#THEIR ACTUAL HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HAS ME BARKING LIKE A DOG

[armysethos]

chalkfisker barbie meme moments, mom come pick me up i’m being detained

[not-freyja]

New Zelda Game!

Okay cool, cool cool cool cool, I am calm, I am so fucking calm. Looks like Nintendo is staying true to their word that Wild is not getting another game, so now the questions are, what Link is this, where are we in the Timeline, and what information about the game itself can we pick out of these crumbs?

Whose Zelda is it anyway?

So two options:

New boy.

Legend. It’s fucking Legend again sucks to suck bro

Case for new Link and Zelda:

Less messy for the Lore

That’s it, that is the only argument

Case for Leggy boy and Fable:

LA animation style! While it can be fun to bring back older styles of animation for nostalgia/artistic reasons, that seems like a poor choice for *LOZ* games, which are always on the edge of what a game can do. Moving “backwards,” so to speak, in any aspect, would be a disservice to the franchise. However, doing it to maintain consistency for a particular character, and to use the animation style to make sure the audience knows this is the same character from LA is a very simple but effective tactic.

The map! So that shot was so BOTW and so fun, but the view we got wasn’t just recognizable as “Hyrule,” is was, down to the relative heights on the mountain cliffs against each other, the map from ALTTP/ALBW. Nintendo has never repeated a map without it being the same Link. So! Checkmate motherfuckers.

The character designs. That… that was just Legend and Fable, come on. Look at the dress. Every Zelda has a slightly different costume design, and that was hers. Look at Link. Baby boy!

I want this. Let me have it.

Timeline positioning

Okay so if we assume that this is in fact Legend, the next question becomes, “When is it?” Leggy boy currently has 5 games that are canonically his. (Triforce Heroes could be a random other Link, so while we like to say 6 we can’t *prove it.*) So. Let’s break it down.

ALTTP: canonically his first game, can’t be before this one.

Oracles: canonically happen after ALTTP, and he is very much still a child in here.

LA: the game this one is artistically modeled after. Narratively this fits nicely right after Oracles, and in the canon timeline, fits between Oracles and ALBW, so I think a whole new game being crowbarred prior to this one would be… not great for the narrative.

ALBW: This is trickier. No canon time between LA and ALBW is given, it could be a week, it could be years. It is entirely possible that Echoes of Wisdom occurs prior to ALBW, which would make it a direct sequel to LA, which makes the art style make even more sense. It could also be after?

…hang on a fucking minute, lets get the fucking map.

Left, ALTTP. Right, ALBW

Basically the same map! Duh, it’s the same Hyrule. But. BUT. Bottom right, in the lake. Do you see that?!

ALTTP: no log bridge. ALBW: Log bridge. Now, let’s look at the pretty picture from the EOW trailer.

NO FUCKING LOG BRIDGE!

This is before ALBW. Therefore, the game order for The Hero of Legend is

ALTTP, OOS, OOA, LA, EOW, ALBW, TH(maybe)

*cue manic laughter*

Lore Implications

Ganon.

There being a Ganon at all actually has me pointing my finger at the Oracle games and screaming. The TL;DR in those is that there was a plot to resurrect Ganon, each game Twinrova gets closer, but Link stops them. Now, there were also supposed to be three of those games, which means that it is entirely possible that the third unseen Oracle plot—please Nintendo let Link and Farore hang out, I am on my knees barking like a dog—could have resulted in his resurrection. This is the only explanation I have that doesn’t break the Lore or involve Time Shenanigans.

Also, Link does KO the bitch in that opening scene in the trailer. His presence is either just that—a set-up plot point—or him and Link are currently duking it out in the hole. Fun!

Link and Zelda

Now this game is going to put their relationship in the front in the “I have to save them because I love them” way that we usually see from Link’s POV.

Getting it from Zelda’s POV is going to be very interesting. We might be getting a look into her head, into her feelings and thoughts about the whole ordeal of the Legend itself. I hope so. But also, this isn’t just Link and Zelda, this is *Fable and Legend* specifically. The two that were meant to be be siblings but the dialogue that established them as such was cut from the final version of ALTTP. So. This game has the possibility to do three things

Canonize the Prince Legend thing, like they were going to do in the nineties.

Not address the topic at all, leave it nebulous.

Zelink.

None of these are bad choices, but option two is definitely the safest. Both options one and three will cause an uproar from part of the fan base. I can already see the ship wars. Please don’t do this people. Please.

The Holes 🕳️

What are they? Where did they come from? Ganon’s Trident Where do they go? No actually, where do they go? The Dark World (doesn’t make sense in the Lore)? Lorule (that would be a choice)? The Twilight Realm (I am convinced that Lorule and the Twilight Realm are the same place actually and you cannot change my mind)? Some new never seen before parallel dimension? A non-place, like a gap between realities (sexiest option)? I have no idea!

Fun!

That fucking “Fairy”

Tri? Don’t trust it. Will not trust it. Never trust that a companion in a LOZ game is what they first appear to be. Who does Nintendo take me for? A fucking amateur?!

Anyway, I am about 40% convinced that’s Link. I have evidence, but it is circumstantial.

I AM HANDLING THIS NORMALLY.

[kriscommitscrimes]

IN-DEPTH CHARACTER ANALYSIS OF KRIS(MAS) DREEMURR

Hello! I've wanted to make this post for a WHILE now, since Kris is my favourite character ever, and I LOVE analyzing characters!!

Anyway before I start just remember that people consume media differently, and this is just what I've personally picked up on. You may interpret certain points I make differently to me, and that's ok! I'm just sharing MY analysis of Kris, at the end of the day, they're a character who has never spoken any dialogue that's visible to us, so their intentions behind certain things could be interpreted differently depending on who's consuming the media.

Kris will be EXCLUSIVELY referred to by they/them (they/them/themself specifically) pronouns throughout this post. If you refer to them as anything other than they/them while interacting with this post I'm gonna block you on the spot sorry.

ANALYSIS BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S LONG!!! TW there's probably some swearing I can't remember

By the way, I'm not including any screenshots because I. forgot to take them last time I played through Deltarune, but the next time that I do, I'm going to make like a revamped version of this post with screenshots. Sorry about that!!

Kris is their own, separate character from the player. This is a no-brainer if you've actually played through Deltarune and paid the slightest bit of attention to it. Kris is their own, separate character with a VERY distinct, interesting personality, who had a life before the events of Deltarune, and even still has control over some things that they say and do while in our control.

Kris isn't actually a quiet person. Kris, in reality, is an overdramatic, sassy, talkative person who often draws attention to themself by scaring people (especially Noelle), and causing scenes. They CONSTANTLY play mean spirited pranks on Noelle or pressure her into things (I'm NOT talking about Snowgrave, I'll get to thar later), like shaking the ferris wheel carriage despite Noelle being scared of heights, and telling her that ICE-E is real and eats kids. They still do this during the events for Deltarune, like if you go against Noelle's wishes and pet the cheese, Kris strokes it like a cat, and if you give Noelle a healing item called a Choco Diamond, she says something along the lines of 'Umm, it's ok, Kris, I'll share', and both of them get healed. We don't choose for Kris to force Noelle to share, that's a decision they make. As for drawing attention to themself, the first thing that comes to mind is they falling to the ground and sulking when they're too short and weak to play Queen's arcade machine, or them barking at Noelle when she offers them a dog treat. They're loud and impulsive, shown when they eat the pie at the end of chapter one, repeatedly kicking the robot in the basement when nothing happens originally before the Sneo fight, eating all of the chocolate Undyne gives them to give to Alphys if you interact with the box, and screaming that they're normal if you call Toriel after watching her conversation with Alphys at the start of chapter two. Speaking of which...

Kris seems to have identity issues. This is one of the things here that everyone in the fandom is kind of already aware of, but this is a full character analysis, so it's still important to mention. Kris is the only human in Hometown, but desperately wants to be perceived as normal. They scream it at Toriel like I mentioned earlier, they wore a headband with red horns on it when they were little to look more like a boss monster, and they seem actively disgusting or even frightened by other humans. They also seem to be living in their brother's shadow a bit, which may be why they like drawing attention to themself. Everything I've said about their personality seems to be a little on the negative side so far, but everyone in Hometown knows their name, and seems to quite like them, so why is this? Well...

Kris is charming, well-spoken, and funny. They're a prankster known for pulling mean-spirited pranks on people, but even still characters like Noelle look back at those things fondly, and everyone in Hometown seems to like spending time with Kris. Kris' flirting abilities are pretty obvious, and are used to win over loads of Darkners, not to mention their ability to formulate a compelling speech on the spot, as shown during the first Queen battle when toasting to her. They easily win people over, especially if they like a person, I mean, they became best friends with their former bully in a DAY! A DAY!!! People seem to find them just genuinely fun to hang around, probably due to them just being a funny, charming, somewhat balls of the walls kinda person.

Kris is NOT evil or malicious. This is one of the most important points I've wanted to make on this post. I've seen the theory that Kris is evil because they don't actively do anything to prevent Snowgrave from happening tossed around and I'm here to say that that is actually fucking stupid sorry. Normally I HATE being mean about people's theories because, like I said, everyone consumes media differently, but that one is just genuinely terrible. I'd say it's WAY more likely that as Noelle gets strong, out control over Kris becomes stronger. Normally, when we choose an option to make Kris say or do something, they ELABORATE on that, which is confirmed by how characters interact with them. We just can't see them speaking to give the illusion that they're a blank slate, under our full control. But, during Snowgrave, they just say EXACTLY what you tell them to say. If you tell them to say 'We're something else', they just say 'We're something else'. If you tell them to say 'Proceed', they just say 'Proceed'. Sure, you could put this towards them not caring, but after Berdly is frozen and you reunite with Ralsei and Susie, both of them say that Kris looks HURT. And later on, they REFUSE to go and see Noelle in her room. The refuse to THINK about it. They're not happy with what happened. They didn't want to go around freezing people. But the one thing that Really stood out to me, was during the Snowgrave Spamton Neo fight. Near the end, you have the option to call Ralsei and Susie for help, which prompts the flavour text; 'Kris called for Susie and Ralsei... But nobody came'. After that, you have to call Noelle for help to finish the battle, which prompts the dialogue; 'You called for Noelle'. Spamton states that Kris could barely whisper her name. They're trying to stop you from calling for her. Those aren't their words. I think that kind of confirms that they didn't want Snowgrave to happen. Kris is just a funny teenager with identity issues, they're not evil. Sorry evil Kris fans.

Kris probably isn't the Roaring Knight. They're A knight, but not THE knight. So far, they don't REALLY have any motivation for opening the first two fountains that I'm aware of, and I doubt they knew they could open a fountain until Queen's speech at the end of Chapter 2. At the end of Chapter 2, however, they do seem to have a motivation to open a fountain. They (presumably) slash Toriel's tyres to stop her from leaving the house to go and get flour. They want her to see the Dark World. And if you choose the option to talk to Undyne about the Dark World, Kris explains it to her in FULL DETAIL, but she brushes it off as a joke. Toriel finding her tyres slashed leads her to call the guards, and Kris leaves the door of the house wide open. They want Undyne to see the Dark World, I don't know WHY, but they do for some reason. But I REALLY doubt they're the Roaring Knight, they just don't have the motivation, and if it is them, it would be really weird for Toby to reveal that so early. I really doubt that kid wants to bring on the end of the world.

That's all I have for now!! Expect a more fleshed out version of this next time I play Deltarune with screenshots and such, though I may wait until chapter 3 and 4 come out! Thanks for reading!

[romanceddawn]

concept that just occured to me: the slow puppification/sub-ification of jounouchi by yugi

it starts out by genuinely just caring for his friend and wanting to make sure jounouchi always eats and has someplace safe to go, so he's always inviting him over to eat dinner or lunch with them but sometimes its just the two of them together

jou hates not doing anything in return for the kindness though and always tries to do things around the house for him or help him out in some way while yugi's cooking or preparing food, so yugi jokes the food is his 'reward'. eventually, he notices just how happy and flustered jou gets from the concept and yugi's praises, which gives yugi the idea to do more

he starts exaggerating the praise a little, waiting a while for jou to get used to it before throwing some sly 'good boy's around and jou gets predictably flustered about these, but starts looking a little disappointed on the days yugi doesnt say it to him, so yugi ups his game a little to make him happy

he starts making the two of them a lot of finger food dinners in this time, something that he can pop up with after jounouchi helps him with something small and go "thank you jounouchi! you're such a good boy! here something to hold you over-" and feeds him bites of food like treats. jou realizes at some point this is not what Normal Friends do with each other but he loves it too much to care so he just happily eats from yugi's hand and will smile at him and say thank you like the good boy he is

yugi starts getting worse after this encouragement from jounouchi. he'll pet him while saying how fluffy jou is, he'll encourage jou to sit on the floor while yugi's on the couch to "fix their height difference", he'll make comments on how fun it would be to have matching collars, he'll make him do 'tricks' & say hes joking but feed him a treat, etc etc

then one day jou comes over when its just yugi home to find he made little cookies shaped like dog biscuits, and he goes on and on about how its a recipe safe for humans AND dogs, so they can both eat them! buuut if jounouchi wants one he'll have to show yugi what a cute pup he can be. hes so embarrassed but wants to be good for yugi, so he gets on his knees with his hands to the floor like a sitting dog, thinking that'd be enough but then yugi goes "okay, now speak!"

jou, shocked, is just like "uhhh, hello?"

"i said /speak/ puppy" and yugi just gives him this expectant look and smirk

jounouchi fights with himself for a full 5 minutes before barking for him finally and yugi calls him a good boy & feeds him the treat by hand, patting his hair and cooing over how cute he is as a puppy, saying he should just be yugi's perfect pup all the time!

jou finds he's not really opposed to that idea actually and if he starts wearing a matching collar with yugi and complains about his knees hurting more, well, their friends are just gonna pretend they dont notice but somehow arent surprised

[audinosaur]

the seijoh boys as littlest pet shop toys!

i scoured through toysisters.com to assign different lps' to all of seijoh and by golly i had fun while doing it

iwaizumi: pet #92

cool guy

reminds me of a german shepherd and iwa is the most german shepherd ever

he seems like he'd be an overall chill guy

tug o' war champion

i'm getting "average height guy whose friends constantly call him a short king just because they're taller than him" energy from it

and that's basically the majority of seijoh w iwaizumi

dependable

oikawa: pet #818 

she’s stunning she’s gorgeous she’s everything

him being an ostrich is funny to me

also the colors suit him really well, oikawa’s entire personality is very mint-colored

stars in his eyes

they have matching little sprouts of hair! <3

honorable mention: #1751 

this is the bitch that everyone type casted as the main character/mean girl when they played with their lps’ as a kid and all the other toys are in love w her 

yk what i mean

and that just seems very oikawa tooru

hanamaki: pet #460

look in its eyes. 

very fluffy 

they have the same pink hair (fur)

the curled eyelash/eyeliner is so funky and makki is the mayor of funktown

:3 face which is just so

do we all get what i'm trying to say?

matsukawa: pet #2270 

LOOK AT THE EYEBROWS

literally everything about him is perfect 

i cant even begin to describe it

a little scruffy & shaggy, its ears remind me of mattsun's hairstyle

imagine looking into the window of a pet store and seeing this thing (+ makki's) staring up at you. would u not be amused?

he's planning something

honorable mention: #1861

he’s got sneakers on??

swagged out lizard

no need for further elaboration

watari: pet #1026 

this is the one i am the most confident about and I personally feel like it's obvious why

friend shaped

bald

i could see watari being a ferret otter thingy

similar big round eyes that bore into your soul

this just feels so correct i love them

he smile :)

kyoutani: pet #135

yellow dog

it's so pudgy kyoutani would adore it

he’s the epitome of a grumpy bulldog

they have the same eyebrows (or lack thereof)

the little frowny mouth i am crying

secretly a sweetheart (i can feel it in my bones)

honorable mention: #2472 

lmao bee

yahaba: pet #1106 

no explanation but do u see the vision?

this is how oikawa views him. puppy dog eyes and all.

it simultaneously looks like both a rule follower and a conniving little shit (aka yahaba shigeru)

imagine this thing barking ferociously at kyoutani's lps

(meanwhile watari's is just standing off to the side watching)

honorable mention: #108

they have the same swoopy hair

it made me laugh ok

look at it

kindaichi: pet #1519 

tall!

idk what dog breed this is supposed to be exactly but all the ‘seijoh as dogs’ art i’ve seen has made him look vaguely like this

pointed up ears = pointed up hair

its tail looks very waggable and kindaichi is constantly wagging his metaphorical tail when he's happy so

kindaichi's so dogboy it's unreal

looks both cowardly and strong at the same time

kunimi: pet #2204 

this one also doesn’t rlly have an explanation

but the color palette suits him i think 

the cat looks like it take some nice ass naps and kunimi is our catnapping king

cold dead eyes of judgement

slightly bitchy

ppl come up to it expecting to pet it but it actually just hisses at them (an analogy for kunimi when interacting with most people)

in conclusion: a lot of dogs. i love aoba johsai.

[exoticalmonde]

Evealia x Mink (Dramatical Murder VN)

I don't know how cringe self-inserting yourself into games is at the moment but I am a reader AND a writer, so here is my DMMD self-insert (lacking art because my PC has been exploded for 3 months now and fate just doesn't want me to do my work).

With a small part of my self-ship fic that I have been unable to finish on time for my birthday. As a treat.

 I'm making mine under the pretext that Aoba has decided to be with Ren as the true ending. That actually leaves me with other people I could have experienced Over Tower with (or had an entirely different situation) and that other people is just Mink.

I'll refer to this OC in 3rd person with the name Eve, because it feels weird to say 'my' although it is 'my' in the sense of

At this point her AllMate is recycled Maine Coon, the size of a big dog (around 70cm of body height) but de-clawed. The previous models were meant as guard animals in a very popular fashion shop/show thing but many of them became susceptible to viruses and those viruses ultimately destroyed the feline population of these AllMates made them aggressive. Declawing was the first attempt to keep them despite the faults but since they would also have to alter their teeth/jaw, it was just easier (as they were a limited number) to get rid of them and get new ones. 

The way Eve managed to fix her AllMate was exchange parts from a scrapped dog AllMate, which is why he often shows puppy characteristics. Like randomly barking between meows.

Oh, where did she get the parts? She works at a repair shop as a clerk and knows this or that. She originally came from a different country, so getting instantly into robotics was her way to 'fit in' when in reality she sticks out aesthetically like a sore thumb in that world.

AllMate’s name is Noon because its serial code is N00N265 and they are not really fit for Rhyme battles, so that’s how she manages to avoid all the battles. They are ginger, of course, so the cat itself is a little bit insane, and despite the name being more feminine the cat has a deep masculine voice box.

Haha, Noon and Eve, get i- *Gets shot*

She lived in one of those apartments on the 14th floor on the main road and her room used to never have any light in it no matter the time of day. It made her really unhappy because she loves plants that bloom, but those don't last long in the shadows. After getting with Mink she's crazy for making the back of the house into a garden and once in a while he ends up minding something like... a pot of mint in his room because she needs it to be somewhere cozy until the leaves take root.

When she meets Mink the first reaction is to run, the second one is to be pathetic on the floor and because she’s a woman he hesitates for 0.00003 seconds, just long enough for her to kick him in the shin and run literally 4 meters before he catches up and the entire scenario of what happened there happens, we all know Mink's route.

Actually when it comes to other characters she’s not at all battle-ready and would rather run than fight, be it because she has never had to learn how to fight or because that primitive part of her brain clicks faster than 'I should defend myself'. So she'd probably be a good punching bag if she wasn't so pathetic and big doe-eyed teary-eyed.

Mink will pick up the name Eva eventually if it reminds him of his own gods (Eva is a goddess mother that brings life and destiny/death along with it, or a goddess of water and the earth) so he thinks that it’s okay if she carries that name as long as she honors the goddess. And Eve of course does so Mink doesn’t slap the spirit out of her in return.

Noon and Lulacan constantly fight.

Anyways, when he disappears for a while she is MAD, probably because she pops off at some point and says that he doesn’t deserve to die and should keep living so the memory of his people would remain and somehow through gaslighting and mental gymnastics and he recognizes the goddess’ name he decides to survive.

After they get together she is totally the type to think she’d get abandoned again and sleeps on the couch until she almost freezes over and dies from abandoned puppy syndrome although Noon is always with her and he’s a purring heat blanket draped over her at all times.

In their relationship while Mink is the brooding and 'actions speak louder than words' kind of quiet guy she is the FMA radio in the background, always talking to the cat, to Mink or to herself without really caring if he is listening and without trying to be interesting, just spilling all the information ever and if he doesn’t like it he can always move away into another room and she would never be mad.

He doesn't, but sometimes he has his ways to shut her up if he needs peace.

When Eve does want attention though she would sit in his feet like a dog, leaning against his knee and would do her thing until he gives up and asks what she wants. It’s usually to go on walkies or to be taught stuff or for him to talk nonsense to her instead.

She doesn't pick up on his job but she's a magpie and begins making the beads he uses instead. He doesn't allow her to sell any since the production is slow, but if he likes anything in particular he picks it up. He got her the tools to begin.

Also totally the person to think Mink would leave again and sit outside in the cold all by her stupid self, the only reason she survived abandoned puppy syndrome is because Noon laid on top of her and kept her warm on the couch.

Otherwise she's not jealous, even worryingly unmoved if other people say something in mild interest about her husband. Truth is, she gaslights herself into believing that it's stupid to think Mink would go back on his words. Does it in front of the bathroom mirror every evening.

She also brings flowers and trinkets she got throughout their first 5 years of being together for the memorial/gravesite and left them there without telling mink whenever something reminded her about a specific person Mink opened up about at some point.

Silly details people usually insert in their OCs information:

Date of Birth: August 5th

Age: 23 years old

Zodiac sign: Sun - Leo; Moon - Scorpio; Rising - Leo

Fav Food: Anything that has chicken and cream in it

Detested Food: Zucchini, Eggplant, Pumpkin, Melon, Animal innards (except liver)

Fav Animal: Jaguar/ Bird of Paradise

Fav Gem: Fire Opal

Fav Colours: Royal Red/Purple/Green

Character Base Colour: Blood Orange

Morning/Night person: Morning person

Also tea person, cat person, spirit animal is either fox or deer and I can't think of anything else, I am sqeezed dry.

[themusiichouse]

@automaton-otto

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"WOLFIE!"

Felix screams and bolts as the giant nine-tailed wolf, as tall as a one-story house, careens toward him, tongue lolling out impetuously, barking like a dog at the sight of a newfound friend. Sure, he knows the guy's his friend, but said guy has yet to figure out that the sight of a giant wolf as big as a T-rex charging toward someone is utterly terrifying, even when one is trying to have fun. Behind the giant wolf is Wilhelm, the tiny blond who stood no longer than 5'2" straining to keep up with the sprinting Wolfie on his comparatively tiny legs as he calls for him to come to a halt.

"Wolfie, how many times do you need to be told?" Wil cries as the chase through the forest clearing drags on. "Stop running at Felix!"

"It won't scare him anymore if I keep doing it!" Wolfie yelps, picking up the pace.

"At least I get my dogs not to run at him. How is it that you can't have that restraint when they can do it and they're not even sapient?"

Ahead of them, Felix stops running and pants for breath. Wolfie screeches to a halt as well and gives him a giant lick with a tongue as long as his arm, causing the poor man's black hair to drip with saliva.

"You know I hate that too, Wolf," Felix grumbles, wiping sticky droplets of dog drool off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"It's how a dire kitsune shows love," Wolfie says in a superior tone. "What's wrong with showing my love?"

"You can also show love to me by listening when I say what makes me uncomfortable," says Felix with a sigh.

"Might as well ask me to shrink to the size of a chihuahua every time I'm around you," Wolfie says.

"That…would actually be great, thank you."

The great wolf-fox gives a toss of his head.

"I mean I could. But then how would you ever get over your fear of big dogs? Maybe it would help if I was bigger. Not smaller. Like this!"

And then he does it. Instantaneously he shapeshifts, shooting up, and up, and up, until he's at least thirty feet taller.

Felix stares and gapes. Though he never swore, his face just screams "what the fuck."

"That's not fucking funny! And they say I'm the annoying one!" Wil shouts.

"You're right. It'd be funnier if I were bigger!"

And then Wolfie grows, and grows, and grows, until he's standing at least ten times his usual height--big enough to crush his companions with a step. Every cell in Felix's body wants to bolt at the sight. But he stares, transfixed in his terror, the sun having dimmed for him in the great wolf's shadow.

"Oh God," he mumbles as his legs give out from under him.

Wolfie cranes his neck down toward the miniature Felix, the breath from his nostrils enough to ruffle the man's hair like a breeze.

"What's wrong, hoomin?" he says. "You don't enjoy the view?"

Felix could do nothing more than just mumble out a few words of unintelligible gibberish.

"Shrink yourself down right now!" Wilhelm shouts. "Don't make me pull out the PREDATIONS / RELATIONS score on you!"

"So you can what? Drama queen your way into making me submit?" Wolfie sweeps Wilhelm to the ground with a brush from one of his tails.

"Don't make me send valkyries up there, either!" Wilhelm shouted, yet another challenge. "I swear--"

The loud whirr of a mechanical motor causes them all to look up. A machine that loud? In their forest where nobody lived? What in the world--

And then, whatever fear Felix had of Wolfie is replaced by his fear of the robot whose figure cut so magnificently, so grandly, so terribly above the skyline. It looks like the invention of a bygone era--but an era in a different world that had surpassed their own, with the huge jets coming out of its back and the enormous clunking feet. It's as tall as Wolfie was in his current size--and as its body turns around to reveal a head crowned like a Pharaoh's, the three seem to have attracted its attention.

"Ohhhhhh, what is that thing?" Wolfie says wondrously, his tails perking up as he leans in closer.

"It doesn't seem too friendly," Felix observes.

"Yeah, I'm getting major 'I could kill you and I probably want to' vibes from this one," Wil says.

"Just because it looks big and scary? You can't judge a book by its cover," Wolfie says. "I think I'm going to go say hi!"

Felix reaches out an arm in protest. "Wait--"

But it's no use. The wolf-fox goes bounding off, knocking over trees and trampling undergrowth as though he wants to expand the clearing in his wake, streaking toward the killer automaton with the exuberance and lack of restraint of an untrained 1-year-old lab as both Felix and Wilhelm pelt after him. Already they feel as though they're falling further and further behind, left in the flattened grass and shattered forest that Wollfie leaves behind like a tsunami's sweeping tide. But they don't have to run very far to recognize a threat. So eagerly does he charge down this that he hardly even notices one of the automaton's arms raising and pulling back, ready to launch an attack.

"SHIT!" Wilhelm screams.

[starstruckpurpledragon]

Some stores will have a fancy fake mattress hooked up to a computer that you can lay on to test what kind of mattress will be right for you. It's not gonna be perfect, but odds are it will do a good job pointing you in the right direction of what type of mattress you want. Then go lay on the mattresses on display that fit that type. Lay for several minutes, get a good feel for it, ignore the voice in the back of your head that feels ridiculous for laying on the mattress in front of the entire store. Your fine. They've got pillows out and pillow cover sheets out for exactly this reason.

Are you a side sleeper? Make sure that's how you lay on the mattress while testing it out. Back sleeper? Front sleeper? Lay on the floor display mattresses exactly like you would going to sleep.

If you can afford to get a cheap - or free, some places will do free with certain mattress sales - adjustable base, I highly recommend doing so. They're great for back pain, for snoring or otherwise having difficulty breathing at night, for propping you up when you're sick, for reading, watching tv, snuggling with your pet(s), propping your leg(s) up when it hurts, having under bed lighting to turn on when you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night... and sometimes even the cheap ones will have a vibrate function that will make your pets think the bed has been possessed by a demon. (Never has my dog jumped off the bed so fast as when I first tested that out. She's used to it now, but if she knew what making the sign of the cross was for she'd have done so towards the bed that first time and barked about foul fiends getting behind her.)

Another good idea is to read up on different types of mattresses before you head to the store. If you know what kind of mattress you've already got is and what the problems you have with it are, you can usually determine ahead of time whether you want to switch to a different mattress type or not. I knew going in the last time I went mattress hunting that I wanted a hybrid and the funky machine that tests what kind of mattress would be best for you agreed with me on that point. Between the mattress I got and sleeping at a slight incline thanks the to the super cheap adjustable base I got on sale not too long after, my back pain is pretty much all gone. (Take that scoliosis.)

That said, if you go with a regular base, consider how tall your bedframe is before buying a new boxspring. A frame that already sits tall might go better with a four inch boxspring than an average sized one so that it doesn't give too much extra height to the mattress on top of it. But if you have a frame that's low to the ground, you might get a slightly taller than average boxspring so that you can sit down on the bed without falling six inches in the process. It's a lot of measuring to do beforehand but it's worth it. But make sure you actually need a new boxspring before buying one - you'll be covering that new mattress in a protector and fitted sheet most likely, does it really need to be matchy matchy with a boxspring if you've already got a serviceable one?

And if you do go with an adjustable base, some bed frames can be converted to work with an adjustable base. Others very much cannot. Make sure you know which it is first so that you aren't disappointed upon realizing that the motorized components underneath mean there's no space for the frame's built in drawers. (I was lucky my frame needed very little adjustment to allow the adjustable base to sit comfortable inside it; not having built in drawers was a good choice.)

adults of tumblr how on earth do you decide on what mattress you want to order

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth x Eric for the ship meme!

Come Together || Accepting Stealing Hearts || Eric Brandon

~ send me a ship ~

Rate: NOTP | Ew | Nah | Alright | Cute | I LOVE them | They are perfect | OTP | THEY ARE MY BEAUTIFUL, SWEET CHILDREN AND I SHALL PROTECT THEM AS THEIR MOTHER

Who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon? The whole bed affair is a complicated one. She glances at it, and then to Eric. "Uhm." He nods and says he knows and begs-bargains Murphy down off the spot, though he does have to resort to treats. Eventually they curl up. Relish the warmth of the other. There's space, Beth is very aware of this, and even now isn't sure where to put herself, but it seems like Murphy has other ideas. He jumps up on the other side of her and wriggles ~inch by inch~ until she has no choice but to nest back-to chest, with Eric. "Hi," he murmurs into her hair. "Hi," she whispers back. His arms are long enough or maybe Beth is just that small that he can hold her and still pet the dog. {Eric is the big spoon, Beth is the medium spoon, Murphy is the small one} Adult!Verse heights "Oh for goodness sake," she murmurs, hopping up and down in front of the closet. The frustration seems to summon Eric from the balcony, and when he asks, she waves frustrated hands in an interpretive dance to explain: "One of Auntie's maids or butler or wha'evah put my hat on the top ~stop laughing!~ shelf. Eric comes to her rescue and barely has to lean forward to bring it down for her. It has nothing to do with the foot of height difference between them ~six-something versus five foot~ and everything maybe in wanting to brush against her. To add insult to injury, he holds the hat hostage for a kiss. { Eric is 6ft0 and Beth is 5ft flat} Who falls asleep while watching romcoms? While being an Art Historian and curator serving museums all over Europe is a gruelling job and one that takes Eric away more often than Beth would admit to liking. By Contrast, when he is home, Beth works at least eight, normally twelve, and sometimes up to sixteen or eighteen hours at a single shift. And when they manage to have time to watch silly little movies that do not require immense effort or concentration? Eric drapes the blanket over her as she dozes on the far end of the couch, her feet in his lap, midway through the set up. {Beth typically falls asleep during most movies, as it's usually the only time she's still long enough} Who suggests watching romcoms? "I pick dinnah, so you pick da movie," she says, handing him the remote. He gives her a measured stare for a few minutes. She can't tell exactly what or why he's doing it but there's something sharp to the scrutiny. Then he nods and flashes her a smile. "I've got the perfect one." He logs into his account and pulls up the menu while she divides the fried rice and honey-walnut shrimp.

She doesn't catch the name of it, but who doesn't like Cary Grant, Grace Kelly, and Alfred Hitchcock? {Technically To Catch A Thief isn't exactly a romcom but it is. But it isn't. But is. Also Eric and Beth are egalitarian enough to trade opportunities.} Who makes all the decisions?

Beth crawls fingernail by fingernail across the bedroom carpet while Eric valiantly tries to stop her a: by grabbing at her ankles, and b: trying not to touch the one leg lest she actually become angry at him. Meanwhile Murphy adds to the chaos of play by barking and dancing around the pair of them. It's been over an hour and Beth has actually forgotten what it is that got all of this started. Her competitive streak has been engaged and she is bound and determined to win. So in a surprising display, she turns and flops onto her back, the foot of the leg that is off-limits grazing the inside of his thigh into Dangerous Territory as she narrows her eyes as seductively as possible. "You could give up now, an' mebbe I won' be so hard on ya..." Eric's own smile is absolutely the Devil. "Funny, I can't say the same." {I literally cannot provide any more context than this.} Who carries the other one to bed when they fell asleep on the couch? One of the skills that Beth doesn't mention that comes from being a nurse is the ability to transport a patient by hand with no gurney or help up to and including two-to-three times heavier than her own body-weight. It isn't comfortable or pretty for anyone involved and there has been a time or two she's thrown out her back doing so. But it doesn't mean she can't. Standing there after coming home from a late shift, she watches Eric sleep. He's fallen asleep waiting up for her as evidenced by the once chilled wine and two glasses on the table that have gone untouched. Like this, there's a soft innocence to his face and she wonders if he's as enamoured of her the times he's caught her like this as she is right now. She isn't going to wake him, or move him on her own. Instead she carefully removes her scrubs and folds them. Puts them on the table next to the Cabernet. Then she lifts carefully tucks herself beside him, pulling the knitted afghan over them both. {Clearly this one goes to Eric, for the above reasons}

Who proposes?

Whenever the topic comes up, she shies away from it. They might pass by a bridal boutique and he tells her she'd look lovely in creamy Irish lace, or how those flowers in that window there would compliment her. They've attended a few weddings now together to wish her coworkers good luck but she never tries to catch the bouquet, or seems to care if he's missed catching the garter belt. It isn't because she thinks he's 'damaged goods' or that the Church frowns upon divorced people getting married. She stays quietly. She is making a life with him, isn't she? But she never uses the L word. Nor does she mention being a wife. {If Eric and Beth were to get married, it would be a marathon to talk her into it, and he'd have to be the one intent on it.}

Will they have a big wedding? She did once say that she always imagined a sea-side wedding when she was little. She wanted the customs of her Kanaka, invoking sea and sky and the ʻāina. She explains the meaning behind the Oli chants, but doesn't sing them for him. She tells him of blowing the Pu, a conch shell. She talks about leis. And then her eyes get misty, the spring green of them darkening to a sort of amber hue. The laugh that comes then is one edged as sharp and inwardly turned as any knife could be. She changes the subject and doesn't talk about it again. {Even if she was enthusiastic and went wild, there would be maybe five total people attending the wedding on her side, so the size really would depend on whether or not Eric has 10-1000 friends he could whip up.} Who accidentally eats all the popcorn while sharing a box? She licks her finger tips. And if it weren't horribly uncouth, she might lick Eric's lips as well, before smiling apologetically. She hadn't realised she'd eaten the entire batch of hurricane-popcorn almost by herself. "F'give me, f' I promise to make anoddah batch?" {For someone who is so small and who eats so very little, Beth will ABSOLUTELY destroy popcorn, especially if it's Island Style}

Who pays for dates?

"No, I insist." And really, she is. Beth does not exactly know what's in her bank accounts, she has people for that. They handle things like bills and receipts and report once a year in tedious meetings that she really doesn't pay attention to like she should. She could go absolutely insane and still not spend half her trust in a single lifetime. And maybe, just maybe, she doesn't believe she's worth going through the trouble for. So Eric agrees. But then he picks up the next check. {Beth will insist on paying for anything she can, but if Eric fusses, she'll give in. I think they end up splitting everything fairly evenly}

Who’s the most romantic?

"Oh, dey absolutely beautiful," Beth says with her closed lip smile. She isn't lying, the flowers and the arrangement are gorgeous. There's a hint of a blush in her cheeks and when she looks at him, her eyes glow like starlight. These were ordinary, no special occasion flowers, made even more sweet by the fact that he's soaking from the rain that he didn't strictly speaking have to go out into just to bring them by. "Come in, let me get ya towel, some tea t' ward off a cold."

{Eric is probably the more romantic one, though Beth is pretty sappy.}

Random headcanon

Some of Beth's favourite memories of their trip to Ireland was watching the sunrise on the beach, wearing one of his sweaters. There was something different about him while they were there, something relaxed and stress free that she doesn't see often in their day to day lives. She's planning another trip to surprise him with on their upcoming anniversary.

[whatisshelties]

Mud had less liquid poop yesterday and solid poop today so he did go to the trial. Ngl I was concerned on Saturday about leaving him home with my grandmother and an upset stomach.

So the crating situation was…not ideal. Location was a recently sold Christian camp and crating was in one building to prevent line of sight issues. This was our local obedience club’s first show and with the site sold, I hope this doesn’t reflect too badly on the club. We won’t be reusing the site. Anyway, the Novice got quite loud. I had Mud inside yesterday morning. Mom had to run into town to get more hospitality supplies because they forgot the club’s hospitality supplies. So she was gone when I decided I wanted to put him in the car. Since we were volunteering, we got to park near the search areas. (Club did shuttle folks to and from their cars on golf carts.) Today I left him in the car. Advanced was much quieter, so not bad for waiting inside.

Mud Qd Interior and Exterior yesterday. In both he checked out the (stuffed/tug) toy distraction and then went to work on his own. Yay! They were run one after the other and then had to wait awhile before they had us do Containers and Buried which didn’t go as well. Containers I saw him located the hot containers and walk right by. He was not committing to an alert and wanted to critter. He eventually told me about one. Then we were going around for the next one and I had suspicions about one, but he started really fussing with another container and I decided to call that. Nope. My suspect container was right, lol. Then Buried was tough. It was set in a P shape, and the three totes across the top of the P had wind blowing right over them. So like went out and got in the odor plume (I think, lol), started to hit on the first tote he came back to, then went for the next one and committed. Wrong. It was the third one, but he got stuck in pooling odor. 😭 It’s ok. That’s not something he’s had much experience with since I haven’t broken out then show standard buried stuff, lol. I think the barking in the morning got to him, plus this was an extremely distracting environment. We were out in the woods, so critter smells galore. Very easy to just redirect onto that when frustrated/stressed. Also he was still a little yucky GI wise. So some excuses, lol. Plus just not stuff he has the skills for yet. Thinking we need some more field trips with containers.

Today he Qd 3/4, only missing a super tough Exterior search that only 3 teams Qd! I suspect we were dealing with converging hides, which from what I understand is typically not intentionally tested until upper levels, lol. Mud went in the vicinity of second hide twice, but didn’t show any interest in it. I have no idea if our futzing at the start had anything to do with it. He didn’t want to go though the start cones. 🙃 I am wondering if he had an idea where the hide was, but the “correction” of needing to be majorly handled through the start turned him off. I feel like that’s not as likely because I think he would at least show some interest in ANY odor. He was major stuck in swirling odor (or something) and kept climbing the walls. I knew this was futile, since there’s a 36” limit, but I had no idea what to do since I took him toward the location of the second hide twice with no reaction, only reaction in this swirling odor. The hide was also in the same location as yesterday on a different object. I’m not skilled in two days of trials so I also thought “they certainly wouldn’t use the same location twice.” Apparently not. Both hides were on the same plane. Hell, they may have even been at similar heights. And we were in a channel between two sets of buildings. Just really tough, though it sounded like a lot of handlers/dogs had a hard time with the hide Mud actually found, lol. (Maybe Mud actually WAS turned off that hide by the being practically forced through the start and off odor.)

He was still meh about containers. It was in the same location, same set up. He actually did indicate this time, but man, he wasn’t even giving me hints before. We also got the 30 second warning, lol. Buried went better than the day before though I didn’t trust my dog at first. 😭 Our instructor was a mean judge today and used a tennis ball for the distraction. Mud’s ultimate toy distraction. So he of course focused on it at the startline and I restricted his leash before he could get to it and just tried to walked towards the totes without pulling him. He did eventually go to work and decided to indicate on the first hide which had me like lol idk man, bc he can pull that out when he is thinking about something else. So I asked him to check some other totes first and it hurt me a little to do that. He found the other hide and I let him work his way back to the first tote and he indicated again, so I took it this time and he was right.

He’s been doing really good with his class work, but I am not sure I expected to Q all his runs anyway (though I always hope for it to happen!) It’s always a bit of a bummer/frustration to NQ, but I made sure to learn from the mistakes and be more patient the next day. I’ll certainly be practicing hides set like today’s Exterior, both in the object it is placed on and the set up. I’m also fine with not breezing through Advanced because he still has so many skills that need to be refined and added and experience gained. We are entered one day next weekend. Then I’m not sure there is much other than a double trial of just Containers in May until the fall. So we’ll be in Advanced for awhile. I also realized today that we have only been learning this sport for maybe 18 mo? I trained my first agility dog for a year before entering a competition. We started competing last March after just a 6 week class months prior and a train along with Sara Bruske. Still so much to learn.

[accultant]

Iago looks to their brother, then back at one of the many trees that fill the grounds they live on now. He nudges them forward and they obey with a slight stumble in that direction. “You brought me out here to climb a tree,” they say flatly, not even bothering to look at Puck's puppy dog eyes for confirmation. 

They're starting to get his point, they think. It isn't right that Iago is so discomforted by simply existing out in the world. They don't think they've ever really felt comfortable or welcomed, but it wasn't always this bad. At some point, locking themselves away became easier. Safer. They had completely forgotten how to live without four walls around them. 

Even when they escaped for some time, when they still actually had the naïve hope of freedom, the isolation clung to them. They'd rarely go outside. Every interaction felt wrong, every person they passed on the street a threat. Paranoia and the feeling of being wholly out of place was so strong that it stole the air from their lungs in fits of panic every time they spent a few minutes too long out of whatever room they designated their safe haven.

It's very sad, when they think about it. 

Partially fueled by spite and frustration with themselves, Iago takes the constricting blanket from around their shoulders and tosses it over Puck before walking to one of the trees.

Hm. 

They assess it for a moment before moving to another. Then another.

It's the third one that wins them over, looking the most properly climb-able. 

They spare a quick glance back at Puck before getting to work. 

It has been quite some time since Iago has climbed a tree, but only a handful of years since they were adept at climbing through windows and scaling walls for any number of ( mostly ) petty teenage crimes. A handful a years somehow still felt like a lifetime ago. For a moment, Iago feels unbelievably weary and old for someone hardly in their twenties, preparing to scale a tree. 

At least their body remembers the motions well enough when they start to climb. 

“I never understood a fear of heights,” they make idle conversation. They've been doing that so much more since they arrived here, even though it often leaves them with a tired and sore throat at the end of the day. Silence never bothered them before, but they've been given more room to think than they've had in years and not a single Bhaalist was around to listen in - save for occasionally Birdie or Sceleritas. But they didn’t usually last stay long. 

“There are plenty of other fears I understand.” There are so many things that scare Iago.

“And I know, logically-” They lift themselves higher even though their arms are growing tired embarrassingly early into their climb. “That I don't wish to fall and I’m risking the chance of that.” 

The bark scratches at the un-calloused skin on their hands, but they ignore it. They've gotten into a bit of a rhythm now. “But that's caution, not fear.” 

Their breath makes frosty puffs in the air as they try to both talk and climb at the same time. They look back down at Puck, just to make sure he's still there. They probably look a bit silly. Or a lot silly. 

“I think it's nice,” They continue, hauling themselves up and over a branch to sit on, catching their breath against the trunk. The cold air makes their face sting as they look around. They're not too far up- they lack the strength to easily scale above the treetops, but they're high enough to get a different perspective. A nice view, even though it's mostly of other branches. There's a slight twinkling quality to the frosty leaves that haven't fallen yet. It's pretty. 

“There. I climbed a tree,” they call back down to Puck, their voice a little shaky from exertion, cheeks flushed from the cold. “Was it as impressive as you hoped?” 

They snap off a small twig and flick it down at him, aiming to bounce it off the top of his head. “Do I look very adventurous and cool when I'm not behind a desk?” 

       HE  WISHES  HE  COULD  ANSWER  their first question. Wishes he could form a single sentence. But one thing that's nice, if a little bittersweet, is that Iago actually talks to him more often now. About things they never used to talk about, too. 

       ( When ？He thinks again, When did they stop talking to me entirely ？)

Puck has always liked listening to Iago talk. He likes listening to people talk in general, but especially his twin. Maybe it is only to fill the heavy silence that his own voice, an undoubtedly harsh & arrogant sound, would have occupied but he is glad to hear them speak again. 

He is glad to hear them crunch leaves & snow beneath their boots again, too ; it is a comforting sound. 

Puck nods along to their story. He remembers that. Remembers being afraid. His protective instincts kicked in before they even climbed up the tree. He’d told them it wasn’t safe. Tried to catch them when they fell. 

He just barely missed because a voice whispered in his head, startling him enough to give him a slight pause. It told him to let them fall. It told him that he wanted them to fall.

He carried them all the way back, out of brotherly duty & a twinge of guilt. He’d never told them that one before. He thinks he’d like to tell them now. He’d like to apologize. 

Puck cranes his neck up to look at the trees around them. Some of them were big enough to climb. Not too tall to be concerning but he will catch them this time if they’re clumsy enough to fall. It's not the same as an apology, but it is better than nothing. 

Not that he wants them to climb a tree just so he can catch them if they just so happen to fall & feel better about himself. He genuinely thinks it would do them some good to get their palms scratched up by some bark.

He nudges Iago in the direction of one of the trees. �� Tree. Now. ❞

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.3

Summary: Penny goes to Walter's loft, so he could help her out with some school assignments

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Walter and I agreed that he would pick me up from the train station nearby and when I near the vacant parking lot, I can already see him waiting in his truck. He holds up his hand, a sign that he saw me too and I hurry towards the enormous vehicle. I barely see trucks this large here in New York, making me assume he actually brought this with him from Minnesota. Maybe he even moved here with this thing, the trunk stuffed with his belongings.

Though I highly believe this man actually didn’t bring a lot of stuff with him. He doesn’t seem like the type to be very materialistic.

When I open the door, I can’t possibly hide my smile.

Of course I thought about this for awhile (it’s all I thought about the entire class) and debated whether or not this would be a good idea. While this is definitely not a great idea, it doesn’t feel weird or scary. I mean, my mom certainly wouldn’t approve of this and I think my dad would have a stroke if he found out what I was doing.

Is this how people get murdered? Am I too naive?

I don’t think so. I trust Walter. He is a nice man and I’ve been with him alone in his office two times now. That wasn’t scary, he isn’t giving me bad vibes.

Going to his loft shouldn’t be that much different.

‘How were your classes, Penny?’ Walter asks.

A scoff leaves my lips. ‘It was horrid,’ I mumble, placing my backpack in-between my legs. ‘Professor Carter really likes hearing himself speak.’

‘That,’ he says, starting his car, ‘is true. I hate that guy.’

I chuckle. ‘Hate is such a strong word,’ I tell him. ‘I’d like to say he is simply hard to like.’

Walter smiles. ‘Of course.’

I fumble my thumbs as they are placed on my lap, taking in a breath. I’m really nervous, which is completely unnecessary. I feel safe around Walter, I feel noticed around him. It’s nice being noticed, especially by someone like Walter.

‘I didn’t know if you want something,’ Walter says, ‘so I got you some chocolate and cookies. If you don’t like that, please tell me. I can make a small detour to the grocery store.’

‘No, chocolate and cookies are perfect.’ I run my fingers through my hair, as Walter soars over the roads. His driving style fits him perfectly. He is impatient, quick and breaks abruptly, instead of slowly, a complete one eighty compared to my driving style. ‘You’re not gonna kill me, right?’

Walter starts to laugh and it’s the first time I actually see him putting his guard completely down. His eyes are smaller, the little crowfeet appear near them. ‘Of course not. I would lose my only student with sense.’

I lean back against the seat, as I watch how we get deeper into the city. I’m usually never in this part of town. I look to the side, admiring Walter’s beautifully sculptured face. The beard kinda hides it, but I know that his face is close to perfection.

‘You’re staring,’ he says, his eyes not once leaving the road.

Oh dear, I totally am. How incredibly rude of me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I quickly apologize.

‘It’s not a problem. Kinda cute actually.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You always stare in class,’ he says. ‘When things get a little gore, you start to blink really fast, you scrunch up your nose and try to stare at your fingers, but you don’t want to be rude and miss something, so you look up again. Only this time you’re squinting and you make a pretty poor attempt of hiding your disgust.’

‘Wow,’ I chuckle. ‘That’s specific.’

‘Noticing the smallest details is important in my line of work. Tell me what I do during class.’

I swallow as I try to think about everything he does in class. ‘You never look at people when you call out their name. It usually takes around a second or two, before you tear your gaze away from whatever you’re looking at. You are quite insulting when it comes to stupid answers.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You either scoff or roll your eyes,’ I note. ‘Besides, you always look bored, even when someone makes a good point.’

‘That’s because I am,’ he retorts.

‘Teaching really isn’t your thing, is it?’

He snickers. ‘Oh no. You could say I hate it with a passion. But if I do this, I could one day maybe work in the force again. It’s just a little in between jobs.’

‘You miss it, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he answers. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever missed something that much.’

‘You miss Minnesota?’

He shakes his head. ‘I mean, a little of course, but New York is great too.’

‘Are you married? Or do you have someone?’ I ask.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I haven’t met her yet,’ he says. ‘Besides, I’m picky. You got a boyfriend?’

I can’t even stop my laughter. ‘No, of course not,’ I answer. ‘There is no one that likes me anyways.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he says in a pretty harsh tone. ‘You’re a lovely girl and any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend.’

My cheeks burn up. ‘You think so?’

‘I know so, Penny. Let me tell you this: you are amazing, smart and the guy you end up with is gonna be one lucky man, since you’re probably out of his league anyway.’

He really thinks so?

Walter parks his car in the parking garage underneath the apartment building and he tells me to wait, as he gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the door for me.

‘I can open my own door, you know?’

‘I know,’ he chuckles, gesturing to hand over my bag. ‘But I couldn’t do it back at the station, so humor me for a second, okay?’

‘Of course.’ I grab his hand and he helps me out the car. Together we walk towards the elevator and I nervously roll my ankle, as we wait for the elevator to arrive at the right floor.

It abruptly stops and we walk out towards his door. He pushes it open, telling me to go in first.

His loft meets up to the expectations I had. Boring. Nearly empty. Only decorated with the necessities. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘This is exactly what I thought it would be.’

Walter hangs his coat over the back of the chair. ‘Is that so?’

I let the material of my own jacket slide off my shoulders. ‘Mhm, you have very little taste.’

‘I’d like to call it minimalistic,’ he retorts, as he takes my jacket from me hands. He tells me to sit and relax, while he makes us some tea.

I carefully take place on his couch, looking around me. Thankfully he removed all the eventual crime scene photos, files or anything related to the gory side of police work.

‘Here you go.’

‘Thank you,’ I say to Walter as he sits next to me, placing the tea on the coffee table. The couch cushion I’m sitting on, slightly dips to the right as he takes place. I have to tighten all my non existent muscles to not slide towards him, however I am not very strong, nor fit, so I bump against his side. ‘Sorry,’ I say.

‘It’s okay. Tell me, what are subjects that you struggle with.’

‘Everything,’ I admit.

He smiles. ‘Then I shall help you with everything.’

✎ ✎ ✎

My brain hurts from all the things Walter says to me and the way he answers all my questions. It’s so sweet and considerate of him to literally minimize everything to a level I could understand it. I take off my glasses as I rub my eyes. Walter has placed his arm on the armrest, our bodies closer than I’ve ever been to someone who I thought was attractive.

‘This isn’t working,’ Walter says, when it’s obvious I’m not registering anything anymore. ‘You need a break.’ He places my laptop and papers on the coffee table and stands up. He ushers me to follow him and I nearly run after him, since he’s taking such large strides.

‘Where are we going?’

He slides open the doors that lead to a little balcony. It’s just as boring as the rest of his place, but the view on the other hand is absolutely lovely. I walk towards the balustrade, holding the cold metal as I look over the city.

‘Wow,’ I say, ‘this is so beautiful.’

He smiles as he stands next to me. ‘It sure is.’

‘I’ve never saw the city like this,’ I say.

‘Where you’re from originally?’

‘Maryland,’ I answer. ‘But New York is really fun as well. Maybe even more so, if I’m being honest.’

‘I’ve never been there,’ Walter says, placing his underarms on the balustrade, so we’re around the same height. He looks to the side, at the same time the wind blows. He chuckles, when strands of my hair slap him across the face.

‘Sorry,’ I smile, as I try to contain the wild hairs.

He holds out his hand, pushing back a strand behind my ear. ‘That’s okay, Penny. You like it out here?’

‘Yes, I really do. It’s nice to take a bit of a breather. I’m sorry I am not really getting it.’

‘No, don’t be silly,’ he says, ‘you’re doing great. It’s my teaching skills that are lacking.’

I bite my lip as I take in his entire face. He is so close, just like he was back in the living room. He placed his arm on the backrest of the couch, his body so close near mine, that I could smell his lovely cologne.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he softly admits, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear.

‘Oh,’ I whisper, slightly taken aback, ‘really?’

‘Really. You have your phone with you?’

I pull it out of my back pocket. ‘Yes, why?’

‘Allow me to memorize this moment for you.’

It’s a slightly odd request, but I give him the phone and he takes a few pictures of me. For some reason, I don’t feel awkward. Usually I take pictures by myself or I let my mom take one, but that’s only the case when she wants to make a picture for her friends to show me off.

With Walter behind the camera, I’m relaxed and not so nervous.

Which is strange. I keep forgetting he is my professor. With his head, he nods me over and I look over his arm to the phone screen. ‘They look good,’ I say.

‘Not just good,’ he says. ‘You look amazing.’

He hands me back my phone and at the same time, a slightly cold breeze causes me to tense up and shiver a bit. ‘You cold?’

‘A little,’ I admit.

‘Wait here.’

Walter walks back inside, leaving me be for a little while. I look over the city. The cars, the different type of houses. Dogs barking, young kids laughing and just people having fun in general.

‘Here you go,’ Walter says, ‘I got you a sweater and some tea.’

I look over my shoulder, to see him placing two steaming mugs of tea on the tiny table and indeed a thick sweater (one of his own) in his hands. ‘You’re really going out of your way for me,’ I admit. ‘That’s nice.’

He frowns. ‘No one’s ever gone out of their way for you before?’

I shake my head.

‘Let me be the first then.’ He actually helps me into the sweater and gently pulls out my hairs from the sweater.

I take place on the slightly uncomfortable chair. It’s a bit windy, but not unpleasant. Especially not when I’m wearing a sweater this warm.

‘What are you thinking?’ I ask Walter.

He shrugs. ‘Just something crossed my mind, but I don’t want to intrude.’

‘You could never. If someone is intruding, then it’s totally me. I mean, I literally am at your place, because school’s too hard for me. Seriously, you can ask me anything you want.’

‘When did you find out you were placed at the church?’

I wrap my fingers around my mug and say: ‘My mom always said that I was a special delivery from the stork. I knew I was adopted, but I never thought more of it. My parents were simply my parents, even though they didn’t look like me. One day a kid in my class thought it was stupid I had white parents, when I clearly wasn’t, I realized it maybe was a bit weird. So I asked them about it and they told me the entire story.’

‘Must’ve been hard,’ Walter says.

I shrug. ‘Kinda.’

‘Does it bother you to this day? In your day to day life?’

These are very intense questions. He really does want to get to know me better, right? ‘You kinda carry it with you all the time,’ I say. ‘Oh no, I’m gonna cry.’ I blink my eyes fast, as I try to redirect both my feelings and his attention. ‘This is stupid, I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, no,’ he says, in such a soft and caring tone, that it almost makes me cry a little more. When was the last time someone was this caring about me outside my family? ‘Don’t apologize for your feelings.’

It just doesn’t match. His uninterested appearance versus this hidden caring nature of his. He leans forward and places his hand on my knee. A simple gesture, enough however to stop my heart from working. ‘I’ll try,’ I say, wiping the tears from my cheeks. ‘I promise.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After the well needed break, I was in the right mindset and managed to get a lot of work done. Turns out: I’m not stupid, I’m just a bit slow from time to time. Having someone that helps me, gives me a better understanding of it all.

‘You know,’ I say, as I pack my stuff in my bag, ‘your hair is quite dry and frizzy.’

‘Is it?’ Walter asks with a chuckle. ‘You have some nerves, young lady, to tell me my hair is frizzy after I helped you out.’

‘Just want to give you a bit of advice in return,’ I snicker.

‘Well, since you want to go to cosmetology school so badly, you tell me next week what products I need to use and I’ll be your test subject, how about that?’

He wants to see me again? Or does he mean after school? Or simply through texts?

‘Really?’

‘Of course, Penny.’

‘Thank you again for helping me out,’ I say. ‘I know this isn’t exactly in your job description.’

‘I’m happy to help, if it’s in my job description or not.’ He grabs my coat and helps me in it. ‘You want a lift?’

I shake my head. ‘It’s still light outside and I can go by bus. I need to do some groceries anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I am sure,’ I say. ‘Really, it’s not a big deal.’

‘Just share your location with me, okay? I want to make sure you’re back safe.’

Walter is such a caring and loving man, though he tries to hide it underneath all that grumpiness.

‘Okay, will do,’ I say, after I put on my shoes. I place my bag on the floor, grab my phone and start sharing my location with him for the next four hours. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him, when I push my phone in my back pocket and the two of us lock eyes.

‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘I just really got to know you. That was nice.’

I smile. ‘It totally was,’ I say. ‘I’d like to get to know you a bit more next time.’

Next time? I’m really suggesting a next time?

Walter barely responds to it, only a small cocking of his eyebrow. ‘Next time,’ he says. ‘You’ll get to know plenty about me.’ He takes a step forward, only for me to be able to smell his cologne. Gosh, what does one say right now?

While I’m contemplating the best topics, Walter seemed to have no issue coming up with something. ‘You’re staring again,’ he notes.

‘No, I’m not,’ I say to him, way too quickly. ‘Okay, maybe I was.’

You have to ask me again later on how exactly, but somehow my back is pressed against the wall. Walter places his hand on my cheek, his calloused thumb brushing over my parted lips. I don’t know where to look, but my gaze stops at his kissable looking lips.

His body is pressed against mine and two slow seconds passes before I feel his lips on mine.

What is this? Is he truly kissing me? I can’t believe this. My first kiss. I hold onto his thick sweater, my fingers wrapping tightly on the fabric, almost solely because my knees start to wobble like crazy. It’s the first time I felt someone’s lips on mine. Someone’s beard scratching my chin. Never before did I feel someone’s tongue carefully over my bottom lip. He cages me in between his thick arms. He is so much more overpowering, dominant, but boy, is it a role that suits him so well.

Much to my dismay, he pulls back to flash me a tiny smile. ‘I’ve been thinking about doing this for quite some time now today.’

‘Why?’ I ask him.

He smiles. ‘Just because,’ he says.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking about it too,’ I whisper.

‘What stopped you from doing it?’

‘You’re my professor, Walter.’

He nods. ‘I know. That should’ve stopped me,’ he admits.

‘No, no,’ I say, placing my hands on both sides of his face. ‘Don’t let it stop you. Please don’t.’ It sounds slightly needy, but I can’t help it. It’s the first time in my entire life I feel this alive. With his understanding, I notice finally the ability for me to figure out who I am as a person. However, those words stay close to my heart. I bite my bottom lip and he interprets it as an invitation and I’m so thankful he does.

The kiss is less soft than the previous one, far more intense. I don’t want to stop kissing him. His lips part from mine, evading his way to my nape to press wet kisses on the delicate skin. My fingers run through his hair. ‘Walter,’ I say and he looks up. I always notice the shift in gazes when he is with me. So much softer, gentle and caring than he is in class or with others. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Sure about what?’

‘Me?’

A crooked smile appears on his lips. ‘I’ve never been so sure.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Once I got home, realization truly hit. I just kissed my professor.

Was it smart? No.

Will I do it again? Probably.

Oh my, I’m falling for him, aren’t I? I had this insanely goofy grin on my face as I sat in the bus, did my groceries and went to my dorm. I bet I looked like a moron, but I couldn’t help myself. Walter’s lips on mine felt so good.

Those lips will be all I am going to think about. I take off my coat, only to realize I’m still wearing his sweater. It smells like him, his wonderful cologne.

I’m this deep in thoughts and little dreams, that I yelp when I hear a text coming in.

Walter: You’re home safe, right?

Oh, that’s right. I was sharing my location with him.

Me: Yes, I just walked in

Walter: Did you lock your door?

Me: Yes

Walter: Okay good

Me: Thanks for your help btw

Walter: Of course, not a problem

Me: I think I’m gonna go get ready for bed

Walter: Alright, princess

Walter: Good night

✎ ✎ ✎

[neko-naruto]

Dumbassery

Summary: Barks a werebear, and he bites Bean after the dynamite agitates him enough, Nack has to deal with both of them because of this.

Tagging: @authorleaandres

Warnings: Biting, light blood, nothing more actually.

Barks a werebear, this has become a problem very suddenly and with no apparent reason tonight for Team Hooligan.

So here we are, with a very confused weasel, an over excited dynamite and a basically brainless werebear.

A loud high pitched noise came from Bean before Nack could do anything to stop the duck, he was already climbing Bark like a jungle gym. The overly fluffy bear doesn't seem to mind instead he sits down on his haunches, hands between his knees, sitting much like a dog instead.

"Hey Bark, Bark, Barky Barkity-!" Bean said, repeating over and over until the beast turned to look at the duck who practically squealed at the sudden attention, unware he was going down the wrong path.

"Bean, I don't think you should do that." Nack said, Bean waved it off before tossing a warning bomb that gave a weak explosion, Nack just barely dodged, the sudden sound making Bark freeze up and rear back, fight or flight instinct activated.

"Oh relax Nickity Nack, Bark would never hurt little old me, right big guy?" Bean asked, raising his hand in mock scouts honor, only to be greeted with his arm being bit, tearing skin and causing blood to rush, Bean nearly screamed as Bark released his arm, playing it off as a mistake as he trotted on down.

"Chaos be damned, Bean are you ok?" Nack asked as he rushed up to Bean who waved it off with a sputter before going to say he was, cut off by a sudden spark of pain across his skin.

He released a short squawk before buckling to the ground, clutching his head as his feathers grew out rapidly, red bandana compressing enough to stay evident but tight around his neck. His size increased as well, he grew to be just under Nacks height, beak poking out from under the layer of feathers on his face, two glowing orbs of blue that scared Nack also visible, two especially long bunches feathers on his head.

"That was unexpected." Was all Nack could produce at the green replica of Cousin Itt that floundered around a bit before simply sliding across the floor graceful as a swan, in a hypnotic sense.

Here Nack was with two beasts of somewhat unknown origins, the first thing he did was leave for two items. The second he closed the door, Bean sitting down, a few bombs rolling from beneath the thick layer of feathers going off just like that, Bark rearing back until he was in a corner.

Nack returned with three items, a pair of shades, a leash and a steak, each for different use.

He walked up to Bean before attaching the leash to his bandana and attempting to cover the glowing orbs with said shades, able to do so with shocking ease. Next he tossed the meat to Bark who caught it in his maw with ease, towering over both Nack and Bean with ease, probably not able to squeeze through doorways.

And Nack had to deal with these two brainless dumbasses for hopefully only a night, and then the next night, and the next, and so on and so forth.

Oh Chaos, what was he gonna tell Jewel?

He can do that tomorrow, hopefully.

His thoughts were quickly broken by a bomb being thrusted into his face, he just barely skimmed it, handing Bean a glare that had the green ball of feathers shaking.

"Now listen here, Bean, you're gonna sit down and behave your ass till morrows first light, ya hear?" Nack ordered, Bean gave what was most likely a nod.

"And Bark, you are free to move around, just don't break anything, understand partner?" Nack asked, Bark nodded before lying down, nearly crushing Bean, instead resting his head on the pile of feathers.

"I'll be trying to figure out how to clean up this mess with our contacts who wanted their deal finished tonight." Nack said with a sigh before taking his leave, as he shut the door he heard and felt an explosion go off, he ignored it.

Fucking dumbasses, and he had to deal with them.

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Get Comfy’ - Bench Trio Fluff

TommyInnit needs his best friend for comfort. Tubbo has a meeting. Ranboo comes to the rescue. (Set post-Tommy’s resurrection, pre-failed Dream assassination.)

“I’m trapped!” He cried out jokingly to Ranboo as he passed them to get to the ladder, and his husband laughed and continued on his way in response.

Of all the places in the world to be stuck, this was hardly even bad.

Tommy had appeared in the early hours of the morning on Tubbo’s doorstep in Snowchester, fingers blue and whole body shaking. Not only was he physically cold and vulnerable, but Tubbo could see the way his eyes darted about and the protective stance he held when he answered the door. He uttered: “Tommy? Are you alright?”, and that’s all it took for Tommy to collapse in on himself muttering and crying, and in turn that’s all it took for Tubbo’s best friend instinct to kick in. He brought Tommy inside, pressed him to change out of his wet clothes, made them both a hot chocolate, and then sat them on a window seat, where Tommy helpfully laid out the entire situation - bad nightmare last night, and he’d taken some damage on the way over - while they sat shoulder to shoulder, sipping on their drinks and watching a light snow fall fresh over the town. 

When Tommy finished his distressed retelling, Tubbo picked up the conversation, telling Tommy about inconsequential nothings like the stroganoff dinner they’d had the night before that went slightly awry, and Tommy added his own anecdotes about hairy cooking and whatever else along the way, getting calmer and more like himself the longer they sat. Eventually, Tubbo realised Tommy wasn’t chiming in anymore, and that’s because he had passed out on him, head lolled against his shoulder and nearly-empty mug slowly slipping from his hand. Tubbo took it and set it down softly, and then he put his head back and closed his eyes too, some part of him wishing he hadn’t slept so well last night.

He opened his eyes again as Ranboo reappeared from upstairs. "Is he asleep?" Tubbo asked him, to which Ranboo smirked. "I don't know, is he?" Tubbo pulled a face in response. "Yeah, he is." "So's Michael."

Tubbo looked back at the boy asleep on his shoulder and slipped an arm around him, shifting his weight to be leaning more on him. The rise and fall of his chest - like the waves in the fjord - reassured him that Tommy was back, not locked away somewhere Tubbo couldn't follow nor save him from. He'd had enough scares regarding that for one lifetime to make it anything but calming to watch his best friend's breathing as he slept, laying a hand beneath his collarbone and feeling the ‘thump, thump, thump’ of his heart. Stubbornly beating, still.

He could feel Ranboo’s presence over his shoulder before he spoke, “I didn’t think he could be this quiet.” “Pssh, don’t wake him.” They snickered together, Ranboo resting a hand on Tubbo’s free shoulder.

“Are you planning on staying there ‘till he wakes up?” Tubbo nodded slowly, and when Ranboo didn’t answer he turned his head to look at his husband, whose expression seemed an accurate depiction of a man who wished not to deliver some bad news. “What is it?” “You have that… town meeting at two. Which is in ten minutes.” “Shit.”

He’d completely forgotten about the Snowchester residents meeting he and Jack had called, somehow. They were searching for a missing nuke, and a relatively inconspicuous town meeting about security seemed the best way to open the discussion. Only, none of that would matter if he wasn’t there. Tommy seemed to grow heavier at his side, and regret curled around his heart. The chances of him being able to move Tommy alone without waking him were as slim as the chances of both of them making it to twenty. Not impossible, but not something to be trifled with. Unless…

“You okay?” He felt Ranboo squeeze his other shoulder, mild concern furrowing his brow. “Yeah, I just-” He indicated Tommy with a head tilt. “I’d rather not wake him.” He lifted his gaze, making eye contact with the taller boy and laying his free hand on his side. “I don’t suppose you could help?”

He watched as Ranboo’s brain caught up with the question, picking up Tubbo’s hand from his waist and swinging it back and forth a little absentmindedly. “Yeah, what is it?” Tubbo shuffled his legs a bit, hoping they hadn’t fallen asleep so he could get up. “Can you take him - actually, take my spot - without waking him?” By then, he’d positioned himself so his hands were under Tommy, holding up most of his body weight with one hand and an achy shoulder. Ranboo sprang into action instinctively (having a child will do that to you, he supposed), half-kneeling on the window seat behind Tubbo. “Yeah, yeah I can.” They conducted the change-over quietly, as Ranboo squeezed into the gap Tubbo left as the smaller boy propped up his friend against Ranboo’s side. There was a hold-your-breath moment as Tommy settled against Ranboo’s arm (and not his shoulder, because of the height difference), shook his head slightly in his sleep, and kept right on snoozing. Ranboo maneuvered his arm around Tommy, and then they breathed that long, sweet sigh of relief.

“Thank Prime.” “Thank Prime? Thank me, that was my expertise at work, excuse me.” Tubbo kissed him on the forehead lightly. “Thank you.” Then he scurried off to get his coat from across the room, and Ranboo realised his own predicament.

“Excuse me, Mr President-” “Militarist Commune!” “-Whatever. I appear to have been trapped.” Tubbo’s laugh was akin to a dog’s bark, and he quickly hopped across the room while pulling a boot on to the kitchen table, and then back to Ranboo and Tommy on the window seat. He put Ranboo’s phone, earphones and an apple into Ranboo’s hand, and then hop-stepped away again to find his other boot.

“What’s this?” “What do you mean ‘what’s this’?” Ranboo’s expression was pure bemusement as he looked over his stuff. “You didn’t have any plans for the next couple hours, did you?” After a beat, Ranboo replied with a simple “Nope.” Tubbo grinned mischievously. “Good. Get comfy.”

Ranboo looked down at the blonde boy currently curled up against his side, his breath wheezing slightly with every breath he took. “I- I don’t think he’ll react too kindly to- to waking up next to me.” Tubbo shrugged, his hand on the doorknob. “You have three canon lives.” His face split into a joyous smirk as Ranboo’s jaw dropped to the floor. “...Okay then.”

It took Tubbo a full ten seconds to recover his composure enough to speak again. “I’m joking. Mostly.” He pulled a perturbed expression for a second. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll probably make you swear to pretend it never happened. Or-” His eyes flicked down to the sleeping boy one more time, and he wrapped his arms around himself, like he was recalling the warmth. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. Bye!” And just like that he was gone. Ranboo watched him step lightly down the path, and relaxed. Prevent husband being late to his own security meeting: check.

Tommy shifted slightly at his side again, and he looked down at him as he attempted to untangle his earphones with one hand. In sleep, there was none of the shouting, or the weird guttural growling noise he made sometimes, or the insults Ranboo hoped were just friendly teasing. All of the tension had left him, and the lines around his brow from where he spent most of his time squinting or glowering were smoothed out. He looked so peaceful, so unlike Ranboo had ever seen him before. Tubbo’s presence had made him feel safe enough to calm down, to lower the shield and bring down the walls, and fall asleep with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. Their bond was incredible, really, to have survived wars and multiple canon deaths and a fight that was bigger than either of them, watched by the whole world. And Tommy trusted Tubbo to protect him, enough to pass out on him in the middle of the day.

The enderman-hybrid knew he could not compete with either side of their shared attachment, nor did he want to. But, he thought as he brushed a bit of lint away from one of Tommy’s eyes, if he could be even a little bit like that for Tubbo, he might find the family he’d craved as far back as he could remember. It wasn’t a memory, it was more like a feeling. Something that ran deeper than his conscious thoughts. A sixth sense, a raw instinct. To keep his family safe, however he must.

And if he could convince the strong-willed second-in-command as well? The more the merrier.

[one-boring-person]

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face. 

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss. 

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together. 

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface. 

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?" 

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?" 

"Should be." 

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age. 

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly. 

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit. 

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife. 

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire,  through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you." 

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."