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solaneceae · 1 year ago

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nest

a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) this one is all fluff and found family and all that cute shit.

Some days aren’t as bad as the others. As far as Team Red is concerned, day Four is one of the better ones, because their minds aren’t as hazy with the fog of war and bloodlust and they can actually, finally think properly. “The others will want our heads today,” Phil grunts, ripping stray roots off the black stone wall to free up a little alcove. (Jaiden will want to put red candles in there, he thinks, right in the middle of the many gas masks hooked to the cold stone. Add to the ambiance.) “We won twice in a row, so I think they’ll just try to trap and spaw-kill us."

“That’s low,” Foolish hums, places a Baghera skull on the improvised altar they’ve set up in the center of their little cave. Cellbit did a good job picking it free of flesh, and its smooth, bleached white surface makes a stark contrast against the red stone. “And boring.”

“Maybe, but they’ll be desperate after the bullshit we pulled yesterday,” the crow snorts, glancing back at the rest of the group — Charlie is recovering from a pretty bad glitching episode in his little ‘hot tub’, his form melted into goopy blob mode to conserve energy. Cellbit is off on the other side of the base, humming into their comms to let them know he’s close, not gone, stay, stay. Baghera has been cooking something in a hidden corner of the base, something she doesn’t want any of them to see yet. Jaiden is perched onto makeshift scaffolding, a bucket in her hand and the other dripping red, tracing lines and curves onto the wall. Carré sits among their chests, checking over weapons and food and head-deep in inventory work. He’s been spending more time with them lately, which Phil is grateful for. Carré is strong (“Carré, more like Carry!” “The goat, the goat!” "La Bestia Argentinia!"), Carré is funny, and more importantly, Carré is one of them.

The old crow’s heart swells up with pride, pride for what his team had accomplished despite their natural disavantage. He feels lucky to be among fellow hybrids, fellow avians, hindbrain thrumming pleasantly with the proximity. His diaphragm vibrates with the low croon of flock, flockmates, yesyes, and he hears Jaiden and Baghera echo the sentiment back to him, in their respective high-pitched trills and throaty quacks.

Purgatory was Hell. Everyone had been blinded by competition and percentages and the weightless promise of getting some eggs back, unable to consider that hey, maybe the fucking cyclops that despises us and calls us sinner is fucking lying, hello! Too too focused on winning and competing to see the bigger picture like he did, but there was nothing he could do about it for now. So if he couldn’t protect his eggs, he’d settle for the next best thing and protect team Bolas. Flock. Family…

His eyes cloud over, memories of pain and betrayal drowning the world out in static-fuzz. Étoiles had stabbed him in the back after promising to be there for him. Fit had struck him down like a heartless machine, his face steely and without the slighest trace of emotion, and Phil knows the man has serious trauma from 2b2t but he can’t bring himself to care right now. (Fuck them. Fuck everyone that isn’t on his team. The communicator strapped to his wrist still shows unread messages from Tubbo, and he refuses to read them.)

“Still can’t believe we won that, honestly,” the conure chirps from atop her bamboo scaffolding as she paints the cave wall in dripping red. Phil doesn’t know what she used to make the dye, and he won’t ask. “But yeah, I think we should just stay inside today. Let them look for us, we ain’t fucking budging.”

“They won’t find us, yes?” Carré asks, accent heavy and whistle-y as he closes the chests and hides them behind hanging vines. “They could, they could look at the map and see.”

“Nah. Cellbit made sure that the place shows up like a natural cave in maps, and our stuff is scattered enough. They won’t find it, unless they zoom the fuck in and spend five minutes checking every single cave in the area. We’re good.” Cellbit’s smart, so fucking smart, Philza Minecraft is so fucking proud right now. “How’s the food situation?”

The Argentinian smirks. “Bastante bien. Zanahorias y pan, suficiente para un día o dos.”

“He says we got carrots and bread, enough for a day or two,” Foolish pipes up, and Phil is so fucking glad he and Cellbit are here to make up for the lack of their usual translators, left behind outside of Hell. “Soooo, technically, we shouldn’t need to commit self-cannibalism today. Unless you’re down for some medium-rare chicken breast.”

“Not a chicken, you fucker,” Baghera yells out from afar. “And you don’t medium rare chicken, you want to catch salmonelle?”

“I can’t!” the shark-totem boasts with a flash of razor-sharp teeth. “Iron stomach! Comes with being part-totem.”

“Please don’t actually immolate yourselves,” Phil rolls his eyes, washing his hands in clean water (at least they have that, thank fuck) before plopping down in front of the campfire. How they haven’t suffocated in smoke with fire in a closed up space is beyond them, but maybe they have and he’s just dreaming all of this. Wouldn’t be the first time his mind fucks with his perception of reality. “We can’t make beds, so if you die you’ll just spawn right into Bad and the other’s hands. We don’t want that, you don’t want that.”

“I really don’t,” Cellbit says, his bulky frame appearing from behind a stalagmite. His jacket is strapped around his waist, for now clean of blood, cat-like eyes gleaming in the dim light. It’s the most clear-headed Phil’s seen him yet. “The elevator’s done by the way, shouldn’t show up on the map.”

“And the sound?” Carré checks, ever-vigilant and detail-oriented. Cellbit shrugs and grins, exposing sharp fangs. “Haven’t figured that one out yet. But it doesn’t matter for now, since none of us are going out. Fuck today, right?”

“Fuck today!” Jaiden woops, jumping down the scaffolding to admire her handiwork — a great frieze depicting all six of them in bright, darkening red, all donning masks of course. “We’re going all moleman up in this shit.”

“Holy fuck,” Foolish laughs, bark-like, clapping enthusiastically at the display. “Oh, oh, I almost want the others to find our base just so we can see their reaction.”

“Oh my god, that would be so fucking funny. They expect an iron farm and crops everywhere, and they get the gas mask and blood cult.”

“I finished!” Baghera pops her head out from behind the wall, waving at them with her beak stretched into a ducky smile. “Come see, come see!”

Baghera has built them a nest. An honest-to-god, proper nest, and Philza could cry actually. “Where did you even get all this stuff?” Cellbit whistles, impressed, patting the comfy-looking amalgamation of moss and large leaves and colourful strips of cloth. Baghera smiles. “I have my ways,” she faux-whispers, and everyone knows that her ‘ways’ just amounts to wandering around getting lost until she spots something of interest. Which seems to always work out for her somehow, to be fair.

Phil can spot feathers woven into it here and there, pale yellow and white and blue and black. “So that’s why you wanted those,” Jaiden oooh's, thinking back to their first preening session back at their old base. Baghera nods, the feathers on her neck puffed up in excitement. “Yes, exactly. I thought it would be nice, for a nest. Do you guys like it?” she preens, and the others cheer her on because yes, it’s great Baghz, oh we so fuckin' do. The duck glances at Philza, wings ruffling, and she croons out inquisitively. happy? proud? The crow cocks his head, yesyes’s back at her, because he does like it — it’s plush and colorful and just the right size for all of them to huddle, and her face lights up with joy. “Yes! I’m glad,” she laughs, adjusting a stray piece of cloth near the center. “You wanna add something in it?”

Cellbit donates his jacket, all rips and tears and darker areas where blood used to soak the fabric. Jaiden weaves in some flowers she found the day before while Charlie, now back to his not-too-goopy self, shoves pieces of glowing stone into glass vials filled with slime to make his own version of lava lamps that he places strategically around their new resting place. (“Now there’s pieces of me watching over us at night!” “That’s so gross, I love it.”). Phil unties a ribbon from his robes and lets Carré wrap it around a few emeralds to hang them up above the nest, like some sort of mobile. Cellbit in particular eyes it with rapt fascination, the moving glint on the polished surface of the gems making his pupils expand and his fingers twitch. “Check this shit out,” Foolish boasts as he burns through stacks and stacks of strings to form a tightly-knitted blanket, the other cheering him on as he does and throwing in different dyes in no particular order or pattern. “Eso Foolish!” Carré shouts, everyone else joining him, accents and all.

Baghera is choking on barely-repressed sobs by the end of it, a crack in her ‘I’m fine’ mask. “I wanted to make a nest, with my kids,” she confesses, trapped between five other bodies as they all sit inside. There’s dark tear tracks on her face, still dusty from working on the cave earlier. “With Pomme, and Dapper.” Her hand fiddles with the little charms around her wrist, crudely-shaped pieces of wood shaped like an apple and a tophat, attached to a red ribbon. “I miss them.”

(She misses her kids, she misses her brother, she misses her best friend and father of her son. And she knows that Bad and her briefly talked the day before, that he spared her after she pulled her puppy eyes on him. He still loves her, she knows, and she still loves him. But it still hurts to know he won’t hesitate to drive a sword through her body next time.)

Day Four goes by slowly, punctuated by the occasional death message from Gay Ninjas or Soulfire, and many, manyrequests for red team to ‘come out and die already’. They ignore it all, too busy feeding the fire and tearing their voices out singing, Slime and Baghera being the menaces they are and outlasting everyone else, although Cellbit and Carré put up quite the fight. The Argentinian, usually fairly withdrawn, gradually opens up and cracks them up with perfectly-timed quips and easy smiles. Baghera asks him for PvP tips, just so she can not immediately die whenever another team raids them, and they spar with sticks while everyone cheers her on. “You’re one of us Carré,” Jaiden woops, pulling him into a side-hug and gently batting at his back with a wing. “I don’t care that those ears and tail are fake, you’re one of us freaks.”

“Honorary hybrid, nice!” Foolish nods. “He already barks perfectly.”

“Cats don’t bark, asshole,” Cellbit pipes up, and Phil wheezes with laughter because oh, he just wasn’t denying it anymore, was he? “Speaking from experience I take it?”

“Shut up dad,” the Brazilian sputters, but he’s smiling, and the crow rolls his eyes at the nickname. “Dadza!” Baghera quacks, her feathery tail wiggling in amusement. “Please don’t go and buy milk though. Don’t be Kameto,” she pleads, and Phil almost falls over losing it. He loves these little shits.

Slime decides to climb up a pile of scaffolding as the evening approaches (which they can only tell from the comms, because no outside light reaches them deep underground) and raises his arms towards the gem-encrusted ceiling of their new home, belting out an improvised sermon with his karaoke-destroyed vocal cords. He speaks of masks and sins, of death-touched angels and base instincts, of the beauty of caves and the song of Mother Earth, eyes wide and shining with fervour behind his thick glasses. They all listen and cheer when his speech warrants it, the flames casting eerie shadows onto the walls as they all start dancing to a music only they can hear.

Foolish, Jaiden, Baghera and Charlie’s eyes all start to flicker green-violet as they start smiling a little too wide, laugh a little too brokenly, and Cellbit has to quell Phil’s sudden concern with a tired smile. “It’s like your Death-touch, Phil,” he explains, referring to the strange wither effect Phil’s attacks had gained recently, whenever things got… intense. “Entity stuff.”

“Enigma do Chaos!” Charlie yells, and barely avoids the rock Cellbit throws at him. “Bitch!”

"They’re okay, just… four Chaos-bound together can be a lot when they start syncing up like this. Just be ready to throw water on them if they get too crazy, or something.”

“Can I choose my entity, when we get home?” Carré asks, and Cellbit looks like Christmas just came early. “Sure man, holy shit. Please do.”

“Oh he’s Chaos for sure,” Jaiden laughs, gesturing at Carré who’s just starting doing Casualonas in the empty air, undeterred by their intense cackling — Baghera and Charlie are now dancing together, and it’s wild and uncoordinated, almost a fight. “Now if Felps logs on we can have a party.”

“Oh, meu deus,” Cellbit winces. “No no, we can’t have six Chaos players on at the same time, we’ll actually blow up this place and die.” Foolish yells out a high-pitched yeaaaaah! at that and starts barking again, and it’s all over, everyone else putting their masks on and barking at the metaphorical moon until they all end up on the floor, dizzy and sweaty and twitching with remnant giggles.

“Where’d the blanket go?” Charlie slurs out, blindly feeling out the soft ground in search of it. His glasses have fallen at some point earlier, and he can’t be bothered to look for them even though he can’t see shit. Baghera and Jaiden have passed out already, huddled together against the edge of the nest, Jaiden’s larger wings around the both of them. Foolish takes a break in his own nesting to throw it at him. “Thanks dude.”

“Get yourself into a burrito,” Cellbit orders, fiddling with his trusty knife at the center of the nest. “Your codified bits leech off heat like crazy.”

“Es fresco,” Carré confirms, poking at Slime’s uncorrupted arm. His finger dips into greenish skin, not quite going in, but close. “¿Por eso te llamas así? Like, popsicle.”

“Oh, I’m sorry mister Living Heater,” the slime hybrid scoffs, but there’s no heat to it — literally and figuratively. “Get your ass over here and cuddle me dammit.”

“Still married, Slime.”

“Hey— hey now, I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation, alright? But this cave is cold and damp, and I very much fuck with that usually, but my timer’s about to run out and send me into fuckin’— Sleepytime Junction, and this place is throwing me all out of whack and you run the warmest out of all of us I want me a heat pack, slash p. P means platonic, if you didn’t know.”

Cellbit’s hindbrain does a little jolt at the word. Pack, it whispers, a hum-buzz making his brain a little stupid. He glances at the others, at Jaiden with her head cushioned against Baghera’s chest fluff, Foolish curling up against her back with a tired sigh. He sees Phil right behind them, propped up against the moss and out cold as well — not because he chose to, but because his timer ran out earlier when he was trying to wrangle everyone into not drawing dicks and vulvas on the walls. His body had swayed as the device strapped to his wrist buzzed ominously, sending targeted jolts of electricity up his nervous system and into his hypothalamus to force him into unconsciousness. Carré had caught him, fortunately, saving him from one killer headache next morning.

“...Fine,” Cellbit relents, discarding his knife outside the nest before shuffling over to the others. Charlie flashes him a triumphant smile and plops down next to Baghera, who stirs with a quiet croon as the slime hybrid runs his non-code hand through her left wing, straightening out some feathers stuck in an awkward angle. Carré settles a little to the side, happy to be close to everyone but still needing a little more personal space than the rest of them, and the detective lets Charlie lean into his side with a click-chrrr noise he cannot parse. Cellbit blinks, replies with a hesitant mrrrp. Carré makes a terrible and inaccurate meowing noise and the Brazilian hisses at him for it. “Just wanted to feel included, pendejo!” the human laughs, and it’s bittersweet. (He misses Roier.)

Cellbit sighs, body sinking into the plush bottom of the nest (their, theirs. Pack-flock.) Charlie seizes slightly as his comm goes off with a little beep-beep as it reaches zero, and he goes limp against him. He blinks, staring out at the emeralds slowly spinning above them and resisting the urge to bat at them, play, play, hunt! “No hunting today,” he reminds himself with a whisper.

He looks higher, at the small blue and purple gems jutting out of the dark stone ceiling. They are gleaming in the orange light of the dying fire, like a pale imitation of stars in the night sky. His eyes trace their constellations anyway (a capybara. a duck. a sword. a boat.), mindlessly matching his own breathing with the sounds of his team’s soft exhales, in. Out. In. Charlie glitches, just a little bit, a garbled whine escaping his throat. Cellbit loops an arm around him to pull him closer, a very quiet purr rattling his chest, and the hybrid settles. He feels the edge of Jaiden and Baghera's wings against his hair, Phil’s hip digging into his shoulder. He hears Foolish snoring, he hears Carré’s toss-and-turn because he’s a restless sleeper, that one.

And he can smell them all, their comforting presence, hidden underneath the scent of blood and grime (they really need to take a bath tomorrow, or his nose will start to itch). The scent of them, each one distinct and unique and burned into his memory-hindbrain.

Seasalt and gold, and the subtle tang of divinity.

Ozone-void, bone, and the honey-tar of nightshade.

Steel and wool, thick and scratchy in his nose.

Apples and moss, fresh snow.

Quartz and poppies, the smell of the sky before rainfall.

And closest to him, slime, and the electric tingle of a thunderstorm on his tongue. Tongue he has to keep firmly in his mouth before he does something stupid, like trying to groom his sleeping friend’s mop of dirty blonde hair. (Curse this place, exacerbating their mob instincts like this.)

He hears his timer go off, a spike of startled anxiety. Then he relaxes, his brain buzzing with sleep, sleep, and the world melts into cotton-soft, warm darkness.

Tomorrow is another day. And today… today was okay.

#qsmp #fanfic #qsmp purgatory #team bolas #love me some pack dynamics and affection #CUDDLE PILES FTW

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therhythmafterthesummer · 8 months ago

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Just thinking about our happy little wolves frolicking around with the spring blooms, wrestling and playing (maybe Ginger is pregnant so Binnie is standing careful guard as she plays and frolicks). But just happy tails and belly rubs and affectionate licks to everyone in the pack from everyone. Pretty and kitten are probably laying out on a blanket reading or crafting, they have a little umbrella set up for Ginger if she gets too hot

Also side note within this everyone is shedding and rolling around to get rid of their winter coat. And very clear instructions from the humans to stay DOWNWIND so their fluff stays out of the house and snacks as much as possible. But Jisung and ginger get special treatment because they help get their coats brushed out/ they want the extra affection and care

It would probably be a giant pack cuddle pile night under the stars with the humans and anyone who wanted the shift back safely tucked between wolves. Maybe the three oldest do “shifts” throughout the night to make sure everyone is safe. Very informal, but just them wake up every now and then to check on anyone and the parameter of the yard. Seungmin would be right next to pretty all night, stirring when Chris wakes up before rest his head on his pack mom to signal she’s safe with him.

I’m not sure if you’re doing okay, but I do hope this thought warms your heart

this is all so wholesome omg i'm gonna cry.

yes to everything. just... yes.

i've been a bit out of it these days, but this ask really warmed my heart💜💜

#this pack's cuddle piles must go so hard....#comfiest place to be istg #anon #ask #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

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gun-roswell · 1 year ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: 104th Battalion | Wolfpack Battalion & Plo Koon Characters: Plo Koon, CC-3636 | Wolffe, 104th Battalion | Wolfpack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Poetry, Short Stories, Ficlets, Inspired by Fanart, Open to Interpretation, cuddle piles, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Series: Part 7 of Poetry Shorts Collection (Various Fandoms) Summary:

A poem for the Wolf Pack and their Jedi General in a cuddle pile.

Part of Poetry Shorts Collection of various fandoms

#fanfic #poetry #short stories #ficlets #Star Wars the clone wars #clones #wolf pack #plo koon #cuddle piles

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the-fluffiest-trainer · 3 months ago

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Well, that took longer than expected to reach Laverre. It's an hour and a half past our usual bedtime and I'm exhausted – Fluttershy must have been too, because the moment we got to our hotel room, she just dropped her suitcase, popped open all her pokeballs, and the whole team just conked out on one of the beds.

[A picture is attached. It shows a queen-size bed in a generic looking hotel room. The lights are still on but everyone on the bed is sound asleep. Fluttershy is passed out in the center; there is a kind of triple spoon arrangement going on as Arden wraps her arms around Fluttershy who in turn is embracing Talia. The two cats are curled up together in a ball at the foot of the bed, and next to them Keseph's head rests on the bed while the rest of her is too big to fit.]

They say this place is the City of Otherworldly Dreams. Fluttershy's finding out how true that is right now, and I guess I'm about to as well.

#pokeblog rp #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #rotomblr #ooc: aww look at them it's a cuddle pile :)#ooc: also the dreams here may not come from pelippers but they can still pack a punch

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littleghoulghost · 1 year ago

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Drawing Peace

Masterlist

The cub sat upon the floor, squished within the pack of Ghouls as she sniffled. Bodies were strewn across the rug in front of the fireplace. Hands swept away her tears and claws raked gently through her obsidian hair. Purrs made her muscles weak and heavy with growing content. The panic and fear was subsiding, leaving behind a thick exhaustion. Her tired eyes began to droop, curling further into the tangle of limbs surrounding her.

#little ghoul #the band ghost #cardinal copia #cirrus ghoulette #mountain ghoul #papa emeritus 4 #sunshine ghoulette #sodo ghoul #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #rain ghoul #ghoul pile #pack cuddles #adventures of little ghoul

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aubrietarose · 1 year ago

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That time I drew fourteen werewolves in one day for Kinktober last year.

At the time, I think only 3 of the pack had names and marginally fleshed-out backstories. Now 7 do. Progress!

#aubrietarose #furry art #anthro art #werewolf #anthro wolf #anthro cat #sid #cat furry #lycanthrope #14 werewolves #werewolf pack #anthro wolves #cuddle puddle #cuddle pile #cuddle #Sidmara #Cyri #Nash

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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago

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NSFW

Wolf hybrid pack that was supposed to eat chubby bunny reader but instead take you in and use you as their little breeding toy.

They just kind of adore you, spoiling you with freshly picked fruits and vegetables, doting on their sweet little bunny as much as possible.

You want snuggles? They’re making a cuddle pile immediately, and you’re at the center. You’re hungry for something sweet? They’re ransacking the nearest village and bringing back every sugary item they can find.

They get into a lot of fights over who gets to breed you first once mating season comes around. You’re a bit afraid, seeing all these tall, needy wolves circling you like you’re a slab of meat.

It’s the first time they’re ever rough with you, pushing your soft body down and holding onto your hips as they rut into your fat pussy until you’re knotted over and over again.

Once they’ve all had a turn, they’re back to purring and cuddling into you, giving you little mating bites and cleaning you up.

You decide it’s worth it to get fucked out of your mind every once in a while if it means you’re treated like the pack’s princess. After all… it feels way too good being all full of cum and being bounced on one knot then another…

Being adored by an entire pack of wolf hybrids isn’t easy, but you’re a horny bunny, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68

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peppermint-whiskers · 1 year ago

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501st Shenanigans update!

#pepper writes #fanfiction #rat pack stories #stories #rat pack #cuddle piles #star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #original clone characters

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charliemwrites · 11 months ago

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In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

Main Story | Happy Birthday! | Price pt.2

Masterlist

#asks #thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #1fur1

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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Can I request headcanons for Remy, poly! Logan, and Wade reacting to gn crush telling him that they had been told by their crushes that they're not good-looking and interesting please?

Poly! Wade and Logan

Bullshit! That is such utter bullshit! You’re so sexy don’t cry! - Wade

The idiot doesn’t know what he’s missing out on if that’s how he thinks - Logan.

Want me to kill them?’ - Wade

Logan would smack Wade on the arm ‘pack it in.’

Both of them didn’t like the prick, they never did but didn’t say anything about it for your sake.

Now? They’ll gladly drag that bastard through the mud and more for making you feel as though you weren’t shit. You are the shit when Logan and Wade are concerned.

Wade will be your hype man during this sensitive time but his affirmations were mainly things like:

You are sexy, you are fierce, you will crush that fuckers skull with your thighs the next time that fucker opens their mouth!

Dog pool likes you more than that fucking disappointment.

Emotions are neither of these men’s strong suit so they’re not going to be the best in comforting you but that doesn’t mean they don’t try to take your mind off of the whole thing.

Logan would be your shoulder to lean on for the teddy bear of a man wouldn’t bring himself to move as you openly ranted to him and Wade about the now former crush.

‘What did I do wrong?’

‘You didn’t do anything wrong and you know it, so stop trying to find a plausible way to blame yourself when the fault falls upon the fucking idiot who rejected you.’ Logan would say as Wade hums in agreement while painting his nails.

Pookie is right- Wade

Don’t call me Pookie- Logan

Pookie and I don’t want to see a cutie like you cry over yesterday’s news, if anything you should be strutting down the hallway to show that you don’t give a fuck.’ - Wade continued with a smile. ‘You don’t need someone like that who’ll abandon you upon the first sign of hardship and instead people who’ll gladly get their hands dirty regardless.’

These two may not know what they’re doing or whether they are doing it right but they’re doing their best to make you feel better and make you feel special, which they already do with Wade’s surprise cuddle piles, but that’s all that counts for you.

Out of the two Logan gives the better advice out of the two whereas Wade will want to trash your former crush’s stuff without getting caught. They both show their care in vastly different ways but you always come out of them with a smile and tad more confidence in yourself.

Remy LeBeau

‘They lie mon Cher, you are far from what they say and more.’ Remy would say while trying to bite back his own tongue.

This crush, or former crush now, must’ve been the most stupidest person to have ever lived to have called you uninteresting and not good looking.

To Remy you were by far the most beautiful souls he has ever come across and had nothing but love and respect for others you acquaint yourself with, not to mention you had anyone and everyone paying close attention on what it was you had to say.

He didn’t like seeing you become so unsure of yourself from one persons words and would do anything and everything just to prove that they were a bunch of lies made up by someone who doesn’t see you the way he does.

Remy would shower you in affection and praise that didn’t overstep any boundaries.

He’d spend all day and night with you if he must to show that you were more then some words made by someone else, he’d look at you as though you hung the stars in the sky, he’d look at you as though he could see you rather see through you.

It was beautiful to be seen and or looked at the way remy looks at you that it made you forget all about your former crush. He’d remember everything you’ve ever told him, would greet you in the morning with a tender kiss to the back of your hand while comparing you to the most beautiful rose in the garden.

How are you not meant to fall for him when he’s done nothing but sing your praises and listen intently to everything you’ve ever said.

‘Don’t let people like them get to you mon Cher, that’s what they want. They want you to be as miserable as them instead of flourishing like you should be.’ Remy said as he held your hand.

‘But I thought they-‘

‘Were the one?’ Remy asked. ‘We all think the first people we met are the ones for us, until we are proven to only have been blinded by the sweeter aspects of the relationship that we forget that the person we think we will love forever is as flawed as every other human.’ Remy adds as he lets you rest against his side, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. ‘You’ll find your person.’ He smiled at you.

‘I hope they’re like you then.’ You said as you melted into his side.

‘Or you could just have me yourself.’ Remy would reply.

What’s your answer, will you have him Or wait.

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