stopping you in your tracks, and in the direction it had come from were a couple more peacekeepers. though, these ones didn’t instil fear in you the same way the others had. 

they were familiar faces – faces that you were somewhat glad to see – however, you weren’t sure how they were going to react seeing the new feature that had been ever so kindly bestowed upon your face. 

sejanus waves you over, tapping his partner on the shoulder once he notices, and gestures towards you. coriolanus stands beside him, turning your way after seeing the panicked look on his friend's face, and his smile drops the second he sees the cut on your lip and the bruise that had already begun to form. 

“y/n…” he speaks your name delicately, a forbidden whisper, before rapidly scanning your surroundings to make sure the area was safe. it was. “what happened?”

he wants to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and kiss you better, anything he can to make sure you were okay, but he can’t. he knows that. it would be too much of a risk in such an open space and he wasn’t going to be the reason you end up with another bruise, or worse. so he quickly fixes his posture and positions his gun against his shoulder where it was meant to be. 

“oh, this? it’s nothing,” you wave them off, even adding a wink to further convince them that you were fine.

sejanus smiles, even stifles a laugh at your nonchalant attitude, but not coriolanus. no. he could see right through the smile you were presenting them with. how could he not? he had spent far too much time staring at you, his lover, whether it be from across the town square, or beside you in your bed. he knew every which way your face contorted and exactly what it meant. 

he could see you were in pain. 

his jaw tightens at this, fighting the urge to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder so that he could take you home. it was one thing to have to watch the horrors and physical brutality that went on in the district every day, most of which he had become numb to, but seeing you be the victim of it filled him with not only rage, but fear. 

he wanted – no, needed – you to be safe. 

“is there anything we can do?” sejanus offers. “anything we can get you?”

“don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine,” you smile once again, though this time, coriolanus refuses to sit by and watch you lie. 

“can you cover for me?” he asks, though you know it’s meant for sejanus, who instantly nods at the request, further proving his loyalty to his friend. “go home and wait for me. i won’t be long, just don’t touch it.”

while you wanted nothing more than for coriolanus to follow you home, you knew he couldn’t. it wasn’t safe, not while the sun was still out, “no, i’m fine. i promise.”

“just do what i say, okay?” his eyes bore into you now, an urgency in them as his protective side comes into play, and you knew there was no point trying to argue with him when he got like this. 

you nod, begrudgingly, and lazily salute the pair before continuing on down the path to your house. it was only a little ways away from where the boys had spotted you, but the second you see the chipping wood and beaten down stairs that you called ‘home’, you’re overcome with relief. 

upon entering you immediately splay yourself down on the sofa — one of the few pieces of furniture you still owned after your parents — and wait, just like coriolanus had asked you. your head had stopped ringing a little, but the throbbing pain in your cheek was still there. nonetheless, you knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight come morning. 

minutes pass, twenty-seven to be exact, before you hear shuffling at your back window, followed by heavy footsteps. you knew it was coriolanus. he regularly came through the back of the house so as not to be seen by your neighbours, but like you always tell him, barely anyone bothered to come down your way. 

the second his face comes into view, you let off a weak smile, more so as he begins to remove his uniform, placing it down on the table in the corner of the room, alongside his gun, “i don’t have long. sejanus is covering for me, but even he knows it won’t be long before they start wondering where i am.”

“you really didn’t have to come. i told you, i’m fine,” you sit up now as coriolanus meets your side with a small package in his hand. 

the look in his eyes shifts as he gets a closer inspection of the damage that had been done to your face, a heavy breath falling from his lips. coriolanus believed people deserved to be punished for the things they did, but not you – never you. you were his girl, his flower, his love – and he had been doing everything in his power to make sure you were safe. 

he knew it wasn’t his fault what had happened earlier, but he still couldn’t help but feel somewhat to blame. he should’ve been there to stop the situation, de-escalate it in any way that he could. he had been doing everything in his power to keep you off the other peacekeeper’s radars, away from any potential danger, and selfishly, away from him ever losing you. 

you watch as the stiffness in his jaw goes slack and his shoulders slump a little, eyes downturing as his lips push out into a pout ever so slightly. you reach for his hand, “coryo, what’s wrong?”

“i just… i don’t like to see you hurt,” he pulls his gaze away from you now, wanting to avoid thinking about it, and begins to unwrap the small package in his hand to reveal a mini first-aid kit. “i grabbed what i could without anyone seeing me, though i doubt you’ll need most of it.” 

you watch as he gathers a small cloth, coated with a disinfectant solution and gently dabs at the cut on your lower lip. it stings a little but you didn’t mind, you’d do just about anything to get a moment alone with coriolanus. perhaps getting hit in the face wasn’t all bad, at least the outcome of it anyway. 

once the cut was cleaned, he pulls out a small bandage and presses it across your lip. you weren’t sure you really needed it but it felt nice to be looked after. as for the bruise, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. 

“how does it look?” you sigh, and he reaches up to gently brush the tender skin. 

“it looks… like it needs something,”

“and what’s that?” coryo’s lips quirk up into a roguish grin before he slowly leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek. it’s soft and sweet, and gentle. all of the things coryo was when it was just the two of you alone. “you know what? i think you might be onto something.”

coryo’s laughter reverberates through his entire body, looking at you with glistening eyes, but he gives in, pressing another kiss to your lips, and what starts as a light brush of your lips on his becomes much more when you find yourself pushing him backwards on the sofa. he doesn’t protest and lets himself fall into the cushion behind him as you situate yourself on his lap. there’s no hesitation when his hands cup your thighs, running small comforting circles into your skin. 

you stay like that for a few moments, small trickles of laughter escaping you both as you continue to kiss before you evidently decide to curl yourself up into him. you nuzzle your head into his chest, one leg still draped across his as the other burrows in next to him and instinctively his hand searches for yours - fingers idly grazing one another before he threads his through to hold you. 

“so, what’s the verdict doc? will i make it?” you smile. 

“as long as i have anything to do with it,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but you can’t help but feel like there was another meaning to his words. 

[cultven]

Hi!

I was wondering if you can do a Deadpool x reader x Wolverine fic where reader is like very shy. They find her in the void with the other hero’s from the resistance. They both are immediately smitten but since they both are pretty loud and bickering a lot, it makes the reader nervous. Maybe once they win the fight against Cassandra Nova, the two of them confess to her at Wade’s apartment.

Hope you having a wonderful day/night

No pressure or rush

-W.P 💚

Founded Love

Deadpool X Reader X Wolverine

Content: Some cursing, Deadpool’s humor, Wolverine being so done with Wade lol, Self-conscious Deadpool

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Spoilers for Deadpool 3

a/n: First request done! Hopefully, you like it, I tried following the best I could. The reader may seem a little more timid than shy, however.

You were walking around the ruins of The Void, kicking away the dirt and small rocks that lay in your path. Despite always being on edge, you’ve found yourself at peace with your life in The Void. As long as you stayed away from Cassandra Nova and kept to yourself things were just fine. You had even found a family of your own in The Void, superheroes like yourself who were forgotten with time. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself as a child, but you were happy all things considered. As you stumbled around the woods not looking for anything in particular when your eyes spot a blue minivan in the distance. 

You hum to yourself in confusion, taking in the state of the vehicle. It was battered and bloody, the liquid still visibly fresh. It looked a hell of a lot like Nicepool’s car, another trashed variant that lived in The Void. You hoped it wasn’t his car, he always seemed kind enough, hence his not-so-creative name, and you didn’t want any trouble finding the man. Besides, Nicepool was one of the only other people in The Void besides your family you could comfortably talk to. You have always been the shy type, even back in your everyday life in the real world. Casual conversation didn’t come naturally to you, leading you to feel incredibly awkward most times. You were never fond of most other people anyway, so your reserved nature didn’t bother you. 

As you shuffled closer to Betsy, you remember Nicepool always insisting you call the car by her name, you catch a glimpse of two people. The first was notably tied up in various seatbelts, seemingly asleep. He was another Deadpool variant, thankfully not your befriended one, and was bloodied similar to the car. The second man was a Wolverine variant, something that isn’t usually seen in The Void and was also quite beaten. By the looks of it, they had a pretty hefty fight and weren’t going to join consciousness anytime soon. Making a swift decision on what to do with the newfound characters you sigh and try to start up the car, planning on taking them back to your crew.

Much to your surprise, the car runs quite well considering the damage it’s withheld. The drive back to your hideout was quiet with some soft snoring from the back seat. Some music would have been nice but you didn’t want the pair waking up before you got them to the rest of your family. You could handle the transportation, but the questioning was something better fitted for Elektra or Eric. Eventually, you turn the car and park it next to the house you have been calling home for almost a year now. You debated bringing the two men inside by yourself before quickly realizing there was no way in hell you’d be able to move their large figures. 

“Guys, I’m back.” You quietly announced walking through the door. You saw Remy and Laura sitting at a table playing cards while Elektra was making some sort of food in the kitchen. 

“Hey, glad to see you made it back ok.” Elektra smiled, plating five portions of her cooking. “Did you see Johnny while you were out there?” 

“Nah, unfortunately not. But, I did find some new guys. A Deadpool and a Wolverine.” That caught everyone’s attention, especially Laura’s. You and her were quite close which led her to entrust you with her past, most importantly the bits of Logan. You felt uneasy with all the attention now suddenly on you, but continue your thoughts with fiddling fingers. “They’re, um, in a car unconscious just outside the house. I drove them here. I probably can’t move them inside so…” You let your stream of thoughts trail off, noticing Remy stand up from his space at the table. 

“I’ll go get them, eh?” His accent never failed to amuse you, causing you to smile and nod at the man as he went out the door. Blade soon entered the room and began talking with the others, speculating what the hell was going on with the two men outside. You took this as an opportunity to hide away in your room, allowing yourself to decompress after everything. 

After some rustling outside your room, it eventually quieted, likely meaning the two men were still asleep and the others wanted to give them space. You took this as an opportunity to sneak around to the kitchen, the starvation of not eating all day finally catching up to you. As you tiptoe down the hallway and past the living room you hear an inaudible grumble. Turning your head slightly you see the Wolverine stir. Not realizing you had completely stopped to stare at the man, his narrow eyes met yours with a questioning glance. 

“What the hell are you looking at? Where are we?” His accusatory tone and spew of questions caused you to become flustered. You begin to tap your foot on the floor, a nervous tick you’ve developed over time. 

Realizing you have yet to answer his questions you spoke up, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were awake. Or I guess you just kinda woke up, huh?” You get out an awkward laugh, avoiding eye contact. You hated this with everything in your body. “I, uh, found you guys in that old banged-up car so I called for backup to take you here just to make sure you guys were alright.” When you didn’t get a response you turned back to the Wolverine who was previously throwing questions at you to find him much calmer now. Maybe he finally gauged that you weren’t a threat to him, and even if you were he could easily take you down. You find his eyes scanning your body and finally meet your eyes, causing you to shrink. His frown lines were less prominent than before, adorning a more relaxed expression. 

“Mhm, well thanks for that then.” It wasn’t the kindest thank you in the world, but it was nice he was at least a little grateful for your efforts. As you watched him examine the room you took in his appearance. He adorned the iconic Wolverine suit, the one that Laura insisted her Logan never wore, so it’s likely that this isn’t her Logan, but you figured that much considering ghosts didn’t make it to The Void. He seemed to have a permanent frown on his face, which oddly suited him. There were small tufts of hair on the top of his head, ones that resembled ears. It was cute. Little did you know, when you finally turned away from admiring the man he took his own turn to take you in. You could tell there wasn’t a version of you in his world, but he still felt comforted by your presence in an odd way. Perhaps it was because you saved him and his stupid sidekick. No matter the reason, the gentle look on your face when you hadn’t realized he was awake yet was enough to draw him towards you. 

“What’s your name?” He wanted the conversation to continue and was becoming increasingly interested in you. 

“Y/N. I already know yours, you’re the notorious Wolverine. Also known as Logan.” He seemed shocked you knew his real name, especially by the disregard of how you said it. Noticing his reaction you hastily begin explaining yourself. “Well uh, it’s just Laura told me, if you even know who that is, um I’m not sure if you have her in your universe.” Your speech comes out in an anxious jumble, before deciding just to shut your mouth altogether, wanting to hide away. Wolverine chuckled to himself slightly, finding your skittish behavior quite endearing.  

You felt yourself blushing, wanting to hide from the strong eyes following your figure. Just as you were about to mumble out an excuse to leave the room Logan responded to your earlier ramble, “I’m not sure what all that means bub, but thanks for letting us crash here.” You watched him take in the room, mostly staring at Remy’s impressive stash of alcohol. He stood up from his place and chose a bottle of booze to open and take a swig. You knew Remy wouldn’t appreciate this action, but you were too shy to speak up about it. 

“Yeah, of course.” You rocked back and forth on your feet, something Wolverine took notice of. The whole time you spoke to him he picked up on your small fidgets and mannerisms. Despite finding them precious he didn’t want you to feel so nervous while talking to him, he wasn’t all that scary. Besides, he doesn’t hurt people without reason. “Was that Nicepool’s car you were in?” Before Wolverine had the chance to open his mouth a loud gasp followed by “Thor!” is heard from the bed. Upon seeing the Deadpool variant spring up from his sleeping position you hide yourself half behind the wall. Other than Nicepool all of the other Deadpools you have encountered were aggressive to say the least. But if this one was traveling with the nice Wolverine then maybe he couldn’t be so bad? 

Noticing your caution Wolverine decided to speak up, “Morning, jackass.” 

“Well, good morning to you too, honey bear.” Deadpool took in their surroundings before settling his gaze on you. “I see a beautiful woman has kidnapped us. Not how I was planning for this trip to go, but this could be a pretty hot porn set-up.” You could practically hear the smirk oozing from his speech. Maybe not an aggressive Deadpool, but it didn’t make him any less intimidating. 

You didn’t know what to say, so Wolverine said what you were practically thinking. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. She helped us here and now you’re creeping her out.” He took a swig before slightly positioning himself between you and the Deadpool. 

“I’m not the one with a permanent scowl! You look like the stereotypical villain of every cartoon.” Deadpool stands up before sauntering his way over to you. “What’s your name, pretty little thing.” 

“Y/N.” You managed to squeak out, ready to go lock yourself in your room forever. All of the sudden attention made you increasingly nervous. Deadpool just patted your head and looked over at Wolverine. 

“Dibs on this lovely lady.” He began smushing your cheeks like you were a child. He was quite the character, oddly charming in his weird ways, although you were getting overwhelmed with the physical touch. “I would be okay with sharing with you though Wolvie. Maybe divorced parents' style, I get weekdays and you every other weekend, hm?”

Wolverine growled, “She’s not an object, dipshit.” He pulled Deadpool off of you, clutching the fabric of his suit in his hand. As they begin to argue over you, you feel yourself shrink. Their booming voices and increasingly violent demeanors made you nervous, wanting to flee from the scene as soon as possible. Noticing their attentions were solely on each other you took the chance to sneak out of the room and back into the oasis that is your bedroom. You enjoyed the conversation you had with Logan, but once Deadpool woke up it was clear the two characters didn’t seem to mix well. Once they were caught in each other’s warpath it was like you weren’t even there anymore. 

You heard them eventually quiet, likely realizing you had left the scene a while ago. The arguing also caught the attention of the rest of your roommates, who were all very curious to see what the deal of the two new arrivals was. You opted to stay in your bedroom and listen to some music to help calm you down. As much as you loved your found family, large crowds were still unnerving. As it got later in the night you quickly realized that you couldn’t hide out forever, needing to eat as humans do, so you snuck out of your room. Luckily it seemed everyone had retired for the night early. It was odd considering the new arrivals but maybe they all wore each other out. 

Walking into the kitchen you notice another figure already standing at the toaster, patiently waiting for his food to pop up. “Hey, cutie.” The man in red purred, wiggling his fingers in your direction. 

“Is your whole personality just being a creep?” You half-joked, grabbing a box of cereal. You typically wouldn’t say things like this is strangers, but you could tell that this was certainly Deadpool’s type of humor. He seemed to appreciate the joke as he only giggled at the comment. 

“Maybe.” He said, playfully dragging out the E at the end. You just roll your eyes in return before fixing yourself a bowl of cereal and sitting at the counter, back turned towards him. Realizing that the conversation was over you heard an uncharacteristic sigh from the mercenary. “Sorry for kind of ambushing you there earlier. It’s just fun to watch Wolverine get his panties in a twist. He was sooo flirting with you back there.” It seemed he genuinely felt bad for making you uncomfortable back there, which was sweet. However, his one comment stuck about flirting. There was no way, right?

“I don’t know, it seemed like a normal conversation to me.” You shrugged despite feeling your entire body heat up at the suggestion. 

“Maybe he wasn’t flirting with his words, but he was definitely flirting with his eyes.” Deadpool moved back into your line of vision, waving his hand in front of your eyes. “Just know I’m batting my eyelashes under the mask right now.” You must say, despite the sheer amount of annoyance this man can bring, he is quite funny. 

Giving in to the stupidity you don’t hold back your small laugh, which plainly pleased Deadpool across from you. “Where is Wolverine now anyway?” It was strange to see the two apart seeing as you found them together. 

“He’s talking to your feisty friend out there.” You could tell right away he was referring to Laura. It made sense why they would be talking. You wonder if he had a Laura in his timeline. Suddenly you heard the pop of a toaster and Deadpool’s demeanor pop up. “Oh, fuck yes!” He clapped vigorously before reaching into the toaster and pulling out a freshly made Pop-Tart. 

“Hey! Is that my last Pop-tart?” You question, eyeing the familiar-looking treat. 

“How mad would you be if I said yes?” Deadpool looked at you with fake innocence. 

“Very.”

“Then, no.” He patted your head once more before situating himself across from you, Pop-tart on a plate. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance. It was strange to find yourself so comfortable with the man in such a short amount of time. Admittedly, you felt this way about both of the new arrivals. They were quite friendly, to you at least, and were easy to talk to. You were grateful you stumbled upon them in those woods, and they seemed to feel the same way. 

“Did you hear about the plan for tomorrow?” Deadpool questioned. Your downcasted eyes looked up in confusion. 

“Plan?”

“Yup, we’re gonna rock Cassandra’s shit tomorrow,” Deadpool said with a grin. “Can’t wait to see the look on that egghead’s face when she realizes she got fucked by a Looney Toons squad.” You just shook your head, smiling a bit before noticing the plate still soundly sat in front of the man. 

“Hey, your Poptart is getting cold.”

“Shit! Cold Pop-tarts are the worst.” He groaned, throwing his head back. “I guess I was just too distracted by your beauty to notice, among other things.” He makes motions with his hands around his chest. He’s talking about your boobs, classy. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You just giggled. “Eat you idiot.” Deadpool grinned under his mask before looking down at the plate. He seemed hesitant about something, but you didn’t know what. It was only a Pop-tart, all he had to do was lift his mask and eat it. Speaking of which, you actually can’t recall ever seeing him without his mask. 

“I might actually take this one to go, baby girl. Don’t wanna ruin your appetite.” He motions to his mask before nodding his head and turning to skip out of the room. 

“Hey, wait!” You’ve seen some pretty nasty stuff in The Void, surely it couldn’t be that bad. “Eat here, with me. I’d appreciate the company.” Seeing you want him to stay Deadpool couldn’t just dent you, so he conceded and sat himself back down. Tentative fingers made their way to his mask, pulling it up only slightly. Under you get a glimpse of scar tissue, textured and wrinkled. After taking notice of your lack of reaction he continues slowly, his prominent cheekbones revealed, and then his dark brown eyes. Finally, his mask is completely off, revealing a bald head underneath. You admit it wasn’t what you were expecting, but it wasn’t horrible in the slightest. 

“You grossed out yet?” He asked with a forced-sounding laugh. His appearance was clearly a sore subject for him. 

“Not at all.” You smiled at him. “You made it seem like your face was going to be melting off or something.”

“Eh, it kinda is.” By the tone of his voice, you assumed you put the man in much better spirits.

“Well, I still think you look quite charming.” Surprise painted Deadpool’s face, and then a face of appreciation. Not many people thought he was good-looking with his deformation, he constantly got berated for it, joking and not. He ended up using his humor to seal the pain, it was a nice break to have someone see him other than his skin. “Besides, I know it’s not the same but I had like major acne as a teen, so my skin was basically as bad as yours.” 

“Probably worse if I had to guess, them hormones be crazy girl.” Deadpool had a wide smile before biting into the, now freezing cold, Pop-tart. Gross. You two sat and talked, picking away at your respective meals before Deadpool, who you learned was named Wade, suggested you both head to bed. Claiming you need your energy for tomorrow because he’d hate to see you skinned and popped like a bloody zit, his words, not yours. 

He already ran off somewhere when you were taking the trash out. As you hauled the giant trash bag behind you, a person grazed your shoulder. “You know tomorrow is a suicide mission, right?” The gruff voice from earlier, Wolverine. He sounded concerned. 

“We’ve been her prisoners for so long, it’s about time we did something for ourselves.” Wolverine seemed to accept your answer with a curt nod, turning away so you couldn’t see the worry etched in his face. 

“Just be careful, bub.” That was all he said before walking inside, leaving the door slightly open for you once you’re done. 

To put it bluntly, the mission was a success. Logan did end up assisting you and your family in effectively taking down Cassandra. This was not surprising to you, despite his rough demeanor you could tell he’s a caring person on the inside, he just doesn’t know how to verbalize it well. What you didn’t expect, however, was to be pulled into the portal with Logan and Wade, transporting you back to Wade’s dimension. This was where you took down Cassandra for good this time, watching Wade and Logan heroically sacrifice themselves for Wade’s loved ones. It was heartwarmingly sweet and incredibly anxiety-inducing. But you all made it, not without a few scratches but regeneration came in clutch. What you were most grateful for was learning the rest of your family got to return to their timelines, something you had all longed for for so long. 

After the chaos, you and Logan figured you had nothing in your old worlds and decided to stay in Wade’s timeline. He graciously offered you a place in his apartment and, after sleeping on a not-so-comfortable couch for months, you finally saved enough money to rent your own apartment which was conveniently next door. This meant the three of you hung out all the time, whether it was an ambush hang-out or a planned movie night. Wade’s family became yours and you were happy.   

“Wade! Don’t burn the popcorn this time!” You yelled from across the room, feeling entirely comfortable in the company of your peers. 

“Please. I can’t handle the burnt smell any longer. It’s a miracle you haven’t burned this place to the ground yet.” Logan grumbled, resting his arm around you. 

“I’m wounded, you guys think I’m that horrible at making such a simple dish.” As if on cue, smoke begins to ooze out of the microwave. “No! Not towards the smoke alarm not again!” He rushed over, hastily fishing the bag out, and dropped it as it burnt his hand. Quickly putting it in a bowl he hops over the back of the couch you settle on your other side, offering the bowl to Logan. 

“I’m not eating your fucking popcorn ash.” Logan mumbles, still looking for a suitable movie. 

“More for me and cutie over here then.” Wade smiles, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth and instantly regretting it, resisting the urge to spit out the popcorn. “Mhm, delicious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” Logan berates as you just giggle. After much bickering, mostly between Logan and Wade, you finally settle on a movie, The Proposal. Halfway through Wade unexpectedly turns in your direction. 

“You know, I’m really happy you found us gutted in that shitty excuse for a car.” It was sweet, in Wade’s own way. 

“Me too, bub,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder where his arm still rests around you. You look between the both of them and smile brightly. 

“I’m the happiest, I got to meet you guys. You really broke me out of my shell, you know that?” You squeezed Wade’s hand while patting Logan’s thigh. You truly were grateful for them, the other group may have been your family but these two felt different, even closer in a way. “I don’t think I ever want to leave.” 

“We’re glad,” Wade says sweetly before frantically shushing both you and Logan as his favorite part of the movie begins your play. The rest of the night is spent in comfortable silence, much to your surprise with Wade, as the three of you cuddle closely on the couch, thanking the universe for connecting you. 

[dilf-rot]

Hot Summer - MDNI 18+

TAGS: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Logan has a knot, idc if wolverines are not a canid species I’m doing my best ok, Femme Reader, Friends to lovers sort of deal, Mentions of rut / heat, maybe a little feral?, also im giving this bitch fangs because he should have them, smut with very little plot, creampie, helping a horny mutant in need, PinV, oral (fem receiving) ((for like 1 moment)), marking / hickeys / scratching, this is literally just smut with minimal plot

WORD COUNT: 2560

A/N: Hey, remember when I asked if you would still love me if I wrote Logan with a knot? Yeah well here it is, may it comfort you in this terrible world <3 

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites  (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!) 

—------------

The summer at the institute was always a little boring, or even very boring. You were one of the few students who hadn’t made plans and ended up stuck in the mansion, doing mindless tasks and trying to not be bored out of your mind. It was mostly empty, and as you walked the halls, you hardly even noticed the change in atmosphere. It had just been you, Charles, and a few other kids that would pop up every now and then. So, you were rather surprised when you rounded the corner and saw him standing there. 

“Logan,” You call, and he turns to look at you. Your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him, sweaty and a little dirty from whatever he had been doing. “I thought you were out for the summer?”

“Yeah, was. Chuck called me back, gotta fix up some things.” He looks you over, and smiles, the flash of his sharp canines sending flutters right through your stomach. 

“Oh, well it’s good to see you.” You try not to stare, wondering if he has somehow gotten even more alluring in his brief absence. The length of your shorts, and thin fabric of your tank making you feel much more bare now than before. “I’ll let you get back to it,” 

“Thanks, doll. We’ll catch up when I’m done.” Something in his voice feels different, but you try not to focus on it as you head over towards the kitchen. He did look rather good, maybe even more than he usually did. Though you had been trying desperately not to think of him in that way, to preserve one of the few friendships you had built here. But the image of him dripping in sweat, in a dirt stained beater and jeans that were tight in all the right spots. That image would make things harder for sure. The thoughts of his teeth sliding along your neck, his rough hands clinging to your hips. 

You pushed those thoughts down as best as you could and decided you would attempt to read, lounging in the corner of the kitchen, book in hand. Your eyes flicking across the pages, barely absorbing the words, just trying to give yourself a reasonable distraction. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing this before Logan had made his way into the kitchen. 

“Reading?”

“Barely-” you laugh, but are briefly silenced when you look up to see Logan, shirtless. He has his dirty tank in his hand, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. It wasn’t even that hot out for the season, and yet he was somehow soaked in sweat. You couldn’t imagine the work Charles had him doing to be that strenuous. 

“Oh yeah? Something on your mind?” He loops the fabric of the tank through one of his belt loops and walks over to the fridge. 

“Uh-” You can’t help the way your mind practically goes blank as you watch him. He’s taken a beer from the very back of the fridge and popped the cap off on the edge of the counter, hopefully he hadn’t chipped it or that would be another thing to add to his list of repairs. 

“You want one?” He references the drink in his hand, you nod and stand up from your chair. Whatever book you were reading was quickly forgotten and left on the floor. You stand next to him leaning against the counter as he opens the beer for you and hands it to you. He must’ve bought them and hid them in the back of the fridge whenever he had gotten back to the mansion, cause you couldn’t recall seeing any in there for the past few months. 

As you take the beer from him your fingers brush against his, and as if he had been shocked he flinches. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. He grits his teeth and tries to regain his composure, but you can tell something is going on. You step closer to him, your hip almost touching him. He leans down towards you, as if he was going to tell you a secret.

You want to turn your face towards his, to swallow him up in a kiss, to beg him to tell you what he was thinking. But as he moves closer to you, you find yourself paralyzed.

“You smell good,” he breathes in, his face inches away from your neck.

“So do you…” You turn your head to avoid his gaze. He smells better than usual. Something about the smell of sunshine, dirt, and whatever sawdust or debris had been falling onto him made you want to reach out and grab him, but before you could, he corners you. Your back against the counter, his hands finding your hips and effortlessly lifting you on top of the counter. He presses himself against you. You're caged in by his large arms, the muscles taut and glistening.

His face against your neck, his teeth almost brushing against your skin. His rough fingers digging into your hips. The fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your thighs, now wet from his sweat and your sudden excitement.

“Logan-” you whine, practically trembling, and he seems to remember himself.

“Sorry, doll.” He steps back and looks you over, a devious glint in his eye. Without another word he is gone from the kitchen. You are unsure of what to do, or what even was happening but eventually follow him.

He has resigned himself to his room, and you can hear him pacing back and forth behind the door. You knock gently and the sounds stop. He opens the door just a crack, he seems even sweatier and disheveled from when he had found you in the kitchen. His eyes piercing and intense, his pupils blown wide, his breath slow and shaky. 

“Logan, are you alright?”

He grunts in response, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He looks you over, and opens the door wider. You step inside and he quickly shuts the door. He looks even wilder than he had in the kitchen, still shirtless, only in his jeans. Which you try not to make note of the very large and obvious bulge in the crotch. His hair is messy and disheveled, you imagine he had been running his hands through it as he was pacing around.

“Logan?” You walk towards him and he makes a strangled sound. “Are you feeling ok?”

When he turns towards you, your heart races and your breath catches in your throat. He looks so pathetic. Rendered down to some poor animalistic creature. He walks slowly towards you, and when he is a mere step away he grabs your hands and pins them up above you, your back pressed against the door. 

“You should go,” He growls into your ear as he brushes his nose against your jaw. “Too dangerous for you to be in here.”

“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me,” You lean into his touch, resting your head against his.

“Might,” He drops your wrists and tries to step away, but you follow. Keeping the gap between you as small as possible. He groans as you run your hands along his arms, trying to be gentle and encouraging so that he may tell you what’s going on. Before you can ask, he takes one of your hands and slides it underneath the waistband of his pants. 

Your eyes widened as you feel the weight and heat of his cock in your hand. You curiously push your hand down more and feel a swollen bulb at the base of it. Oh. 

Oh. 

Now you understood. You had at some points wondered just how animalistic his mutation was, but now you got it. Late summer was a rather common breeding season for a variety of mammals and it seems as if Logan was one of them. 

“Let me help you,” You slide your fingers up the length of him, tracing the prominent vein on the underneath of the shaft.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He shudders as you wrap your fingers around his cock.

“Why not?” You smile up at him, and you feel him straining to not thrust up into your hand.

“You might regret it.”

“I don’t think so,” you lean up so that your lips are nearly brushing his, and his restrain snaps.

He closes the distance and practically devours you, kissing you rough and desperately. 

It was as if a fire had been reignited within him and he could do nothing to put it out. His hands grasping and clawing at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against him. His lips leaving frenzied kisses against your jaw and neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and his tongue soothing the small marks left in their wake.

He lifted you easily, dragging the both of you towards the bed where he tossed you down against the mess of sheets and pillows. His hands running along the curvature of your body, as if removing himself from you would cause him great pain. His face was wild, that of a crazed man who finally had found whatever he had been searching for.

You were utterly breathless and your heart beat rang in your ears loud as could be. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them off somewhere, his hands hardly leaving your body for more than a few seconds. He drags himself away from you for just long enough to find himself kneeling in front of you, pulling you down to the edge of the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders, his head between them, looking up towards you with the most pathetically hungry expression you could have ever imagined.

“You’re sure doll?” His voice is strained and rough. 

You nod, your hands finding their way to tangle in his hair to softly encourage him to continue. He growls and presses his lips to your inner thigh, kissing the soft skin and taking the flesh into his mouth to nibble and bite at. Trailing up and down the length of each thigh, relishing in the small whines and moans leaving your mouth as he decorates your delicate skin with marks. Feeling satisfied that you were now his in this moment, he brings his attention to the aching spot between your thighs, dragging his tongue up through your folds to lap and suck upon your clit. The feeling electric and mind numbing. He slides his tongue along your clit in sloppy circular motions, sucking it in gently, generating small whimpers from you. He growls as he hungrily slurps you up, his patience growing thin as he becomes entirely enveloped in your scent. 

He pulls away from you, a small whine leaving your lips as you sit up and rest on your elbows to watch him. He quickly kicks off his pants, and you gasp when you see him. The tip of his cock is red with need and practically dripping. You feel a bit more intimidated now as you stare wide-eyed at the bulb throbbing at the base of his cock. You could only pray that it would fit. 

Logan smirks and hovers over you, caging you in with his large arms. “Having some regrets, princess?”

“No,” you lift your hips up to shamelessly rub yourself against his erection and he groans. One hand moving down your body to roughly grab your hip pushing you down into the mattress. He slides his cock between your wetness, your breath hitching when the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your arousal coating him, the slick wet noises make your head spin. 

“Please,” You whine. He presses the tip against your entrance and you try to lift your hips closer to him, begging for it to slide inside. Your breath hitching when it finally does. He moves painfully slow, the drag of his cock slowly stretching you out. A sort of burning rising in your stomach as you strain to be closer to him.

“So desperate,” He huffs, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close against him as he bottoms out. Your whines make his heart ache. “I’ve got you princess, I’m right here.”

You claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can reach. The knot at the base of his cock pressing into you, you feel like you could break. Heat spreading over your entire body. You can’t get close enough. You want him to devour you. To take what he needs and worry about you later, but he’s being so gentle that it makes your eyes water. 

His pace stays slow, once he feels you relax, he pulls himself back before pressing in again. Slow, deliberate, patient. He watches your face as you try to play tough, acting like you can handle it despite your trembling. When you flutter around him and a broken moan falls from your mouth he falters.

“I don’t think I can be gentle for much longer,” He whispers against your neck, kissing right below your ear.

“So don’t be,” your whimper flips a switch in him. He would have preferred your first time together to be different than this, to be softer and sweeter. To be kinder to you. But when you beg to help him, and try to take him so good, he can’t help himself. 

He barely hesitates before his pace quickens, and the sheer force of his movements is enough to make your brain fuzzy and dumb. The headboard smacking into the wall with every rough movement, the bed frame creaking beneath you. You’d feel bad about all the noise if you were in any position to feel anything other than Logan ruthlessly fucking you. 

His cock stretches you in such a way that each thrust presses against that sweet spot inside you. The knot at the base pressing against your clit. The slap of it sends little waves of pleasure throughout your body. His pace hardly falters, as you grip onto his arms, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to take it. To help him through it. Wanting him to use you and be satiated. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans as he feels you tighten around him. You tremble and whine, shaking as your orgasm takes over and you can hardly think of anything as his motions begin to falter too. 

He shudders as he pumps into you, his ruthless pace being diminished into small quick thrusts. You groan as you feel the knot slip in, and he cums. You feel so utterly full as more and more cum is spilled into you. So much so that it’s dripping down onto the mattress beneath you. Your eyes rolling back in your head, and you can feel drool leaking from your open mouth. Your body feeling limp, you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open and steady enough to look at Logan. He seems hardly affected. 

“We’re gonna be here a while, Doll. Don’t get tired on me already,” Logan grins, pressing his lips against your neck and you shudder as you feel his sharp canines graze the sensitive skin.

At least the rest of your summer would be far from boring. 

[mikkomacko]

begging for more johnny jack luke and reader just being chaotic or something please

“Mr. Hischier?”

Nico grunts into the phone, focus remaining on reviewing the product inventory in front of him. He marks off a box of goods from Switzerland sent by Luca, and then another. Timo and Lazar stack them on their specific pallet before returning to the drop off dock for more.

“This is the Hoboken police department calling,” Nico freezes, pen going slack in his hand and alarm bells are immediately going off in his head. Obviously something terrible has happened, you’ve gotten in an accident and are in a coma, someone broke into the house and hurt you and the dingbats Nico left with you, you fell on your run this morning and knocked yourself conscious, you choked on a bagel at breakfast and had to be resuscitated, you-

“I was calling to let you know that I’ve got three of your boys and your wife down here, and you’re listed as her emergency contact.”

“What happened?” Nico asks, motioning Jonas over and handing over his inventory list. He’s patting at his pockets for his keys and wallet, wondering where the fuck his phone is. “Is she ok?”

Oh right, he realizes, huffing to himself. “Yeah they’re fine sir. We picked them up in the abandoned lot off 32nd-“ the street the boys live on, right by the loft Nico bought them. “-they were running messing around and accidentally ran each other over.”

Unamused, Nico scoffs and shakes his head. “They ran each other over?” He says incredulously, then pauses. “Did those clowns run my girl over?”

The man-officer laughs. “No sir, she was in the vehicle. And no one is hurt, just a little banged up but ya know we had to bring em in, even if they’re yours.”

Nico and the police department have an agreement. They don’t fuck with his boys, Nico doesn’t fuck with them. And they get a heavy donation every month to the training department, and drinks at the bar whenever they want. Nico doesn’t tell them this, but he gives even more the fire department and hospital to make sure his guys are always prioritized. Lucky for him, the department hasn’t realized Nico skimps on them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, running a hand through his hair. It’s fine, he can leave the guys here to finish inventory while he goes to pick you and the three stooges up.

“Had a rookie take the car to the Rock instead of impound, but we can’t let these ones out without your signature.”

“Yeah,” he says again. “I’ll be right there.”

~~~~

“Atta boy Luke, it looks really good.”

“I think my ass is bruised,” the scuffle of shoes sounds down the brick hall. “Will you check y/n?”

“I don’t really want to see your ass Luke.”

Nico rounds the corner, unimpressed hands on his hips when he sees the scene in front of him. You, Luke, Jack, and Johnny are all locked in the holding cell, not that it’s stopping you from looking like idiots.

You’re huddled in a ball on the metal bench, hands held out in defense and eyes squeezed shut in disgust as Luke sticks his ass out at you, fingers on the button of his jeans. He’s covered in dirt and there’s a rip on his shoulder, a bruise on the left side of his face.

He must’ve been the one you guys ran over.

Marino has his phone out, a wicked smile on his face as he films you shoving Luke away. “Make Jack do it!” You whine, kicking at Luke’s knee until it wobbles.

“Eww that’s very taboo of you, I don’t want to see my brother’s ass.” Jack cries, then he’s narrowing his gaze at you. “Does Nico know the dirty thoughts in that head? Because I always thought he was the nasty one-“

“Hey!” Nico barks, and you all go rigid and silent. In unison, every head turns to look at him, a series of timid and apologetic eyes peering through the bars. Not yours though, that are instead looking at him like he’s a single ray of sunshine coming through the clouds on a rainy day.

He waits for someone to speak, but no one does. Finally the officer that called him retrieves his keys, metal jingling as he sticks them in the lock. All four of you rise to your feet.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, pointing to you. “Just her.” The boys all groan, sitting back on the bench while you clamber to your feet. The door gets unlocked, you step up to Nico with a shy smile, fluttering your pretty eyes at him. It takes all his will power to just stare down at you, expression neutral.

Nico juts his head to side, motioning you down the hallway. He sends the boys one last warning look before gripping the back of your neck, not harsh or painfully, but firm enough that he feels all the muscles in your body relax.

He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to show authority like this in front of the boys when you seem to enjoy it far too much, but what else can he do?

The officer passes them, returning to the front desk and Nico directs you through a door, into an interrogation room. The door slams shut behind him, heavy and loud. Nico guides you to the chair, urging you to sit. You do so politely, hands folded in your lap and eyes following him as he sits across from you.

All he has to do is raise a prodding eyebrow.

“Jack wasn’t supposed to hit him that hard,” you say, not much of an explanation. You must be able to tell, cringing before starting over. “We were trying to make a TikTok since my last one kinda blew up, and it was that scene from The Office, where Michael hits Meredith.

“Except Jack gots a heavy foot and he didn’t give Luke enough time to jump on the hood so he just kinda hit him and I guess someone saw and called 9-1-1 and then Mercer ran away-“

“So Dawson was a part of this too?”

You shrink in on yourself, frowning apologetically. “He was filming Luke outside the car, and then we heard sirens and he just took off back to the loft.”

Nico sighs, running a hand down his face and you tilt your head, eyes big and beautiful, and everything about you so pretty and sweet. He wonders how they managed to put you in a cell without feeling guilty.

“‘Three of my boys and my wife’,” he repeats the officer’s words, trying not to smile when you blush. “What a sentence to hear from a police station.”

Bashful, you flutter your eyelashes at him again. “I thought maybe they’d let us go if I said I was a Hischier.”

That damned smile breaks through, dimpling at his cheeks and crinkling by his eyes. “You are a Hischier,” he murmurs, “just be careful who you’re running over under that name, yeah?”

You smile back, so proud and happy looking that it makes his chest ache and he has to remind himself that he’s here because you in all your sweet innocence, ran over one of the boys.

A sharp shrill rings out in the cold and sterile room, the signature apple ringtone coming from your lap, and you dig your phone out, laughter glinting in your eyes as you answer.

“Hello,” you answer, introducing yourself and Nico watches you, curiously. “What a coincidence, I’m already here!”

Nico chuckles in realization. He was your emergency contact, and he can already picture you heading in here with his name on your tongue, demanding they call him or they’ll be sorry.

And by the look on your face, you’re the emergency contact of the other three idiots here. At least Mercer was smart enough to pump his legs if he’s going to be stupid. Although Nico would prefer that he doesn’t ditch you again in a crisis, especially because it’s his job to protect you.

You hang up, giggling. “Time to bail out my boys,” you cheer. “At least Luke. Poor baby needs to get some ice on his butt.”

“And his face,” Nico snorts. “I get to see that video right?”

“Oh yeah. I’m already asking for the security cam footage in the parking lot too.”

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight

As always, I have edits:

This will make more sense at the end.

I came across some theories about this song, and wanted to look at it in depth.

We are reading with the understanding that he may be referring to Eddie.

[A gentle piano and bassoon track begins playing.]

The sun is low, it’s cold and dark,— end of season, but could also be a reference to night and danger after dark

Just wind and snow, I must remark,

The bugs all head to slumberland,—interesting given the use of toyland, also the commercial about remderem/insomnia (some must sleep but Wally is in the opposite state. Too aware?), but could be a reference to death, like “the big sleep”

Some might find it sad, but I understand,—on face value, he will miss his friends, but knows that it is inevitable.

Even if I might not be able to see you,—can’t see Eddie because he is gone/buried

I know it’s for the best, I can’t keep you,—Eddie staying would lead to serious consequences for Eddie

It’s time for all of you to get some rest,—after what we saw Eddie go through, I bet he would be better in a different state

To tuck you all into your arthropod nests,—bug stuff; also Julie's hibernation?

At this point, those last few lines could refer to a sort of death for Eddie. Almost like frank can preserve him in some way by giving him a death in this universe. If we are talking puppet world, which we did see in commercials, most of Eddie’s anxiety happened in that state. So, can Frank give Eddie a suspended or death like state in one of the layers of reality and he is preserved in storybook world or our real world?

With one last check, that nothing is amiss,

I can see you safe into your chrysalis,—this reads that he will put Eddie into a different state of being that he can come back from. The coming back is my interpretation only at this point because I assume frank wouldn’t choose death for him or would for sure be hurt by Eddie’s death. Things would have to be very bad if true death is a better option for Eddie.

Also, it hearkens back to the horror butterfly image. Another also, caterpillar to butterfly, an insinuation of emedging into a new form. I don’t see allusions to Howdy in here, but I suppose it is possible that this could refer to more than one neighbor and Frank is taking them all out.

As you snuggle down into your dirt,—reference to being buried?

I want to assure you that I won’t be hurt.

This clarifies that it is a sleeping type state, not death. Ok, here is we’re Eddie’s Halloween costume comes in. Frankenstein, changed from the Scarecrow in earlier art (presumably from wizard of oz). Interesting thing about scarecrow vs. Frankenstein is that we see scarecrow taken apart during that film and Frankenstein is famously assembled from parts of different people. Interestinger is the fact that they are both afraid of fire. (I love that Young Frankenstein shows up more than the original in a search.)

Frankenstein (and scarecrow) are both put back together, but for Frankenstein it seems more of a new being, not just a reassembling. Frankenstein (aka frankenstein’s monster) is a thinking, speaking individual that was horrified at the situation he was in. Frankenstein in the book murders to punish his creator for the immorality of creating him and the resulting loneliness that the monster feels. As such, the choice is very interesting. If the puppets of welcome home come to be aware or sentient, I wonder how they would feel about Ronald Dorelaine or their situation?

If the movie version is the focus of Eddie’s costume choice, then he would be a potentially thinking and feeling being (he is afraid of fire), but without further evidence we don’t know his thoughts.

Scarecrow is a guy without a brain, with the power of speech, so a kind of opposite. I think they all end up just needing to be confident, which is why some shyster from the Midwest is able to help. This almost seems to be more in tune with Eddie's character--Eddie has a tendency to appear kind of ditsy, is constantly being dismissed by others. In the end, we find out he is actually smart but lacks confidence. I can see that being true for Eddie as well.

If I had to pick out a character for Frank, it would be the Tin Man. Poppy is the Cowardly Lion, Wally is Dorothy. Home is Home. There are more parallels here than I was expecting. Howdy is the Wizard, Julie can be Glenda, and the Wicked Witch...is kind of no one? Sally can be a flying monkey. She works my nerve. Also, the whole spying thing was done by the monkeys in the movie.

But now that I am thinking about it, this comparison makes a lot of sense, in terms of the complex relationships, as well as the levels of reality that you find in Wizard of Oz. A big event leads to a shift in the understanding of reality, and the lead finds themselves in a very colorful world that doesn't much resemble their own, but is very flashy, has songs, beloved characters, and a sense of danger. There are some things when thought about in the context of real life, or the black and white portion of Wizard of Oz, would be truly frightening.

Of course, Wizard of Oz shares a lot of parallels with Alice in Wonderland, which also seems somewhat related. In terms of source material, the Wizard of Oz is considered to be a parable that expresses the thoughts about US economic policy in the 1890's. This is a theory that you can read more about here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_interpretations_of_The_Wonderful_Wizard_of_Oz

It isn't super related, and not everyone believes that this is the case. However, it seems to be a very American type story, no matter what you believe, that touches on the experience of normal people while much larger forces lie and fuck around with everything.

As the holidays begin to approach,

I gently kiss, each and every roach,—kisses for Eddie. We have seen a realistic roach on the secret page with the mishmash of one script where Wally is deciding what to draw

I made sure to keep, my garden cozy,

So you can safely sleep, in fallen posies,—this whole stanza shows a desire to and promise of a quiet death and maybe even a maintained grave. I looked up posies to see where Eddie could potentially be buried. Posies refer to a nosegay, or small bouquet of flowers. It was a Victorian secret code thing, a way to declare love or even reject people based on flower and color. One that sticks with us in the form of red roses signifying love. On the map, there is a cluster of yellow flowers to the side of Frank’s house. Not sure this counts as his garden, since it is on the other side of the house. Julie has a group of flowers behind her house, but once again, not his garden. No fallen flowers that I can ID.

When googling posey, this is what comes up. I felt that there was a flower called a posey, and these do look like the big yellow flowers by Frank’s house. If any flowers fall in updates, I am going to assume someone is buried there.

There is also the ring around the roses rhyme, which could relate, but I don’t really see a correlation.

It’s time to get comfortable in your honeycomb,

take your winter intermission in your garden loam,—dirt, burying again

neatly nestled from the cold in roots and rhi-ya-zomes, — cozy dead

sleeping side by side under stately stones,—2 dead? Headstones is the link I make there--OK, now look at the pic! (I know, it's a reach.)

…And I’ll be inside of my home,—frank is staying to oversee something. It reads like calming the person who will die. This seems to bolster that arguments that I addressed in the post about bugs on the previous website, that Frank is working against, or at least parallel to Wally. With the bugs, the whispering to Eddie, and using his first name, I think it is reasonable to suggest that Frank is working against Wally and/or Home.

Another potential clue is the hidden video with the clothespins where 1 is upside down. I have theorized that it is a reference to Barnaby dying, but it could be Barnaby and Eddie. Only one clothespin is shown upside down though, so Barnaby or Eddie?

Regardless of how I feel you need to go away,

I’ll be the one to tell you, you just can’t stay,—he likes bugs but this is extreme of Frank, if he is talking about actual bugs

Thankfully I lack a sentimental sensibility,—true that, he generally seems calm.

I enjoy my Methodical Mundanity,—why is this capitalized? I looked and looked but I can’t find the origin of this phrase, though it came up a few times in random posts and articles. Clown does have a tendency to capitalize things that seem random. Me below is also capitalized. I listened as well, and I have to wonder why the singing is so bad? I don’t think the voice actors are bad at singing, seems like a deliberate choice to have reedy and unsteady vocals, pitch issues and pacing problems.

Where all that’s left is… Me.

So, this is a bit extreme for a song about hibernating bugs. I think that given our many references to bisecting or otherwise putting people into pieces (Eddie butterfly horror, frank in a pile of body parts, look I made a dog, and slinky Barnaby, now Frankenstein and Scarecrow) that we could be looking at death in a sense that works in one layer of reality. You disassemble a puppet, it is no longer a puppet. So what if Frank = Frankenstein and Eddie is Frankenstein’s monster? Frank can take him apart and put him back together in puppet reality?

If I had to guess, I am sticking with my working theory. Frank, as the smartest guy in the neighborhood, is the resistant force in the neighborhood. Wally/Home is/are the catalyst for the scary stuff. They are central to everything, physically and otherwise.

I have mentioned that in the last update, Sally and Poppy have the appearance of spies or managing Eddie. Given that Poppy doesn’t attend to party, I am anticipating that Eddie was isolated and watched by Sally during this planning period, where Wally and Barnaby walk the neighborhood to find out what Homewarming is. Given that it is said that Wally and Home instigated Homewarming, it is strange that everyone knows what it is except for Wally. It reads more as an attempt to achieve a goal, despite everyone knowing about the holiday. Even Julie is at the party, and she is supposed to be hibernating. Well, they don't say exactly when Julie hibernates (maybe there was something about her doing it after the holiday?) Anyway, Poppy isn't at Homewarming. She could be at home, but the book stating that they are all here seems like an attempt to cover up her absence. What is she doing? Snooping in the Post Office while Sally watches Eddie? Does Eddie want to go home for not feeling well or he has an idea of what is happening while he is gone?

Maybe Frank sees his boyfriend and comrade at arms about to get hit with something bad, so to preserve him and the opposition, he is going to disassemble him (cue Johnny 5) for protection.

In the past, Sonny (the Brazilian bird) was cast as the opposition to Wally, and included in a relationship with Frank. This work in particular comes to mind:

Clown has stated that they removed Sonny from the project due to the story changing from one with a hero, to one without, as that wasn't the story that they wanted to tell. What if, though, instead of Sonny being written out for the hero reason, there was another reason? What if we are seeing Frank taking on being the neighborhood's savior? He is just snarky enough to make it seem less like a hero situation and more because it was impacting his garden.

[seungfl0wer]

𝑨𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔

Chapter 1 -> Title: Flower Girl

Chapter Warning: Nothing really? Mentions of stomach pain? Sorry for any mistakes!

Series Master List

A/N: It’s finally here 😭 please this is a lot of backstory and stuff so I hope you guys enjoy it! I’m honestly nervous posting it, like super nervous.

-🐾

You sighed loudly as you got out of bed, stretching moving to crack your back. “Ugh that was a rough night” you grumbled walking toward your door. As you walked down the stairs you were greeted by your mom who had just baked some cookies. “Hey sleepy head you were supposed to be up already, your dad needs help down at the shop” she said giving you a little packed lunch. “Do I get a cookie with my lunch?” You smiled as you peered over her shoulder to grab one. “Nuh uh these are for my meeting today” she said swatting your hand away.

You whined making her roll her eyes “there’s one in your bag, now go. You’re already late” she said poking your side. You smiled putting your shoes on quickly slipping out the door waving bye to her.

As you reached your dad’s store you could see the few cars already parked outside. Walking in you were greeted by smiling regulars. Your mother and father ran a business together one side was hers where she made baked goods and coffee. The other side was his where he sold gardening supplies and plants. He was known as a handy man around the town. He helped fix a lot of things for people, like pipes, floors, roofs you name it. You helped in both aspects however you enjoyed helping your dad with landscaping the most. Planting beautiful floral arrangements and crops.

As you sat your stuff down you heard your dad grumble in the back. Following the noise you saw him struggling to grab something from a shelf. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit making him turn his head. “Bout time you get outta bed” he teased. “Hey hey you keep it up and I’m not gonna help you get that” you teased back. Your parents were very kind people, they always did what was best for you. Always tried to do right by you and make sure you were always taken care of.

“Are you gonna help or just hold up the wall?” He joked. You rolled your eyes before stretching to grab the bag, a sharp pain going through your stomach. You winced almost dropping the heavy dirt bag on yourself. “Ah- y/n be careful” he said grabbing it from you. You grabbed your side rubbing it, the pain was gone already. You thought it was just from the weight of the bag so you continued your day not thinking much of it. As you were picking up some trash from the side you felt the sharp pain again. This time it didn’t stop right away, the pain went straight through your stomach.

You groaned out sitting a bit down as you tried to ease the pain. However it only started to grow more, you didn’t know what to do so you yelled for your dad. You could feel tears pricking as the pain intensified. It felt like someone took a knife and just slid it through your ribs. When your dad got to you he stopped dead in his tracks. A smell you hadn’t noticed radiating off of you. He quickly picked you up helping you into the shop. He took you into the back room shutting and locking the door quickly.

“Y/n didn’t you take your medicine today?” He asked his eyes looking over you worryingly. You nod “I- I did- I haven’t missed a day” you stammered out “ugh why’s it hurt so much” you said voice breaking. His eyes widened looking almost panicked “I need to make a call. Do. NOT. Leave this room. Got it?” He said sternly. You nod again before he left he kissed the top of your head “don’t worry ok?” He said before ruffling your hair a bit. He left the room leaving you there hunched over in pain.

A few minutes had gone by before you heard your dad’s voice “Are you fucking kidding me? How’s that even possible?” He said. His voice full of anger and worry you wondered what and who he was talking to. You heard the door open seeing him peer in, he scrunched his nose a bit looking at you.

“Y/n, sweetheart.. we have.. we have a problem” he said pulling up a seat to sit beside you. “The pills that help suppress your scent and heat are.. well since you’re getting older they’re kind of.. not working anymore especially since you’ve been taking them for so long. He said his voice almost shaky like he was scared. Ever since they found out you were an omega they had you put on these pills that suppressed it. Especially your smell and heat. They did this for your own safety and happiness. They wanted you to grow up free of the label. Free of others trying to get to you simply for what you were.

They knew how packs were, how they treated omegas. Most packs anymore couldn’t get ahold of a true omega a lot of them hiding or settling down with a loner. They were also very worried about how you fell into an almost alpha category as well. A lot of wolfs anymore had “tendencies”. What use to be mating for genes and keeping “pure bloods” has almost all but gone. Now everyone is a bit whatever? Both of your parents are betas however your grandmother and grandfather were an alpha and omega couple.

You turned out to be an omega however you had “alpha tendencies” which was almost unheard of. Even if they found you a good mate that aspect of you could ruin it.

The way your dad looked at you almost like he failed you. “The doctor said it could also be because of the alpha like side you have.” He said. He pulled you close to him holding you into a tight hug “my little girl.. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from this” he said his words almost choking in his throat. You held onto him the pain still surging through your stomach. “So.. what can we do?” You said softly looking up at him. Those big puppy eyes of yours making his heart ache “I don’t know, but I’ll find a solution” he said rubbing your back.

He closed the shop up early taking you home to get you comfortable. Your mom coming home giving you some extra cookies she had left. The pain was slowly dying down but your scent was strong. Although you had these tendencies you were just an omega. The smell of you radiating through the room like a sick honey smell. Your head was spinning from the whole day. You curled up with your pillows falling asleep quickly.

As morning came you could hear your dad talking again. His phone has been blowing up all morning. The news must have gotten out because you saw a post “well known daughter of (father’s name) has been discovered to be an omega.” A chill went up your spine looking at it seeing the comments.

—🐾—

A rustle coming down the stairs sounding like a stampede. “Chan look!” The bright eyed boy says to the older one. “We’ve talked to her before! And she’s an omega!” The blonde says holding his phone in the other’s face. He snatches the phone looking over the article “it’s the pretty flower girl” he said softly looking at the phone smiling. “Chaaan! You should talk to her dad!” He said eyes sparkling at him. “What makes you think he’s gonna let me have his daughter lix?” He said with a chuckle.

“Come on if anyone will take care of her well it’s us! Where also you know.. the biggest pack here that takes care of everyone” he says rolling his eyes a bit. “You gotta try at least!” He said with a pout. Chan lets out a deep breath “fine, I’ll contact him and see what I can do.”

And he did he rang up your father talking for a bit “I know with the news out you’re gonna be bombarded with other people but let me take her? Let me make her our omega and we’ll treat her like the queen she is” he said over the phone. Your father was thinking a mile a minute “how do I know you’re gonna keep her safe?” He questioned “how do I know you aren’t just gonna hurt her and.. use her?” He continued.

“Sir, I promise I’d never let anything happen to her or do anything to hurt her. I’ve seen her many times in there and even before the news I thought she was just such a beautiful angel” Chan rambled on.

Your dad sighed a bit “come over and we can talk about this?” He said giving Chan the address to your home. After getting off the phone Chan had an audience now. “So?” Felix asked all eyes on Chan. “I’m going to talk to him. We’ll see how it goes” he said grabbing his jacket. “I’ll be back later” he said before leaving.

—🐾—

This brings us to now. A wide known alpha in your town a very wealthy one at that standing downstairs. You peered down when you heard the unfamiliar voice accidentally locking eyes with him. It felt like your heart hitched up into your throat. It was beating so loudly you swore it was shaking the whole house.

“Ah- there’s my sweets” your dad says with a hopeful smile. “Come here?” He asked patting the chair beside him. Your body was almost frozen but somehow you started to move. You smiled politely at the man before sitting down. Your mom came over sitting some cookies down for everyone to snack on.

“So.. let’s get to it hmm?” Your dad says breathing out loudly. “Bangchan here, would like too.. have you as his omega. His mate.” Your father spoke. His words circled in your head you wanted to say something but your eyes were locked on the man infront of you. “What do you think?” Your dad said taking your hand. “Why do you want ME as your mate? Is it souly for what I am?” You spoke bluntly. Chan smiles a bit finding your bluntness a bit funny. “Well not exactly, I’ve always thought you were beautiful when I’d come in the store. However I know your dads kind of in a hard place here with you”

You looked over at your dad and he just nodded a bit “I would have offered him money but I can’t really put a price tag on you.” He said with a smile. Ugh his smile. It had your heart thumping even more. You had to admit, seeing him come in the store you’d definitely developed a crush. He was very handsome, his cute little dimples poking out as he smiled.

“He’s the best option y/n, I’ll at least know you’re safe and can still see you.” He said rubbing your hand. “Have you told him about the uhm problem though?” You asked. Chan tilted his head looking at you both. “Not yet” your dad said looking over at him. He sighed a bit “y/n has alpha tendencies.” He said. “Which basically just means she can get more controlling, more aggressive and her heats can be a bit more intense.” He said studying the man’s face.

“Just sounds like she’s a strong woman, someone who’s not afraid to fight for what she wants. Not afraid to protect her pack” he said with a that big smile. “It doesn’t bother you?” The question slipping past your lips. He chuckles a bit “No? Should it?” His voice sounded almost teasing. You felt a blush creep up as he smiled once again, The sight making him smile even bigger.

“So it’s settled then? You’ll be mine. Ours?” He said looking at you. You tilted your head a bit “ours?” You questioned. He nodded “My boys will love you just as much. They’d be basically your other mates.” He said cocking his head to the said like you. “It’s a new way these packs are running” your dad spoke looking over at him. Chan nodded “yeah, plus they already are excited to see you. I can’t keep you all to myself, you’re to beautiful not to share” he said his cheeks blushing a bit at his words.

“I know it’s a lot but you don’t hav-“ he started before you cut him off. “I want to. I’ll do it. I’ll be your omega. As long as you promise I can come see my family” you said words sounding like a plea. He couldn’t help the big smile that spread across his face. “Of course! I’d never keep you from them! I’m not trapping you with us silly. You’re free to come and go, although I’d feel safe if one of us would join you. I know how others are” he said looking over at your dad who nodded.

“Welp I guess it settled! You’re coming with me” he said eyes smiling at you. “I’ll come back tomorrow for you if that’s ok? I’ll let you guys have time together” he said standing up. Bangchan shook your dad’s hand, giving your mom a hug before looking at you “may I hug you?” The way he asked his voice soft, sweet like sugar. You nod and before you knew it he had his arms around you. He pulled you into a big hug and it just felt- felt so warm? So cozy and loving like this was where you were meant to be.

When he pulled away his cheeks were bright red “I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the boys. God they’re gonna love you” he said kissing your cheeks almost quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, your dad has my number if you’d like to talk tonight” he said. With another smile and a wave he was gone.

So many thoughts circled your head but you were almost excited for this new chapter in your life. Excited to feel what it felt like to be yourself. Not someone hiding.

—🐾—

As Chan opened the door to his place, he chuckled a bit at the scene in front of him. The boys all sitting in the living room presumably waiting for him. As the door opened their head turned to look at him. “Chan! So so!” Felix said running towards him. He tried to play it like you said no but he couldn’t hide the smile. “You can’t lie old man tell us” he heard a voice coming from the couch. He rolled his eyes “she said yes!” He said a big smile plastered across his voice. “No way!” Felix squealed hugging Chan tightly. “When is she coming? Does she know about us? Do you think she’ll love all of us?” Felix’s questions seemed never ending.

Chan chuckled “tomorrow, yes and of course she will” he said ruffling his hair a bit. The boys talked amongst themselves before one of them spoke “I’ll go to the store tomorrow and get some stuff” he said. “I’ll get stuff to make a good dinner tomorrow” he continued. “You know what she likes?” He asked. “Minho, anything you make I’m sure she’d love” Chan said back to him making the other man smile. “Changbin and I will put her room together, the rest of you need to clean the house.” Chan said looking around.

“Can I make cookies? I know her mom bakes so I’m sure she would like some” Felix said with a smile. Chan nodded “yeah that sounds good!” As the boys talked Chan noticed your father had sent him your phone number. He quickly saved it texting you “hey there beautiful, I just wanted to ask what some of your favorite things are? Like food and stuff? Oh oh what’s your favorite color?” He asked sending the message. You felt your heart do a little pitter patter as you smiled reading his message. You texted back a small list of your favorite foods and snack. Telling him a few colors you liked. You looked around your room realizing most of your stuff was black blue or red. You laughed a bit “majority of my stuffed animals are blue, but the rest of my room is darker colors. I wear a lot of darker colors too” you texted.

“Oh so mysterious🫢” he texted back making you giggle.

“Oh yeah totally, not because black matches everything or anything like that” you teased. You thought to yourself how easy it seemed. How easy it seemed to talk to him, to feel comfortable.

“I hope you sleep well beautiful, everyone is excited to meet you. I’m excited to be able to have you here.” He messaged back.

You could feel your cheeks heat up making you smile like some high school girl texting her crush. “I hope I don’t disappoint” you texted back. You rolled over thinking to yourself. ‘I really hope they all like me.. I hope I’ll live up to their standards’

“Never could beautiful.” He texted. Sending another one right after “oh here!” He sent a picture of all of them. “From left to right it’s Jisung, Minho, Changbin, Seungmin and the three below are Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix” he texted.

“Where are you?” You said studying the picture.

“Oh I took the photo” he texted back. The boys around his were already cleaning the place up a bit.

“Oh :(“ you replied back you pouted a bit.

He chuckled at your reply sending a selfie of himself. “Sorry love here’s a picture of me, all you had to do was ask” he said making himself chuckle a bit.

Seeing the pet name made your heart pound if your cheeks were warm before they’re on fire now. “You all are so very handsome..” you sent the message as you were about to type back something like ‘to handsome for me’ he replied.

“Handsome men just for their beautiful mate” he texted. He was all blushy now telling the boys how you think they’re handsome. The roars and hoots that came from them made him laugh. Your heart thudded again you wanted to squeal at his words before you could text back he was texting you again. “Get some sleep my love, we’ll see you in the morning!” He texted.

You sighed a bit knowing you better cause it was gonna be a long day tomorrow. Getting comfy you texted back one more time “fine fine, good night. I will see you.. and everyone tomorrow. Hope you all sleep well. Good night handsome.. goodnight other handsomes” you giggled a bit yawning before curling up into your bed.

He blushed at your words “goodnight my love, we all can’t wait to see you. They all said goodnight as well.” Chan texted back. “Alright boys, we’ll continue to clean in the morning but we should all sleep.” He said getting up patting Minhos back with a smile. “Bed let’s go” Minho said standing up. The rest of the boys following suit. Their minds spinning with happiness, excited for tomorrow. Excited to see their beautiful mate.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @stayconnecteed @minniesverse @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @lunearta @hello-stranger24 @justastraymoa @hyun-prince @catlove83 @lunearta @iknow-uknow-leeknow @chocolateislife @jisungs-iced-americano @doitforbangchan @minghaosimp @jeonginsleftcheek

[brandwhorestarscream]

part 4? can we get a part 4? holy fuck

i love these stupid pregnant robots . what da hell

big dad alpha trion also just Y_Y is so good.... what an utter papa bear

Here we go anon, as requested! I love stupid pregnant robots too uwu

Previous parts are here: part 1, part 2, part 3

And yes I agree, Alpha Trion is such a big cuddly papa bear 🥺 I'm so glad you see my vision. Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy part 4.

...

“You…” he takes a shaky invent. “Y-You really… wouldn’t mind?” Orion nods in affirmation, and Dee gives his first, weak little smile in days. “Ok,” it comes out in a whispered rush. “Alright… y-yeah, ok… let’s- l-let’s do it.”

It’s a small comfort that the cave is spacious, with many side caverns and walls to duck behind for privacy. Dee can’t stand the idea of anyone else seeing, of being on display. He doesn’t want anyone else to see him, nor does he want to see anyone else… no one but Orion.

They’re both nervous, and unsure of what to do. They sit side by side in a cozy, private little alcove away from the others, side by side with shoulders pressed together and EM fields mingling gently.

Beside him, Orion is warm. An ever comforting presence.

D-16 swallows, and inches his fingers over toward Pax. Their digits brush and he flinches minutely but Orion isn’t bothered. He turns his servo over, pressing the back of his digits into the dirt, leaving his palm open and waiting. Dee slowly, carefully, sliding his hand into his, fingers curling together to hold each other gently.

“...I’m scared.” he admits in a tiny, croaking voice, and Orion squeezes his hand.

“I know,” he leans over to lay his helm on the silver mech’s shoulder. “I am too.”

“How…” Dee shifts his weight. “How do we… I mean-” he covers his face, embarrassed. “H-How should we… start…?”

This is unexplored territory for both of them. They’d never interfaced with anyone properly. They’d never been taught how. And after everything with Sentinel, well… they’re both worried.

Orion looks up at him, optics twinkling. He offers a shaky smile. “Well, uh… i-in the books, we- we would, um-!” he lets out a sudden, anxious sound almost like a breathless laugh. Heat gushes out of his vents and he startles, beginning to stammer. “I- I mean, it’s just- you know, in- in the books we’d- ah, s-sorry, I- hehe…!”

It’s rare to see Orion so flustered he can’t get his words out, and Dee’s spark warms in his chassis.

“In the books, we‘d…?” he jostles his shoulder as Orion’s face visibly discolors in flushed embarrassment. “What? We’d… kiss each other?”

“Y- Yeah!” his best friend’s optics are darting around, looking at anything but him. “That. Can I…? I mean, i-if you’re ok with it?”

When Dee nods, Orion sits up, wringing his servos nervously before leaning forward, reaching out to him. His servo delicately cups one silver cheek, thumb brushing over the soft, beautiful expanse of his face, and his optics soften. A gooey smile spreads on his face, and Dee squirms as his sparkpulse quickens. Orion’s never… looked at him quite like that before. “I’m,” Orion looks just as nervous as he feels. “G-Gonna… kiss you, now. Ok?”

Again, Dee nods, wholly trusting, and lets his optics fall closed, face slack and lips slightly parting in preparation.

Their first kiss is soft, and clumsy, and a bubbling, flying euphoria erupts in his chest with such intensity he actually reels back. D-16’s optics fly open wide when Orion’s mouth connects with his, and it’s every bit as wonderful and magical as he always dreamt it would be. Jazz had once described it as having a nest of scraplets in your tummy, which sounded wholly unenjoyable, but now that he’s living it? He feels like he’s floating: it’s like gravity has released it’s chains on him and he’s free of the shackles. The joy and contentment, the love, that springs forth in his core at that one, simple act is indescribable.

They separate and Orion’s optics flutter: he feels it too, the rising excitement, the rush of emotion; his face splits into a beaming smile and he starts giggling, before grabbing Dee’s face in both hands and kissing him again. Not forceful, just excited, and Dee can feel the way delighted laughter makes his frame tremble. Despite himself, he starts laughing too, and kisses him back, bringing his arms up to clumsily wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

They tumble into the dirt together, giggling and holding onto each other. They're clumsy and inexperienced, and sometimes the kisses are even downright sloppy, but they're both happier than they've been in awhile just to be there with each other. Hands running over each other's bodies, stroking at seams and shyly looking for sensitive spots, they work at steadily building charge as one.

It's not long before Dee is squirming: his insides feel warm and gooey, and there's a throbbing, hungry sensation deep down in his core. His valve feels wet and slippery, his spike feels tight inside it's housing, and they're both pulsing with the desire to be touched.

His interface panel retracts with a soft click, and Orion kisses his neck. “...are you nervous?” The blue mech asks, and D-16 can feel the warm gush of air from his vents.

“...yeah,” he shivers and curls closer to Orion, snaking one leg between his. “But… I wanna do this. I,” he swallows. “I'm ready.”

A blue servo gently cups his face, and Orion gives him the gentlest, softest kiss that makes his spark stutter in his chassis. A punch of heat rolls into his belly, and D-16 whimpers, needy.

With great care, Orion sits up as Dee lays out on his back. He slides his hands up thick silver thighs, intently watching his friend’s face for any sign of discomfort. There is none, and rather, he tries to wiggle closer. Orion gently parts his thighs, maneuvering himself between them, taking a moment to admire D-16’s bared array. He's beautiful, chubby spike bobbing in the air with every shallow inhale and exhale, pulsing softly with yellow biolights, a drop of pearlescent, glowing fluid gathering at the tip and growing larger with each breath. His valve is even cuter, lips round and plush to protect his most intimate area, already visibly wet, pink lubrication collecting like dewdrops all along the rim. He trembles under Orion's gaze, cheeks discolored as he mumbles, “Hey, c-c'mon, don't stare…”

“Sorry-” Orion sounds breathless, struggling to pull his optics away to look up at his face. “I'm sorry, you're just-” his glossa darts out to moisten his derma. “P-Pretty.”

Dee's vocalizer makes an embarrassed squeaking noise, and he covers his face, a bright but undeniably flustered smile spreading on his face. He giggles behind his fingers, and Orion can't help but snicker along with him, leaning down to kiss his forehelm. Pulling back, he rubs his thighs a few more times before delicately moving his servos toward the bared interface array. His fingers just barely brush the other mech's spike, and D-16 gasps, hips jumping. Fluid dribbles down his spike, and his biolights flash fever bright.

“Sorry-!” He's biting one finger, looking down at himself with wide optics. His fans have kicked on full blast. “S- Sensitive!”

Orion smiles, and lowers himself down, sliding into the dirt so he's laying on his belly between his legs. He's never done this before–except for with Sentinel, and that did not count–but he'd read plenty of explicit novels, and in those, starting off with oral was always a safe option. He wraps both servos around Dee's spike, exhaling a breath over it and smiling at the way his hips jerk again. He kisses the tip of his spike then sucks it into his mouth: above him, D-16 helm drops back and he moans up the ceiling above. He tastes salty, and sweet, and Orion hums to himself as he works it to the back of his mouth, glossa swirling around the length to wet it and aid the slide. Dee swiftly unravels, every vent paired with a wheezy moan as Orion works him over.

When the head of his spike bumps the back of his mouth, Orion pulls back, till only the tip is between his lips. He suckles at it, swirling his glossa around the tip, before sucking it back down in. Dee thrashes, hips stuttering and trying to roll into the sensation: Orion sets a pace as well as he can, bobbing his helm up and down, sucking and licking like he's one of those cold, dissolvable treats Ratchet sometimes gives them when they inevitably overheat during the hot season.

“Pax, Pax!” D-16 is swiftly coming undone, servos clawing at the ground, vents fast and shallow as he tries to warn him, “I'm gonna- gonna-!”

He overloads with a wail of Orion's name, a warbling affair that tapers off into wordless moaning. His spike swells in Orion’s mouth and hot fluid gushes onto his tongue, smoky-sweet and nearly scalding. He chokes in surprise, a trickle of it splashing over his bottom lip, but he swiftly gulps the rest down, swallowing more on reflex than anything. It tastes good, he realizes, pulling back to let the spent spike ease out of his mouth. He licks his lips, wiping one hand over his chin to clean up the mess; his glossa is already halfway through licking up the transfluid on his fingers before he even realizes it. 

D-16 looks incredibly relaxed, splayed out on his back and twitching softly, mouth open and panting, optics flickering as he stares up at the ceiling.

“...was it good?” Orion asks hesitantly, hoping he did alright.

Dee responds with a noncommittal noise and a shaky thumbs up. Orion preens, feeling proud of himself. While his partner is still cycling his vents and coming down from the high, Orion sits up again. His interface retracts with an audible ‘schlkk!’ and D-16 twitches.

“Sorry-” Orion tries to stuff his spike back away, but it's uncooperative, straining and hard despite his forceful pushing. Dee’s dazed optics are fixed on him, blinking sleepily. “S-Sorry, it's ok, we can wait, w-we don't have to if you're not ready yet-”

One silver leg lifts and clumsily wraps around him, trying to pull him closer. “‘m ready,” he murmurs, sounding dazed as he reaches both arms out toward Orion. “Please, Pax… I'm ready.” The smile on his face is fragile, but so deep and genuine it makes Orion’s spark feel gooey. “I wanna… do it with you. Touch me… please?”

And there his spark goes, swelling with such tender, affectionate emotion it could only be love. He nods, throat suddenly feeling tight. “Kay- O-Ok!”

He inches closer, hands sliding over his thighs to grab Dee-16 by the hips, pulling him close. He can feel the heat radiating from between his partner's legs, and it makes his spike throb desperately. It's a bit awkward, trying to line up with his valve, and after two unsuccessful attempts he dips his helm, cheeks feeling hot, wrapping one servo around his spike and nearly yelping at the sensation. Primus, he's sensitive! He guides the tip of his spike to the lips of Dee’s valve, and just bumping against the warm, wet entrance has him clenching his denta and willing himself not to overload already.

Beneath him, Dee whimpers, and he catches a glance of his expression. His optics are wide and round, something frightened at the edge of his expression, as if bracing for impact, and Orion knows he's unwillingly thinking about Sentinel.

“...hey,” he uses his free hand to take one of Dee's, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. He pulls his hand up to kiss, nuzzling the back with his nose. “It's ok. It's just the two of us, he can't get you. It's just us.”

D-16 sobs, and Orion leans down to kiss his forehelm. Dee let's go of his hand, instead winding both arms around his neck. “I know,” his expression is watery. “Y-You're not him. You're not,” he presses his face into the underside of Orion’s neck. He takes several deep vents, then says, “...ok. I'm- I'm ready now. You can, um-” he squeaks in embarrassment, unable to voice their word. “G-Go ahead.”

Orion's spike breaches the rim of his valve, and the silver mech keens. Both legs tense on either side of his partner, and his arms tighten around him. Orion sinks in slowly, as slow as he possibly can, gently pushing his spike further and further in. There's little resistance or friction, but it's still an incredibly tight fit. Dee’s valve flutters around him, slippery and warm, and he bites his glossa. Don't cum yet, don't cum yet, don't cum yet-!

Beneath him, D-16 whimpers, and his lips begin pressing clumsy kisses to his neck. Over two sensitive neck cables, then his glossa ghosts over a very particular nerve cluster, and Orion breaks. Overload rockets through him like a surge of electricity and he crumples forward onto his partner, pressing him into the cave floor, spike twitching and suddenly letting off a burst of transfluid before he's even fully sheathed inside his valve. Orion moans and tries to stop it, but he's helpless, hips stuttering in mini thrusts as he spills his load.

“Pax-”

“I'msorry-” he lets out in a rush as he finishes, shame burning at his audials. “I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean-”

Beneath him, D-16 snorts, to his dismay, then starts laughing. His EM field suddenly flares to life; where it had previously been tucked in and nervous, suddenly it's warm and relaxed and happy.

“Aww, Pax,” Dee gently lifts his helm, optics warm and smile loving, contrasted by Orion's embarrassed pout. All the previous tension has bled out of his frame, and he brings his servos down to gently cradle his partner's face. He kisses the tip of his nose. “S'ok. Really. Don't be upset!”

Orion's brow furrows, cheeks puffing out as he averts his optics. “S'not funny.”

“It's cute,” D-16 insist, before pulling his face close to kiss him. He feels better now, honestly, so much more comfortable. Orion has no experience, same as him. They're figuring it out together, they've not had a chance to build their skills. It's comforting, honestly, knowing that they're stumbling into uncharted territory together. It makes him feel safe. Like an equal. The kiss deepens after a moment, Dee's glossa rubbing at his bottom lip and into his mouth–only to recoil, sputtering. “Primus!” he coughs at Orion's confused look. “Is that what I taste like?!”

“Pfffft-!” That breaks Orion's self-conscious cloud, and suddenly he's laughing, too. “I mean… yeah?”

“Augh!” Dee shakes his helm, sticking his glossa out. “Gross!”

“I liked it.” an impish smirk spreads on Orion’s face, and he moves to kiss him again, but Dee blocks his mouth with one hand.

“No!” He yelps, snickering. “You are not kissing me like that, not til you wash your mouth out!”

“Fiiiine,” he pops an energon cube out of storage, chewing it as fast as he can to freshen his breath. “Better?”

Dee kisses him again, nodding. “Much.” He gently wiggles in place, and a half-moan tumbles out of his lips. Orion's spike is still buried deep inside him, still hard, still throbbing against sensitive nerve clusters. His valve tightens around him, trying to pull him in, and Orion whimpers.

D-16 reclines back against the floor, pulling Orion with him. Their hands entwine, lips tangling together. Their first time interfacing is clumsy, gentle, and rife with overwhelming love and trust. Embracing in the cavern, they make love to each other for the first time, EM fields blending as one and sparks singing in euphoria between them. Pleasure builds between them to a great, soaring crescendo, and they cling to each other, sobbing in ecstasy when imminent overload swallows them both.

D-16 clings to Orion in all aspects: chest to chest, mouth to mouth, fingers grasping tightly to him as his legs lock around his hips, keeping his spike buried deep in his valve. He feels overstimulated in the best way, electric pleasure thrumming through his whole body and he sobs in ecstasy through his first and second and third overload. He can feel Orion’s transfluid filling him up, siphoned into his gestation tank. The transfluid levels creep from red to yellow to green, and his middle begins to feel heavy and warm and full. He imagines the sparkling growing inside of him, body grown from the seeds of a mech he loves and adores so much. An adorable child with his and Orion's features alike, perhaps with his lover’s crooked smile or his little helm horns or the shape of his optics, and the thought is so enticing a fourth overload rolls through his body. All he can do is hang on and moan, trying not to drool.

By the time his gestation tank is topped up, they're both sweaty, sticky, and swollen: Orion collapses on top of him, vents heaving great clouds of steam as D-16 pants and gasps beneath him.

The blue mech rolls off and then, with a final heave of strength, switches their positions. Orion laying in the dirt with D-16 half on top of him. Gazing at each other, dazed, the tips of their noses touch. Orion cracks an exhausted, barely there smile, and Dee returns it, using his last bit of energy to move his head forward, pressing their forehelms together.

“I love you…”

The murmured declaration comes as they snuggle against each other, afterglow lulling them to recharge. It’s like being surrounded in the warm glow of a lantern, cuddled together like that: he’s never felt quite so warm or safe or loved, and laying his helm down on Orion’s chassis, he truly feels that everything will be alright. So long as they have each other, so long as he can bask in this connection forever, nothing could ever be unfixable or impossible. Orion’s arms come up to hold him, one servo bracing gently on his belly, and D-16 turns his helm to press a sleepy kiss against his chassis.

They’re going to be ok.

...

And that's a wrap on part 4! Sorry it took a bit longer than anticipated, I really wanted to nail these two in this scene. Awkward, sweet first-time sex gave me more trouble than I thought it would. I'm out of practice lmao.

Aaaaaanyways, I hope you enjoyed! Same thing as always, I'll get started on part 5 and post it once ya'll lmk you wanna see more. Beat the crap out of my ask box, do the rebloggy thing, comment, you know what to do!

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[slasherstories123]

Hii!! I Hope this isn’t asking too much but do you know if you could write about the reader giving rz Michael a bubble bath in like those claw foot baths where his knees would be sticking out, and he would have a pile of soap suds on top of his head and he would be entertained by a little rubber ducky as we wash him with those big yellow sponges? If you can’t that’s completely ok and don’t worry about it!! It would just be a cute fluffy moment between the 2!

Bath time

RZ!Michael Myers x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby

You slowly blinked while staring ahead at the alarm clock. It was close to midnight and your killer boyfriend haven’t came back yet and it’s nearly been three hours. It wasn’t like you could do anything, you wouldn’t know where to look if you wanted to do a search to find him. The more time he was gone, the more your mind started to wander and think the worst case scenarios. You shook your head to make them stop but they kept coming, making you sit up straight to walk around.

What if he finally got caught…or worse…did someone finally manage to kill him? Is he gone for good..?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you said to yourself while trying to get something to drink. “This is Michael we’re talking about, he’s strong enough to handle himself.”

Yet the thought still lingered, he’d always come home badly injured and each time it made you worry that one day he won’t come back for good. People can put up a good fight when it comes to him and it shows from him having scratch marks to literally stab wounds and glass shards in his skin. You poured water in your cup, the thoughts still consuming your brain. A low creak of the wooden floor made you flinch, realizing you overfilled your cup of water and it spilled on the counter. Cursing to yourself as you quickly tried to clean it up and looked where the creak came from.

Michael stood by the couch and you had a hand over your pounding heart at the sight of him, turning on the kitchen light to get a better look at him. Luckily there wasn’t any blood..at least that was his…

His outfit was mainly covered in dirt, you sighed in relief which made him tilt his head at you. “You gave me quite the scare Mike.. but you gotta get out of those close if you want me to wash them. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to sleep with a mud stain on my bed. I can start a bath while you change.” You didn’t care about the glass of water and ran upstairs to get the bath ready, making sure it was warm but was still a little hot, making sure it had lots of soap for him to try and relax in. When you turned around Michael stood at the bathroom doorway. You really didn’t want to tell him to take off his mask but you had to in order for you to wash his hair as well.

“Okay another thing… you’re gonna have to take off your mask,” you saw him let out a deep breath. “Wait wait, you can still wear your paper mache one, I just want to wash your hair as well.” You held your hands up in defense, slowly sliding beside him before leaving the bathroom to go and get one of the old one he made that nearly resembled a pumpkin face with black scribbles. Giving it to him and giving him the privacy he needed. “If you need anything, or need help just knock okay?” Michael nodded, you went back downstairs to try and drink the glass of water now knowing that he’s okay.

I wonder if he got hurt, there wasn’t any blood seeping through his clothes it was only the blood of his victims, even if that was the case it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way to show me I’d have to catch him or pay close attention, he didn’t look injured though.

You heard three knocks, chugging the rest of your water before sprinting upstairs, skipping every two steps to reach to the top faster, hoping he had on the paper mache mask, opening the cracked door to see Michael in the tub. He had his hands on his knees while his knees stuck out of the tub, a yellow rubber ducky floated through the water each time he moved. You forgot that was there.

“Is everything alright?” You asked pointing at him.

He nodded. Pointing at his body and hair.

“You..want me to wash you up?”

He nodded again.

With a tap of your fingers against the wall it took you a moment to remover where you put those large sponges, rushing back downstairs for the third time and grabbing a random cup and large sponge. Coming back up with a small huff from the constant back and forth, still standing and let the sponge absorb some water before pressing down on the bottle of foam soap. Washing up his upper body gently to make sure the soap spread everywhere. Sometimes he’d poke the duck or would squeeze it to make the water come out. You smiled at him being entertained by it. “Alright you gotta wash your lower body, let me know when you’re done I’m gonna put your clothes in the washer.”

He took the sponge silently, you gathered the muddy and dirty clothes and put them in the washer, nearly slamming the washer shut. You then went to your small closet and grabbed a large towel to put in the dryer so it can be warm for him when he comes out. You rubbed your tired yes before going to your room closer,looking for a certain pair of pajamas you bought for him to sleep in, it was hard to find the right size since you couldn’t take him shopping, your best guess was to estimate by the way his clothes looked on him, hoping they weren’t that big on him once he tried them on.

You grabbed the light blue two piece pajamas for him and stood by the bathroom until he knocked again. The three knocks came back and you came in. Wondering how you were going to wash his hair with the paper mache mask in his face. You put down the pajamas.

“Okay.. I’m gonna need you to tilt your head back so the mask won’t get wet.” His hair got dirtier every time you saw it, he desperately needed it washed. You were surprised it was still growing since he didn’t take care of it. Pouring a cup of water over his hair until it was wet and squeezed some shampoo in your hands, massaging his scalp and made sure every last strand of his hair was lathered in shampoo.

You payed attention to his body language since talking was something he never did, his tense form relaxed the more you massaged his scalp with gentle scratches of your fingers the hold on his leg loosened and you cosine sworn you heard him let out a deep sigh. After a few pours, he didn’t have anymore shampoo in his hair. You patted his shoulder to signal you were done, gently gathering his hair to ring out the access water in his hair. “Alright.. I did my part, you can rinse off or stay for as long as you’d like as long as you don’t get my floors wet. Your clothes are on the slink along with a towel. You rushed to get his towel out the dryer, placing it next to his clothing before finally laying down in your bed.

Plopping down on your back, your eyes began to droop needlessly, all that running back and forth made you exhausted along with you staying up waiting for Michael to come home. You didn’t regret it, but now that he was safe in your home, you can relax in peace. You didn’t know how long you managed to sleep before feeling a dip on the other side of the bed.

You sleepily turned your head to Michael who was staring at you through the mask. Having in the pajamas you provided for him. His hair was damp, seeing that he dried it with the towel instead of leaving it a dripping mess to make your sheets wet. You held your hand out with another tired yawn. Eyes not being able to stay open and sleep wanted to overtake you, but you’d like to see him before you go back to sleep. You turned your body so your face him as well. Michaels large hand took yours in a tight squeeze, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to be more gentle, instead, the tight hold made you feel at ease knowing he was there with you . Closing your eyes with a soft, “Good night, Michael.”

A rough grunt was your response, it was the last thing you heard before falling back asleep.

[tunastime]

ok ok?

Once again, Etho and Bdubs find themselves in the same predicament: navigating the complex relationships of their lives while trying to keep each other safe. However, unlike the times before, they have a little bit of a better understanding of each other. And a little more commitment to what they've made together. Or: like every time before, Etho and Bdubs have a conversation. This time, it feels good. (1584 words) (x)

The light sky is waning fast, the fringes of the horizon still orange with fading sunlight. In it, the small, deepslate keep is almost purple, the warmth of the day still held close in the humid river air and sun-warm ground. Inside, Tango is fast asleep. The sniffling breaths he takes are muffled slightly by the noise of nighttime: crickets and salmon and birds. Bdubs is among these noises as he lowers himself to the ground at the base of the keep, dropping his pack and resting against the cooling stone. He tips his head back, letting out a long, tired sigh through his teeth. 

Above him, as he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows, he can see the beginning pinpricks of stars. He hums to himself, reaching up, eclipsing for just a moment the spread of the planets and suns he’s learned so well from stargazing. The motion feels familiar, in its own, strange way. He stares up through his fingers before he drops his hand into his lap. Bdubs shuts his eyes, letting out another slow sigh.

From beside him, Etho clears his throat. Bdubs startles, immediately cracking an eye at him, shifting around to pretend like he hadn’t just jumped. Etho snorts.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, that familiar smile to his voice and a crinkle to his eyes. Bdubs blinks his eyes open, furrowing his eyebrows as he gives Etho a quick once over. He crinkles his nose.

“You gonna nag me again?” he asks. Etho huffs out a laugh.

“Me?” he grins. “Always.”

Bdubs sighs again, slumping back against the cold deepslate tile. He rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, wise guy,” he grumbles. Then he pats the grass beside him. His hand comes back slightly dirty. Etho laughs under his breath as Bdubs waves his hand, trying to shake off the dirt before he ungracefully smears his palm onto his pant leg. After a moment, Etho sinks down beside him, letting out his own, tired sigh in relief.

“How ya feelin’?” Bdubs asks, shifting his body ever so to face Etho better. He glances over at him. Etho glances back. He raises his eyebrows and, in the fading light, looks less tired than normal. Bdubs for a brief moment wonders if it’s his doing.

“Mm?” Etho hums. “Pretty good, all things considered.”

Bdubs nods.

“Good,” he says. “I’m excited we’re together again, y’know.”

Etho snorts. He raises his eyebrows in question.

“And Tango?”

Bdubs makes a face. Duh. “A’course.”

Etho laughs again softly.

“Me too,” he says, all pleased like Bdubs had said something he found funny. Bdubs likes that tone of voice a lot. It means only good things out of Etho. Which usually meant good things for Bdubs, too. 

They lapse into a silence then, both comfortable and apprehensive. Etho fiddles with his hands, the skin of his fingers, picking at the nail beds in a show of his bad habit. Bdubs wants to grab his hands and force him to stop, as much as he kind of wants to tell him to just ask whatever question he’s holding himself back from, but Etho rolls his shoulders and settles back against the tile and seems to relax, so for a quiet moment, Bdubs watches his eyes flutter shut, and sees the pale eyelashes against his face in the rising moonlight. His chest seizes for a moment. Then Etho hums out:

“‘M sorry I forgot that one time,” he says, almost muffled through the mask he’s still wearing. “Bout the dragon.”

Bdubs blinks. He almost asks, albeit stupidly, what dragon. There’s a moment where his mouth opens and closes as he tries to remember what in the world Etho could be talking about. Dragon. Dragon. When had he fought the Ender Dragon recently? Not Hermitcraft, not this season at least. Later than that? Why would he be bringing it up now if it were something from this world? Unless he means. 

Ah.

Of course, this train of thought for Bdubs lasts only a second. And it’s in that second that he finally stammers out:

“Oh, what?” and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Nah, Etho. Don’t—that was so long ago. Don’t you worry about that.”

“You’re not mad?” Etho asks, tilting his head over. His eyes open to peer at Bdubs. It feels like his pupil is consuming his iris, the way the dark brown and black of his good eye muddle together in the dark. It’s black like the night sky. His eyebrows furrow as he looks over Bdubs’ face. Bdubs snorts.

“Oh I was furious,” he finally says, tearing his eyes away from Etho’s face. Warmth crawls up the back of his neck. He stares at Etho’s unfolded hands, which have come to rest palm up on his knees. “But now? You think ol’ Bdubs carries grudges?”

He looks up at Etho again. Etho shrugs, looking away.

“Uh… yeah?”

Bdubs blanches.

“What! No—not with—” he stammers out. Etho pales even further, visibly swallowing. “Etho!”

‘What!” he squeaks out, spreading his hands, shoulders coming up to his ears. Bdubs swats at him, grumbling as he whacks fabric. 

“Not for you,” he huffs. Etho deflates a fraction—at least, his shoulders come down from the sides of his head. He tilts his head, eyebrows still raised questioningly.

“You sure?” he asks. Bdubs sighs.

“Yeah. Not anymore,” he says, folding his hands together, unfolding them, fidgeting with his fingers. For whatever reason, a prickle of nervousness stores away in his stomach, forcing him to swallow to try and push it around. He sighs, stretching out his hands. “We… we play these things differently. I know that now.”

Etho, from his peripheral, nods once.

“Oh…” he says, voice mellowing out. He sighs too. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Bdubs says. He reaches out after a beat, knocking his fist into Etho’s shoulder. Etho wobbles, eyes crinkling. “I missed hanging out with you.”

“You—” Etho wheezes, voice peaking suddenly in amusement. Any higher and they’ll really risk waking Tango. “You see me every day!”

“Well!” Bdubs huffs, folding his arms. “This is different!”

Etho shakes his head. The tufts of white hair being held back by his poorly tied headband come loose all at once. He sweeps them back unsuccessfully, scrunching up his face.

“I dunno Bdubs,” he argues, squinting at him. Bdubs rolls his eyes dramatically, hunkering down over his folded arms. “Feels a bit the same, don’t’cha think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Etho shrugs, relaxing again, leaning back against the cold stone. He finally tugs his mask down and off as he settles, turning his face from where it rests against the stone to give Bdubs a once-over. He smiles and it’s all slightly crooked teeth and sharp canines and wrinkling his nose. Bdubs’ lungs squeeze painfully. 

Maybe that’s the reason that he leans forward and grabs a fistful of Etho’s shirt. Maybe it’s the reason Etho’s hand ends up on his knee, then his thigh, then his hip as Bdubs kisses him. Maybe it’s the reason he feels Etho laugh against his mouth and kiss him again. And maybe it’s the reason that Bdubs rests his forehead against his, nose against his nose bridge, and sighs the most profound breath he has in a while. The air leaves his lungs and enters warm and humid. From this close, Bdubs can see the faint beauty marks on Etho’s cheek. He smooths his hand back up Etho’s collarbone to his shoulder, flattening out his high-neck shirt, keeping his hand under the lip of his coat, under fluff and wicking fabric.

“Let’s not do something stupid this time,” Bdubs says to the point of his nose. “Okay?”

“Like what?” Etho asks. His eyes flick up. For a moment, they’re far away, fixed on a spot far from Bdubs’ dark eyes. His expression softens like he’s remembering something far too painful. Bdubs squeezes his shoulder.

He’s never gonna get that blood off his hands, is he?

“Like stupid traps,” Bdubs finally says, forcing a smile. Etho’s eyes clear just a touch, and he pulls a face.

“I’ve never made a—” Etho pauses. Then he grins. “A stupid trap.”

Bdubs rolls his eyes. It’s in this moment that he pulls away, shaking his head as Etho giggles at him. He smothers the sound with his hands, peering over at Bdubs over his fingers. It takes everything in Bdubs not to swat at him again. His face is properly warm now.

Instead, he shuffles over and makes his home at the dip of Etho’s side. He folds his arms, huffs indignantly, and presses his cheek to his shoulder. Etho makes a small squeak. He relaxes, though, and lets Bdubs lie against him for a long moment. After that moment, however, he presses his cheek to his head and says:

“I’m not gonna let you fall asleep here.”

Bdubs grumbles.

“Fine,” he says. He lets Etho untangle himself from beside him, takes both his hands when he offers to help him stand. In the slowly building moonlight, Etho and Bdubs trudge into the small deepslate fort. Etho’s hand stays in his, warm and solid. Tango still rests soundly, sprawled out on one sleeping mat at the other side of the base, tail twitching ever so in his sleep. Bdubs sighs again as he lies down next to Etho. It takes a long time for his eyes to finally close.

At least he has him now. He doesn’t want to let him go any time soon.

[vidavalor]

The Hoff

I think that we've seen that very distinctive and unusual, capital F in Fell in the the note inside Aziraphale's copy of Modern Magic before...

What could explain that? 😊

Ok, so, first things first... to be clear: there really was a Professor Hoffman who published a book called Modern Magic. His real name was Angelo Lewis and, until its publication of Modern Magic in 1875, there wasn't really a major book in English that acted as a guidebook in for teaching aspiring magicians what they would need to know to be able to perform. It is seen as the first magic textbook, basically. So, the book really exists but this is where we have to talk about the apparent "autograph" that we were shown in 1941.

If you've ever had an author inscribe their book to you or received an autographed book as a gift, you probably have noticed that the author almost always signs the book on the title page or, if not that, on some other page on which there is type in the very early part of the book. They usually do not autograph books on the 1-2 blank pages of paper that are included at the start of most hardcover books... which is the spot where we can see that the note in Aziraphale's copy of Modern Magic is written. There are a couple of reasons why authors do not autograph those pages.

The first is that autographing one of the printed pages of the book helps to ensure that the author's signature stays with the book. If they sign a blank piece of paper at the start of the book, the signature can be more easily ripped out of the book and potentially used by someone for something illegal-- especially true of the pre-computer & cell phone eras but something which holds over into today. There is also that one of the reasons why the blank pages in the front of the book are included in the first place is to help keep the book clean in order to preserve it for longer, with the idea being that the blank pages can be removed if the book gets dirty over time from dust and dirt falling inside the cover.

The last reason, though, is the reason most relevant to what we're talking about here and that's that the blank pages are also meant to be a space for personal notes. Not just for something the reader might wish to jot down but for a message to the reader from the person who gifted them the book.

If you gift a book to someone, the tradition is that you write them a little note on the inside of the book. In a hardcover book, this is meant to be written somewhere on the blank pages. We are specifically shown Aziraphale opening his copy of Modern Magic to the very first, otherwise-blank page and reading the note that is the only other thing on the page, in the upper right hand corner.

Ok, you might say, but the note is written from Professor Hoffman and mentions Aziraphale being a 'wonderful student', so even though the unique and significant capital F's are a match... how could Crowley have written the note?

The note is actually signed The Hoff and there is already some wordplay in the 1941, Part 2 minisode in which Aziraphale uses that word while referencing Professor Hoffman on the surface but in such a way as to really be referring to Crowley.

Later on in 1941, when the two are drinking wine at the end of the minisode, their whole conversation is word-nerdy flirtation and Aziraphale responds to Crowley's inquiry as to how he got the photo back from Furfur with this line: "Who needs miracles when you've had private lessons from The Great Prof. Hoff. man himself?"

Here's where that Crowley-mentioned "tone of voice" from the start of 2.01 comes into play a bit...

In this post, we looked at how Aziraphale's emphasis in the "Prof. Hoff.man" sentence suggested he was using Professor Hoffman's name as wordplay to really be referring to Crowley. Prof, short for professor, is rooted in profess, which is to state something, while hoff is a Welsh term of endearment that means my dear and my beloved. (Some Welsh pet names in this show starring Michael Sheen? Couldn't be! 😂)

Used in that way? Prof. Hoff.man, spoken the way Aziraphale did in the wine scene in 1941, is actually referring to Crowley and calling him his dear (and deer) man and his beloved. It's "my dear" and "my love" but in Welsh. This, then, is Aziraphale referring to Crowley as his hoff... which is how the note in the Modern Magic book is signed.

Further emphasizing this are the other words being used in the wordplay in the same sentence that talks about private lessons from The Great Prof. Hoff.man.

The first is Aziraphale adding the adjective of great ahead of Prof. Hoff.man. In a couple of other posts, this word has come up already but to sum it up, great in their speak is dry use of the adjective used to describe The Great/Ineffable/Divine/Whatever Plan to describe their relationship or one another, instead. It basically means what we all know great to mean but with added humor within their speak being that it's blasphemous to use it that way in their supernatural world and that it comes from the root words related to to rub or to grind together. It also contains the word eat-- self-explanatory for the food-obsessed Crowley and Aziraphale.

In the Odegra scene in S1, in which basically all of Crowley's work presentation is in his and Aziraphale's vocabulary, he refers to the Biblical Great Beast on the surface which, in their vocabulary, they've actually jokingly made a phrase that refers to Aziraphale between them. When Maggie tells Crowley that he and Aziraphale don't say how they really feel, Maggie doesn't realize it but Crowley responds to her in his and Aziraphale's hidden vocabulary, because he's understandably a little put off. His response concludes with the deceptively simple summary of his and Aziraphale's relationship as a whole: "It's great."

In the Prof Hoff scene, Aziraphale refers to having had private lessons from "The Great Prof. Hoff.man" himself. If the wordplay in the scene has The Great Prof Hoff.man here being a reference to Crowley then so, too, are the private lessons. This is not to say that Aziraphale might have never taken magic lessons with Angelo Lewis aka Professor Hoffman. It's just to say that he is happily using Professor Hoffman's name here as wordplay to refer to Crowley in this moment. It's using Aziraphale's human magic as euphemistic for their romance, which also what The Bullet Catch and many other scenes have done. While private lessons manages to sound quite innuendo-y just on the surface alone, there's also some other layers that make it especially top shelf.

Lessons, in this case, are a mixed French-English phonetic joke-- they're les sins, or the sins. Crowley and Aziraphale don't see sex as sinful but referring to it that way with tongue firmly in cheek is their type of blasphemous humor, yeah? Even funnier is the fact that the French word for sin is peche, which also can refer to both a peach (so, a fruit, which also happens to be pretty uniformly euphemistic for an ass) and, even more amusingly, for the act of fishing.

Additionally, lesson comes from legere, which is the root of many words related to act of reading. Originally, the word lesson referred only to a reading aloud of The Bible. The word private in Aziraphale's sentence does just refer to a sense of privacy in the way that we know it but there are also the words it contains.

Besides the food-related ate, there is vate. The Latin word vates meant a prophet or a seer. By sometime prior to the 1600s, though, the word vate had splintered off from vates and had evolved to mean something that Crowley already canonically is-- a poet.

"Private lessons with The Great Prof. Hoff.man himself" on a wordplay level is really Aziraphale referring to romance and lovemaking with his dearly beloved poet.

Ok, so, we've established that Crowley can easily be The Hoff who wrote the note. Now, let's go back to the note written inside Aziraphale's copy of Modern Magic and look at the romance and humor of it being written the way it is if we're saying that it's written by Crowley and not by the Angelo Lewis version of Professor Hoffman.

Let's start with "a wonderful student." Here's the thing... you wouldn't need to be instructing Aziraphale on anything to refer to him that way. A student is a person who seeks to and works to gain knowledge and Aziraphale is constantly doing that. He is a curious, life-long learner, as we all should try to be, right? From knowing Aziraphale as the story shows us, all of us could say that Aziraphale is a wonderful student, could we not?

There's a sweet sense of humor in using the adjective wonderful in there as well. A person who is wonderful is full of wonder, which is to say that they are miraculous. They inspire pleasure, admiration, and a sense of delight. Synonyms for wonderful include other words associated with Mr. Fell and his magic-- amazing and marvelous.

So, let's say that Crowley bought Aziraphale his much-beloved copy of Professor Hoffman's Modern Magic and so is part of the reason why Aziraphale has a human magic act in the first place. He wanted to write a note to Aziraphale in the book but obviously could not write something that isn't a bit oblique because they're a secret. There is a very Crowley-esque humor in hiding that he is the author of the note by making what he wrote at the start of the book sound like a note written by the book's author.

Crowley signs the note "The Hoff" and there are actually additional meanings to that besides the Welsh term of endearment one we looked at above-- all of which are extremely Crowley.

Hof and Hoff are Old Norse words that evolved into Dutch and German to refer to, over time, a wide variety of buildings. Originally the word meant a hall and, at that time, that was less in the sense of a passageway between rooms inside a building and more any roof-covered building. It is still present a bit in what we call a couple of types of buildings (a town hall; a music hall, etc..).

Because the word comes from the Proto-Indo-European root words meaning to cover or to conceal, a hof or a hoff began to mean basically any kind of building covered by a roof-- including both a court (as in, a royal court), a temple, and a farmstead. It also began to mean anyone working any jobs associated with life beneath any of these roof-covered structures. From this also formed the term heathen hof, which referred to a Germanic pagan temple.

A hof or a hoff, then, is a roof-covered place of protection and concealment from the elements or someone occupied under one of those roof-covered places.

A hof or a hoff? Is a canopy...

But we're not at all done... Because of hoff relating to places like royal courts and farmsteads, it also evolved to mean the person who manages the domestic affairs of a household and the person whom a monarch or the owner of the building has given authority to represent them, to rule in their name and to guard their assets and reputation. The word that we use today to mean this derived away from hoff and came about in a messy way that involves so many language overlaps that people are honestly still kind of trying to fully puzzle it out and aren't entirely sure of the results. For quite a few centuries now, though, what was once referred to as a hoff-- in terms of people and not structures-- has been more commonly referred to as a steward.

A steward can be someone who keeps watch over a household and guards its inhabitants and one who can manage the affairs of an estate for the person who is, technically, that estate's owner.

A steward is also the officer on a ship who is in charge of meals and provisions. This also later applied to trains as well, once they were invented.

In fine dining, a wine steward, for example, is another name for a sommelier-- one who provides knowledge of wine and serves it.

It also refers to someone who oversees the social arrangements of a household.

The occupation of steward is also the root of surname Stewart and its alternate, French-originating spelling of Stuart. Stuart is also a first name for which Stu is a nickname and that nickname is one of the words contained in The Steward/Hoff's love note to Aziraphale: the stu within student. Also within student? The word den. Meanings include a dwelling for animals (a fox den), a recreational or study room in a house, and, especially applicable to Crowley and Aziraphale: a place in which people meet to engage in illicit activity in secret in order to evade detection.

So, within the letter Crowley signs The Hoff is the word student, which contains words referring to the role of a hoff/steward (stu) and the den he serves and protects in that role. It's clever. 😊

For some funny, food-related bonuses: the word steward also obviously contains stew and, depending on where you are in the world, the word hof today can evidently refer to either Carlsberg beer or a Korean-style bar or pub. In Danish, it also refers to a garden and, apparently, the history of hof referring to a royal court also led to an evolution of hof referring to admirers as a result of crossing over with the use of court as a verb-- as in, to court a person.

Fish stew. Anyway!

But you might be saying: but why not inscribe the book to Aziraphale? What's with the 'To Mr. Fell' and this weird capital F?

For that, we have to bring in two of the most romantic things you can think of: a little grammar and Hastur.

Just bear with me. 😂 It's worth it, I promise...

Back in S1, we had a bunch of scenes that illustrate that the demons are seen as a collective who all belong to Satan and are not to have any sense of autonomy that overrides that. It's best summed up by Hastur harassing Crowley through his tv by reminding him that, collectively, they are known as The Fallen and only their shared goals of servitude to their master, Satan, should be what matters:

When Crowley is in public and at risk of being overheard, he will speak that way about Hell, such as in the case of "Mozart's one of ours" or "was that one of yours or one of ours?" with regards to The Reign of Terror in 1.01. In this post, we already looked at how, on a hidden language level, Crowley is crafting those public sentences to Aziraphale to really work as being about the two of them on another level while sounding like they're about Hell on the surface level because, as we know, he does not actually wish to be part of The Fallen.

This is where the little bit of irregular verb grammar comes into play. It relates to tenses around the verb to fall. As most of us know, both the future tense and the present tenses of the verb to fall is fall. If it's a fall that has yet to happen, you use fall. As in: "She should be careful as she could fall out of that tree." If it's a fall that is currently happening, you also use fall, as you would say: "She is falling." It's when you start to talk about a fall that already happened that things get a little more complicated... and if you don't think Crowley and Aziraphale would find that relevant, may I direct you to them flirting by way of pretending to be confused over the irregular past tenses of the verb to smite in S2...

Fallen is the past participle tense of to fall. The simplest way to explain that for those who are grammar-averse and find this confusing (and it is confusing-- English is a nightmare lol) is that you use fallen as 'has fallen' or 'have fallen' to describe a fall that took place at an unspecified time in the past, as well as a fall that happened already but may still also be an ongoing thing.

For example: your friend might refuse your request that she climb a tree with you by saying something like: "No, thanks. I have fallen out of too many trees before." This indicates falls that happened to your friend in the past that are now over and done with but are just not being referred to in such a way as to reference a specific point in time. If your friend wanted to refer to a specific fall she had at a specific time, she would use fell, not fallen, and would say something like: "No, thanks. I fell out of a tree last Thursday and I'm still feeling it."

Meanwhile, though, you could be thinking about investing in a company, say, and, in researching the company, read a sentence like: "The stock price average has fallen x percent over the last x months." This indicates something that has taken place in the past-- the descent of the stock price average has already happened. However, fallen is being used because that falling stock price average might still also be ongoing, as it could keep falling. That is an example of using fallen to refer to a fall that happened in the past but is not necessarily seen as completely done and continues on.

How is this relevant, you ask?

Let's say that it's long ago and you're an angel who is in love with a demon who has for millennia been referred to by everyone in Heaven and Hell as one of The Fallen to a point that The Fallen is basically the closest thing he has to a surname. And let's say that you're creating a human identity for yourself and taking on a surname so you can live amongst them more directly. And let's say that you are well-aware of the fact that marrying this demon is not something at this time that seems like it would ever be possible for an endless list of reasons ranging from the fact that you're supernatural hereditary enemies to the fact that doing so would be illegal by human standards.

You don't like the term The Fallen because you feel it doesn't apply-- to your demon partner or to any of the demons, really. The past tense of to fall is fell. It's something that happened once, at a specific time in the past, as in: "He fell out of the tree." It's over and no longer relevant, unlike the way that Heaven and Hell use the phrase The Fallen to continuously demonize the demons. They refer to them that way to perpetuate the idea that they are forever "evil" and damned for it. Added into this is that to fall, as we know, is also a verb used to describe feeling romantic love, as the humans say that people fell in love. There's also that he calls you daily what you are-- an angel-- in a romantic way and you would like a way to refer to what he is in a loving way, instead of just the teasing, double-meaning way you sometimes use words like demon and fiend.

So, if you were this angel named, say, I don't know, Aziraphale lol... and you liked the human custom of a partner taking the surname of their spouse when they married and you were making up your own surname anyway for your human identity and you were very sure that you'd never be able to actually marry your demon partner so this was what you thought then was maybe the closest you'd ever get to being able to do that... the cleverest, most romantic surname you could actually choose for yourself that would be taking his name but in a positive, word-nerdy way that reflected the love of the two of you would be to name yourself Mr. Fell.

Aziraphale has been Mr. Fell for who knows how long because it is the proper verb tense for what happened to Crowley, it sounds enough like '-phale' that Heaven won't ever really put it together and he has an excuse there if they ever ask him why his alias sounds a little demonic and, most importantly, because he wanted to take that part of Crowley's "name." Why?

Because, like with most humans, Crowley didn't choose that surname and, as is the case for a lot of humans as well, the name has a negative history that he wishes it didn't. Crowley can choose to change his name and add to his name and he does-- Anthony Crowley and others are his own choice-- but he's stuck being tied to the "family" he came from-- The Fallen-- as there has never been a way to change that. To Aziraphale, taking on that name is the same as anyone marrying into a family with bad history and a terrible reputation because they love their good partner who is stuck in it. It's an act of commitment to that person.

Aziraphale tweaked it to Fell-- the correct use of the verb, a common human surname, and something that sounds enough like the end of his own first name that it acts as a bit of sleight of hand to keep most from noticing that his last name is just the frequently confused with fallen, other, past tense of to fall and that he took it as a way to take Crowley's name.

It also adds a whole other feeling to Aziraphale reading the note aloud to Crowley in the bookshop in 1941 and the part where he says "'To Mr. Fell'-- that's me!" with the little grin and wiggle.

Crowley inscribed the book 'To Mr. Fell' because that's their name. It's an equivalent of writing something like 'For my husband'...

Another clue to support this is the Crowley-and-Aziraphale-paralleling Mutt and his beloved spouse, as Mutt referred to them as. Beloved, as we said above, is one of the Welsh terms of endearment meanings of hoff. Mr. Fell is Aziraphale having taken Crowley's name like someone might of their spouse. Since its opening, the name of the bookshop has been A.Z. Fell & Co.. On one level, it is meant to look like A.Z. Fell is a variant of Aziraphale, likely to evade suspicion from Heaven. In reality? Aziraphale is just Mr. Fell from A to Z. Just Crowley's, from soup to nuts.

Adding some humor is also that a fellow, as we know, is a term for a man, or a person in the same position or group as someone else, or a person with whom someone is sharing the same activities, as well as member of a society of learning. To Mr. Fell, a wonderful student...

A fellow-- or the slang fella-- is also a boyfriend. Plus, the silly humor of fellow as fell- ow!. "But, my deer/dear fellow..."

So, Crowley wrote the inscription in the book as a note to Aziraphale that makes it look like it's an autograph from Professor Hoffman and the other hints to this lie in his distinctive capital F in Fell and the other word hidden in the signature.

If you look closely, you'll notice some things in the way that Crowley wrote The Hoff. The o in the word is actually made up of two letter o's linked together. Besides the whole hugs and kisses of x and o in writing and the rings aspect and the fact that he drew them in such a way to look heart-like, there's that this creates a new word hidden in hoff, which is hooff, which isn't a word but the word contained within it-- hoof-- sure is.

A hoof is the foot of any of three animals to which Crowley is frequently referred to as: a horse, an ox, or a deer. It's also slang for the human foot and, as to hoof it, for the act of walking, as well as sometimes slang for dancing.

The Crowley-and-Aziraphale penned title of Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth, which is a phrase meaning to live life. In the opening credits of every episode of Good Omens, Crowley and Aziraphale are shown living life together throughout history-- walking the Earth together. The same 1941 minisode that gave us this note that we're looking at gives us the love letters they wrote each other and published under Hell's nose as entries in Demon's Guide, furthering the suggestion of Crowley having written the note in the book.

Now, look at the distinctively-written letter F in Fell and in where we've seen that before in the 2008 minisode:

Crowley's signature on the form for his assignment to take Adam to the nuns in 2008 is him drawing with his index finger the same pattern he uses when writing with a pen to make the capital F in Fell.

Why does Crowley write it this way?

Because while the end result is that anyone not looking closely sees a cursive capital F, the way that Crowley writes that capital F is by using the pattern of a cursive capital L-- for love. If you look at it closely, you'll actually see both a L and a F overlapping as one letter in the word Fell in the note.

While I'm sure Aziraphale has no doubt as to what he was reading in Crowley's note in Modern Magic, if the 2008 minisode is any indication, Crowley has actually been using this Love F when writing his own signature-- both on Earth and in Hell-- for quite some time. Likely because while he loathes being part of The Fallen, he feels the exact opposite kind of way about Aziraphale having taken his name to a point that he wants to actually put Fell somewhere in his own name.

The result appears to be that he uses The Love F as both a purposefully kind of unintelligible signature when he signs for things in Hell... but also in the more readable signature of his name when he signs things on Earth. Why do I say in the human name, too? There's a hint to that in 1941-- back in the Part 1 of it.

I think Crowley makes their mark as the middle initial in his signature on Earth because I'm noticing here that this romantic Love F thing could be the explanation regarding confusion over a certain third capital letter... the letter J.

I now think it possible that Crowley didn't actually write a J on the document the Nazis saw. He wrote the romantic F for Fell that he writes to also look like a capital L, which got it mistaken by Mr. 'Betamax/Peter Max' Glozier for a capital J.

When Glozier said the J aloud, Crowley did use two words relating to he and Aziraphale in their speak-- just and really-- to try to explain what the letter was to Aziraphale but I'm not sure that Aziraphale heard it that way. Crowley also made it sound like he didn't want to clarify what he had really written. To be fair, saying "that Nazi thug mistook The Love F for a J" wouldn't have really worked in the moment but he also seemed squirmish about admitting to Aziraphale that he doesn't just use The Love F when writing him love letters but as part of his signature.

In Lockdown, Aziraphale appears to have written a note addressed to Anthony J. Crowley. So, either Crowley hadn't told Aziraphale by then that the J was The Love F, or they now have an in-joke from 1941 about Crowley's middle initial being J when they both know that it's not, or Crowley actually then went and came up with a middle name that begins with J after 1941.

Finally, there's the note in a gifted book that we didn't see in S2 but definitely heard about...

I have no doubt that Aziraphale has a first edition of S.W. Erdnase's Expert at the Card Table. I do doubt the next bit, though, wherein Aziraphale is pretty obviously lying his ass off. This is a now well-practiced version of 'those three kids are absolutely Job and Sitis' new children':

I would bet pretty heavily that Aziraphale's first edition of Expert at the Card Table has a 'To Mr. Fell'-style note in the inside that, when read, makes it look like it was autographed by the author but which is really a note that Crowley wrote to Aziraphale when he gifted him the book.

Aziraphale realized in the above scene that if he lets Mutt look at the book, Mutt is going to think that however Crowley signed the note was Erdnase's real name so Aziraphale just complete bullshitted the provenance of the book to cover up the fact that the autograph is a Crowley love note in order to bribe Mutt into coming to the party. 😂

This is also really why he won't give Mutt the book or let him try to buy it. It's beloved to him because of its magic importance, yes, but really also because Crowley gave it to him. The super-rare Doctor Who annual issue that Mr. Arnold was lusting after is something Aziraphale can part with (after all, he's sleeping with The Doctor so it's not really necessary). That was just one of the many rare items that Aziraphale does have in his shop and wasn't a present.

The copy of Expert at the Card Table, though? Aziraphale will never part with that.

Both books that Aziraphale has that we've mentioned here are first editions and, given their subject matter, Aziraphale would have wanted to get both books immediately after they were published. That means that Crowley bought Aziraphale Hoffman's Modern Magic in 1875 and Erdnase's Expert at the Card Table in 1902. For timeline context: He gave Aziraphale the copy of Modern Magic with the romantic note we've spent this meta looking at 13 years after the 1862 Holy Water argument. The gift of Expert at the Card Table was 27 years after that-- 40 years after the 1862 scene.

This, along with things like Aziraphale buying a dozen cases of Chateauneuf-de-Pape in 1921 "for special occasions" and Aziraphale and Crowley being in communication when Crowley bought The Bentley in the early 1930s all contribute to the idea that they had seen one another plenty between 1862 and 1941.

Crowley's faux-griping about Aziraphale's magic act is also made even cuter-- and more transparent lol-- by the fact that he's been gifting Aziraphale books about human magic for ages.

On a sadder note, it also adds another layer of horror to the bookshop fire. I think we all figured Crowley had bought Aziraphale books before but having seen one now and the love note in it and knowing there are a ton more makes Crowley standing in the middle of the shop with them all burning around him even worse.

On a cheerier note, remember Aziraphale reading books on magic (and plenty of other interesting stuff) during Lockdown? Perhaps some of the books were in the pile because Aziraphale was also going through them to re-read Crowley's love notes?

Finally, what do you think... it's a little different but... is that a Love F on his tie?

[mirensiart]

Wait the "Lorule-Hyrule soul bond is pain for literally just Legend and Ravio" combined with it spreading to the rest of the chain is so funny bc like imagine if after this they talk to Fable like "yeah, sharing pain sucks. I bet it's annoying for you too"

And she lets it slip that no, she and Hilda have telepathy

And now Warriors is frothing at the mouth because what do you MEAN they get telepathy that would've been so helpful actually but nooooooo Legend just has to get hurt and Ravio has to be angsty

Maybe if Ravio had a better childhood, then pain wouldn't be a common denominator and instead their connection would be about hoarding items like. Randomly in Legends head he gets the details of Ravios sales, and then Ravio one day gets like. A rundown of the specs of whatever magic item Legend has picked up from a chest this time.

Ok, but can you imagine having 8 guys' thoughts in your head all the time? That would be absolutely terrible lmaaaaaao

Imagine like you're Time and suddenly you get bombarded with these thoughts

"Ok, but what if I drop a bug in the stew, nobody will know, I've done it before and they didn't notice"

"Ah man, I wanna roll around in the dirt and sniff around, what if I turn into wolfie right now"

"I wonder if I give wolfie a hyoi pear I would be able to control him like a seagull???? Awww I wanna try that would be so sick"

"I swear to the goddesses if I come home and ravio sold one of my magic rods AGAIN I will start charging him double the rent"

"My zelda is so beautiful, so cute, I wanna kiss her pretty cute nose and hold her close and never let her go and oh I miss her so much, her beautiful golden hair and her pretty big eyes and—"

—insert jumbled unintelligible mashup of four's thoughts here, just a bunch of convos being constantly interrupted by the colors—

"If i turn into a fairy maybe i could snoop around the vet's bag, i bet he has some incredible magic items there"

"Ok so, if hypothetically an enemy were to attack right now, I could grab the sailor and the traveler and put them behind me in a second just in time to cover them with my shield...my shield that is right here, yes, and oh my dagger always have my dagger close. I can trust the old man to grab the others too, I know he's just a parano— no prepared PREPARED as I am, yes"

Time, thinking as loud as he can so it reaches everyone: PLEASE REMEMBER WE CAN ALL HEAR WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. also please don't add bugs to the stew champion, I'm watching you"

In another note lol ravio and legend having a sale/inventory bond is SO CUTE what the HELL

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

MDNI

Ok, for real this time.

CW: Sex/Sexual content, not feral twilight, but he’s almost there, light marking, breeding

Reader has feminine anatomy and no pronouns.

Not proofread!!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Spring was a very prominent season among Ordon. Sure, every season had its place in their ritualistic life. But given Ordon was a small farming village, the icey cold of winter and droughts of summer didn’t provide them with much. Hell— even the goats were cranky without fresh grass to gnaw on.

But the sun would, with time, melt the snow and nourish the land. Small flowers would poke up on the edges of pathways and riverbeds. The bank would crack as the sheets of ice splintered and gave way. The grounds would soften and absorb the first rain of many months.

Link had always loved spring. As a boy, he loved the warm sun on his skin as he picked away at fresh grass, splitting the blades and getting soft dirt under his fingernails. As he grew, the season proved to be enjoyable far beyond just its temperance. Laying largely in, of course, that his job of caring for a herd of goats relied primarily on their happiness. Spring was kind to him. The sun didn’t beat at his skin, the goats didn’t groan their discontent, the work was plentiful, but pleasant.

Only one true downside sprung to mind with the season of spring. He remembers being particularly younger -perhaps his first season working as a hand with the goats- and getting rammed by a particularly competitive ram. His chest and back had minor bruises, and his palms were scraped.

It was that year he learned there was a lot more to caring for a herd of animals than simply providing them what they needed.

‘One must adjust themselves’ Fado explained as he wrapped the scrapes, ‘To the animals, you are new. Not one of them. Competition to that ram, in his eyes.’ He chuckled heartily as Link explained that he was only trying to help feed them. ‘They ain’t smart enough to know that, kiddo. Don’t you worry yerself. Now run along, I have things handled.’

The years passed. He grew familiar with the herd and they grew familiar with him. He could pick out which were particularly moody, the others more friendly. He knew their waking and feeding times to the minute. He knew which were the most prone to being lame.

But most importantly related to avoiding injury, like that of his prior example, when they’d mate.

And though he never would admit it aloud to a single soul so long as he had dignity, the idea was captivating. The thought that someone could feel the primal need to fuck so badly that the world becomes irrelevant was one he’d often entertain on quieter nights, his lungs struggling to draw steady breath as his hands wrapped around his cock. There was something about that need to rut into somewhere soft and warm and fertile never failed to draw strangled whines from his throat.

But of course, that was before he had to actually tend to said urges.

That was before his soul was shattered and welded back together with something more beast than man.

He’d found, more often than not, that a rut was more annoying than anything else. He was constantly covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his body temperature being so elevated. Worked wonders for attracting attention as a bead of sweat would travel down the contours of his muscles. However, having consistently damp sheets because of it was so annoying he’d sleep on the couch most nights. The aggression was mostly annoying because it resulted in him cursing out the goats so often he was sure he looked utterly insane.

That was, of course, not even mentioning the sexual aggression.

The weeks dragged out and the temperatures raised up. And every single night Link would come home, take a shower, eat some dinner, and proceed to spend the rest of the evening with his hands between his legs. Occasionally a pillow would find its way between strong, plush thighs, his hips bucking and grinding pathetically at the sensation. But even after his hands, thighs, stomach and bed were stained with sticky cum, another wave of mind-numbing heat would roll over him.

Notably most annoying was there was no solution. Horny as he was, the beast would shove away any lover he tried to take in distaste. It craved something special. Something specific to sate his urges and carry his kin.

At first, he thought this to be a cruel and unusual curse from Hylia. Her way of forsaking her hero who was permanently ‘tainted’. It only seemed fitting when one considers the purity culture the church possesses. That it was something beyond simply shameful to tend to temptation.

But then he met you. You who was always different. Who both him and wolf pined for. Who had him tripping over himself for your affection. You who he didn’t care about the consequences. So long has he had you.

You who did not spit at him for who he was— what he was. You who loved him regardless. You who kissed his tattoos and markings. You who reassured him during his anxiety attack, that you weren’t ’too good for him’ that he truly was deserving of love either way.

So much had shifted since then, though nothing really had at all. The both of you both still split chores and cuddled at night. But now both hemispheres of his sentience could be satisfied knowing you were his. First as a lover who he could cuddle and kiss, someone to cherish until the end of his being. And second as a mate who he could protect and claim, someone to breed and carry his pups.

Not much changed as of genuine dynamics, but his outlook most certainly had.

Spring, familiar in the back of his mind, began to bloom. The snow melted off the fields, the life returning to the woods, his mind running wild at seeing any newly exposed skin.

To some extent he felt indecent. The man in him wanted to help you prepare for the festival, to caress your warm skin and pepper your cheeks with kisses. He wanted to enjoy life at your side. The wolfish, however, wanted nothing more than to pin you to the bed and fuck you senseless. To make new life as if his own was dependent on it. The civility instilled in him was mortified with the thoughts of the primal.

But that of course, made them no less present. Nor did it made his skin no less warm, or his jealousy less looming.

Ordon never really held large events, but the equinox of each season was mutually assured to be the time to go all in. Each family would show up with multiple dishes and drinks and the festivities would last long into the early hours of the day. It was your first time at the spring festival, the children presenting you with a flower crown and giddy grins. You both ate and drank your shares, laughing among the village. Just like any other family at the table… that was, excluding the lack of little ones.

Eventually, some of the more drunken began to sing and chant, the makeshift beat and music causing some to dance and sway. Link hung back as you were tugged into the crowd by Ilia. The fading sun caught your skin, dousing it in a radiance beyond mortality. He could hear your laughter amidst the voices, clear and crisp. You were divine, he decided. Not just perfect or stunning, but someone he’d devote himself to until he had nothing left to give.

He’s actually quite unsure on how long it was he sat there in admirance. He got more than a few comments on how utterly lovesick he was for you, but it didn’t matter. Not to him. Not now you were finally his. You came back, a smile lingering on your lips as you kissed him, your hand squeezing his shoulder with some sense of urgency.

“Are you alright?” His hand, rough from a life of nothing but work, cupped your jaw with such delicacy. His voice was hushed, not wishing to draw attention to you in the case something truly was wrong. You grabbed him by the collar, demanding him closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“I think it’s time we headed home.” And who was he to deny you? Especially not with the lilt in your voice, one that had him weak willed to your order.

He didn’t bother putting you down as he walked through the front door. He had you on the bed in seconds. He straddled your hips, a single strong hand pressing you to the mattress by the neck. His hands tugged sharply at your shirt, ripping away the fabric with a muttered promise for a new shirt. He immediately defended upon the skin, latching and sucking marks and bruises.

“Yer so fuckin’ stunning sugar” He whispered against your skin, kissing the hickey he just planted.

“All laid out f’me, huh?” His accent thickened, his teeth grazed against the fragile skin of your throat, pulling it taught in places.

“All yours, just for you” You managed to weakly affirm. He grinned, sharp and suggestive.

“All mine.” He nipped at your neck, his subconscious running crazy with the scent of your skin. Begging him once more to claim— to mark what’s his. Reverently, he kisses the lovebites he leaves. Some bleed, but his tongue travels along each ridge in the bite mark. He savours your blood on his tongue. It’s the finest drug, setting each half of his mind reeling and his own blood rushing. He travels to your perked nipples, suckling on them both in turns as his hand massages the other one.

“So good for me.” He lets his hand trail down to your thighs, pressing them open. He chuckles at how easily they spread apart. A fang drags lightly against your skin as he kissed right above your hips, directly on top of where your uterus would be.

“G’na look so pretty, all stuffed with my pups.” He looked up at you through his lashes, his hands tightening around your thighs with the look of need on your face.

“I’ll help ya’ darlin’ don’t you worry” He slid back, hooking a finger over your waistband and asking a slightly shaky “may I?”

“Please, Link I-“ His hands ripped through any clothes that separated his mouth from your cunt. His hands slid to your hips to pull them even closer to his face as he lapped away. A starving man would’ve been more civilised with their meal.

But as far as he was concerned, he was drinking the most intoxicating wine straight from the tap.

He payed no mind to your whines, nor did he slow as your thighs squeezed his head. He would occasionally dive up, his tongue toying with your clit. He lets your fingers thread hrough his hair, pulling him as close as possible before gushing into his maw. He revels in the pain of your knuckles tugging at your hair. He leans in closer, trying to drink you in even more. You tried to pull back to give him breathing room, only to be pulled back in by the hips. He licked your pussy clean, some cum still dripping down his chin. Your hips buck at the sight, a man so pussydrunk he could die of suffocation between your thighs and be happy. He gently traveled back up to kiss either of your cheeks and comb through your hair, massaging out the insides of your thighs as you resurfaced from your mind.

“Love?” He praised you in his tone alone, his forehead pressed against yours as he untangles himself from between your legs.

“Yes?” You open one half-lidded eye to see a beggar man, eyes full of such hope.

“C-Can I,-“ He didn’t need to say ask before you knew the question.

“Yes.” He’s careful, as of trying to convey to you in the motion of pressing your legs upward just how much he loves you.

Something in his eyes darkens the second he’d sunken inside your heat. He paused, letting you adjust to him and your muscles to relax.

“Fuck that greedy hole a’ yours fits me- so so well” He grumbles out, his chest rising and falling, as if staying still were truly a great effort to him. He bares his teeth, unnaturally sharp for one of his kind. His hips suddenly draw back and snap against your own, his length pushing against your cervix. He mumbles fragmented praises incoherently, slamming into you with an abusive pace, contrasted to the slow circling of your clit. His hand is so warm against your sensitive nerves, you want help but buck and wail in a desperate attempt to keep the stimulation as you get closer and closer to cumming. And you know you’re not alone— his grunts turning raspy the closer he himself gets to cumming, almost like a growl.

“Gna’ knock you up.” His hips buck out of time, but certainly no less fast. Your cunt flutters with the dizzying combination of sensations.

“You want that? My litter? Pups of our own?” Perhaps it was the near ferality in his tone that caused you to topple over. Or maybe it was his two fingers that curled around your clit. Even his cock nudging against your most sensitive bundle of nerves. He followed not too soon after, your silken walls squeezing around him must’ve been exactly the fix he’d been lusting after.

You both spent a few minutes curled up, catching your breath and letting your minds settle. You begin to shift, only to be met with a needy whine and arms around your abdomen.

“Nonono! Not yet- Please stay still” Link’s arms were loose, willing to let you go if that were your decree. You made no motion to move, much to his delight. He kneaded out any of your sore muscles and whispered praises into your hair as he played with it. Your eyelids began to flutter, sleep only staged off by his quiet whisper.

“Hey Darlin’?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

[luimagines]

You Reunite After Not Confessing Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Hyrule, Wild and Legend.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

Hyrule has been despondent. 

Granted, he didn’t think there would be anything to come from his feelings to begin with. He was always moving around and there was little he cold offer in return for their companionship.

His home, while beautiful, was deadly and lonesome. He didn’t think it would be an easy, or even fair, trade to ask them to come along and be with him. 

But maybe that wouldn’t have had to be the case? A small voice tells him that he could have just as well gone with them. He could live in their world. He could still be with them. They wouldn’t have to give up everything. But is he willing to leave behind everything he knew? Everything he fought for? Everything he loved?

He’s not so sure.

Not that it matters. Since you didn’t bother to look back, he wonders if you’re happy where you are. He hopes so. He had seen your home once or twice. It’s just as beautiful as his own home. Your house was small and quaint but lovely in its own right. It suited you.

He doubts it would suit him.

A normal life would simply have to be beyond his reach for as long as he lives, he supposes. Which isn’t anything new either. He had that idea long before he met you and it’s only been proven true now that you’re gone.

He sighs, picking up a stone and skipping over the dirt path. He used to do it with Wild and Twilight but he knows better than to get near water now that he’s back. It’s best to just keep inland.

He hears some stumbling and grabs the hilt of his sword out of instinct. The forest seemed quieter than usual, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t have tossed that stone.

“Hello?” You call out and Hyrule’s heart sinks.

Is it a mirage? Is someone playing a cruel trick? Hyrule takes out his sword anyway and moves toward the sound. He’s not sure if could hurt someone he cares about, but there was always that possibility. Warrior drilled it into his head more than once that it was possible and that should it come to a head, there should be no hesitation on his part.

He sees you and you looks scared. Then you turn and spot him and scream.

Hyrule lowers his sword. That’s not exactly the reaction he was expecting under either circumstance- whether you missed him or wanted him dead. He calls out your name inquisitively. “Is it really you?”

You gulp and run to him, throwing yourself into his arms and crying. “I can’t believe it! You’re here! I had no idea where I was!”

Hyrule hesitantly wraps his arms around you. “This is my home... How did you even get here?”

You gulp and pull back. You somehow manage to look guilty even through your tears. “...I walked through another portal.”

Hyrule gives you a deadpanned look. “Didn’t you learn from the last time?”

You sniffle. “But it brought me back to you.”

Have mercy on his heart- don’t torture him like this. Hyrule frowns and tries to not get his hopes up. “It’s dangerous here. We can’t stay.”

You nod and take his hand. He stops again and watches you. You seem more interested in his hand all of a sudden. “I missed you.”

“...I missed you too.” Hyrule takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“...”

“...”

“...I think I fell for you on that adventure.”

Hyrule trips over thin air and looks back to you. Shock couldn’t have been written more plainly on his face. You suddenly remember yourself and look away. “I’m sorry... I don’t....Well, I do- But I didn’t mean... I mean, I did mean- Oh dear... What’s wrong with me right now?”

Hyrule bite his lip, taking a chance by kissing your cheek. “It’s ok. I understand.”

You shut up instantly and look at him with wide eyes. 

“Come on.” Hyrule pulls you along gently. “We can catch up once we’re not out in the open, yeah?”

“...Ok...”

Wild

Wild was sure that he was going to be in trouble after this one. It was one thing to run off and explore like he was used to at this point- but now he was thoroughly- to put it nicely- screwed. He’s not even sure if the world shifted or if he fell through a portal he couldn’t see in time but Zelda was going to be pissed to say the least.

He had no signal, he couldn’t recognize where he was and to top it all off, he could see something interesting in the distance. He could hear the voice of many telling him to leave it alone already. There are bigger and more important things to worry about right now.

But he was so close. And it was right there.

He heads towards it. If anything, he can say that he’s simply incredible lost and deal with the consequences afterwards... again.

It felt nice to be doing something different though. Or rather, to travel again. After the adventure ended and he got over never telling you how he felt, there was so little to do. It was strange. He had gotten used to do one thing after the there, doing little things here and there with a bigger goal on the horizon, working towards that goal day after day- and now? Nothing.

He could relax, take it easy. His bones itched to do something exciting.

So a little peak at the mysterious form in the distance wouldn’t hurt anyone. Right?

He wished you were next to him right now. You would have joined him without a second thought. Zelda is nice enough to indulge him from time to time but she’s much rather to research in a study than climb the mountain for the hell of it.

As the form gets closer, he can see that it’s a camp site. Which is.. less exciting but doable. Maybe there’s people nearby and he can learn something about his predicament.

He looks around. There’s a hammock, a small tent and a fire going. There’s food cooking over it. It smells like it’s lacking something but then again, he doubts that everyone knows the ins and outs of scavenger feasting like he does.

“Excuse me! I spent a long time hunting that so if you would be so k...” You storm back into the camp, no doubt aware that’s he’s arrived. But once you actually see him you stop dead in your tracks, staring at him as if you’ve seen a ghost.

And he knows that he’s no better off.

You’re just as- no. You’re even prettier than he remembered you to be. He can feel his jaw hang open slightly and he gulps. “...H-hey...”

“...Link?” You whisper his name, unable to move forwards or backwards.

He smiles. His heart suddenly feels like bursting. He could cry. He might already be crying. “I missed you.”

You cover your mouth and run to him.

He catches you.

“I missed you too.”

“I have something...” Wild bites his tongue. It’s too early and much too late, but he’s already started. What the hell, he thinks, he might as well keep going. “I have something to tell you.”

“...What is it?” You sniffle, just as emotional as he is. You pull back slightly, loosening your hold on him just enough for you to look him in the eye.

Wild gulps and tucks your hair behind your ear. “...After traveling with you for all those months.... I fell in love with you...”

You gape at him before your lip wobbles and you hug him again. “I wish you said so earlier.”

“...Why?”

“Because I love you too.”

Legend

You think he would be used to heartbreak by now.

After you left and he found his way home again, he seemed to fool himself into thinking it was all a dream. If it wasn’t (and in his heart, he knew it wasn’t) then he might as well swallow the bitter pill of never seeing any one of them again.

Strangely, he might be able to live with never seeing any of the other heroes again. It’s just you that hurts him the most.

As before, he got used to being home again. He got used to feeling a dull ache in his heart and he got used to the silence of his house once more. Legend tried to keep the smile on his face. He really did. And some days were admittedly easier than others.

At the same time, Legend was also preparing the moment where his normality would be taken right from under him... again.

He had no reason to believe that the goddesses would consider his work to be done. If there was work to be done then it would have to be completed one way or another. Who better than the Hero of Legend to get the job done.

As luck would have it, he was correct in every facet. 

Legend was walking home one day when he felt, or rather saw, a rather familiar mode of transportation. He sighed and collected his things before he went through it, not even bothering to write a letter explaining his absence this time around. That might come around to bite him in the future, but he wasn’t about to let this moment pass by when he could do something about it.

Once he reached the other side, Legend put down his bag and start to take out his immediate items. His sword, his shield, magic dust and his amulets.

He started to walk along a beaten dirt path. This was a good sign... to a degree. People were here. So there should be an ending to this one way or another. 

He started whistling to himself to pass the time. It was something he found himself doing more and more often now that he was alone. He thought back to you because of it. You whistled all the time. How did that little song of yours go again?

He kept up your song, going over some parts over and over again because he couldn’t remember how to continue it. It wasn’t until something whistled back to him the correct notes that he felt his heart sink.

Legend reached behind him, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword and whistled again. 

It whistled back the next part of the song.

He continued on, walking towards the sound. Whoever was doing this was nearby. They had to be.

The thing is, they don’t reply with a whistle. Instead there was a beat of silence before they call out. “Legend?”

His heart stops in his chest. It’s you That’s your voice. He calls back to you in a similar manner, not wanting to get his hopes up.

You come out of your hiding place, slowly and hesitantly before you see him. You beam and charge, tackling him onto the ground in a hug. Before he can even reorient himself properly, you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

Legend’s eyes go wide and you pull back almost as quickly as you went in. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” He shouts and dives to capture your lips in another kiss. He pulls back with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long now!.... Why can’t all my welcomes be like this?”

You laugh and kiss his once more. “I’d hope to be one to do it though.”

“I’d hope you’d be my only.”

Part 3

[itsscromp]

just reader on a mission with their bros? (task force 141)❤️

Brothers in arms

Ahh, some good improv makes my brain very happy, thank you so much for this anon. Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Word count:1.3 K

Today was a mission day, After gathering as much intel on a terrorist organization, you and the others began to prepare for the mission. "How we looking y/n, all prepped up ??" Price came over and inspected the bags, rolling his shoulders.

"Nearly done captain" You were just beginning to fill in Gaz's bag.

"Good job, once you're done, grab something to eat and get some rest, we're leaving at 2000 hours, so it could be a long night." He patted your shoulder and began to prepare himself.

Soon 2000 hours came by as quickly as you could say so, Arriving at the tarmac, Price was putting the last-minute touches, gathering rifles and ammunition. "Glad for you to join us y/n" Price smiled and patted your back as you hopped in the helo.

"Price, Nikolai" You greeted them both.

"Comrade y/n, I was wondering when you would show up Солнечный свет (sunshine)

"what can I say, Can't miss all the fun"

Soon after you were joined in by Johnny, Plopping his butt down next to you, beaming smile as always. "Let's get ourselves a win yeah y/n ??"

"Hell yeah we will" You two sharing fist bumps.

Gaz was the next and finally Simon, You gave a respectful nod to them both as they jumped in the helo. Everyone was now gathered, focused and ready for the task at hand, Soon, Nikolai started the Helicopter and you were off.

"OK listen in, So here is the base" Price pulled out his tablet and showed a rough aerial view of the base. "y/n and Ghost you two take the north side and scope in from above. Soap, Gaz, You two take the south sides, I'll go in and cover the ground, once the threats have been neutralized, we need to disarm the bombs that are expected to roll in as well, Understood ??"

"Yes sir" You all said and then began the mission after landing at your destinations.

You and Ghost soon set up shop in the north, covering your snipers with mud and leaves so it didn't attract too much attention.

"You good ghost ??' You looked over.

"Good as I'll ever be Sergeant" You could tell their was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Soap, Gaz, how copy ??" You pressed the button on the walkie talkie.

"Copy y/n, We're all set up" Gaz said.

"Awesome"

And so you began your stakeout, looking through the sniper as you 4 patrolled the base and covered all grounds.

"Got 2 guards to the south and 3 on the west, Take em down captain ??"

"Negative, no suppressors which means you'll be spotted and they'll flee."

"Got it"

This was going to be a long night, Soon it was reaching 0000 hours, growing tired, You pulled a red bull can out of your backpack to help keep you awake.

"They aren't good for you sergeant" Simon smirked at you.

"Alright then dad" You smirked back after taking a sip.

Simon decided to lighten up the mood a bit and cure the boredom with his specialty.

"What has two legs and bleeds ??"He also pressed into the walkie-talkie for the others to hear. "Half a dog" He chuckled as you sighed disappointingly. "That was a good one"

"Did we ever ask Lt ??" Johnny smirked as he talked back.

"Alright, let's see you try better Johnny"

"Alright, What do you call a hunter without a nose or a body ??... No-body knows"

You snickered at that, Goddamn it. It even made Simon chuckle.

"Alright, I got one" You spoke up.

"what do you call a fish that wears a bow tie ??... Sofishticated" You snicker as you bang the dirt softly. You swore you caught Simon in a mild giggling fit as he heard that joke.

"Eyes up you 4, we've got movement in the Area" Price interuppted.

You and Simon scoped in and saw 3 trucks rolling in, They must be carrying the bombs, you continued to watch as the gates to the base were opened up and the trucks drove in. "Any visual captain ??"

"Looking" Price kept his eye out and saw them unpacking the bombs from the trucks. "Affirmative, Get ready to breach, Y/n, Soap, Gaz, on the ground with me. Ghost you stay up top and keep us out of trouble."

"With fucking pleasure" He smirked as he cocked his sniper, ready to go.

Soon the 4 gathered up and then began to sneak into the base, First things first, the guards. You, Johnny and Gaz took the three from the west while Price took the 2 in the south as quickly and quietly as possible.

With that... It was time to bring the noise. With a nod from Price, you tossed a flash grenade. As soon as it went off, you opened fire. Quickly as possible, you took down as many enemies as you could to safely get to the bombs. Gaz unfortunately got shot in the shoulder as you fell back and brought him to safety. "You ok ??"

"Just a scratch mate, Don't worry too much about me" He chuckled softly as you bandaged him up.

"Stay here ok ??" You said as you then went back out.

"Ghost, how are we looking ??" Price asked.

Simon was busy sniping from above, Getting any last enemy he could spot. "Getting there, Keep going"

You and Price nodded as you then began to fight off the last wave of enemies. One beginning to hand-to-hand combat with you. You almost had the upper hand, But he stole your knife and tackled you to the ground. With all your strength you tried to make sure the blade didn't touch you. But then when you thought it would be... You heard a shot fired, Johnny shot the enemy right in the head. Quickly rushing over to you and helping you up.

"You ok caraid ??" (Buddy)

"I'm ok, Thank you"

"Y/n, Get onto the bombs, quickly" Price ordered as you nodded.

Grabbing your kit, you began to slowly and carefully disarm the bombs one by one. Easy does it, You're doing great y/n. But when you thought you disarmed them all, You didn't take into account one having a remote switch. So as soon as you turned around, the bomb blasted, knocking you over and knocking you out.

"Y/N !!!" Price rushed to your side and gently picked you up, rushing you out of the site, Placing a hand on your chest. Still beating. Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, he then pressed the button on the walkie-talkie.

"This is bravo-0, We need exfil and medical" He held onto you.

"Copy that, Nikolai is on the way and medical will be waiting for you when you land." Laswell told him as she organized medical.

Nikolai soon returned and extracted the 4, going over slightly to grab simon as well.

"Y/n !!" Simon rushed in as he saw you unconscious, Cradling your body like you were fine china. "Are they okay ??"

"Just knocked unconscious sir" Gaz reassured him, Johnny and price could see the sheer panic in Simon's eyes, You were his best friend, If something happened to you... He wouldn't know what to do.

A few hours later:

You regained consciousness as you awoke to the beeping sounds and the bright lights, Grimacing at it all. But you were relieved as the lights were dimmed, Looking over to see Price.

"Hey kiddo, How are you feeling" He smiled softly, passing you a cup of water for you to sip.

"What happened ??" You said, your voice groggy.

"One of the bombs had a remote switch, We didn't even see it coming." He gently rubbed your forehead with his thumb.

"Is everyone ok ??" You looked at him worryingly, To which he gently nodded to the left, Looking over you saw Simon, Johnny and Gaz asleep in the chairs, they haven't left your side since you were admitted. You began to smile, This was your home, These were your brothers... This was your family.

Nothing would ever fucking change that.

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