#is he putting the mask on? or is he taking it off? much to think about…..

[arowyn-m]

Viktor's Sequence in S2's Opening, What It Symbolizes & What it Means for the Rest of S2

So Act I dropped and it's great—Lots of plot points to go over in the future—but for now I want to deep dive into some interesting things I noticed about the intro, particularly found in Viktor's portion of it.

The opening is full of interesting symbolism and representations of Arcane's characters in their clearest, "purest" form (pure as in lacking impurities, not as in morally pure).

There's a lot of neat tidbits hidden in the opening, but I particularly want to dive into Viktor's segment because i am biased as hell his shots have some potentially incredible depth to them that I'd like to dissect.

A lot of that potential comes from what exactly the mask represents, which I'm arguing is not a symbol of Viktor's Machine Herald identity.

Hear me out.

Starting off with his first shot: we see Viktor reaching for the mask. Instantly after he makes contact we cut to a shot of Viktor holding the mask and considering it. He even turns it a little as he looks at its face, as if he's not quite sure what it is.

These shots are telling the story of S1 Viktor's experimentation with the Hexcore, particularly the research Viktor conducted AFTER his blood mixed with it...and yet, the mask does not represent the Hexcore itself, so how can it be telling that story?

I've seen a lot of theories of what exactly is the catalyst of Hextech's corruption into the Anomaly, and the most popular one at the moment seems to be that Blood + Hextech + Abuse of Magic = Anomaly/Angry Arcane. This theory seems to stem from the fact that not only did the Hexcore react to Viktor's blood, but so also did the Hexgates themselves.

Corruption found on the base floor of the Hexgates. There's a ceiling to this room, so there's very little chance that this is literally where Viktor's blood landed, but I do think his blood's presence in the Hextech-charged room triggered a chain reaction with the rest of the Hexgate. We may even see this happen in a flashback.

So, assuming these intro shots are representative of the moment when Viktor reached out and touched the Hexcore, and later when he's examining it more closely/experimenting with it, why don't these shots represent the Hexcore itself?

Because Viktor isn't making a move to put on the mask. He's just looking at it, thinking about it, considering what it is. Viktor absolutely made a move to use the Hexcore in S1—and killed his assistant in the process.

So what is he "looking" at?

I believe the mask is representative of the Arcane itself, and, by extension, its hold on Viktor's mind.

He's examined the Arcane and played with its properties—unsure of what to really make of it, but he never had the chance to take on the full potential of it. Once Sky died he realized that something was very wrong. Maybe he didn't realize how wrong, but he definitely concluded that this form of magic needed to be destroyed—thus the "Promise me" scene.

If the Blood + Hextech + Magic Overuse = the Arcane lashing out theory is true...then the moment that Viktor's blood mixes with the Hexcore is the moment it crosses the line from a mindless device to a tool of the Arcane.

This idea is only strengthened by Viktor's next shot—the mask being held to his face.

Viktor himself is not holding the mask—Jayce is. This shot depicts how Jayce used the Hexcore to save Viktor's life—very much against Viktor's will on multiple fronts—replacing Viktor's identity with a false one.

Jayce is putting the mask of the Arcane onto Viktor's face, hiding his true features, his emotions, his personality. The mask wears a flat, serene expression, reflecting Viktor's forcibly suppressed emotions in this Act—as we see with how Viktor interacted with Jayce when he woke up. As cathartic as that scene may have been, Vik was acting wildly out of character, and I sincerely think that was on purpose.

It's difficult to tell in this lighting but Vik's eyes are also their typical golden-amber in this shot. That would only make sense if this is symbolic of Viktor's true character being concealed by a false identity. It would make no sense to use Vik's amber eyes in a sequence meant to symbolize his new identity being concealed by the literal Machine Herald mask.

The final shot is not much different from the last one, but really drives home this comparison and the idea that the mask represents the Arcane, not Viktor's MH arc. The same mask is worn by numerous others, all slowly fading into view.

These faceless people are the Church of the Gloriously Evolved, all represented by the same exact mask that Viktor is poised to take on.

And yet, the mask is never fully put onto Viktor's face, unlike Viktor's followers. He can still back away. He can still hesitate.

So what does this all mean for S2?

It means that this ^ is not Viktor. This is a man either heavily under the influence of (or being fully controlled by) the Arcane.

And it also means that this trancelike state is not Viktor's endgame. I sincerely doubt this husk of who Viktor used to be will end up being the calculating antihero that is the Machine Herald.

Another point for the theory that Viktor's mental humanity will come back to him is the fact that Vik's in-game MH mask has golden eyes, mirroring Viktor's real eyes, not the lifeless—albeit shifting—gray of Viktor's current irises. Assuming Riot will be keeping this iconic part of Vik's design, that signals a change back from the emotionless puppet Viktor seems to be right now.

But I suppose we'll know for certain by the finale.

[wolvietxt]

𝓭aryl 𝓭ixon…

with a FAT crush on reader

pairing : daryl dixon x reader warnings : fluff, headcannons, confession, jealousy, budding relationship au, painfully awkward :3 wc : ~600

❀ daryl often finds himself stealing glances at you, unable to look away when you’re talking to others or just being yourself. whenever you catch him, he quickly looks away, his cheeks heating up.

❀ when you’re nearby, daryl tends to trip over his words. he might start to say something casual, only to forget what he wanted to say altogether, leaving you confused while he awkwardly shifts his gaze.

❀ he feels a pang of jealousy whenever he sees you laughing or chatting with someone else, even if it’s just a friendly conversation. he’ll huff under his breath, trying to hide how bothered he is, even though he knows it’s silly.

❀ if he manages to give you a compliment, it comes out as a jumble of awkwardness. he might say something like, “you look nice today. really nice. not that you don’t always look nice, but…” and then trails off, flustered.

❀ daryl often finds himself going out of his way to help you, whether it’s fixing something around the camp or sharing some of his hunting spoils. he takes pride in being useful to you, hoping you notice his efforts.

❀ he’ll tease you lightly but affectionately, using humour to mask his feelings. if you’re frustrated with something, he might say, “you can’t be that mad. you’re too cute for that,” which makes you roll your eyes, but he’s secretly pleased when you laugh.

❀ when you’re injured or upset, daryl is quick to offer comfort, often in the form of silence rather than words. he’ll sit beside you, his presence calming, and might even offer a hand to hold, hoping you know he’s there for you.

❀ he remembers little details about you that others might overlook, like your favourite snacks or books. if he finds something that reminds him of you, he’ll make a mental note to bring it up later, wanting to connect with you on a deeper level.

❀ in private moments, he lets his guard down a bit, showing you his softer side. he might share stories from his past or express vulnerabilities, hoping to build trust and deepen your bond, even if he struggles to put his feelings into words.

❀ he shows his affection through little gifts he picks up during runs. he might bring you a pretty stone or a small trinket he found, trying to act nonchalant about it, even though his heart races when you smile in appreciation.

❀ daryl feels protective over you, always watching your back and making sure you’re safe. when you’re in danger or upset, he can’t help but step in, often saying something gruff but caring.

❀ he gets nervous when you touch him, whether it’s a casual brush of your hand or a comforting hug. he’ll freeze for a moment, unsure of how to react, but inside, he’s a flurry of emotions.

❀ when you talk about your interests or passions, he listens intently, even if he doesn’t fully understand. he loves hearing you speak, and he admires your passion, even if he can’t express it well.

❀ the longer he keeps his feelings to himself, the more he worries about losing you. he often thinks about what might happen if you found someone else, which makes him realise just how much he cares for you.

❀ eventually, in a moment of vulnerability, he might finally admit his feelings, saying something like, “i’ve liked you for a while, you know?” his voice is quiet, but the sincerity is clear, and he hopes you feel the same way.

[solspinaa]

We Should Stick Together

sanguinius ⋆˙⟡

have a very small sangy blurb that is literally just me braindumping! not proofread and a little fulgrim x reader if you squint :)

sanguinius has very clearly taken interest in someone, and fulgrim is quite tired of watching sanguinius collect offerings for his beloved rather than taking any productive action. through a little teasing and perhaps creating a lie great enough to form genuine jealousy, the phoenician can make something happen.

warnings: n/a

Fulgrim takes yet another sip of his 4th glass of wine, holding back a pout as he draws the glass away from his stained lips. To say he is bored - and also quite clueless - would be an understatement bordering insult. The wine he holds in his hand is absolutely delectable, a fine luxury piece from his own personal collection, smooth on the throat and incredibly enjoyable when not paired with second-hand embarrassment. He sighs as he notices his supply is dwindling rapidly, not feeling even the slightest bit drunk.

Throne, he should have brought something stronger.

"What do you think of these?" His white-winged brother shoved two sparkling stones into his hand, smiling like a childish idiot as he did so.

"They are.. nice..." Fulgrim claimed as he inspected them closely, attempting to hide his annoyance as he swept over the gems with violet eyes. "However, this one seems brittle, like it will crumble the moment it is grinded upon, and this one seems quite lackluster." His voice did not hide his disinterest in the subject, but he was at least honest.

"And what about the color? Do you think she will prefer quartz? Or perhaps red? Ah, but red makes it seem like it's about me..."

"Sanguinius..." Fulgrim whispered, trying to interrupt his brother, or at the very least return him to his senses before he went on yet another incoherent ramble about his potential courtier.

"And its about her, not me. I would hate to bring home something that is to her distaste. I don't wish to put her off, I think I've done well so far acquiring her interest, I really-"

"Sanguinius!" The Phoenician finally exclaimed in more of a yell than a speaking voice, his annoyance with his brother no longer confined behind a glass of chilled wine. He released the tension from his shoulders upon seeing the blond angel's wide, shocked eyes.

Taking in the final sip of his wine, he sighed yet again. "I don't think any number of my wives have had me in as much of a chokehold as this woman does you, brother. You are smitten, and hopelessly so."

Sanguinius' wings betrayed his feeble attempt at releasing his embarrassment. They fluttered at the mention of her, and so he turned away from Fulgrim, his cheeks dusted a light pink and a small amount of his feathers puffed up upon the top of both wings. A body language display familiar of most birds, but unfamiliar to the palatine phoenix. The angel's voice shook the very slightest as he attempted to maintain his composure.

"Hopeless, Fulgrim?" He paused, his shaking irises evident of trying to collect his thoughts. "Has she told you something she has not told me?"

Was there… anger? in his tone? Maybe it was jealousy fulgrim had heard, possessiveness even, he could not tell.

Regardless, this sort of reaction from the angel was something he had not heard from his perfect and composed brother before. A piece of him felt confused at the fact that his brother had become so quickly offended in regards to a mere human, and yet another piece felt curious, entertained by the possibility of whether or not he could strike a nerve within the brightest one.

Sanguinius saw a sinister smile creep across Fulgrim's perfect features. His shoulders raised at his brother's gentle laugh. "Defensive, are we, angel? Protective, perhaps?" The phonecian placed his wine glass down upon the rocks next to the two of them, taking note of Sanguinius' clenched fists and slightly narrowed eyes. He could tell the great angel was doing his best to mask his infamous inner wrath, but he simply couldn't at the mention of some mortal woman. "Worry not, I've already told myself that you would be the one marrying this one... Should you not take too long I would not make my move."

With a step toward Sanguinius, he moved closer, brushing a few strands of blond hair behind his brother's ear so that his whisper would fall directly on his ears "That being said, clock is ticking. Drop the stones you wish to bring her, take her your words instead… lest i take her my words first.”

The sound of ruffling feathers filled the air alongside a slight expression of jealousy from Sanguinius, brows downturned and eyes slightly squinted. “I know you only tease, Fulgrim."

"And if I don't?" The Phoenician replied, his tone simultaneously teasing and serious. He wished for nothing more than to confirm his suspicion, for the angel to fall from grace and admit the painfully obvious, that he was jealous.

"You best keep your hands off. It is I who loves her. It is I who will see to it that she marries me.”

Sanguinius would be lying if he said he was not slightly afraid of Fulgrim attempting his interest’s hand in marriage.

On one hand, the poor bachelorette had a winged mutant, a man with a pair of massive wings accompanied by two sharp canines and an insatiable thirst for blood buried deep within him.

On the other was a man who was perfect in every way. Silky, smooth, gorgeous white hair cascaded over his shoulders the same way his robes fit the contours of his slender body in a noble shade of purple. His face, in every way, was nothing short of youthful and beautiful and every positive word that a human could conjure from their lips.

In other words, if Fulgrim made it to her first, Sanguinius knew he would stand no chance.

…Would he?

Would she choose the man who had experience caring for women? Or the one who she would have to teach? Did she have the patience for him?

"Say it with your chest than, oh great angel."

"I love her…”

“Hmm…” Fulgrim smiled, aware that his dear angelic brother was completely lost in thought. He knew how to hit where it hurt, for no one could turn away from Fulrgim’s perfection.

He knew Sanguinius would doubt himself, and he knew that he had to force him to confess before he lost the confidence to do so.

Of course, Sanguinius was a mutant with fatal flaws, but just like Fulgrim did his hair flow off of his shoulders and down his back, framing his chiseled face like a golden halo as piercing amber eyes shone like the sands of Baal under its suns.

Fulgrim had witnessed the girl weaving small and intricate jewels into chains that would drape themselves beautifully over Sanguinius’ wings, if the two of them had just attempted to replace their distanced pining with the intimacy they both intensely longed for.

“What she told me was that she desired you just as much… But I told her your eyes were set on someone else.” He smiled deviously at his brother, watching his expression turn into one of horror as he realized Fulgrim had probably shattered her heart into shreds with his false news. “So she and I made a deal. If you confessed to her within the week, you could have her. But if you failed to…”

The Phoenician raised one of his hands, opening his palm to a ring made in approximately the size of a tiny human finger. Sanguinius’ expression filled with anger as he fought the urge to strangle his brother right then and there. His teeth were clinched together with enough force to shatter a diamond in two.

Fulgrim's smile spread completely across his face before he turned upon his heels, flicking a head full of white hair toward Sanguinius before he broke out into a full sprint for the imperial palace. "And who is it that will tell her the news, brother?!”

With a single thunderous beat, the angel shot into the air, his speed in flight incomprehensibly faster than Fulgrim was on foot.

He smiled once more, his winged brother gone in the blink of an eye. None of what he said had been true, of course, but he too enjoyed some lighthearted teasing every once in a while. The expression upon the face of the great angel had been priceless. How could one be so jealous over someone they were stuck longing for?

He hoped that the angel would return with positive news and without the urge to slap him, and that he would still be invited to the wedding.

[melonglossz]

“stop moving, toshi.”

“sorry, love.”

it has been a long week for both them and ushijima. him with his vigorous volleyball practices and them with all of their schoolwork and classes that felt never-ending. so, when the both of them had no plans this weekend, they decided it was the perfect time to do some self-care, watch crappy reality tv, and eat whatever they wanted (well, they would eat whatever they wanted, ushijima would stick to his diet).

it wasn’t often that they got to go all out with their skincare or ushijima’s, so that meant pulling out all the stops: face masks, expensive face creams, lip scrubs, and under-eye masks.

sighing, they couldn’t help but smile as the hands on their waist tightened. “alright, i think we are done.” they patted their boyfriend's cheek as they removed the eye mask from under his eye. they knew by the furrow of his brows and the fidgeting that they wouldn’t get the second one on (honestly, they was surprised they even got the first one on since ushijima has a thing with things being put in or around his eyes).

“hm,” ushijima’s eyes fluttered open as he stared at them with a pout on his lips, “if you’re sure.”

“what,” they giggled, “you want to keep going?”

“i don’t mind, as long as you don’t put those things under my eyes again.”

their smile widened. “well, i guess some chapstick wouldn’t hurt.” they tried to move towards the bathroom counter but was stopped by ushijima wrapping his arms around their waist and pulling them closer to where he sat on the toilet lid. before they could ask him what he was doing he pulled them in for a kiss. immediately their hands go to the nape of his neck and their fingers play with the hair there. the kiss in of itself wasn’t anything crazy, they didn’t feel butterflies in their stomach or exploding fireworks instead, they felt warm and safe and happy. the two of them kiss like they have all the time in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of them in this bathroom. they eventually break from the kiss and rest their forehead against his. they gave him a couple more pecks before moving back so they could look at his face.

“not that i didn’t enjoy it, but what was that for?”

“chapstick,” he said with a cute smile and shrug.

they let out a surprised laugh as they smacked his shoulder “oh my god, wakatoshi!” sometimes they couldn’t believe that they got to be with this man. they placed their hands on his cheeks and just stared at him. god, they wished they could take a picture of ushijima like this, with his hair pushed up off his face with a my melody headband (they had a matching kuromi one), face clean and bright, a cute smile on his face, and most importantly eyes that were filled with so much love it hurt them sometimes. they were forever grateful that they were the only person in the world who got to see him like this.

“come on lover boy,” they reached for both his and theirs headbands and took them off, throwing them on the counter, “we have a show to get back to.”

[butterflyslinky]

It's been seven months. They've seen each other on calls, but they keep up a mask of stiff professionalism if they have to talk at all.

But now Buck's sitting in a gay bar, looking for some fun the same way he does on every 48 off. His expectations are low. No one seems to want a real relationship, not that he's really trying for one, ad the sex is mediocre at best.

Because none of them are Tommy.

He's two drinks in when he hears a familiar laugh and turns. There's Tommy, sitting four stools down and talking to the bartender. Buck wonders how he missed him entering the bar, but it doesn't matter. What matters is Tommy is here, so close, and Buck...

Okay, he'd jumped the gun asking Tommy to move in. And everything he's said before that had been...not great. Thinking about it, it's no wonder Tommy had hit the brakes. Though he maybe could have asked to just take a break instead of ending it completely.

Though it would have gone the same way, probably.

Buck knocks back his last drink and stands. He's steady on his feet as he makes his way down the bar and plops himself into the empty seat next to Tommy

Tommy doesn't look shocked to see him. Not happy, either. Just kind of resigned. "Buck?"

"Don't," Buck says. "I don't want..." He grits his teeth to force back tears. "I think we need to talk."

"Why?" Tommy asks.

"Because I have things to say to you," Buck says. "And I'm not going to let you just walk out again."

He's said all those things, in texts that sat unanswered, voice messages that were probably deleted without being heard. This time, he wants to make sure Tommy hears.

"I don't have a lot of time tonight," Tommy says.

"Then I'll say it fast. You broke my heart, Tommy. You said you were my first but not my last...but you weren't my first. I've dated and broken up before, I know what relationships are. Just cause you're a dude doesn't mean it was any different. As to not being my last, well, I've had plenty in the last seven months and none of them are going to be my anything. I told you they can be the same thing, and I mean it. I don't want to be in love with anyone the way I'm in love with you."

"Evan..."

"And if you don't want me, fine, but just say that instead of giving me some bullshit about not wanting your heart broken. Because I can't break your heart, Tommy. Maybe it's been seven months, but I'm still in love with you, and I don't see that changing any time soon." Evan looks down for a moment. "So...I know I'm a lot. I know I said some dumb shit. And I know there's a lot I still don't know. But I do know I want you to come home with me, and you don't have to stay, but...I want to try again. Now that I know a little more."

Tommy's eyes are bright when Buck looks up. "I can't."

"What?"

"Evan, I can't come with you tonight. Or any night."

Buck's stomach sinks. "Is there someone else?"

"No," Tommy says. "No, just...I got a new job. In Seattle...they offered me a command. A chance to be captain...don't get much more brave and trailblazing than that, do you, being an openly gay fire captain." He swallows hard. "I'm leaving on Monday."

Buck stares. The world seems to be tilting, even though he hasn't had that much to drink. "Oh."

"I thought you would have heard," Tommy says. "It's been kind of big news around the department."

"Everyone's been extra delicate with me," Buck says. "They don't talk about you where they think I can hear." He forces a smile. "Congratulations...you deserve it."

"Yeah?" Tommy says.

"Yeah. I'm happy for you." Buck waves to the bartender. "Put his drinks on my tab."

"Evan..."

"Least I can do. Since...since it's really over."

Tommy nods, but he looks sad. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I can just...start again. And I guess you can, too."

"Yeah," Buck says. "I guess I can."

--------------

It's a stupid idea, but Buck's full of those. He knows that it'll probably end in disaster, that he'll end up crawling back with his tail between his legs again.

But he has to try.

The airport looks just the same as it had when he dropped Abby off all those years ago. The same was it had been when he'd watched her walk out of his life, only to be seen again when it was unavoidable.

He's not doing that now.

Tommy is easy to spot, in spite of the crowd, standing in the check-in line. Buck thinks it must be kismet, that he's on time. There had been several flights to Seattle today, and he just took his best shot.

"Tommy!"

Tommy turns, and his brow furrows when he sees Buck. "Evan?"

Buck pushes his way through the crown, suitcase heavy in his hand, until he reaches Tommy's side. Tommy looks him over, then down at the bag. "Evan, what..."

"I know you said it's over," Buck says. "And that you don't want to try this again. And if you tell me to leave right now, I will. But I couldn't take the chance that I'd never see you again, even if you don't want to be in my life. And don't worry about work, Bobby transferred me to a different station than the one you're commanding, and I have a place to stay until I can find an apartment, and I'll get a new car since I gave the Jeep back to Maddie, but..."

"Evan," Tommy interrupts. "Did you just upend your life to follow me to Seattle?"

"Yes," Evan says. "If you'll let me."

Tommy stares for a minute before he pulls Buck into a kiss. And this time, Buck really knows it will be forever.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 29 - Masks/Costumes

A/N: Okay so this came about because of a conversation with @jhoneybees and a tiktok about imagining Elvis doing a Calvin Klein advert. This is basically set now, but imagine it's 1969 Elvis, don't ask me how that works it just does.

Pairing: 69!Elvis x photographer!reader

Word count: 2.1K

TWs: This concept is maybe too hot to think about for too long so be careful, masturbation, p in v sex, dirty photos, kinda public sex. There's a mask but honestly I just shoehorned it in there.

Kinktober masterlist

“So if you could just strip down to the underwear, and then make yourself comfortable on the chair. We’ve got some props in the box too.”

Elvis frowns a little at the word “props”, but does as he’s told. He’s nervous about this photoshoot. He never thought he would do anything like this, but here he is. He starts to strip, feeling self-conscious under the hot lights. He’s never really been a big fan of underwear but these new Calvin Klein boxer shorts are pretty comfortable. They don’t leave much to the imagination, though, and he sits awkwardly on the armchair, shuffling his legs about. 

“Can you put one of those masks on, please?”

He starts at the voice. Female, honeyed, with an air of authority. Looking up, he’s confronted by you and your camera. He’d been expecting the female set helpers but not a female photographer. Becoming even more aware of the way his dick looks in his pants, he crosses one leg over the other. He pulls a mask out of the box of props and puts it on over his eyes, feeling like this must look absolutely ridiculous but trying his best to be amenable. The lights are beating down on him and he feels like the entire room of people is staring at him. He’s usually happy to be looked at, encourages it almost, but this is different. He feels naked, exposed. 

“Um… uh… is this okay, honey?”

You sigh. “Uncross your legs. And stop calling me honey, Mr Presley.”

“Ah I-I’m sorry… Miss…” he stumbles awkwardly over the words. “Ya…um… ya don’t have ta call me Mr Presley. Elvis is fine.”

“Uncross your legs, Elvis.”

You watch as he slowly does as you tell him. Men calling you pet names annoys you on principle, but he’s much less cocky than you’d expected. There’s something endearing about the way he stumbles over his words and seems a little unsure of himself. 

“That’s great, thanks. We’ll take a few shots for the lighting now. Try to relax.”

Elvis tries his very best to relax, but he can’t help but feel a combination of terror and arousal. You’re gorgeous but he can’t seem to charm you like he usually would. You don’t seem interested. Maybe you’re just being professional, but it’s still off-putting. He puts a hand on each of the arms of the chair and tries to keep his expression neutral. You take a few shots and ask the lighting technicians to make one or two changes until you’re happy. Then you actually look at his face and realise he looks terrified. 

“Really try to relax, Elvis. You look like you’re about to be eaten by a grizzly bear.”

There’s a moment of silence and then he bursts out laughing. His whole face lights up as he belly-laughs and you grin back, taking a few photos of him looking natural. You take a quick look at them and decide you can do without the mask. It was something that the stylist had suggested for the shoot, and you’d wondered why anyone would want to cover up such a gorgeous face, but they’d done a relatively good job of persuading you. Some kind of eyes wide shut theme or something like that. But it doesn’t work, and you aren’t one to stick to things just for the sake of it. 

“That’s better! Get rid of the mask too, that’s not working for me.”

He smiles, pulling it off and throwing it onto the floor. “This working for you, honey?” He asks, cheekily, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs wide. 

You find yourself biting your lip to stifle a moan. He looks damn hot. But you have to be professional. You’ve done plenty of these photoshoots with attractive men, and you haven’t lost your cool yet. 

“That’s great. Let’s have a few of you smiling like that and then a couple of serious ones.”

His brain works overtime as he follows your directions. Are you interested? He swears he saw you bite your lip just then, but your voice is even and professional and you’re not flirting back at all. 

You keep snapping away with the camera, directing him and the lighting people until you get what you want. Your eyes are drawn to his hands, the glittering rings and the length of his fingers… you clear your throat. Have to keep things professional. 

“You getting what you need, honey?” His eyes are sparkling and there’s a little smile playing about his lips. 

“What did I tell you about calling me honey? It’s not 1973.”

Elvis raises both eyebrows and then lets them fall again. Does he detect something different in your voice? The tiniest quiver?

“You didn’t answer my question. Are ya gettin’ what ya need?”

He runs his tongue over his lips and you have to work hard not to lose it completely. 

“Yes, thank you, Elvis.” 

Your eyes involuntarily shift to the bulge in his pants. Luckily the camera is against your face so he can’t see where you’re looking, but you just stare. It’s definitely been growing over the course of the photoshoot. 

“Just one or two more. Give me your sexiest look.”

You have no idea why you decided to play with fire like that, and you regret it immediately. He smoulders, blue eyes staring at you as he rests his chin in his hand. Your panties are definitely getting damp now. You take a few more photos and then bite your lip, hard. 

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s a wrap!” 

Elvis blinks. He doesn’t want this to be over. He’s having far too much fun.

“Could ya do one or two more? I’m not sure I gave ya my sexiest look…”

Your stomach flip-flops. If that wasn’t his sexiest look you’re not sure you want to see what is.

“Well, okay, maybe one or two more.”

The lighting technician sighs audibly. It’s well past lunch time. You look over at him. 

“Why don’t you go for lunch? The lights are fine.” You look around at the other one or two people in the room. “You can all go. We won’t be much longer.”

Elvis watches the scene with interest. You’re refusing to make eye contact with him and he swears you’re blushing. Everyone else is just happy to be allowed to go, grabbing their things and making their way out. It’s just you and him now, and the room is quiet.

Elvis breaks the silence. “We won’t be much longer, hm?” 

You look up, awkwardly, suddenly wondering just what you thought you were doing when you sent everyone else for lunch. 

“N-no, just…uh… one or two more shots.”

Elvis chuckles. “Relax, baby. You look like you’re about to be eaten by a grizzly bear. And I ain’t that big.” But I will eat ya, he thinks. 

The tension in the room defuses for a minute or two as you laugh along with him. You pick up your camera again. 

“Okay, come on then. Really give me your sexiest look this time.”

You can hear your heart beating in your ears and feel your whole body getting hot. He runs his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment, and then you watch as they spring open and he fixes you with the most intense stare. Propping his head up again on the back of his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair, without any kind of warning he puts a finger in his mouth and bites on the knuckle. You almost faint on the spot. 

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen and his lips curl into a smile. 

“What’s that, baby?” Noting that’s the second time he’s called you baby and got away with it.

“N-nothing. That’s good. You’re right, that is sexier than what you were doing before.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your panties are ruined and you’re actively suppressing a moan. He can see the effect he’s having and he knows exactly when to strike. 

“Come closer.”

His voice is so syrupy you can’t help yourself, putting one foot in front of the other until you’re standing right in front of him. You shakily move your camera from your face. 

“I-I think I’ve got what I… um… need,” you babble, trying to keep your eyes on his face but finding them wandering down to his boxers again. 

“Nothing else ya need?” He teases, moving one of his hands to rest on his clothed dick. 

You swallow. “N-no, Elvis.”

“No?”

You just stare at him, unable to speak. 

“Nothing else ya want to take a photo of?” 

Part of him can’t believe he’s being this bold, but he finds himself staring right into your eyes as he rubs his dick through the boxers, letting out a little breathy sigh and biting his lip. 

The tension is unbearable. 

“What are you offering?” You whisper, your eyes darting down to his hand on his dick and back up again. 

He smirks. “Just sayin’ ya can take photos of whatever ya like.”

You step back and bring your camera back up to your face, snapping a photo of him with his hand so obviously touching himself through his pants. 

“Take it out,” you find yourself instructing him. 

He grunts, shifting the boxers down a little as he reaches inside them for his dick, pulling it out and stroking it a couple of times.

“Can you… move the boxers down… further?” Your mouth feels dry and you try desperately to swallow. 

He pulls them down a little more and you gulp, seeing his balls exposed under that big, thick shaft. You take a few more photos. Elvis’ chest heaves. 

“Touch yourself again.”

He does as he’s told, slowly moving his foreskin up and down, staring right into the camera as he does it. You adjust the lens, take more photos, squeeze your thighs together. 

Your hands shake as you move the camera away from your face. He looks so good. 

“You got what you need?” He asks, still lazily stroking himself. 

You shake your head, trying to put the camera down carefully before walking the couple of steps it takes to reach him. 

“No. I need your dick inside me.”

He groans, watching as you pull your pencil skirt up around your waist and position yourself on his lap, pulling your panties to the side and sinking down on his length. 

“Fuck,” you murmur, feeling him stretch you. 

“You okay, baby?” He asks, as you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely. 

You’re surprised at the tenderness, at the way he pulls you into a kiss when you tell him yes. Your arms snake around his neck and his fingers grip your hips, thrusting up into you from underneath. You lean your forehead against his, panting as you roll your hips too, both of you holding each other. 

“How long have we got?” He asks. 

“I don’t know,” you breathe, cursing yourself for not checking the time when you let everyone else go. “We better be quick.”

He nods, his grip on your hips getting tighter as he fucks you from underneath. You start to bounce on him, matching his pace, both of you moaning against one another’s skin. 

“Baby, you feel so good.”

You bounce faster, your fingers finding their way into his hair. “Fuck me harder,” you murmur. 

His hips snap up obediently, driving his dick even deeper inside you. He can feel himself getting close but he wants you to cum first. 

“You close?”

You nod, pulling one of his hands down between your legs. He doesn’t need any further instructions, his thumb rubbing your clit as he keeps pounding you. Your fingers grip and pull his hair as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” 

Elvis grips you more tightly, feeling how close you are. His thumb rubs harder and faster and you feel yourself start to unravel. 

“I’m cumming… ohhhh….” 

He watches you as you arch backwards, riding him through your high, desperately wishing he could take a picture. Your walls squeezing him tightly push him over the edge too, and without thinking he cums inside you. 

“Fuck. Honey. I uh… are ya on the pill?”

You lean your sweaty forehead against his again, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck. 

You smirk. “Yeah. Don’t worry.” Pressing a kiss to his lips. “But what did I tell you about calling me honey?”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978

[darlingcameron]

New idea: Rafe is friends with an autistic reader(female I apologize) mentions of good aversion, sensitivity to noise, swimming, masking.

"Is the food okay, dear?" Rose places a hand on your shoulder which you try to contain your uneasiness but you were a little weary of her and physical contact was something you were still getting use to so you tried your best to mask it.

You offer a smile and nod, "Oh yes, Mrs. Cameron it all looks so good I'm just-"

"She's autistic, Rose...I'll just bake her something else." Rafe speaks up, placing his napkin down and gets up from his seat and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you didn't want Rose to feel offended or make anything awkward, "No! Rafe I-i can try it- look!" You almost clumsily pick up your fork, circling the spaghetti around your fork but then looks at it for a moment, the sauce seeming almost offensive towards you and you shake your head. "Yeah, no nevermind..I'm so sorry...I know you put so much effort into this I just-" you rambled on as your people pleaser tentacles start to kick in and you look around fanatically between Rose and the plate in front of you.

"Y/N for the love of God, shut up-its fine just come with me and I'll see what I can make for you- let's go." He snaps his fingers towards the door that leads inside and you sheepishly smile at Rose before rising out of your seat and walk inside.

Rafe follows, sliding the glass door closed and goes over to the freezer. "What would it be? Chicken nuggets and fries again?" He looks over at you, holding the handle to the freezer and you shrug, "I don't know kind of getting bored of that being a safe food." You say as you lean against the counter, feeling awful and like you were a nuisance towards him and his family. "But I can deal with it."

"Nonsense, I'll just keep looking. Hey, how about some apples and peanut butter? Both healthy and contain protein." He asks, opening a cabinet and looking around, moving things about.

You wave him off, "honestly I can wait...I can just go hole and order mcdonalds."

"McDonald's isn't exactly a healthy choice." He says and you shrug, "there's a Chinese place down by where I live."

"And I think you order so much that thats the reason they're still open."

You roll your eyes. "Really Rafe, I can just wait..."

"Then you'll get cranky from your blood sugar dropping and you'll start to get panicky...remember the last time? You kept hitting your head and I thought you were gonna have a concussion." He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes the cabinet, looking over at you.

"Whats up with you tism people and fast food?" He asks, walking over to you.

"Convient, you don't have to make it or stress for like 30 minutes looking for what may look good, and if you order from a place enough it's a no brainer on what to eat." You shrug as you explain.

"You need to have a home cooked meal at some point." He states, placing his hands on his hips and staring down at you.

You chuckle, "Well until you become my personal chef I'd have to wait...you're very patient with me." You mumbles the last part, fiddling with your hands and he takes hold of them. You noticed his hands felt warm and you look up at him, "You're special to me."

You tilt your head at him, "Is that a special needs joke?"

He grins and wraps his arm around your shoulder, "Could be but you're still special...c'mon...let's go get some mcdonalds and worry about our health when we're old." He escorts you both to the front of the house.

"I'll still be eating chicken nuggets at 50."

"If you're alive by then with your health choices."

[cherimoyatea]

hello hi! ik the fandom mostly favors interactions between LIs & MCs/Readers but i was wondering if you have your own ideas between the LADS boys like friendship headcanons between them? how their dynamic works and which would be the best bros with each other or strongest siblings rivalry vibes between them (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

hopefully this is alright to request! 🙏🏻

Hi Annonie!

Thank you for your request! I saw the wonderful @irandial already sharing her thoughts on the same request, and I couldn't agree more with her on the boys! But since you asked I'll also drop some headcanons 🤭

I've always imagined what their life would be like if they happened to share a house and how their dynamics would play out, so I'll set the scenario based on your request.

Remember, these are headcanons and just for fun 🩷

❧ The LaDs Men as Friends - Shared house edition

He's the loudest—always getting on everyone's nerves with his antics and pouty demands. Rafayel will block the bathroom for hours with his extensive baths and beauty routines: Since he's basically a fish on land, he's super cautious about keeping his skin hydrated.

Imagine him opening the bathroom door in a bathrobe, with a face mask on and a bowknot keeping his purple bangs off his forehead, as he yells at the other guys: ''I'm gonna burn y'all in your sleep if ya don't stop knocking on the damn door!!'' Then he slams the door shut, locks it again, and puts his Airpods on full blast, while the others continue to desperately hammer against the bathroom door, needing to use the toilet.

Rafayel pretends to be annoyed by everyone in his household and murmurs''These silly humans...'' while also using his evol and wielding his dagger to protect his friends without hesitation whenever they run into trouble. Though they get on his nerves sometimes, he wouldn't want it any other way.

Xavier is in a constant catfight with Rafayel for always eating his cheesesticks behind his back. In general, he's the one who constantly empties the fridge and eats everyone's snacks and food. Even Zayne can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief, when he finds another empty cookie package in the cabinet—for the third time this week. And its only Tuesday.

Whenever Xavier isn't busy snacking, his friends usually find him either reading a book or napping in the most unusual places around the house, giving them daily heart attacks. Once, Sylus almost spilled his drink when he tripped over Xavier's sleeping form, curled up on the soft, fluffy carpet in the dimly lit hallway. ''Uhh... I'm not quite sure how I ended up sleeping on the floor... it just looked so comfy here and the stairs to the bedroom seemed like too much effort…'' He rubs his neck sheepishly and gets up with a yawn, while Sylus taps his foot impatiently, shaking his head at the silver-blond.

Definitely the ''mom'' of the friend group. He takes care of everyone's well-being while occasionally cracking one of his dry jokes, causing an awkward silence in the room. Surprisingly, nobody feels called out when he scolds his friends for eating too much junk food or staying up too late. ''Rafayel, where are your slippers? The floor is cold—at least wear some socks.'' And the Lemurian? He rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath but eventually gets up to grab some socks from his room.

Zayne always has an open ear for his friends. Whenever someone needs to get something off their chest, they approach the Doctor, and he genuinely tries to comfort them. ''Xavier… I don't think Sylus hates you for accidentally poisoning him with your tiramisu. However. Make sure to remember that dishes with raw eggs need to be refrigerated…''

He's the one who would probably get along with everyone, giving off protective big-brother vibes. He mostly watches his friends quietly from the background with an amused smirk, shaking his head at Rafayel causing a scene over someone spilling his paint, Xavier serving a suspicious-looking tiramisu, or Zayne gathering the others laundry from the floor with a frown. ''Doc, are you sure you want to touch that? I remember seeing the fish doing... unholy things with those socks.'' Sylus says with a mischievous grin, earning a dead stare from Rafayel. ''Hold up! I did WHAT?!''

He just loves teasing these idiots.

But Sylus is also the life of the party and always up for a night out with his friends. The guys had a blast at the karaoke bar once when Sylus was drunk enough to wholeheartedly sing Miley Cyrus' Wrecking Ball. Of course, Rafayel recorded the whole show and teased him the next morning while the silver-haired man had the worst hangover ever. ''Listen, Fish... I'm adding a cat to this household if you don't delete that NOW!''

[badger-tales]

Sick Days// W.W x Reader

a/n: I'm so excited to write my first deadpool request i love wade so much!!!!!!!

request: If it’s possible, can I have Deadpool x nb!reader fluff? I feel like he doesn’t get enough fluff in fanfics. Basically, they’re married (shocker that Deadpool’s dumbass can get married ik). Nb!reader is off from work for being sick (like fever or something probably) and Wade decides to not take any bounties (taking this for the movies kinda so he’s basically a hit man-ish??) to take care of his partner. Thanks if you decide to do it!!!

-🎀 (yes ik it’s a weird signature)

word count: 3.6k

Wade clumsily waltzed into the bedroom, balancing a tray of what could only barely be called breakfast—burnt toast, a misshapen omelette, and an oversized cup of orange juice that sloshed dangerously with each step. The tray wobbled as he approached the bed, his eyes fixed on y/n, who was bundled under layers of blankets, their cheeks flushed from the fever. Wade paused dramatically at the foot of the bed, clearing his throat.

“My darling, my sick little munchkin, I present to you... the finest cuisine this side of the apartment building.” He gave an exaggerated bow, managing to keep the tray steady through sheer luck and questionable balance. y/n blinked blearily at the scene, stifling a laugh as they pushed themselves up on their elbows.

“Wade, is that supposed to be an omelette, or did you just fight it?” they asked, their voice croaky but full of amusement.

Wade gasped, his hand flying to his chest in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know this omelette put up quite the fight. I took it down for you, love. You should've seen the flips it was trying to do in the pan—but I was like, ‘No way, Mr. Egg. Not today.’” He set the tray down on their lap with a flourish, tilting his head as he took in the chaotic sight of breakfast. 

y/n smiled, despite the pounding headache and the heat radiating from their skin. They picked up a piece of burnt toast, eyeing it thoughtfully. “You know, it’s not half bad,” they said, taking a small bite. Wade practically beamed, settling on the edge of the bed beside them.

“Really? I mean, of course not! It’s made with love—and maybe a little bit of ash from the toaster. But hey, nothing says ‘I love you’ like breakfast that might give you extra crunch.” He reached over and gently adjusted the blanket around y/n’s shoulders, his movements softer now, the usual chaos tempered by genuine care.

“Thanks, Wade,” y/n said, their voice barely a whisper as they leaned back against the pillows. “For everything. Even the crunchy toast.”

Wade waved a dismissive hand, but his eyes softened behind the mask. “Hey, you’re my favorite person to take care of. Even if you are all sweaty and gross right now.” He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but I think the sweaty look kinda works for you.”

They rolled their eyes, nudging him lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you married me,” he shot back, his voice full of that playful warmth that made everything feel just a bit better. He picked up the oversized cup of orange juice and held it out to them, the liquid still threatening to spill. “Now, drink up, my love. Vitamin C is the key to beating this fever… or at least, that’s what the internet said after I ignored all the pop-ups about enlarging certain body parts.”

y/n laughed, a real one this time, and took the cup from him. “To good health and burnt breakfasts,” they said, raising the cup in a toast.

Wade tapped an imaginary glass against theirs. “To my favorite patient. May you get better soon so I can go back to being the one who needs all the attention.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to their temple. 

And for a moment, despite the fever and the exhaustion, y/n felt warm in the best possible way.

“You know what you need? A Wade Wilson patented cuddle burrito,” Wade declared, yanking the comforter off the bed. Before y/n could protest, he wrapped it around them like a human burrito, tucking it tightly so that only their head poked out. Wade grinned proudly at his handiwork, stepping back to admire the blanket-wrapped figure before diving onto the bed beside them.

y/n gave an exasperated sigh, though a smile tugged at their lips. “Wade, I can’t move at all,” they said, their voice muffled by the layers of fabric.

“Exactly! Now you’re safe from all potential threats—and by threats, I mean me, because I’m about to unleash the most intense cuddles known to humankind,” Wade said, his voice dropping dramatically as he wiggled his way closer to them.

He snuggled up to y/n, his arms wrapping around the burrito-wrapped form. “There. Snug as a bug in a Deadpool hug,” he whispered, rubbing his masked nose against theirs in an Eskimo kiss. y/n rolled their eyes playfully, warmth spreading through their chest despite the fever that still lingered.

“Wade, you’re ridiculous,” they muttered, though their tone held no real annoyance.

“Ridiculously awesome, maybe,” Wade replied, giving them a gentle squeeze. He shifted a little, making sure the blanket was still snug around them. “Besides, I read somewhere that the best medicine is plenty of cuddles. And I am nothing if not a dedicated cuddle doctor.”

y/n couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, though it quickly turned into a cough. Wade patted their back gently, his tone softening. “Hey, easy there, patient zero. I’ve got you. No coughing your way out of this burrito.”

y/n settled back against him, the tension easing from their body as they relaxed into the warmth of Wade’s embrace. Despite everything—the fever, the exhaustion—it was hard not to feel just a little bit better wrapped up and warm with Wade’s over-the-top affection. They closed their eyes, allowing themselves to enjoy the comfort.

“Thanks, Wade,” they murmured, their voice barely audible. Wade’s grip tightened slightly, and even though they couldn’t see his face beneath the mask, they knew he was smiling.

“Anything for you, my favorite burrito,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of their head.

“Who needs bounties when I can be a professional nurse-slash-chef-slash-best-husband-ever?” Wade muttered to himself as he stirred a pot of what could generously be called chicken soup. The broth looked a little… green. Maybe chicken soup wasn’t supposed to look green? He frowned, shrugging off the doubt as he poured a bowl anyway, determination etched in every exaggerated movement.

He strutted into the bedroom, bowl in hand, a wide grin plastered on his face beneath the mask. “Soup’s on! Literally!” He presented the bowl to y/n with a flourish, as if he’d just served up a five-star gourmet meal. They blinked at it, their eyes narrowing slightly as they took in the strange, greenish hue.

“Uh, Wade… why is it green?” they asked, their voice a little hoarse from the lingering sickness.

Wade tilted his head, examining the bowl as if he were seeing it for the first time. “Extra vitamins?” he offered, sounding more hopeful than confident.

Y/n chuckled weakly, shaking their head. “I think I’ll stick to tea for now,” they said, the warmth of their smile softening the rejection.

Wade gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his free hand. “You wound me, my love. This is the finest soup this side of the multiverse. Gordon Ramsay himself would cry tears of joy—or tears of rage, it’s hard to tell with that guy.”

They couldn’t help but smile at his antics, their head resting back against the pillow. “I’m sure it’s… something, Wade. But I think tea is all I can handle right now.”

Wade set the bowl down on the nightstand, giving a resigned nod. “Fine, fine. Tea it is. But I’m still counting this as a win. You laughed, and that’s all that matters,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead.

Y/n closed their eyes, feeling the warmth of his affection through the cool fabric. “Thanks for taking care of me,” they murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.

Wade’s eyes softened, and he reached out to adjust the blankets around them. “Always, my favorite patient,” he whispered back, brushing a gloved hand gently against their cheek. “Even if you won’t eat my magical green soup.”

Y/n smiled, their eyes growing heavy. “Maybe next time,” they muttered, already drifting off.

Wade grinned, standing up straight and giving a mock salute. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart. Rest up. We’ve got more ridiculousness to get to when you’re feeling better.”

And with that, he tiptoed out of the room, leaving y/n to drift into a peaceful sleep, their heart warmed by his unwavering love and care.

—-

Wade settled down beside y/n on the couch, remote in hand. “Alright, babe, I picked out the perfect movie for a sick day. *The Notebook*. Because nothing says 'get well soon' like Ryan Gosling crying.” He hit play and then snuggled in beside them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder.

Y/n gave a small chuckle, leaning into Wade. “I never thought I’d see the day you willingly watched *The Notebook*,” they teased, their voice still a little raspy.

Wade gasped dramatically. “How dare you! I’m a sensitive soul. I have layers, like an onion. Or a parfait. Plus,” he added with a wink, “I’m just here for the kissy parts.”

Y/n smiled, shaking their head slightly as they rested against him. Wade gently rubbed their arm, his attention shifting between the movie and y/n’s face. Every time they coughed or shivered, he’d pull them a little closer, wrapping the blanket tighter around them.

“Plus, I’ll be here to provide director’s commentary. Spoiler: Ryan Gosling doesn’t wear a mask. Rookie move,” Wade added, his voice laced with humor.

Y/n looked up at him, their tired eyes full of warmth. “I’m just glad you’re here,” they whispered, their voice sincere.

Wade looked down at them, his eyes softening. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he said, his voice losing some of its usual bravado. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of their head, holding them close as the movie played on.

As the rain-soaked scene between Noah and Allie unfolded, Wade sighed dramatically. “See, that’s where he went wrong. Should’ve worn a red suit and used a few jokes. Guaranteed happy ending every time.”

Y/n laughed softly, their head resting against his shoulder. “You’re impossible,” they murmured, their eyes growing heavy.

“And yet, you still love me,” Wade replied, his tone softer now, filled with affection.

“Always,” they whispered.

Wade smiled, tightening his hold on them slightly as he turned his attention back to the movie. “Sleep tight, babe. I’ll keep Gosling and all those pesky feels at bay,” he whispered, his voice filled with love.

“Alright, time for the fun part,” Wade said, shaking the bottle of cough syrup enthusiastically, the liquid inside sloshing against the glass. He approached the bed with all the seriousness of a doctor ready to perform a major operation. “Open wide, sweetheart,” he instructed, holding up a spoon filled to the brim with the sticky liquid.

Y/n gave him a suspicious look, eyeing both Wade and the syrup. “Wade, do you even know how much to give me?” they asked, their voice skeptical.

Wade squinted at the bottle, turning it around a few times as if the instructions might magically reveal themselves to him. “Of course I do!” he declared with exaggerated confidence. “It says right here, ‘enough to knock out a bear, but not enough to call poison control.’ Totally safe. Trust me, I’m practically a doctor,” he added, giving a thumbs-up.

Y/n groaned, rubbing their forehead. “Why do I feel like I should be worried right now?”

“Because you’re a rational person,” Wade said, “but also because you clearly don’t appreciate the finesse of my medical expertise. Now, come on. Down the hatch! It’ll make you feel better. And I’ll even give you a kiss after. The good kind, not the peck-on-the-forehead kind.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, though the effect was somewhat lost under the mask.

Y/n sighed, their shoulders slumping in resignation. “You better make it a good one,” they muttered before reluctantly opening their mouth. Wade brought the spoon to their lips, his hand surprisingly steady as he carefully fed them the cough syrup.

“There we go. That’s my brave little patient,” Wade cooed, setting the spoon aside once they swallowed the syrup, their face contorting in disgust at the bitter taste.

“Ugh, that’s awful,” y/n said, shuddering. Wade gave an exaggerated nod of sympathy.

“Yeah, no one said getting better was gonna taste like chocolate cake. But fear not!” He leaned in dramatically,“Time for the promised reward.”

He gently pressed his lips against theirs, his kiss soft and lingering, full of affection. Y/n melted into the kiss, their earlier annoyance dissipating. When he pulled away, Wade wiggled his eyebrows again. “See? Told ya it’d be worth it.”

Y/n smiled, their cheeks flushed—not just from the fever. “Okay, maybe it was,” they admitted, leaning back against the pillows.

Wade beamed, pulling the blanket up around them snugly. “Alright, you rest up. Doctor Wade prescribes plenty of fluids, a lot of cuddles, and maybe some more of those kisses—strictly for medicinal purposes, of course.”

Y/n chuckled, closing their eyes as they felt the exhaustion beginning to pull them under. “Thanks, Wade,” they murmured.

“Anything for you, babe,” Wade replied, his voice softening as he brushed a gloved hand through their hair. He stayed by their side, watching over them protectively as they drifted off to sleep, his heart swelling with love for the person who somehow made his chaotic life feel a little more complete.

—-

“Alright, so once upon a time, there was a super sexy mercenary named Wade, and his equally sexy partner, who was sick in bed,” Wade began, sitting cross-legged beside y/n, holding a comic book as if it were a storybook. He cleared his throat dramatically, flipping open the comic book and pretending to read. “And Wade, being the hero he is, fought off the evil Fever Monster with nothing but his charm, rugged good looks, and the most amazing butt in all the land.”

Y/n laughed, though the laugh quickly turned into a cough. Wade immediately shifted closer, patting their back gently. “Hey, hey, careful there. The story’s supposed to heal you, not kill you,” he said, his voice softening. He paused until y/n caught their breath, then continued with renewed enthusiasm.

“So, where was I? Oh, right—the super sexy mercenary. So, Wade, with his trusty sidekick Blanket Burrito—you, by the way—decided to venture into the treacherous land of Sickville.” He waved his hand dramatically, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It was a terrible place, filled with snotty tissues, terrible coughs, and the worst of all… bitter cough syrup.”

Y/n smiled, resting their head back on the pillow as they watched Wade with tired but amused eyes. “Did they make it out?” they asked, playing along.

“Did they make it out?” Wade repeated, looking appalled. “Of course they did! Not only did they make it out, but they did it in style. Wade distracted the Fever Monster by showing off his amazing dance moves.” He wiggled his hips for emphasis, causing y/n to let out another chuckle. “And Blanket Burrito used their secret weapon—being absolutely adorable. The Fever Monster didn’t stand a chance.”

Wade flipped the comic book page dramatically, even though it was blank. “And then, after a lot of cuddles and some truly heroic soup-making attempts, they defeated the Fever Monster and lived happily ever after, cuddled up in bed with Wade never leaving their side.” He closed the comic book with a flourish, bowing his head toward y/n.

Y/n smiled, their eyes beginning to droop as exhaustion set in. “Sounds like a good ending,” they murmured, their voice barely audible.

Wade’s expression softened behind the mask. He reached over, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from their forehead. “The best ending,” he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to their temple. “And, spoiler alert, there’s a sequel. It involves more cuddles, more ridiculous stories, and a very stubborn mercenary who refuses to leave your side.”

Y/n closed their eyes, their lips curving into a small smile. “Can’t wait,” they whispered, already drifting off.

Wade settled down beside them, his voice dropping to a low, comforting murmur. “Sleep tight, my love. I’ll be right here, ready to fight off any more Fever Monsters that try to mess with you. You’re stuck with me, y/n.”

——

Wade burst into the bedroom, music blasting from his phone. “I heard the best cure for a fever is… a dance party!” He started doing his best (or worst) dance moves, flailing his arms and shaking his hips. Y/n watched from the bed, trying not to laugh too hard, but the ridiculous sight of Wade’s limbs moving in ways that should defy physics was too much. “Wade, you’re ridiculous,” they muttered, but they couldn’t help the smile spreading across their face.

He spun around dramatically, pointing both fingers at y/n. “C’mon, you know you wanna join me. I’m breaking out all my best moves—look, it’s the sprinkler!” He mimicked a sprinkler, spinning in slow, exaggerated circles. Y/n shook their head, their voice still hoarse. “Maybe when I’m not dying of a fever.”

Wade pouted, stopping his sprinkler dance. “Aw, but you look like you’re already feeling better! Just a little shimmy?” He hopped onto the bed, careful not to jostle them too much. “Fine, fine, I’ll just dance for both of us.” He turned the music up a little, starting to moonwalk across the bed, his socks sliding comically over the blanket.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, their eyes watering slightly from the effort. Wade looked over at them, his face lighting up at the sound. “There it is! Laughter—nature’s best medicine. Right after dance parties and questionable amounts of orange juice, of course.” He flopped down next to them, still bopping his head to the beat of the music.

“You’re impossible,” y/n murmured, shaking their head, but their smile remained.

Wade grinned, leaning closer. “Impossible is my middle name. Well, technically, it’s Winston, but let’s not get into that right now.” He wrapped an arm around y/n, pulling them gently against his side. “You know, you could just sit here and let me do all the work. You get all the fun of a dance party without the sweating part.”

Y/n snuggled against him, their body feeling heavy with exhaustion but comforted by his warmth. “Thanks, Wade,” they whispered, their eyelids growing heavier.

“Anything for you, my sick little dance partner,” Wade whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of their head. He reached over to turn the volume down, the music fading into the background as he settled in beside them. “Rest up, babe. We’ll have a proper dance-off when you’re feeling better. Spoiler alert: I’m totally winning.”

And as Wade quietly hummed along to the fading music, they felt the warmth of his love and care surround them, making even the fever seem a little less daunting.

As the day came to an end, y/n lay back against the pillows, feeling drained but grateful. Wade was sitting on the edge of the bed, his mask pulled halfway up, feeding them spoonfuls of ice cream. The cold sweetness helped soothe their sore throat, and the warmth of Wade’s presence made everything feel a little more bearable.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this whole taking-care-of-me thing,” y/n said, their voice still raspy but filled with affection. Wade’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, a glimmer of tenderness shining through his usual bravado.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’m still a badass mercenary. But for you, I guess I can be a nurse every now and then.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual. “Love you, even when you’re all gross and sick.”

Y/n chuckled weakly, their eyes fluttering closed as they savored the simple, intimate moment. “Love you too, Wade,” they whispered, their voice barely audible.

Wade shifted closer, placing the empty ice cream cup on the nightstand before wrapping an arm around y/n, pulling them gently into his side. “You know, you’re kind of ruining my reputation,” he murmured, his tone playful. “If anyone finds out that I’m capable of this much mushy, lovey-dovey stuff, I’ll be out of the mercenary business in no time.”

Y/n snuggled into his warmth, a small smile playing on their lips. “Your secret’s safe with me,” they muttered sleepily.

“Good,” Wade replied, resting his chin on top of their head. He could feel the rise and fall of their breathing as they started to drift off, the steady rhythm bringing him a sense of peace he rarely experienced.

He looked down at y/n, his heart swelling with love and protectiveness. “You just focus on getting better, okay?” he whispered, his voice losing some of its usual playfulness. “I’ve got you. Always.”

Y/n gave a small nod, already half-asleep. “Always,” they echoed softly, their voice a mere whisper.

Wade stayed there, holding them close as the room grew quiet. The only sounds were the gentle hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of the blankets as y/n shifted in their sleep. He watched over them, his heart full, feeling more content than he ever thought possible.

“Sleep tight, my love,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to their forehead before settling in beside them. The chaos of the world outside didn’t matter, not when he had this—these quiet moments with the person he loved more than anything.

And as the night wore on, Wade stayed right there, his arm wrapped protectively around y/n, ready to fight off any fever monsters or bad dreams that dared to come their way. For now, all that mattered was that they were together, safe and sound in each other’s arms.

[readerstories]

Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4935

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH. 

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut. 

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it. 

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it. 

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself on your feet in seconds. 

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie. 

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak. 

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed. 

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands.  The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you. 

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers. 

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one. 

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else. 

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders. 

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock. 

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side. 

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole. 

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs. 

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him. 

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down. 

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together. 

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin. 

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it. 

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

[jaaklops]

so. the s2 intro sure is something huh

i was rewatching it and i found a LOT of symbolism in just the shots alone and im not good at analyzing so be warned

spoilers for s2 act 1 ahead! now you’ve been warned for that too

so first we start off with vi and jinx. vi rubs off the tattoo on her cheek or smudges something on it; she’s losing herself/her real self is buried in the grief and anger she feels after losing jinx during the battle, and now losing caitlyn. vi remains sitting, lingering in her emotions, while jinx stands up, and i read this as her standing up to be the new symbol zaun needs like sevika told her. vi, with her head down, is left behind while it focuses on jinx

new shot to ekko. he’s still. not moving. he’s off in the distance, not really involved at the time. he is standing in the other side of where jinx was,, maybe this signifies how far apart they are now??

second picture, he’s more active, he’s up front. it doesn’t seem like hes a major part right now but when things start to pick up he’s going to be involved

i honestly don’t know about this one but if you have any clue than do assist

cut to viktor. he’s in a cloak, picking up and holding a plain white mask. he’s becoming this god like figure who can heal the suffering (those who don’t show their true faces..the mask?) and he believes this is his new destiny. there’s light from above

later in the intro he is about to put on the mask/looking more closely at it. by now the light is gone, and it’s only coming from the mask. maybe he puts all his motivation into taking the suffering away from these people and that’s all he can see..and then jayce steps in.

(jayce/viktor’s arcs are still gonna be close together even though viktor leaves)

cut to ambessa. her face is covered by darkness and its overall just a bit dim. she’s holding a black rose and black petals are behind her. she makes no move to pick them up, instead leaving the mess for someone else. she planned the attack at the memorial in secret, and she gives power to caitlyn when in reality she’s the one pulling the strings.

in this she’s relaxed, and it looks suspiciously similar to a painting i’ve seen before but i DON’T KNOW WHICH ONE omg

cut to caitlyn. she’s almost entirely shrouded in darkness, with the exception of a bit of light in front of her face. she looks down, away from it, and she looks almost annoyed by it—her spiral into madness(i think we can call it that?)

her back is facing what looks like a curtain, and then she looks up, as if facing an unseen crowd, much more pulled together than what she was just a second ago. signifies her pulling herself together to lead piltover.

assuming it’s a stage though, shouldn’t she be at the front?

it’s very…very. that the shot of ambessa and this shot of caitlyn were put right next to each other ykyk

gonna be so honest i have no idea what this one could mean…very vague

intimidating shot of ambessa holding a black rose—the rose is the focus, while ambessa’s face is blurred. perhaps symbolizes piltover and how they’re in ambessa’s hands, not whoever the piltovians think is leading them. of course they don’t really know that, and they probably won’t until later in the season

MELLL ok for a while i too wondered what some of that even meant but then i was like WAIT.

in the first picture mel is surrounded by hands we only see in shadows. this is maybe to communicate the pressure mel feels from her mother and how it’s closing in on her all at once/she’s struggling to come to terms with everything thats happened, and now she has to deal with ambessa scheming and she wants to dismantle it, since she knows first hand just how ambessa is and she doesn’t want piltover to face the same fate

in the second picture, she’s breaking free from the hands around her and standing up for herself/fighting back

in the third picture she finds herself where ambessa once was. there’s much more light here, and the black rose (maybe still symbolizing piltover?) lays beside her. the black petals ambessa left behind are going away with the wind..l ambessa is defeated

cut to jinx again. she’s becoming fully realized as the new symbol of zaun, one that neither vander nor silco could be. waving the flag even though it looks just a tad too big for her

pretty self explanatory. caitvi’s arc

unless?

in the first picture it almost looks like vi’s staring into a mirror but no, they’re standing right in don’t of each other. neither vi nor caitlyn can see each other eye to eye, with both of each other’s emotions flying

they come to embrace but they almost seem to be thrown apart by an invisible force or pulled away from each other. so close to understanding each other but so far at the same time

ok now this i LOVE this one. see on another post that the second picture is a reference to macbeth and i just MWAH.

also pretty self explanatory..caitlyn’s arc

first picture, she’s spiraling absolutely losing her shit. pretty close to what we saw in act 1 except we were never showed it to this degree. a mental picture. she’s trying to pull everything together so she can be the leader she’s been appointed to be but she just can’t

second picture is said macbeth reference. also symbolic to her being blinded by her tunnel vision of revenge. she’s grieving you guys :(

third picture, her eyes are open and she’s looking at us like she knows something she didn’t before. it’s a realization and it’s definitely gonna be something surprising

—

hoo boy that was a doozy

honestly guys i do not know how to analyze well so i will say now that this sucked☠️but its been bouncing around in my head for a little so maybe someone can see this and make something wayyyy better with it

and besides its early in the season so this is probably all wrong😭

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

RANDOM Headcanons: Buying make-up shenanigans

Warnings ⚠ none

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Andre, Konig, Gaz, Horangi, Nikolai

Has "can figure everything out" attitude and confidently enters a store just to get lost in it.

Browses for hours, gets mad when he can't decide, then gets distracted by another item. Rinse and repeat.

The cycle continues until he snatches a sales person, or a manager suspects him of stealing, asks tons of questions, ends up buying himself lipgloss (smells like coconut)

There is just too much stuff in the store, it gets him overwhelmed.

Tries to tactically question you about makeup, gives up and snoops through your bags.

Eventually buys some more "stuff" (gets himself different smelling lipbalms and lipglosses) and gets you something you already have.

Admits what he was doing and drags you back to the store with him.

Bonus: The sales people there are sweating upon his arrival. Even the trainee learnt the makeup brands, just by staying next to Price and listening as he asks his question. And he asks, asks questions - even about the ingredients.

Baby boy loves sparkles and the smell of makeup. The salesmen don't like him that much.

He knows what you like, however he is not permitted to shop alone. Why? His toxic trait is that: he buys in bulk.

You learnt that the hard way, after he came home with 27 eyeshadow pallets.

Expiration dates who?

Has a mascara from 7 years ago. Refuses to throw it away. Only does so, after you show him a documentary about eye infection.

Please take a moment to envision how tall and scary he looks in the makeup aisle, standing behind you like a creepy statue, dull on black, with his balaclava. I just giggled.

Insist on paying for everything ( didn't say anything about Price, because there is no insisting - he just pays. Ghost, at least pretends he will let you pay.)

Despises the blackhead mask. Did it once, regretted his life choices.

Experimenting king.

He is the dude who will visit a store, several times, no matter where he is at and buy whatever is new, shiny and cool.

Loves giving you his makeup finds and watching you apply/wear them.

Plays with your brushes a lot. ( They are just so soft and fluffy)

Bonus: Buys skincare for you and the team. Forces his team in spa day retreats.

Definitely knows what to buy.

He knows your makeup, especially if you live together.

Gets lost in the brushes sections and touches everything fluffy. (Don't let him shop with Soap)

Smells everything and if he wants to try something new, buys whatever smells best.

Compares prices online, if a salesperson is mean to him, buys the cheaper stuff and returns back to the store. (Petty boy)

Prefers more matte and glossy options, rather than sparkles.

You already know imma gonna say it. But if you think people get scared of Ghost in a store, you should see them around König.

Can he wear civilian clothes and no mask. Yes. Does he. Sometimes. If he feels like it.

You reassure every sales person that he is with you and he is no a threat.

König in a makeup store is like a kid around new shiny things. Touches everything.

Wants to buy everything.

"No, I don't need this" and "Put it back" are your go to phrases.

Does not enter tight stores after a shelf incident.

If you shop for hours he may make friends with the staff and even help them with the heavy lifting. (lil show-off 👑)

Gets shifty easily, so you better have Horangi nearby or be located near a food court.

Steals shit. Not because he has to, but because he can.

Definitely goes shopping alone, or uses you as a mule for his stolen goods.

Absolute creature when it comes to makeup sponges. Tiny, squishy and come in different shapes and colors.

Has a collection of them.

Sample king (loves free shit, espcially of expensive products), but has a deep appreciation of the tiny samples. Keeps them as another collection.

Lost af

Buys whatever the makeup girl tells him to buy.

He will try to figure out your makeup, after trying solo shopping and will buy some stuff. Not incompetent at all.

Hates the stores. Sales people continuously snuck up on him and talk. Nikolai is not a fan.

Sorry, but he has a special place saved for hatred for every store where he has to socialize.

Has enough opinions on products to need any external ones.

Will buy you makeup as a gift, but that's it.

Don't drag him to a store, ever.

Makeup judge. Buys only brands he trusts and ignores the rest.

Goes with you and glares at the sales people, who try to make you buy more products.

Buys his lipbalm at a grocery store to avoid sales pitches.

Huge on skin care and hair products, which he orders online.

Loves when people stare at you at the store, always puts a hand around your waist. "Yup,she is with me" attitude (one of the main reasons on why he shops with you)

[lucifermorningstxr]

Very little on this Earthly plane made Lucifer truly nervous, but Chloe being alone in the same room as Kinley was certainly one of them. He'd left her with a brush of his hand, but he wished he'd done so much more as he sat with Eve in the observation room as instructed. He had to be consistent in his temperance of his girlfriend to keep her at bay as he focused entirely on the Detective's interaction with that monster. It was ironic how Lucifer saw himself as evil incarnate, yet what Kinley had done was far worse than anything the modern-day Devil would ever even dream of doing, and that scared him even more. Nonetheless, he had promised to sit and stay like a good Devil as the professional handled business. That didn't mean his mind wasn't wildly wondering though, but it meant all he could do was watch.

At first, things seemed to be par for the course, as far as interrogating imprisoned psychopathic priests was concerned. The way Chloe stuck up for Lucifer, in spite of anything in their past, and did so with her whole chest, made him smile from ear to ear. It was almost like something of a visualisation of the conversation they had just had. She was the first human in so long to really acknowledge his divinity in a positive way, and in that moment, he felt less evil that he had in millennia. But the moment Kinley mentioned the prophecy, an already tuned-in Lucifer turned the world around him off completely. He felt straight back into a Devilish mindset, his head tilted slightly to truly take everything in.

Of course, the wackjob Priest knew the Bible front and back. He knew about Adam and Eve well enough to put two and two together, but was he really going to use all of that ancient information to spin some manipulative tale for the Detective? Lucifer felt his heart sink as the realisation that everything they'd just worked on could just as easily go out the window, all because of a vindictive priest. And even though his first instinct was to storm in there and put a stop to it by any means necessary, that wasn't what the Detective had asked for, nor would it redeem him in the eyes of anyone involved. So, despite a giddy Eve stoking his flames beside him, he simply stayed put and clenched his jaw.

'When the devil walks the Earth and finds his first love, evil shall be released.' What bullshit. At least, that's what Lucifer thought to himself. He wanted to believe so badly that he wasn't the monster everyone had painted him out to be, and prophecy or not, he'd be damned as the souls he once ruled if he'd sit idly by and let some bullshit prophecy come to fruition. It didn't matter how ancient, how divine, if his Dad had written the thing himself; Lucifer had free will, and he would contain the evils of the world if it was the last thing he'd ever do.

As the Detective emerged into the hallway, he nearly sprung up from his chair to go greet her. Luckily though, he remembered to lead Eve along, his hand in hers as he did feel a bit of a protective urge over her in the moment too. If Kinley was to be believed whatsoever, he not only had his sights on the two partners, but on Eve as well. Sure he wasn't in love with her anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't care about her at all. Regardless, he'd lead her out into the hallway where the Detective was waiting. Mustering his best attempt at a smile displayed on shaky lips, he resisted every urge to grab her up the second he saw her there.

Instead, he simply asked. "You didn't think we'd be able to behave, did you, Detective?" Always the one to mask trauma with humour, deep down, Lucifer just wanted to break down.

Lucifer was doing everything in his power to demonstrate what he'd said in the garage to Chloe. While he never lied, he also knew the value of his actions, especially to the Detective. He could say things with the fullest honest intent of following through, but he was a man of swift action. He wanted to make it visibly clear to Chloe where he stood while not freezing Eve out completely, either. Again, he didn't hate Eve by any means, but they'd outgrown one another, and he wanted to really make sure things stayed on the up with the Detective. Even the car ride over to the jail was less awkward than it could've been, with the time being filled with the regalia of the partnership's past with Kinley. Leaving out the bit about the poisoning was the silently-agreed-upon best option too, as the pair had already put it past them and were trying to continue to do so with these jailbird meetings, but the detail was trivial vanity when the actual crimes at hand were accounted for. Lucifer even backed the Detective's comment about jail being his punishment, something that even yesterday he'd have let Eve convince him wasn't enough. This was how Earth's rules were. Who says old Devils can't learn new tricks after all?

As Chloe pulled him aside at the prison, he nodded in agreement to her instructions. "You're the boss, Detective!" He'd quip with a mischievous smirk before giving her his most sincere eyes. "I'm here to protect you. Forger the Devil on your shoulder, today I'm just backup. But I will come in if things go haywire. I know you well enough by now to pick up on your cues. Go on, Detective. I'll keep Eve behaved, go do your thing like only you can." He again brushed her hand, smiling with encouragement before stepping back to lead Eve into the observation room. He knew the stakes were high, but he also feared for the Detective being anywhere near that vile excuse for a man, even if this was a legitimate jail. So he'd do as she asked, but the second she needed him, he was ready to act.

[akkivee]

I NEED HELP PICKING MY JAW OFF THE FLOOR

[foxgloveinspace]

People jumping ship cause of the new masks is very ahhhh. Telling. Tbh.

[hersweetrevenge]

Hi there! <3 I re-watched Halloween Ends yesterday because I was upset and I needed Corey to save me, lmfao, and I wanted to ask you something that I've been wondering about. So, I have no way of getting the novelisation of the movie anytime soon, and you're kinda my only frame of reference for it; so I hope you don't mind me asking you this. When Corey is on his revenge killing spree, he kills those bullies at the mechanic shop. And Ronald is there. And then Ronald comes out to help the kids because of Terry. And only because of that. So, that makes me wonder... Did Corey plan on killing Ronald after he was done with the kids? Is that something that was elaborated on in the novel? Because I keep wondering about that, since Corey pretty much killed everyone that ever wronged him during that night, and Ronald was right there; but Corey didn't kill him (or didn't get the chance to, at least). Terry shot him by accident. But Corey killed his mom, of course. So, it'd make sense if he had at least planned on going after Ronald as well; even though he never actively wronged Corey (only passively, if we look at the way he just sat and watched while Joan abused Corey right in front of him, for example). But more so for completion's sake, y'know? They were on generally good terms, after all. I mean, in your latest post about the novel, you quoted that Ronald is "the loveliest thing" in Corey's life, according to Rohan. So, that makes me wonder all the more. OH, and... I fought with myself to include this point, but anyway- Corey takes the mask off when Ronald comes to help the kids, so that Ronald can see his face and know it's him. And it clearly disarms Ronald immediately and is the reason why Terry accidentally shot him instead of Corey, because he shielded him instinctively. Thus, I keep wondering if Corey meant for that to happen or if he took the mask off in order to assure Ronald that he wasn't actually in danger... It's such a seemingly insignificant thing that I'm thinking about far too much, but it's been bothering me that I don't know, and I was curious if the novel said anything about that at all, or if they just brushed over it there, as well. If they did, I'll just make up my own mind, of course, hdsfdjkfsk Anyway, I'm very sorry for rambling on about this, gosh! I love your blog(s) and everything you have to say about Corey and Rohan, you're awesome!!! Thank you for your detailed posts all the time, they keep me going! Take care! <3

ahhh hi !! thank you so much for sending this ask !! i love talking about this sort of thing more than anything lol and i’m sorry this took a little longer than i expected to reply, i was double checking like every ronald scene in the novel and cross-referencing that with behind-the-scenes details from making of, and re-watching the movie (i didn’t have to do that last one but like you, i needed emotional support from corey too 💗)

WARNING for discussions about (canon-typical) violence, murder, child abuse, abusive households, mentions of suicide and self-harm, and spoilers for the novelisation.

TL;DR – the novelisation does not elaborate on corey's intentions in any huge amount of detail, but it does provide some insight into a few different possibilities for ronald and corey’s relationship and what that would mean for corey's intentions.

general relationship

the novelisation actually gives some really specific details about the cunningham-prevo backstory, but also leaves a lot of aspects vague too.

joan married ronald when corey was 15, and she made it clear to ronald that he would "remain firmly on the sidelines when it came to corey's upbringing" which ronald "gladly" agreed to. so from the very beginning, ronald accepts he isn't going to be an active parent to corey, which maybe means he didn't believe he would do a good job anyway, or maybe he agreed it wasn't his place to parent corey in the same way joan does.

also, corey was already a teenager, he didn't need parenting in the same way a younger child would, which is partly why i think joan waited until corey was older to get remarried, because although being a single parent is difficult, she wouldn't want someone else in the picture as a father-figure for corey.

i don't personally see corey and ronald having a super close relationship, but there are multiple instances that show they are at least comfortable and familiar with each other (in line with what rohan said).

corey had a job before working for ronald, so we know ronald didn't have to give him a job. i hc that corey really wanted to do something stimulating instead of call centre work, and ronald agreed despite joan's grievances over it.

ronald doesn't seem too angry at him for being late, even though it is a regular occurrence (third time in a month).would he be so lenient on anyone who wasn't his stepson?

the gifting of the motorbike is a huge moment of course. that's a big gesture which, in the novelisation, also comes with some stilted bonding when ronald reminiscences that he used to "get laid [...], if you can believe it".

they have their united front moment over dinner when joan is trying to work a reaction out of them and neither gives her what she wants.

a smaller but still significant gesture is that corey uses dumbbells and a pull-up bar in his room to workout, which ronald bought him for christmas. very much feels like an attempt to help corey rebuild his self-confidence.

honestly though, rohan's comment about ronald being the "loveliest" thing in corey's life is probably right, especially as corey's life has been incredibly insular. as the town pariah with an abusive mom, his stepdad being cool about him being late for work is probably one of the best parts of his day.

but then on the other hand, there are moments which do not characterise their relationship very well, including multiple instances of ronald "ignoring" joan's abusive behaviour and not intervening.

to reiterate a previous point: ronald very willingly obliges joan's wishes of not "interfering" with corey's upbringing. her unfounded criticism and distrust of doctors, the school system and anyone other than her taking care of corey should have been a huge red flag (if, of course, any of that behaviour could have been inferred prior to their marriage).

ronald's passivity at being side-lined by his wife, allowing her to continue an unhealthy and unbounded relationship with corey.

when joan is berating corey for "sneaking around" and seeing allyson (the slap/kiss scene), she questions ronald as to whether he knew about the motorcycle, to which ronald stays completely out of it and doesn't answer her, despite her being furious with corey.

however it is a really difficult family dynamic to navigate, with so much nuance. i'm reluctant to say if ronald is a "good" or "bad" stepdad, or whether their father-son relationship is "good" or "bad", simply because their circumstances are so trying and complex. yes, joan has abused corey for a long time, but that abuse also extends to ronald in many ways too, resulting in him allowing (or enabling) joan's abusive behaviour in a flawed attempt to maintain the (toxic) status quo of the household.

did corey intend to kill ronald?

like i mentioned, there isn't any elaboration about corey's intentions in the novel, either through narration or extra dialogue. the scene happens almost exactly as it does in the film, with a few alterations and added background details. it's the surrounding details and plot differences that change my opinion.

i think movie!corey would have killed ronald if he had to. he knew ronald would be at home or at the yard, both of which were places he intended to go (to kill momma and the bullies). i'm not sure he had the same desire to kill ronald as he does the others, especially if he sees ronald in a good light, but to tie up loose ends he might do what is "necessary". i do find it very interesting that he lets ronald see his face though, and i can't decide if that is as a reassurance (he wouldn't kill ronald and ronald should know that) or because it just didn't matter (he's going to kill ronald so even if he sees corey's face, he won't be a liability to worry about).

however, i don't think novel!corey intended to kill ronald. in the novel, despite all of the extensive set-up of joan being abusive and corey's repressed desires to hurt her (and arguably ronald), there's no suggestion that corey planned to go back home as part of his spree and kill joan. if he wasn't going to kill joan after everything she did, i really don't think he'd have plans to kill ronald.

that's not to say there aren't implication in the novel that corey would hurt ronald too. there's a scene after the slap/kiss where corey can hear joan and ronald arguing about him, and once they've gone to bed corey gets a knife and stands outside their room, but ultimately doesn't go in. it isn't specified whether he wants to hurts just joan, or ronald as well.

michael's mask

ahh so when i was re-reading the scrapyard massacre in the novel to try and answer whether corey letting ronald see that it is him was a way of corey saying "you don't have to be scared of me" or even "you should be scared of me", i've come to a different conclusion about the mask.

“Who did this to you?” [Ronald] asked. “Him,” Margo said, pointing across the street. Ronald turned to find Corey twenty feet away on the other side of the fence, pulling Michael’s mask over his head. "Corey?" he muttered in disbelief.

the way the novel reads, i think that when corey puts the mask on in front of ronald, it's the first time he puts the mask on at all. if that is the case, it adds a whole other level to the transition between corey's kills as himself (or as the scarecrow) and his kills "as michael".

earlier, billy's sees "corey's shape wearing his prevo jumpsuit". it's fair enough that billy would assume it's corey without seeing his face, because they know that corey is there, but there's no mention of the mask either.

then, the way it describes ronald seeing corey put on the mask doesn't really indicate that corey was making sure ronald saw it was him. he's already "pulling on the mask" by the time ronald looks over at him; he wasn't waiting for ronald to look he was already doing it.

alternatively, the movie shows corey very deliberately stood there, waiting for ronald to see him and recognise him before he puts the mask on. i'm leaning towards it not being a gesture of reassurance but more of a last show of humanity to someone corey cares about -- "it's me, and i appreciate that you always treated me well, but this is the monster they've made me into".

in both versions, ronald jumps up to stop terry shooting corey. whether he was intending to shield corey or was just getting up to try and talk terry down, i think it says a lot about ronald as a character. he has been very passive this whole time, especially in scenes that take place at home, but in this moment he takes an authorative position to try and diffuse the situation. there's a scared kid with a gun, and his own stepson who he's starting to think might have done something awful, but this doesn't have to continue -- they can talk about it and calm down and whatever it is that has happened can be worked out.