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lightofthemoonglow · 4 years ago

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chapter three - it’s coming for me through the trees.

Summary: As their return to Arkham draws nearer and nearer, things start getting rather intense. And then...it finally happens. But of course, things can not be easy.

This is chapter three of ‘Howl’, a fic about how the massacre leads to an intensely intimate and kinda kinky relationship.

Note: this chapter has smut. And what could be seen as blood kink. This chapter is...there is a lot.

I highly recommend listening to ‘Turning Page’ by Sleeping at Last and ‘The Night We Met’ by Lord Huron during the first and last scenes. Shout out to the lovely @melodiesihear for the song recs

Also @deviantdrkate helped so much with the logistics of the first scene that it’s unreal. I love you so much, bro

series masterlist

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be stupid!”

You’re glaring at Herbert as he leans against the table, finally looking a bit weary for once. There had been an explosion too close to the med tent for comfort. Nothing special, but Herbert had rushed over to try and grab some of his day’s notes and had been caught up in a second blast. He had been thrown down and across the tent and had tried to walk it off, before realizing that he was bleeding. Lacerations to his abdomen. Not long after that, Herbert had begun to stagger.

“Goddammit, Herbert, do you have any idea how close you came to being seriously hurt? Or worse?”

For once, his blood is all over your hands as you frantically try to stop the bleeding from the largest wound while you wait for someone to come back. You don’t want to risk Herbert’s life by looking for supplies, but all of the other medics are out there, and you’re practically alone in the tent with your friend’s (or is he more?) blood all over your hands.

It’s warm, viscous and reminds you of that night in the morgue.

No one is coming to help. So, you remove your outer shirt, breaking off some of the buttons in your haste and hand it to Herbert. “Keep it pressed where it's the worst. I’ll be right back.” You glare at him one more time before you go over to the supply cabinet, which is on its side now. Your hands leave blood on everything you touch, even after you try and wipe them off on your pants. The air is cool tonight and in your tank top, you should feel something, but right now you’re running too hot to care.

More blood washes over your hands when you take back your shirt, though the bleeding has already started to slow. That’s good, that’s good, it’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay, you tell yourself over and over again and maybe one day, you’ll believe it.

“Stupid son of a bitch.” Your voice has no malice in it, only the threat of a sob, as if you were pushing back unneeded sorrow. After all, Herbert is alive. He’ll remain that way, if things go right.

As you kneel next to him, pulling the shirt away from his abdomen, you look into his eyes and there is a moment of understanding. Your foreheads come together and his hand rests on the back of your head.

The cut on his mouth makes his lips taste like blood and it just makes you kiss him harder. Herbert’s fingers twist into your hair, practically smashing his face against yours. It’s wrong, it’s stupid, but you can’t stop yourselves. This means that you don’t have to say it.

(Don’t leave me

I won’t.)

The idea of it being ‘and then there were two’ makes you feel sick. It’s supposed to be the three of you down here and then the three of you returning home. It’s not going to feel right for it to be reduced to a pair, even if it is the original duo. Herbert has been a part of your lives for less than a year, but he’s a Part of Things now.

The kiss is starting to become all teeth and tongue when you feel it. A surge, almost, of blood washing onto you, soaking your shirt and even some of your pants. It appears that the situation is a lot more dire than you had initially assumed. You pull back, looking horrified.

For a moment, all Herbert can see is his blood smeared on and around your mouth.

So, you take a deep breath and gently push him onto his back. “I’ve got you. It’s alright.” You’re not sure who you’re talking to. You or Herbert.

Of course, he angles himself to watch what you’re about to do. A few months ago, this would have been unthinkable. But his reagent, the modified form he’s been giving you, has made this possible. This is the first test of his work and he’s honored that he’s the first subject.

As you try to hold the direst wound closed, your fingers slip inside of him and your eyes meet. It’s hideously intimate. Even through the gloves, you can feel the warmth of his insides, how alive he is for that brief moment before you yank your hand away.

Herbert grabs your wrist, steadying your hands as they begin to twitch. Your eyes are wide, there is blood all over you, your hands nearly entirely red and (his) blood smeared around your mouth like cheap lipstick. Your clothes are nearly black with blood in some spots and there is blood in your hair. Even your ID tags are flecked with scarlet.

As you stitch him up, Herbert hardly notices the pain. He’s fascinated by the sight of you stitching up his abdomen, how it makes you even bloodier.

(you look good in red)

By the time you’re done with him, his lesser wounds dressed, Dan is back, and Herbert is ready to be on his feet and ready to be of use and you’re caught up in the adrenaline rush that comes with moments like these, springing to your feet, eyes bright as you show off your (perfect, though he’ll never tell you) work on Herbert.

Dan doesn’t ask why blood is smeared around your mouth.

For once, things align nicely on the day of Dan’s 25th birthday.

There is time for a small celebration. Francesca brings Crema Volteada and Torta de Chocolate

for all of you and you build a bonfire for everyone to sit around. There are beers and Inca Kolas in equal measure, though Herbert sticks to water. You take half of his confections after he stops eating them, devouring them with gusto. It’s been a long time since any of you have been able to enjoy life like this. Dan’s smiling brightly during the birthday song.

Even Herbert relaxes somewhat. Not enough to accept a hug during the flurry of hugs that just happen, but he’s sitting by the fire with everyone else.

As the night goes on, someone brings out a radio and someone else digs out some tapes. That’s when it really becomes a party. The beer is flowing freely and at one point, you grab Francesca’s hands and the two of you are dancing around the fire.

Herbert is watching spectacle, his gaze seemingly as dispassionate as ever. But Dan knows him well enough by now. Though, more importantly, he can see Herbert’s gaze follow every movement you make.

“You should just go for it.” Dan claps a hand on Herbert’s shoulder like he’s his father. It nearly tips him over.

“Go for what?” Herbert turns to look at Dan, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb, Champ.” Dan is now the one looking at the people by the campfire, taking in the sound of laughter and the sight of whirling bodies. It feels like things are normal, like they used to be back home. He can almost imagine that Meg is there, which he knows is wrong. So he only indulges in the fantasy for a moment, picturing Meg being there with the others.

“Champ?” Herbert wrinkles his nose at the epithet.

There is another clap to the shoulder and this time, Herbert did wobble a bit, needing to right himself. “Herbert, it’s okay to admit that you-.”

“I don’t.” Herbert’s voice isn’t as harsh as it usually would be. “There is nothing to admit.”

But the expression on his face, even though it’s only there for a brief moment, as your eyes meet across the fire, is more than enough evidence to prove that he is lying.

iii

The tips of your fingers graze the scar across Herbert’s abdomen. “Can I…?” you whisper, your voice hardly audible over the sound of rain hitting the roof and windows. This time, the two of you are tangled up in your bed, the door to your room locked, so Dan can’t walk in and ask questions. It hasn’t happened yet, but no one wants to risk anything.

(Dan has seen the shape of two bodies under the covers through slightly opened doors. But he hasn’t said anything.

It’s none of his business)

Herbert nods, even though he knows what it would mean. The two of you would have to come out from under the blankets, into the meager light provided by the moon. The darkness has been a shield for months and yet, there is only a little hesitation. Within a few moments, he’s on his back, the blanket pushed to the side as you crouch between his legs, your fingers ghosting over your work.

“Did it hurt? Afterwards…” You look into his eyes, your own starting to become dark with emotions you dare not put a name to.

“A bit.” Herbert’s hand reaches out and grazes the mark left by the bullet that had grazed your leg. The wound of yours he had been able to dress. The touch makes you shudder and drop forward, hands going on either side of his body.

“Sorry.” You lower your head and your lips graze the scar that runs along his abdomen, an act of contrition. Herbert trembles and softly grabs you, flipping the two of you around.

“Are you ready to go home?” Herbert asks as his mouth dips down and you feel those soft, pink lips against the scar tissue that runs from clavicle to clavicle. His eyes are dark, hungry, piercing you to your core as he looks up at you. There is intent lingering in his gaze, but he’s holding back. Neither of you are ready for what’s lurking in the back of your minds.

“I think so. It’s going to be an adjustment.” You’re able to bend forward, your mouth softly pressing against the scar on his face. “We’ve just spent months in a war zone. Arkham might be too quiet.”

Herbert’s mouth twitches and then his lips are on the other scars on your chest, his body shifting a bit lower. “Doubtful,” he murmurs against the soft flesh of your breast, his breath ghosting over your already erect nipple. “We’ll adjust. All of us will.”

“So we’re all sticking together when we go home, huh?” You want to tease, but you can’t. Not when his mouth has moved to your throat, up and down the scar there.

“Yes.” Herbert's voice vibrates against your skin.

His mouth stays away from the scar on your face that night. It’s too much, there is no excuse tonight. So your mouths go everywhere else there is scarred skin, the two of you exploring each other in the dark.

The average medical student has zero near death experiences. The three former residents of 666 Darkmore are outliers and should not be counted.

At least this time, most of the blood on your isn’t yours. The new normal dictates that is a good thing. Though it is not calibrated for killing a man, which you had to do in order to get out of the field alive. You had needed to hack into a man’s neck with a machete, explaining a good deal of the blood on you. The rest of the blood had come from Dan, as the three medical students had been tangled up in an awkward three-way hug in the back of the truck that they had managed to hop onto. The ride into the nearest city had felt endless, but they had been able to get Dan to a hospital in time. He was going to be fine. In a few days, the three of you would be able to go home.

For now, Herbert and you will be staying in a motel room not far from the hospital where he was recuperating. Francesca is with him tonight, allowing Dan’s two closest friends to leave and try to get some sleep. Though both of you know that there is probably not going to be any sleep tonight

Once again, Herbert West and you return from a near-death experience together, covered in blood and leaning on each other. Though unlike last time, most of the blood isn’t yours and neither of you have received any new scars from this incident. In fact, both of you are hardly injured at all and Dan had been seriously hurt, a reversal from the last near-death experience.

Maybe it is time to stop having those.

All of your possessions are also with them this time, the various bags set on the motel room floor, save for the one with the iguana, which is put on the table, next to the TV. The three of you had decided to start keeping the important things packed up and ready to grab at all times when things had started to get worse, in case you needed to flee. Which meant that at least they had a change of clothes, plenty of papers and some books to read. There is only one bed, but that isn’t a problem. At least this one is designed for two people to share it, as opposed to your bed back home.

In the harsh light of the bathroom, you see yourself more clearly than you have in months. Bloody, tired, a little sad. The same old, same old. As you undress, you muse that it’ll be nice to be able to wear something other than slightly too large field-issued shirts and trousers. At least the boots were comfortable once you had broken them in. Though once again, your shirt is too bloody to ever wear again. Your bra is salvageable and since the once that you had been wearing during the last near-death experience had been slashed apart by a zombie wielding a scalpel, that is another win.

Once you’re topless in front of the mirror, you stare at your chest scars for a few moments, remembering the fear, the pain. And that you had somehow survived.. Though you know that someone, rather than something, was why you are here today.

When you turn your head, you can see that someone is staring at you, and he’s also half undressed.

The motel shower is smaller than the last one you had shared. Their bodies are practically pressed together from the moment Herbert joins you in there, his chest nearly against your back. Your heart is pounding even before you turn around and gesture for him to kneel, so you can get at the blood in his hair.

Herbert rests his head against your hip as you use the hotel shampoo to get the blood out of his hair. Your fingers rub against his scalp and it soothes him in ways he had never considered being possible. Gently, your fingers go under his chin and tilt his face up, so the washcloth can wipe away traces of the blood still splashed across his features.

You’re taking care of him tonight and he’s letting you. When he looks up at you and you see a hint of vulnerability in those beautiful eyes, you gently stroke his cheek once it’s clean of blood.

As if to thank you, his mouth presses against the scar on your outer thigh.

The bathroom lights are harsh, brilliant, intense, allowing both of you to see so much more detail. This isn’t like the times you've bathed together in the river or changed in front of each other. Herbert’s eyes didn’t drink in the sight of you in the river and you didn’t allow your gaze to linger when you saw him undressing. But right now, as his hands began to clean the dried blood from your chest, his gaze wasn’t impassive, indifferent.

It’s the same look he had given you that night when his mouth had been on the same scars that his soap covered hands are currently all over. Though unlike that night, his hands are soon all over you breasts, tentatively cupping them before you nod and then he’s frantically pawing, the bar of soap dropping to the floor of the shower. Your arms wrap around his neck and you arch her back, offering yourself to him. It’s only when you feel his erection press against your hip do both of you remember that you're in this shower for a reason. Herbert pulls away, his face flushing pink for a moment before he picks up the soap, using it on himself this time.

Something is going to happen once you get out of this shower. Both of you know it, and there is an equal mix of eagerness and trepidation at the mere thought. It’s what you’ve been inching towards for months, since Thanksgiving. That moment where your little game of mocking your roommate’s sex life had stopped being fun had set the wheels in motion. When you had moaned out his name instead of Dan’s, desire lacing your voice instead of mirth, both of you had been doomed. But this desire, despite its potential to take them places that you’ve never even dreamed of, also gives the other too much power. And neither of you wants to be the first to give in.

It would have been so easy to treat that little moment of desperate touching the way they had all the other incidents. Just brush it off and force yourselves to go on as normal. You had been able to move past those other incidents. But all of those other incidents had been before that night, before you had started to lean on each other in more ways than one. Before his lips had known the taste of your flesh and blood, before you had come to enjoy the feeling of his body against yours in the dark. Maybe without the events of the past eight months, you would have had a chance to stop yourselves from getting into the room’s one bed together, still damp from the shower. But that Pandora’s box had been opened and as hard as you could try, you would never be able to shut it again. Those tastes of intimacy have given both of you a craving that only the other can satiate.

However, your inexperience in certain matters keeps you from doing anything even after you get into the room's only bed, getting under the comforter and laying only a few hands apart. The comforter is thin and even though the light in the room is off, you can still see enough of each other to not be able to ignore that there is someone else in the bed. The mechanics of the act is something both of you are familiar with. That’s the easy part. But this is already fraught with emotions that neither of you have any idea how to handle.

Both of you move at the same time, hands reaching out and brushing together in the semi-darkness. You don’t hesitate before you push the comforter down and away from them, kicking it off the bed, as if to make a point. If this is going to happen, it is going to happen in the open. Now that you have nothing to cover yourselves up, nowhere to hide, your bodies come together quickly, bare skin pressed against bare skin.

You reach out and touch his face, your thumb stroking over the scar left by the laser drill. You sometimes have blurry dreams of that night, of those things holding Herbert down and all that had followed. While you had tried to help him, you had been no match for Hill’s minions and their superior strength. And in the end, Herbert had wound up saving you, rather than the other way around.

Your lips soon replace your thumb, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the mark, mimicking what you had done the first night you had shared a bed. That first time, it had been a simple brush of your lips against his skin. That had been for comfort, a reaction to the raw, fresh trauma of that night in the morgue. This kiss has intent, desire. It’s the prelude to something more.

The something more is initiated by Herbert, his mouth finding yours as his hands slide up your torso, his thumbs pressing against the side of your breasts. The kiss isn’t like the last one, a bloody frantic movement of mouths. This one is gentle, soft. Sweet, though neither of you dares to even think that word.

When you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth, it’s both a natural escalation and because you want to do something to burn out the warmth threatening to spread and take over your insides. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you think as you feel Herbert’s glasses slide up his face and against your own. It has never felt like this before and even though you know Herbert on a deeply personal level, has seen parts of him that you know no one has ever seen before and vice-versa, it shouldn’t feel any different just because it's him.

The same thoughts occur to Herbert as his hands greedily resume their fondling of your breasts. He enjoys the feeling of your warm skin, even the parts that are rough from scarring. What he feels as his hands explore your body is a cousin to the desire to consume. It’s a want that he’s felt and been able to repress before. But tonight, he allows himself to indulge in it, to indulge in the woman he has pressed up against him.

Both of you just allow yourselves to feel, for once. After all, tonight was another close call and a natural response to a brush with death is wanting to feel as alive as possible.

When you twined your legs with his, Herbert’s hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer. When his fingers tentatively ran along your slit, your fingers wrapped around his cock. Every step was taken together, as if the two of you were walking along a path, hand in hand.

“You are…” Herbert can’t find the words as he looms over you, between your spread legs. You are laid out before him, a feast for him to devour. He wants, he needs, to have you, but the magnitude of what he feels is almost threatening because of the power that it has over him, the power that it gives you.

You sit up and kiss him, your mouth wet and needy, the two of you tasting the same after spending what had felt like a millennium kissing. “Show me,” you whisper against his mouth and Herbert takes you into his arms after crossing his legs. You wrap your own legs around him as you settle onto his lap.

When he finally pushes himself inside of you, both of you have to muffle the little surprised noises that threaten to escape. This feels right, it feels like something both of you have been looking for has finally been found. Only neither of you had been aware that you had been searching for something until that very moment.

You fit together so well and every thrust breaks down the defenses that both of you have built up over the years. You have never felt this full, literally and metaphorically, no one has ever felt this good inside of you. It’s as if the two of you were made for each other. You cling to him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. It almost hurts, but Herbert likes it. His face is at your chest and his mouth once more worships those scars, making you whimper and clench around him. One of his hands goes between them, quickly finding your clit. “Mein Herz,” he says against your chest, his mouth practically able to feel your heartbeat as it quickens.

“Fuck, Herbert.” You say his name almost like a prayer, your voice thick with desire, raw and needy as you cry out in pleasure. Your grip tightens and it actually does start to hurt, but that just makes Herbert’s fingers and cock move faster. He wants you to unravel, fall to pieces and then he’ll put you back together.

In the past, no one has ever made you come during sex at all. You have never even come close to it before. It’s always been awkward, sometimes uncomfortable, even when you did everything the textbooks and magazines said to do. So when it hits you, this rush of pleasure that makes you feel like you’re at the beach and a powerful wave has knocked you down and dragged you under, threatening to drown you. You’re unable to process it for a few moments. The world whites out as you howl your pleasure, your hands now clawing at Herbert’s chest as he lays you on your back.

For a while, Herbert just remains still, watching as pleasure wracks your body. You are coming on his cock, he realizes through a haze of pleasure. He can feel your body’s reactions to the pleasure he gave you. And it makes him feel powerful in a whole new way, one that he’s never felt before. In a way that he wants to feel again. His body feels right here, it isn’t the usual crude flailing of limbs that is followed by silence and in the case of whoever he’s on top of, near stillness. You are like a live wire under him, your eyes closed and head thrown back as you express your pleasure, the only real word leaving your mouth being his name.

When your eyes snap open, they meet his. And in that moment, both of you realize oh that’s what this is all about, this is what all the fuss is over.

Grabbing your hair, Herbert kisses you fiercely, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he begins to move again, his hips moving faster, gripping yours tightly. Your foreheads are pressed together when the kiss is broken, Herbert not halting his pace, despite him being torn between continuing towards his climax and not wanting this to end.

Your hands go to each other’s faces, gently, as if the other is the most precious thing in the world. You are gasping, your voice stuttering and halting when you try to speak. When you start to sound almost pained, Herbert stops. But before he can ask you if you’re alright, you speak.

“I love you.” The words seem like they’re as much of a surprise to you as they are to him. Neither of you have ever heard it from someone that wasn’t a parent. Herbert has never said it in his life and you have only said it to friends and family. Never to someone you’re having sex with. But right now, it’s your only truth.

Because you actually do. The revelation comes after your declaration and you cling to him, afraid that he’ll see it in your eyes and leave.

Herbert does see it, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he kisses you again because he knows what he feels and this time, he knows he can’t lock it away. So when he says it back, it is when his mouth is practically still on your mouth. It’s so soft that you almost don't hear it, but you do and you can feel his mouth saying it.

As he nears his end, Herbert rolls onto his side, the two of you facing each other as his thrusts begin to lose rhythm. He cries out your name when he comes, spilling over your thighs and stomach.

But for once, neither of you mind the mess. Instead, you remain wrapped around each other, the two of you almost like one flesh as you drift off to sleep, your minds a jumbled mess but when decoded, your thoughts mean the same thing: this is home.

When Herbert wakes up the next morning, you are gone. The room is empty, save for himself. He feels...alone for a moment and the vulnerability actually stings this time. That just makes it worse, so he busies himself by getting ready for the day.

In the bathroom’s harsh light, Herbert can see the many vivid bruises left on his body. They’re all in the shape of your hand or fingers. He can see every place that you hung onto and it stirs a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

You return just as he finishes getting dressed, with a paper bag of food for each of you. Seeing each other in the harsh light of day makes both of you remember every moment of the night before. How both of you had been open, vulnerable, honest with each other in ways that no other person had even gotten close to.

“What?” You ask when the staring goes on for a moment too long. As if you hadn’t told him that you loved him in a voice half choked with sobs, half thick with desire. Your gaze becomes hard and Herbert assumes that you’re telling him to keep his mouth shut in regards to what had happened the night before. That it is to be another thing you two do not speak of.

And because he has no idea what he wants, too afraid to be honest with himself, Herbert goes with what he assumes you want. “Nothing,” he mutters, going back to his tie, as if it requires all of his attention.

The desire to speak up weighs down your tongue. You know that you should say something, tell him that it isn’t nothing. That you meant everything that you had said last night. But your pride keeps your mouth shut and you turn away, your jaw clenched as bile rises in your throat for a moment.

Both of you do their best to shrug it off. It’s fine, I didn’t even mean it, both of you think over and over, until it feels as close to the truth as possible.

Mein Herz - german for ‘my heart’

I apologize if this chapter got too groos

#herbert west x reader #herbert west imagine #horror fanfic #horror fanfiction #reanimator imagine #re-animator imagine

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lightofthemoonglow · 4 years ago

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Party, I'm gonna cry. I'd tag you if you hadn't already tagged me

Honestly,there are so many wonderful people that I struggled to narrow it down

@henerals/@hrbertwest @swatchdogs-andsodapop @melodiesihear @bisexual-horror-fan @tinalbion @jinxthequeergirl @mostfandomstrashcan @lady-of-glass-and-bone @someone-reanimated

onesmokinbabe:

poetic-fiasco:

theatrelove3000:

fablesrose:

kitkatd7:

voila-tout:

autumnrose40:

frickss75:

randomfandompenguin:

rainbowkisses31:

sweater-daddiesdumbdork:

stuckonjbbarnes:

laurieteddy:

Favorite Blogs Tag

I was tagged by @locke-writes! I love your blog and it’s always nice to see you in my notifications.

You’re supposed to tag 10 people but I did a few over that. I need to follow some more people honestly though because I tend to reblog from the same people. Anyway!

I’m tagging… @myriadimagines @alloftheimaginesblog @queenofthehairharrington @peeterparkr @peachybloomss @the-march-sisters @harrysleftchelseaboot @lovelylaurie @mr-billy-joel @brandonsflynn @hoegrove

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG! Some of my faves: @buckysmischief @captain-kelli @stevebucks @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @valkyriesryde @what-just-happened-bro @firefly-in-darkness @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @romaniansweetheart @thinkoutsidethebex

@stuckonjbbarnes your to sweet ❤ thank you. I love when I see you cross my dash.

A few faves @is-it-madness @sapphirescrolls @sagechanoafterdark @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @just-the-hiddles @rainbowkisses31 @nekoannie-chan and many more.

Omg @sweater-daddiesdumbdork thank you hun! Right back atcha 💜💜

Some of my faves (im gonna forget some i know it!)

@jtargaryen18 @musette22 @luvinchris @imanuglywombat @firefly-in-darkness @imjustabandgeek @polarischk @buckstaybucky @phant0m-queen @rubyrosettared @iheartsebastianstan @randomfandompenguin @captain-rogers-beard

A AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH @rainbowkisses31 thank you so much!

I know I’m gonna forget someone, so my apologies ahead!

@racheo91 @frickss75 @sebastiansloserclub @ladyrevealedofcloak @beckygirl95 @cchellacat @eurynome827 @book-dragon-13 @thebookoftomorrow1 @hiddles-rose @jobean12-blog @ikaris-whore @cametobuyplums @beckzorz @marvelgirl7 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @whydouwantaname @softpeachbarnes @marvelandotherfandomimagines @sallycanwait68 @jewels2876 @sfreeborn @changbinniez-princess @smollest-soybean @otpcutie @tokoyamisstuff @nacho-bucky @seasaurusrrex @valkyrieofsmut @vanillabeanlattes @emorgan5061 @marroncarter

My penguin!!!! ❤❤❤❤thank you @randomfandompenguin

I would nominate @spacemansam @mrsmookie @sofsstucky @wolviesgal @nocturnallly @imorca @thereadersmuse @autumnrose40 @onedayyoujustchange @avocadosatlaw and several others I’m sure I missed ❤❤❤

Awwww thank you @frickss75 😘

I pick:

@cronchevans @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sweeterthanthis @lovinevans @layora88 @lighttomydark @lordelannette @loreloomis @ladynightshade30 @navybrat817 @nikki-writes-stuff @notyetneedcoffee @what-is-your-plan-today @world-of-aus @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jennmurawski13 @jenny-jinya @the-soulofdevil @that-damn-girl @after-avenging-hours @a-distantdreamer @americasass91 @tuiccim @cpn-hydra @champangebucky @carryoncaptainrogers @chaos-sphere @bitsandbobsandstuff @captainsdolly @aesthetic-sexx @always-the-alpha @alishadg @chrissquares @kleohoneyao3 @honeygingergemini @honeygngergemini @denisemarieangelina @definitelycurtiseverett @definitelysoftransom @definitelyjohnnystorm @definitelytwinsteverogers @definitelyandybarber @definitelyalphasteverogers @definitelyjakejensen @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harryspet @hopeless–geek @mintmintdoodles @healing-positivity @petite-madame @pineapplebread @parkerspet @tales-of-spring @voila-tout @leahrose88 @lesbianstevengrantrogers @leehanji @sherrybaby14 @shotsbyshae @spacesnail3000 @floatingpetals-writes @yuhimebarbara

Thank you so much @autumnrose40!

I pick @et-lesailes @nonsensicalobsessions @ladyfluff @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @wintersoldierissucharide @sherrybaby14 @lokidokimagines @lokimostly @frostbitten-written @kitkatd7 @winterisakiller @just-the-hiddles

Thank you so much!!!

@lacfruitintolerant @sweet-barnes @fablesrose @myraiswack @tinymalscoffee @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie @buckys-other-punk @remibarnes22 @barnesjamcs @buckosslut

Thank you so much!!!

@snarky–starky @lacfruitintolerant @is-it-madness @myraiswack @theatrelove3000 @marvel-madness-forever @nerdyshaddowhunter @teenagereadersciencenerd @queenofchaos7 @msmarvelouswinchester @justagirlinafandomworld

You are the sweetest niece, @fablerose

@is-it-madness @frostbitten-written @poetic-fiasco @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @myraiswack @myoxisbroken @lehuka123 @head-over-heart

I love you all so much, family!

Omg @theatrelove3000 I love you too!

I love all of you so much!!

@frostbitten-written @is-it-madness @lehuka123 @myraiswack @carryonmywaywardbucky @sllooney @vengrl @imnotrevealingmyname @arch-venus25 @kellatron55 @onesmokinbabe @vonaralaufeyson @mostlikelyace @iminlovewithtomhiddlestonandloki @kaleidoscope-main @memenerdlover @blindtaleteller @lokis-little-wh0re @head-over-heart

And so many more of you!

THANK YOU @poetic-fiasco I love you too 💚

@shiningloki @underratedcharactersimagines @boltwrites @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @just-the-hiddles @sweeterthanthis @zukochi @madlittlecriminal @dwaynepride @maiden-of-asgard (I binged frostbite in less than a week, it’s fucking amazing, if you like Loki, you’ll love it) and everyone who is doing Kinktober, you are amazing, keep up the good work loves 💚

awe! thank you @onesmokinbabe! i highly appreciate it! much love 💙

i have many favorites, but just to name a few:

@vaseshipghost @dem-obscure-imagines @weepywazwoo @cheesecakeisapie @partycityshowgirlfreak @sinner-as-saint @fandom-puff @zerosinner @yippee-kia-yay

all of you might not be writers, BUT these blogs make me happy when i see their user pop up on my screen when tumblr loads :) like i said though, this is just to name a few as i have so much more. love to EVERYONE who sees this & stay safe 💙💙

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