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#and also this way i can look after the cat
roosterforme · 5 hours
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Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.
At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.
"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."
You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.
Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."
You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"
Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."
You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night. 
Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground. 
"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.
Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.
"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you. 
When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.
I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.
You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.
When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"
"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."
You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.
Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."
"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long. 
His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."
Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"
You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."
You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."
You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."
"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."
You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."
"I'm definitely not even joking."
You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."
Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."
Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."
It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."
Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."
You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all. 
"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."
"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.
"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself. 
"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."
"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."
Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.
There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle. 
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Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk. 
You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume. 
When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.
"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.
You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number. 
You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.
Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues. 
As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.
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The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do. 
When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"
You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."
Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"
You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"
You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."
Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.
"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.
You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.
Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.
"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information. 
"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"
There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."
"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"
"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him." 
You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!
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Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.
It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.
When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.
When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"
"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"
His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"
He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"
"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming." 
"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted. 
He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."
Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.
"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.
God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.
Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"
He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?"
Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."
"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"
"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."
Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"
You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."
"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"
"Yes."
"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves. 
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Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!
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271 notes · View notes
bunnyinfoxclothing · 2 days
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Hear me out: Vaggie's Wings
Okay, so we have all seen the head canons that Vaggie either loves or hates her wings. That maybe they are not extremely sensitive and that any unexpected touch sends her into a spiral.
Or that she keeps them hidden except for when she's with Charlie, or that she is just so happy to have her wings back, and preening with Charlie is one of the best things she has ever experienced.
But hear me out: Stretching.
Stretching. Everybody stretches out their back. There is the hands above your head stretch. The hands down low stretch. There is the bed stretch where your legs shake. There is the floor stretch, if you do a lot of flexibility stuff you know, cat/cow stretches, cobra stretch, downward dog.
All different kinds of stretches. Now add wings.
I imagine stretching wings is a lot like stretching out your arms. It's like arms coming out of your back instead of your sides. And just like everything else you stretch, you stretch it in every direction.
Now stay with me.
Vaggie's wings being really big, like I'm talking they look too big for her body, so when she stretches them out, they hit the walls and knows stuff off of shelves.
Everyone in the hotel thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. Charlie thinks it's so cute. Vaggie gets so annoyed 'cause now she has to walk across to opposite sides of the room to pick up the two different piles of objects she's knocked over.
Then one day it happens. She stretches her wings back behind her, trying to crack something after sleeping weird and she just freezes. 'Cause her body feels what her mind had forgotten. And suddenly she's back in the alley. Back on the floor and she's in so much pain and just vulnerable.
The hotel crew just watches as a big stretch suddenly makes her tense. Watch her freeze and her eyes widen.
Then Angel comes in at the wrong time and bumps her wings. It had been something playful they had going on. He would shove her out of his way and she would smack his extra arms out of her face. He would try and scoot past her and get a face full of feathers.
It was just instinct with how tactile they had become with each other, but his arm pushes at her wings and they collapse inward so fast that he jumps back in alarm. And Vaggie is on the floor smacked by her own wings hard enough to bruise.
They curl around her in an almost suffocating way and she wants to scream or cry or anything, but she is just frozen and for a moment nobody knows how to help.
Angel feels too guilty to move and Husk is by his side trying to tell him he didn't do anything wrong while simultaneously keeping Nifty from getting to Vaggie, with her muscle memory encouraging her to stab the vulnerable angel on the floor.
Charlie is panicking. She wants to pick up her girlfriend, bring her to bed, and keep everything bad away for the rest of the day, but she also knows that when Vaggie gets like this, she doesn't always like to be touched. Her wings almost always being a huge no no, even when she does want to be held. But her wings are covering all of her. Charlie can't pick her up without touching them.
So all she can do is watch as Vaggie becomes a victim to her own mind in the presence of all their friends.
If you thought this was going to be cute... I am so sorry, but you should know me better than that by now.
261 notes · View notes
formula1blog · 1 day
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Crazy Cat Lady
Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
Summary: You got home to find out that your boyfriend has got a new friend.
wc: 551
It was late afternoon when you finally walked into the building. It was one of those days where you had way too much planned, and all you wanted to do now was take a warm bath and go to sleep. 
You open up the door of your shared apartment and put down your bags. You walk into the living room and see Max laying on the couch. To your surprise, you see that your boyfriend is holding a small kitten that you haven't seen before.
"Love, who is that?" you walk up to him and place a kiss on his head.
Max looks up at the sound of your voice, and a smile forms on his face. "She doesn't have a name yet. I wanted to wait until you got here." He carefully stands up and extends his arm to hand the cat to you.
 You accept the cat and give her a pat on the head. "She is cute." It is a Bengal cat, just like the other two cats that were walking around in your apartment most of the time. Max loves this type of cat, and you can't blame him. The fur of the kitten resembles a pattern of a jaguar. Her eyes are kind of large in a beautiful green and gold color. She is a piece of art. 
“Just like you,” Max says. You blush at the compliment and give the kitten back to your boyfriend. "Why did you buy her? Aren't two cats enough?" You mention Jimmy and Sassy, who were both sleeping in the corner of the room.
Max looks around the room. "You can never have enough cats. I love to have hundreds of them, but you also have to take care of them all, so that isn't the best option. I remember you saying you would like one more." "That was ages ago. I didn't think you would actually buy one."
Max pats his hand on the couch, signaling you to sit next to him. "I would buy anything you want. A third cat is a great addition to our little family. I should have gotten one sooner." 
"You are going to turn into a crazy cat lady if you buy any more." You chuckle.
 "Well, I hope that is your type because when I retire, there are going to be more of these little angels." Max gives the kitten a pat over his head. You laugh at his comment. In your head, you pictured Max laying on the floor surrounded by ten cats. He is wearing a crazy sweater, just like those ladies. You wouldn't really mind it. You couldn't help but smile at your boyfriend. He looks so happy with his cats, and you were definitely going to get him one more over a couple of weeks, maybe as a present for winning a race.
"We still have to decide on a name for this sweetheart," you said as you lay your head on Max's shoulder. "I was thinking about naming her Nala, you know, after the Lion King. She is a badass, and I am sure this little angel will be too."
 "That is a great name, love."
 And so you spend your evening laying on the couch with your boyfriend and three children. You would trade this over everything else in this world.
197 notes · View notes
elisespage · 2 days
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in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.
+
“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.
a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.
the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.
every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.
“how many times, y/n? no cats.”
he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”
he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”
“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.
it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.
“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”
jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”
“several times a day.”
+
when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.
after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.
jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.
“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.
“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”
now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.
“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”
you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”
the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.
“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.
he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”
“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”
you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”
“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”
fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.
“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”
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citruslullabies · 3 days
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Forgive me if this is weird, but I'd kind of like to see some moments of Dogday acting like a dog.
I'll do some minis since they're fast, darling
This is a judgement free zone so it isn't weird!! Also I wanna try something new so let me know if it's good
So for starters, we know Dogday can howl,
But he can also bark
He finds it embarrassing, but only does it if he needs too
The house was peaceful, with soft breathing and light music being the only noise as Dogday was pressed against you while you scratched behind his ears.
He sighed happily, drifting off into his own paradise where it was just you and him. Maybe in a house better than this one, with a garden in the backyard and gloves big enough for his hands to help it. But his mind quickly drew blank with annoyance when yipping and yelping started echoing through the room, opening his eyes and looking down at the causes.
Peanuts yipped at Cubby to play while Cubby growled and snapped her little mouth at him, while Biscuits was trying to play with his planes. She suddenly snatched one of the toy cars in her mouth and went to walk off with it while Peanuts was whimpering loudly, and Biscuits mreowing at him softly and trying to press his little blue plane against Peanut's cheek to cheer him up. Dogday quickly put the commotion to an end, and he... Barked? Fully barked to get them to stop, and it worked. He huffed and snuggled back up with you as you snorted and just continued to scratch him behind the ears before murmuring. "Didn't know you could do that, puppy."
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He also likes to mark you
Not in a weird way, but he marks you with his paws and head
Dogs and cats both like to rub scent glands on things that they claim is theirs (that's actually why dogs will kick in the dirt and nuzzle and cats make biscuits)
You let out a long sigh as you sat down in bed after a long day of work, gently undoing a few buttons on your shirt as you plopped down. Dogday came in a few moments later, shutting the door behind him and turning keeping the lights off as to not bother you. "Angel? Is everything alright?" He asked softly. You groaned and nodded. "Just stressed.."
He nodded before sitting down beside you, making the bed creak under his weight but not break. He stared at you for a few minutes, before snuggling with you. However his nose quickly caught the smell of someone else, which was your boss. As unhappy as he was he didn't say anything, since he didn't wanna stir anything. He knew you wouldn't be that type of person.
So he instead, very quietly started to scratch and rub your back with his large hands as he nuzzled his fat head into your neck and face. You snorted and looked over at him. "You trying to give me a massage?" You joked, which caused him to shrug with a hum. "You could say that."
You eventually fell asleep, sound in his arms as he relaxed with a sigh. Smiling as he shut his eyes with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, since you finally smelled right again. You smelled like his again.
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He thinks he's a lapdog.
No, really
This large humanoid dog who is 6× your size thinks he is a lapdog
"Dogday get off-!" You said, struggling to breathe as your overgrown mutt laid down in your lap, after you had only sat down for a minute as the water in the kitchen was boiling. You huffed and continued to try and push but he was just too heavy.
"Dogday, please! I have to go make dinner!" You desperately tried to reason, but he would not budge and instead closed his eyes while pretending to sleep. You groaned and tilted your head back against the couch, huffing and giving up. Before you scratched his head in defeat. "You're an asshole." You huffed, and from the apparently 'sleeping' figure you felt a rumble as a chuckle and saw a small smirk. Jerk.
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Thanks for requesting my lovely!
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zzoomacroom · 2 days
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Retired amnesia Dream + coma Hob for WIP ask game please 🥺🥺🥺
Thank you for the ask! @linzod asked about this one too, and I'm super excited about it! I only have it outlined so far, but I'm hoping to write it once I'm done with the mpreg fic.
So Murphy is just some guy, as far as he knows. He's an artist, and he's kind of a shut-in with no friends and no life to speak of. He starts having really vivid dreams that, unbeknownst to him, are showing him memories of his past life. He also keeps having these recurring dreams where he meets with this guy named Hob who seems really familiar and keeps telling Murphy that he's real, he's been looking for him, he's trapped in the Dreaming and he needs Murphy to find him in the waking world. Murphy doesn't believe any of it, thinks his unconscious mind made the whole thing up, and he's like, "great, I'm so lonely that my sleeping mind made me an imaginary friend." But then he keeps finding clues suggesting that Hob is telling the truth. He goes to the White Horse and, even though it's abandoned and boarded up, he recognizes it from his dreams. He also maybe finds mentions of Hob in historical texts, the drawing of them from the 1789 meeting, etc. So now he understands that it's all true, and he has to find Hob and hopefully regain his memories in the process.
Now I'm going to put what's happening from Hob's perspective under the cut, because it's a plot twist that would be revealed later in the story.
So how did they end up in this situation? Well, after the Wake, Hob became more unhinged than ever and couldn't accept that Dream was dead. So he planned to do a whole "Dream of a Thousand Cats" style thing and have a thousand people dream that Morpheus is alive again. But in order to organize and orchestrate this whole plan, Hob puts himself into a magically induced coma so he can stay in the Dreaming and make sure the plan works. But once it does, he finds himself stuck there. The mysterious and sketchy person he hired to put him into this coma has disappeared, and now he's trapped with no way to wake up. Morpheus keeps finding him when he dreams, so Hob is overjoyed about that but heartbroken that Morpheus doesn't remember him and doesn't believe any of his dreams are real. Eventually, Morpheus finds Hob in the waking world, wakes him up, gets his memories back, and they live happily ever after.
I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that this fic will also feature Death, Delirium, Daniel, Lucienne, Matthew, Johanna Constantine and Mad Hettie.
Hopefully I'll actually be able to get it written before too long 😭
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makeitmingi · 3 days
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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 33]
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Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.3K
"Yunho..." You raised your head from your pillow, slight hesitation and worry in your voice.
"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes focused on the game that he was playing on his phone. You and him were slowly growing accustomed to staying at each other's places. And tonight, Yunho was staying over at your place.
"Would you like to visit my mom?" You asked.
That's how you ended up in your position now. Yunho drove, worried that you were too distracted to drive. He was right, you couldn't focus on a single thought for more than 5 seconds.
"Thanks again for coming." You blurted out, hands dripping the material of the pants you were wearing.
"(y/n), there's no need to thank me. I should be thanking you for introducing me to her." He said, reaching over to place his hand on yours.
"I'm a littler nervous. Going there always sends me spiralling." You confessed. But it also acted as a warning to Yunho of the state that you will be in when you reach.
"It's okay, I'll be with you all the way, alright?" He squeezed your hand.
"You can tell me anything, I'll always listen." He added. You nodded with a hum, turning to look out the window but you never let go of Yunho's hand. Although the memories of your mother are fond, they always scared you. So Seonghwa made you promise that you'll never come here alone.
"When I think about my mother... She's an amazing person. Seeing her regress to the state she was in before she died... It still haunts me." You told him.
"I understand that, considering how close you were with her..." Yunho empatised.
"And on top of that, my father was detaching himself. I could tell, when she got sick, he just wasn't there." You sighed.
"He left your mom alone?" Yunho asked in disbelief.
"Yes and no. He was there but he didn't visit her room, buried himself in work... almost as if she was already gone from our lives. And right after she died, he got together with my stepmother." You sighed.
"It's like he didn't even care to mourn for her. I became invisible to him, just forgotten. The father that I knew and counted on growing up was gone. And I know a part of me still cannot reconcile with that." You said.
"I can't imagine you having to go through that all on your own, especially at that age." Yunho replied with a small shake of his head, he really didn't like your father.
"You know, I always wondered how different things would have been if my mother was still around." You chuckled bitterly.
"Or is this just his true colours?" You thought out loud.
Yunho didn't reply to that. He has never met your father and mother But he knew he hated your father and was angry with him for treating you that way when you were little and just lost your mother.
"That's the only good part. Your mother isn't around to see how your dad truly is." Yunho said. You hummed in agreement.
"For a long time, I thought maybe that's just his way of mourning. Maybe he just blames me for making my mother sick. He always said she started getting weaker after she gave birth to me. That's why I don't have a sibling. It made me believe my mother would still be alive if I wasn't born." You said.
"That's not true. It's not your fault and your dad shouldn't blame it on you, you're his kid." Yunho frowned.
"It didn't help my case that my stepmother and I hated each other from the start. He hated that I 'embarrassed him'." You scoffed.
"Was she mean to you as a kid?" Yunho probed a little more. He was glad that you found this opportunity to share more with him so he could learn more about you.
"She saw me as a threat so she tried to erase me from my father's life. Little did she know, my father already didn't care for me at that point. But she knows she'll never be my mother." You said.
"What about your stepbrother?" He asked.
"Oh, just as bad as her. But he was the perfect child, wanting to be a doctor, so of course my dad was fine with paying for everything."
"My mother was a respected woman. Everyone loved her, no one can come close to her. She was philantropic, humble and confident. Everyone knows my stepmother is only in it for the name and the money. She'll never replace my mother. Even Seonghwa's parents hate my father and stepmother now." You shrugged.
"What parent would just ignore their child like that...How could he just leave you to be on your own after your mother died." Yunho shook his head.
"It was hard and I barely survived it but that's a discussion for another time." You forced a smile, patting the back of his hand.
"Thank you for telling me all that."
"Nothing to thank me for. I never want it to happen but if you meet my father and stepmother some day, I just want you to be prepared for how they will be." You said.
"I hope I never run into them." Yunho clicked his tongue. You assumed it was because Yunho was afraid of your dad. But no, Yunho just knew he would not be able to fight to urge to punch your dad.
"Is this this place?" Yunho stopped the car and leaned forward to see the sign overhead.
"Yeah, you can go straight ahead and park there." You pointed. Yunho nodded and continued driving until you told him to stop and park the car. When you both stepped out, Yunho went to grab the offerings from the boot.
"Are you cold?" Yunho asked, seeing you wrap your arms around yourself as you waited. You shook your head with a small smile.
"I just... hate it here." You looked away. It was hard explaining all the emotions you felt when you came here. Yunho came forward, holding your hand to walk with you.
"It's okay." He kissed the back of your hand. Although Yunho walked in front, you guided him to where your mother was.
"There she is." You nodded to the headstone that was by the big plum blossom tree.
"Hi... mom..." It felt like there was a rock in your throat you just couldn't swallow. Yunho saw your apprehension but didn't point it out or rush you.
"I'll set up." He said softly, opening the picnic mat. He placed down the flowers, fruit, Korean rice cakes and alcohol. Thankfully, he called his mother to ask for help the night before. You watched, rooted to your spot as Yunho picked off the weeds and used a clean, damp cloth to wipe the headstone.
"Done." Yunho informed, carefully folding the cloth and setting it aside. He didn't greet your mother yet, wanting to let you go first. You gulped nervously, kneeling down on shaky hands.
"H-Hi, mom... I-It's been a while... I'm s-sorry about that." You stuttered as your brain refused to form coherant sentences.
"You go. I don't know what else to say." You said with a clenched jaw. Yunho nodded, patting your head.
"Nice to meet you, omonim. My name is Jeong Yunho, I am (y/n)'s boyfriend. (y/n) has told me a lot about you and she continues to do so." Yunho smiled, bowing deeply.
"I own the restaurant that she's currently working at. She's amazing, her and the whole crew. They saved my business." He continued.
"Thank you for leading her to me." He smiled.
You looked on at how Yunho spoke to your mum, tears slipping down your cheeks. Hearing his words, maybe he was right. Your mother led you to Yunho, knowing what a patient, kind and amazing person he would be in your life.
"He's a big eater, mom, just like Hwa is. You would have loved feeding him." You whispered. To which, Yunho grinned proudly, nodding in confirmation.
"I promise to take care of (y/n)." Yunho quickly added.
"You already take such good care of me, Yunho." You said. He turned to you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.
"I know that. And I'll continue to do it. I just have to reassure your mom that her daughter is in good hands, don't I?" He chuckled with a charming smile, reaching over to pinch your cheek.
"I don't really know what you like to eat but I hope fruits, sweet rice cake and the soju is okay. I'll bring more next time." Yunho said.
"She's not a picky eater. She'll be grateful no matter what." You informed with a soft smile. It made your heart swell when Yunho said 'next time'.
"Here, sit." Yunho brushed the mat for you to sit. You hesitated before taking a seat beside him with your mother's headstone opposite. It was a new feeling, you never wanted to stay here for too long. Seonghwa always had to convince you to stay a little longer before you ultimately rushed out of there.
"Can you believe how long it has been since you left, mom? I'm still not over it..." You sighed. Yunho reached over to hold your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb to comfort you.
"When you left, dad left too. Things have never been the same, our family is gone." Your tears fell into your lap.
"But it's okay, I'm okay. I have a new family of my own, a better one." You looked up at Yunho with a sad smile. He smiled back at you.
Yunho wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his body and kissing the crown of your head. You wiped your tears with your sleeves.
Then it all happened, the same thing that always happened when you came, the flashbacks of memories of your mother. The happy ones and then the sour ones leading up to her death and after.
"Let's go." Pulling away from Yunho, you stood up and brushed your pants. Yunho looked at you in shock and confusion.
"Are you sure? There's no rush and-"
"Yunho, now. Please." You begged. Seeing your pleading eyes, Yunho nodded and stood up as well.
"Why don't you head to the car first? Start up the engine. I'll pack up and be with you." Yunho suggested kindly. You didn't need to be told twice. Taking the keys from him, you trudged down the small path and headed to the car.
"Forgive her, omonim. It's still hard on her..." Yunho bowed politely as he began to pack up. He pour the soju over the grass patch and put the fruit away then folded the blanket.
"Watch over her and protect her, please. She doesn't deserve all this. I'm sure you know that..." He sighed as he patted the headstone.
"We'll be back soon." He gave a final bow before leaving. You were already settled in the passenger seat.
"Hey." Yunho put the things in the boot and came to the driver's seat. Usually, he holds your hand but this time, you were so quick to grasp his hand, as if you would go crazy if you didn't.
"Hey, hey. It's okay..." His other hand came over to cup your cheek.
"Let's go home, hmm?" He smiled softly and you nodded. Yunho drove to your home, sensing that you would prefer the familiarity.
When Yunho arrived, you both went upstairs. Yunho placed the bag of fruits down on the counter and you immediately glued yourself to him, hugging his waist tightly and burying your face against his chest. Yunho hushed you, one hand on the back of your head and one on your back to hold you.
"It's okay, it's okay." He whispered as he felt your tears soak the front of his shirt. Yunho let you hold onto him for as long as you needed, he wasn't going to be the first to let you go.
"Sorry, let me shower." You mumbled.
"Don't be sorry." He patted your head. You shuffled to your bathroom to shower while he quickly showered in the other bathroom.
"Yunho, I'm sorry. I... I..." You struggled to find the words as you both sat on the bed after your showers. Yunho offered to help you dry your hair so you could sleep.
"Love, I told you, there's nothing to be sorry about." He told you, daringly trying the new affectionate nickname.
"I just have this whirlwind of emotions when it comes to her." While you didn't address it, you didn't react negatively so Yunho took that as a win.
"I understand, it's normal." Yunho said. When he was done, you combed your hair while he put the hair dryer back. He got under the covers and you scooted close to him so he could wrap his long arms around you securely. You felt safe with him.
"Yun, thank you." You murmured.
"You're very welcome." He smiled, brushing your hair away from your face, staring into your eyes.
Holding his bicep, you lifted yourself slightly to be on his eye level and pressed your lips to his. Yunho's eyes widened but kissed back, pulling your body closer to his. You pulled away first to breathe.
"Are you okay?" You chuckled, hand resting on his warm cheek. He grinned and pounced over, showering you in kisses.
"Argh! Yunho!" You yelled out as he placed multiple kisses all over your face like an excited puppy.
"That was amazing." Yunho grinned happily. You rolled your eyes jokingly, putting your face against his chest so he wouldn't see you all shy and embarrased.
"Go to sleep." You slapped his chest.
"I expect a wake up kiss later." He declared before returning to the original position as before. You let out an audible sigh then closed your eyes to sleep. Yunho let out a soft laugh, seeing you fall asleep to quickly. He was just teasing you but was glad that you took the first step and you shared your first kiss as a couple.
"Goodnight, my love." He rested his cheek against your head and joined you in dreamland.
"Oh, Seonghwa hyung." Yunho greeted, quickly adjusting his post-sleep hair when he saw that your best friend had arrived. He closed your bedroom door, not wanting to disturb you.
"Hey, thanks for contacting me." Seonghwa greeted Yunho with a brief hug.
"She's sleeping but I thought she might need you more than she needs me... to comfort her." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yunho, you know that's not true. She needs you too, you've become such a big part of her life now, provided her protection and comfort." Seonghwa smiled softly.
"I'm guessing you both haven't eaten." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. Yunho nodded his head shyly.
"It's early for dinner but considering it's your first meal of the day, I'll get started on cooking." Seonghwa informed. Before going to the kitchen to cook, Seonghwa went into the room just to be with you for a bit and see how you were.
"Let me help, hyung. I want to cook for her." Yunho said, standing in the kitchen, when Seonghwa came back out. Seonghwa chuckled as he nodded.
"I'll learn from you. I can't cook a full meal by myself but I can help." He said with determination.
"Sure, ask questions if you have any." The older began to look through your fridge, reading the labels on all the stuff.
"Put these on the counter for me?" Seonghwa requested. Yunho took the vegetables and deli containers, putting them on the kitchen island to be used later.
"Do you know what you're gonna cook right away?" Yunho asked.
"No. So I took out stock because you can always use stock in cooking. Then these vegetables look like they're going to spoil so I took them out too." Seonghwa explained, finding a knife.
"(y/n) removed you from knife duty, right? I don't want to face her wrath for disobeying her." Seonghwa teased.
"Ah, hyung~ Come on. I'm sure all of you got hurt in the kitchen before too! It was just a little cut but she doesn't let me near the knives anymore. I don't want to go back to weighing ingredients. That's so boring." Yunho whined. Seonghwa laughed and let Yunho use one of the spare chef knives.
"So we'll use the stock and braise the leeks. That's easily done in the stove then thrown into the oven. There's also some beef, we can do rice bowls." Seonghwa said.
"Okay, I'll follow your lead." Yunho began.
"Oh, let's make a quick pickle. Green papaya, radish and carrot. You can use this slicer. Use the guard though." He instructed.
"Alright, so to draw the water out, we put salt and let it sit for a bit. It's thinly sliced to it should be quite quick. In the meantime, we have prepare the pickling liquid." Seonghwa taught Yunho.
The two of them prepared the meal together, Yunho learning and remembering the little tips Seonghwa taught him.
"Yunho?" You woke up and found the bed empty. Groaning, you reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. After checking the time, you got out of bed and went to wash your face. You assumed Yunho had gone home.
"So you want to baste the steak to add flavour, grab the handle and tilt the pan like this." You peeked over to see Seonghwa teaching Yunho how to cook.
"What's going on here?" You blinked. The two men stopped and looked over at you.
"You're awake." Yunho bound over to you, putting his arms around you to wrap you in a big bear hug.
"Hey, Hwa." After hugging Yunho, you went to hug Seonghwa. He wrapped an arm around your waist while you took a a few seconds to rest your forehead on his shoulder.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He whispered. You didn't say anything, your silence was a sufficient response. He patted your back.
"Aren't you supposed to be off knife duty?" You raised an eyebrow, turning to Yunho.
"Aww, (y/n). Come on~ I was careful. Look, no cuts." Yunho wriggled his fingers to show you. You gave him a skeptical look and went to the fridge to pour yourself some cold coffee, wanting the taste and aroma to really help wake you up. Yunho reached over to steal a sip from you.
For the first time, you didn't cook, on insistence by Yunho and Seonghwa that they'll handle it. They only allowed you to sit by the counter to watch them.
"Shall I make you a bowl?" Seonghwa offered.
"Can you let me slice the steaks, at least?" You asked back. Seonghwa gave you a flat look but gave in easily.
"Alright, let me assemble my bowl." You laid the slices of steak over your rice, making a well in the middle to put a raw egg yolk and sauce. Yunho placed the pickles they made onto a sharing dish.
"Perilla leaf kimchi?" Seonghwa asked. You nodded and he went to put a plate of kimchi there.
"Thank you for cooking, you two." You said before digging into the food with them.
"This is so good! Seonghwa hyung is a great teacher." Yunho said between his chews, clearly impressed that he helped put together such a delicious dish.
"And I'm just chopped liver... Maybe next time, you should cook with Seonghwa and help him with his prep, since he's such an amazing teacher, you know?" You scoffed, feigning offense. Yunho's face fell as he tried to defend himself.
"You know that's not what I mean!"
~
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107 notes · View notes
wesawbears · 2 days
Text
Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.
Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind
--
Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.
Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.
But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.
“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him. 
This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.
Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”
Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”
Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”
Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?
Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips. 
Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”
“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.
“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.
Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”
One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”
“You don't have to do that-”
“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.
“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”
Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable. 
He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.
Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated. 
True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.
It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short. 
“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”
Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.
“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”
“You will not speak to him that way.”
Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.
“What did you say to me?”
Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”
A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”
“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait. 
He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”
With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?
“Thank you.”
Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”
“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”
Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.
At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”
The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.
Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.
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f0point5 · 16 hours
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As if you couldn't turn Max watching her breathe into a masterpiece, don't lie🙄 idk maybe they're driving around in her new car and they coincidentally see Elliot😂 would be a nice reprieve from *clenched teeth* freddie
Sooo.
I tried to incorporate a bit of Max watching her just breathe because it’s funny. But also Elliot. But also the car.
But also mostly I was just freaking out because the male perspective is so alien to me. This might suck. We’re going to be KIND if it sucks because I’m just a girl okay men don’t make sense to me.
Anyway, I’m deciding to name this one because this is what I was listening to when I wrote it.
✨set during winter break✨
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Call It What You Want To
“How do you take this long to get ready?” Max groans in frustration, dragging his hand over his face.
He’s been waiting 45 minutes. Not the longest he’s ever waited for you, but he’s been looking forward to this night out for two whole days. After everything that’s gone on in the last couple of weeks, and how none of that is likely to be resolved before Testing next week, he could really use a drink or twelve.
“I’m almost done,” he hears you call back, your tone telling him you’re unbothered by leaving him waiting. “Do you want everyone to think you have an ugly girlfriend?”
Max opens his mouth to reply but closes it just as quickly. What is he supposed to say to that? That no one on earth has ever thought his girlfriend is anything less than breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that it stopped him for thinking you could ever be his girlfriend more than once? That sometimes during a race he looks at the tv screens on the track in case you’re on camera? That whenever he passes the picture of you in his hallway he thinks he’d have hung it up even if he didn’t know you, because you’d still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? No. He’s not saying any of that. Three months is way too soon to let you know that you could use his balls as earrings. It’s not like you need a bigger head.
“I want my girlfriend to get to the club before it closes,” he shouts, stifling a smile. It’s been three months, but he still likes saying girlfriend.
“You’re such a drama queen,” he hears you say, your voice getting closer as you make your way to the living room. “We can’t all just put on a t-shirt with a funny saying on it and-“
You stop when you round the couch and finally notice him staring at your slinky black satin dress. Actually, he’s staring at the parts of you not covered by the dress, which gives him a lot to stare at. He might just give everyone what they want and quit driving if they could promise him he’d only have to lol at you in this dress for the rest of his life.
“What?” You ask him, which has him blinking furiously, trying to focus. You’re holding out a pair of heels to him, the ones you bought with the gift card his dad’s wife had given you for your birthday.
“Nothing,” he says, taking the shoes from you. He shifts off the couch to kneel in front you, lifting your leg to put the shoes on your foot and do up the buckle. “You look good,”
Above him, he hears you chuckle, and then your fingers run through his hair. You’re petting him like a cat, and he’ll be damned if he ever admits how close he feels to purring.
“Why does that still sound like it’s painful for you to admit?” You tease, using a bit more of your nails on the final run through of his hair.
“It’s not painful,” he tells you winding the glittering strap around your ankle.
It’s not painful. Sometimes it’s a lump in his throat, or a tightening in his chest. Sometimes, when he’s on one knee in front of you like he is now, it’s an urge to say something he can’t yet find the words for. But no, it’s not painful.
He finishes with your other shoe, squeezing your calf gently before placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.
“You’re just painfully gorgeous,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Can we go?”
You roll your eyes at him with with a smile. “Your car or mine?”
********************
He chooses to take your car. Every time he gets in your Ferrari, he thinks about Vegas. He drives it often.
He weaves through the streets of Monaco with one hand on your thigh, and he can’t remember where the fuck he was putting that hand before you.
“The thing is, unless the contract gets sorted next week, he’s totally fucked,” you’re saying as Max turns onto Avenue Princesse Grace. There’s a gaggle of people outside with their phones out. Simply fucking lovely. “You’re not listening to me are you?”
Max turns to you, squeezing your thigh as the car slows. “Of course I am, Engel. Do me a favour? Just say fuck again, a bit slower,”
“You’re twelve,”
“You would not have gone out with me at twelve,” Max jokes, slowing to a stop in front of Twiga as a valet comes towards the car.
“You were cute at twelve,” you say, “fourteen is where it started to go haywire,”
Before he can respond, you’re getting out of the car, and immediately the camera phones are focused on you. Max follows you out, handing the keys to the valet as he tries to ignore the feeling of being hunted. He wonders if they know he can hear every word they’re saying. He wonders if they’d like him to take their picture and post it all over the internet. He watches you slink through the crowd towards him, not even bothering to pretend you’re not being watched.
It’s ironic, he thinks, he brings the spotlight, but you’re the one who shines in it.
Inside the lobby, you head straight for the elevator while he talks to the woman at the front desk- it’s a well rehearsed routine. Lando isn’t here yet, typical. He asks if they can send over some St. Tropez cocktails and some gin tonics, and texts Lando to hurry up, before turning to join you at the lifts.
Except, he notices, you’re not alone. You’re standing by the lifts, with a big smile on your face, explaining something to a guy with a familiarly large head.
Max has seen Elliot around a couple of times. Monaco is stupidly small, especially in the winter when it’s nearly empty. The two men always studiously ignore each other, because what is there to say? Max doesn’t know if Elliot knows that you’re together now, and he knows it shouldn’t matter, but it does.
He didn’t hate Elliot in Austin, even though he’d planned to. But then they’d met and Max found he really couldn’t hate someone who was as smitten with you as he was, as he’d always been.
He finds that he kind of hates Elliot now, though, as he gets close enough to hear you giggle at something.
“No. It was actually okay, just cold, you know?“ you stop when Max places a hand on the small of your back, where you dress is low enough that he’s touching your skin. You turn to him. “Oh, hey. Is Lando here?”
Max shakes his head.
“Typical.” You sigh. “Max, you remember Elliot, right?”
“Yeah.” He says, and they shake hands. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” Elliot says with a shrug. His shirt matches your dress. Fuck him.
“Well, you can if you want,” Max jokes, except it’s not a joke because he hates those Britishisms. If you want to say something just say it. And if things are fine and you have nothing to complain about why make it sound- he just doesn’t like the guy. And he doesn’t like that you liked the guy.
Mercifully, the lift arrives, and when it does, Max steps aside.
“You take this one,” he says, gesturing to the open lift. Elliot looks like he wants to refuse out of politeness in the way only English people do, so Max forces himself to put everyone out of their misery. “It’s the least I can do,”
It’s such a dickhead thing to say, but he can’t help but smirk, and it does the trick. Elliot gives both of you a tight lipped smile and steps into the lift, pulling out his phone as the door closes.
You turn to face him, his hand falling away from your back as you fix him with a quizzical look. He waits for you to chastise him for his comment, then wonders fleetingly if you’re comparing him, in his silly t-shirt and tight jeans, to Elliot in his perfectly crisp chinos. Then he finds himself staring at your lips.
“Oh, right,” you say suddenly, tapping his shoulder. “That’s what I was saying. So this builder says he’s ordered all the materials, but he has to no contract. And my dad…”
Max listens to you talk, winding his arms around your waist in a way he’s still getting used to, and you smile at him in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He promises himself then never to get angry with you when you’re getting ready. You’re worth the wait.
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Baji hc's pls?
Here they are!!!
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He's very good at predicting when people will try to steal his food (years of being around Mikey will do this to you)
Thinks of Emma as being his little sister too
As a kid he used to pick up random bugs to show them to his mum (she was not impressed)
Growls whenever his hairband snaps
Gets extremely excited for zoo visits, as a kid he actually used to frequently get lost at zoo trips since he'd run off to look at all the animals faster then his mum/ class. 
Likes splashing in puddles (especially if it means he can splash Chifuyu or Ryusei).
Whenever he sees Luna and Mana they beg to braid his hair (he secretly likes it being played with)
Actually likes talking while watching movies, he likes having someone to theorise with and discuss the plot with.
He can't take any credit for his hair care cause his mother taught him everything he knows.
As a kid he would constantly invite Kazutora round for dinner because he didn't like the idea of him being home alone/ with his parents.
Actually doesn't understand the fuss over dating at all (not until he meets a certain someone and falls in love at first sight).
Can make a really great paper airplane (used to aim them at Mikey's hair) 
Will show affection through biting 
Is super handy with tools, always fixing things his mother tells him to (she taught him everything he knows).
Shinichiro used to ruffle his hair a lot as a kid, he always loved that feeling (Shinichiro's the only one allowed to do this though)
His school sports coaches are constantly trying to recruit him for baseball club (i mean tbf he does have great aim).
Used to have his own piercings but his mum made him take them out (that's why he knows what he's doing with Kazutora's).
Is really great at climbing trees (he wanted to beat Mikey so badly at climbing that he started practising non stop.)
Has accidentally broken his phone at least 6 times
Has named every single stray cat that comes into his room. 
Got so angry when Senju attacked him while training Emma (he immediately pushed Emma behind him to try and protect her) but that anger immediately vanished when he realised who attacked him and why. 
Has teased Mikey before by saying Emma likes him as a martial arts partner more.
Has a lucky hair tie for fights 
Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.
Is also on bug duty, there's a big spider in the house? It's his job to take it outside. 
Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them. 
Went to visit Sanzu in the hospital after the incident, he brought him magazines to try and cheer him up. 
Feeds the local wildlife as well as cats, he has a few trees where he hangs birdfeeders etc
His mother always makes a big effort for his birthdays so he's learnt to make a big effort for everyone elses. Though he always puts in the most effort for her.
Has been late to meetings because he was distracted by a cat before
Baji kept every letter Kazutora sent him
As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.
Watered a fake plant for two years without realising it wasn't real once.
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fabuloustrash05 · 3 days
Text
Random TMNT 2012 Headcanons I Have (2):
Click here for part 1
Raph is right handed but he punches harder with his left and even prefers to use his left arm when arm wrestling.
Mona loves hot and spicy food. She has a high tolerance for that kind of stuff and is not affected at all by its burning taste.
April’s dad, Kirby, is a HUGE fan of Spaceheroes. He was a kid when the original series first aired on TV. Because of this, April was very familiar with the show and watched it a lot growing up. Her knowing Spaceheroes is what also started her close friendship with Leo.
Shinigami never knew her father, he abandoned her and her mother when she was still a baby.
Donnie loves peanut butter. His go-to snacks for him to eat always have peanut butter in it.
April and Mikey have been secretly creating an organized file full of ideas, pictures and vision boards for Raph and Mona Lisa’s wedding, hoping one day soon they’ll get engaged and when they do, April and Mikey will be ready to be their wedding planners.
In middle school, April had a punk phase.
Renet is highly allergic to cats, this worried Mikey regarding his pet, Ice Cream Kitty, but to their surprise Renet doesn’t get an allergic reaction from ICK. She’s the only cat Renet can be around so Mikey lets Renet play with her all the time.
Mona Lisa has a fascination with reality TV shows and is 100% convinced that they are in fact REAL.
After Splinter’s death, Casey felt guilty about how he treated/looked at Splinter. He felt he could’ve bonded with him more, seeing him as another father figure, but his phobia of rats got in the way of it. He’s mad at himself that he lost his chance to bond with a potential father figure because of his phobia and now tries to work on concurring his fear.
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latenightdaydreams · 8 hours
Text
Dom König Head Canons
MDNI🔞
Sub will be linked here once posted🥰
For more click here! . .
Dom König
Soft dom
Loves a bratty sub
Will talk through consent agreements and safe words before kink play
Wants to be called “sir” or even his rank
Likes for you to wear some type of animal ears; cat, cow, dog, etc…
A collar around your neck with a little engraved tag
“Property of König”
Makes you crawl to him
Bow down and kiss and lick his shoes as his blue eyes watch you carefully
Loves to see you kiss and suck his cock through the fabric of his pants
Your saliva soaking into the fabric where he can start to feel it on his cock
He just wants to see how desperate you are for him
 Likes to make you beg for his cock
Slaps your face with his cock
“Pout,” he says as he slaps himself on your puffy lips.
Will cock warm in your throat
Keeping you on your knees in front of him he slowly lowers your head on his cock
Your hands tied behind you back so he gets to set the pace
Gagging as he finally pushes your nose to nuzzle into his blonde pubes
Keeps you there until he cums down your throat, and he expects you to swallow like a good little sub
He doesn’t like to punish you, but he will, especially if you’re a bratty sub
Will bend you over his lap and spank your ass while making you say thank you after ever hit
Same for breast
He will stand you in front of him and smack your breast until they’re red and sore
“Will you behave now?”
“Yes Sir.”
*Slap* “I didn’t hear you Maus, louder for me.”
“YES SIR!”
One thing he learned in the military was how to tie a good knot…
Will turn you into his little rope bunny
Just admiring the way your body looks tied up with red rope
Your breast changing color from the tight ropes making his cock ache
Will use a cattle prod on your ass if you’re bent over
He loves to see you jump with every shock
Never over does it, he doesn’t want to hurt you
When fucking you aren’t allowed to cum without permission
You have to beg for your release
“Does baby want to cum?”
“Yes Sir…please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum.”
“No.”
Edging king
Also, after care king
Will kiss you all over and tell you how amazing you were
Makes sure you’re okay and he didn’t take things too far
Cleans you up himself, always making sure you have comfortable pajamas to change into
Snuggles you on the bed and praises you some more
He will always have your favorite snack on hand and ready to watch your favorite show
Buys gifts to let you know how thankful he is that you give him your trust and allow him the pleasure of being your dom
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tashacee · 1 day
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You said Warriors found Wild the morning after most of them met in Master Mode. How did that meeting go? Please! The curiosity is killing me!
Master Mode: Meet Wild
Warriors needed a break. He didn’t think it was too much to ask, not really. After all; for the past day he’d done nothing but be the responsible one. When he was thrown into a strange forest in a different world, he’d followed his training and got his bearings. When he ran into the sailor for the first time in four years - the kid looking barely a day older and delighted to see his big brother again, he’d grinned and hugged him back, but had also taken charge of looking out for him.
He thought that he’d shown admirable restraint for not attacking the literal living tree man and was glad of that restraint now because Time, as he was called, seemed to be a bastion of sanity in this bizarre world of fairytale creatures and barnyard animals he was now living in.
Still. It probably was foolish of him to think that he could go and take a whizz in peace. He was a Link, after all, and peace just wasn’t really on the cards for him.
Well, he at least got his business done before anything happened. He had time to spare - he’d asked Time to keep an eye on the other heroes while he was gone and the larger hero had agreed. Well. He’d said something that sounded like “bru-ra-hroom”, but Warriors figured that meant “sure no problem.”
So he figured he had some time. He sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned on a tree, breathing deeply and counting to ten in his head. It was okay. He could do this. It was just another weird ass journey. He could do this.
Behind him came the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then a distinct, low, ‘meow’. Warriors jumped, opening his eyes and turning around, fully expecting to see a cat. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have been very surprised if it was a cat-hero.
And. Well.
He wasn’t WRONG.
Uhhhh.
The person before him was clearly, in some way at least, related to cats. But he was not by any stretch of the imagination anything like the tabby that lived in the guards barracks back home.
This person was at least seven feet tall, with greenish grey fur dotted with tattoos, long, red hair, a tail, snout, and claws, was covered in scars, and was wearing a sarong.
He was awkwardly waving a hand and looked deeply nervous, shifting from foot to foot where he stood still half hidden behind a tree. One wrong move and warriors was sure he would bolt.
The captain sighed.
“Are you Link?” He asked
The cat man blinked. Meowed. And nodded. He looked even more embarrassed.
Warriors ran a hand through his hair. Welp. This might as well happen. He looked over at the cat man and frowned; there were leaves in his fur and his white sarong was mussed and slightly dirty, as if he had been curled up in the undergrowth.
“Have-“ he cleared his throat. “Have you been out here all night?”
The cat man seemed to shrink even further as he nodded. He gestured to the camp and then to himself, shrugging. Huh. So the big scary cat man had been nervous.
…okay that was fair. Diverse as their group was, there were no other giant cat men and there was no telling how they might have reacted to him. Someone might have even shot him in a panic!
Warriors sighed. The poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept and was clearly nervous, his tail pulled in close as he picked at the skin around his fingers.
“Alright. C’mon, you must be hungry. I can’t promise gourmet cooking, but we have food at least.” He reached out and put a hand on the guy’s arm to guide him back to camp.
The cat man purred softly and then made a gesture - was it a sign? Wars didn’t recognise it but it seemed… vaguely like stirring.
“Are you… you know how to cook?” He hazarded.
The cat man meowed again, apparently pleased as he nodded. Well. That was something!
Warriors smiled. “Well, okay, you can absolutely cook if you want. Let’s get you introduced first, yeah? Okay.”
Wars smiled and led the giant cat man into camp, feeling positively saintly. So much for a break: he’d gone for a whizz and come back with another giant brother to add to the pile!
But, well. Seeing how his new brother - Wild, the sword called him - settled in with the rest of the heroes, how he immediately bonded with time and Twillght, how he gave a grateful rumble to Warriors when he passed over a fresh cooked breakfast - the captain couldn’t really say that he minded the interruption.
After all- what are brothers for if not for keeping him on his toes?
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kxizoku-ou · 2 days
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CP9 Cat Headcanons
This is... a very silly post. XD After seeing a similar concept on Pixiv (images 10–12 in this log) and critiquing the breed choices it used, I wound up writing my own take on it.
These are written with actual cats in mind (not my usual Hybrid Au), and the breed choices are just for fun— as in, largely chosen based on looks/vibes, not anything too serious. I was definitely channeling that early 2000s "characters are cats for some reason now" mini-genre, so these are pure fluff/comedy, for once... >3>
. . .
Lucci
(Bengal)
Serial toy murderer. Violently destroys any and every toy you give him within a matter of hours, days at MOST. 
Some of the things he’s done to his toys probably qualify as war crimes tbh. Likes to drown the catnip mice in his water dish. Also enjoys tearing things into ragged chunks/”gutting” the stuffing. 
Sometimes you wake up to him on your chest with a present. 
(A chunk of mutilated cat toy. He drops it onto your face.)
The most athletic cat you’ll ever know. There is no surface in your house he can’t reach SOMEHOW. Also can and will learn how to open doors, drawers, etc, and will use this unfortunate skill to get into everything if he’s bored. 
Affectionate, but only on his terms. You don’t decide when you’re allowed to pet him; when the mood strikes, he’ll interrupt whatever you’re doing and forcefully put his body in your lap. 
You’re not allowed to move until he decides you’re done. :) 
Has a surprisingly cute kneading habit. He’ll go Baby Mode and make biscuits for hours. Sucks on certain blankets too.
Kaku
(Devon Rex)
ZOOMIES TO THE MAX.
Seemingly never sits still. Will run from one end of your house to the other at all hours of the day. At night, you’re regularly woken up by the distinct rapid thumping of galloping kitty paws.
Likes high places and unexpected perching spots. This includes your shoulder— and he can make the jump on his own! 
Playful, but not prone to destroying his toys. Prefers batting hard objects down a flight of stairs to tearing the plush ones open.
Too brave (and curious) for his own good. Lacks any sense of danger when it comes to investigating something that’s caught his interest. 
This includes slipping through the front door.
Not super cuddly, but likes being near you/keeping an eye on what you’re doing. 
Has a squeaky “old man” meow. WEH!
Jabra
(Egyptian Mau)
Wild, playful, curious, and so very destructive. If he’s not kept entertained, your property will suffer for it. 
Requires FREQUENT play and attention, but fortunately, he’s not too hard to please. Throwing a squishy ball for “fetch” can keep him occupied for hours. 
The asshole cat who will make direct eye contact with you before (very deliberately) knocking something off a shelf, then sit there smugly while you try to scold him. 
Very talkative! When he wants your attention, he YELLS, and seeing wildlife outside always brings out that excited, bloodthirsty chitter. 
Taking him to the vet is an ordeal, for everyone involved...
Doesn’t mind being pet and handled. Pesters you for affection regularly, but gets bitey when he’s had enough. :/ 
Highly territorial. Will not tolerate other cats/animals near him.
Kalifa
(Turkish Angora)
Truly the embodiment of the “disdainful gorgeous fancy cat” trope. 
Her fur is incredible, due largely in part to near-constant grooming. Do NOT interrupt her washing. 
She’ll wash your fingers too if she’s feeling affectionate. Mlem mlem mlemmmm...
Likes to be involved in what you’re doing. The kind of cat to walk across your keyboard or loaf-sit on top of stray paperwork, seemingly oblivious to how badly she’s getting in the way. 
At least your “adorable secretary” makes for good moral support!
Not overly playful, but she can be a DEADLY hunter when the mood strikes— fast, agile, and with amazing reflexes no matter what kind of toy you put in front of her. 
Weirdly fickle about when you’re allowed to touch her. Will glare, hiss, and swat at fingers if you test those boundaries.
Blueno
(Norwegian Forest Cat)
The most quiet, low-maintenance, independent cat imaginable. You nearly forget he exists, sometimes.
Not much of a meower, but has a deep, calming, rumbly purr. 
Content to curl up on a chair or in a corner and let you go about your day! He’ll alternate between napping and silently staring in your general direction; the eye contact is a sign of affection. <3
Won’t seek out attention on his own, but also won’t fight it if you pick him up and carry him around like a plushie. 
...he stays limp and docile no matter what you do to him, actually.
Needs regular brushing, or his fur starts to matt. It’s pretty much the only “extra attention” he’ll require, though, and he’s (fortunately) cooperative about it. 
Learned how to open doors at some point. You don’t know how he managed that.
Fukurou
(Persian)
R O U N D (and it’s not just fluff)
Despite being shaped like a furry bowling ball, he’s quite playful, and way more agile/fast-moving than you’d expect. 
...that energy is much less cute when his full weight lands on your abdomen in the middle of the night, however.
VERY affectionate. Will take any opportunity to lay his chin on your palm, headbutt your shoulder/wrists, put his paws on your chest so he can try to lovingly lick your face, etc— purring all the while! 
Chatty cat!! Chirps and squeaks at you non-stop; if you “respond” to him, it turns into a back-and-forth conversation with his mrrep-ing. 
Fond of high places, like bookshelves and tall dressers. 
It’s unclear how such a heavy cat manages to get up onto them, but he usually ends up yowling for help when he can’t get back down.
Kumadori
(British Longhair)
A huge, massively fluffy mini-lion of a cat, with that “polite little gentleman” face common in his breed. 
Sheds. Sheds SO MUCH. All of your clothes are covered in his fur, no matter how hard you try to keep him thoroughly brushed. 
You cannot escape the fluff. 
YOWLS. The loudest, most determined drama queen when he wants something. Acts like he’s dying if his food bowl is empty for more than half an hour, non-stop howling included. 
Extremely cuddly; wants as much attention from you as you’ll give, and will flop his entire body into your lap to get it. 
Fond of jingly toys! The louder and more annoying the bell, the better. 
If you ever have to give him medicine (be it a pill or liquid), he’s utterly betrayed. Gives you the huge, sad, miserable scared-kitty eyes for the rest of the evening, and won’t let you touch him. 
(He’s over it by morning, and back to purring in your arms. Baby.)
Spandam
(Siamese)
The ugliest purebred imaginable, and his personality isn’t better. <3
Health issues. Skin/coat problems, numerous food sensitivities, arthritis, frequent UTIs, and a crooked tail from a past injury.
King of separation anxiety. If he can’t find you, he’s HOWLING, then finding a corner to cower in until his protector is back.
Truly the embodiment of the phrase “scardey cat”. Terrified of everything from the vacuum to rustling plastic bags. Huddles under the couch, trembling pathetically, after every little scare. 
...it is kind of cute when he runs to you to “save” him, however. 
This clumsy dumbass WILL get himself hurt (in incredibly stupid ways) if you don’t keep an eye on him. Utterly oblivious to real danger.
His distressed yowling is awful, and the attention-demanding yells aren’t much better. The classic So So Whiney Baby Siamese! 
NEEDS to be the only cat in the household— he’s violently territorial, but guaranteed to end up the other cat’s punching bag once he’s pissed them off enough. 
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bellysoupset · 3 days
Note
Okay so this is what I thought of while reading the interactions with the kids.
I just remembered that Vince is lactose intolerant, right? So how would you feel about lactose intolerant Vince with (reluctant) caretaker Max for a change?
I mean I can imagine maybe a class party or something with a kid wanting to make sure that Mr. Monacelli (or Mr. Mo because that is freaking cute) is having fun too, so they keep bringing him snacks.
I can totally see Vin accepting anything and everything from a kid with doe eyes and not having any way to refuse because the kid is watching him and wants to see Vin eat it. (Let's be honest, Vince would never even speak up because he wouldn't want to hurt their feelings).
After that Vin is feeling gradually sicker and sicker until Max can't keep ignoring him anymore, so Vin has to spill the tea.
Then Max is like "why did you even accept?" While Vin, slightly offended, is like "did you really expect me to say no to that kid?"
I know it's really detailed, feel free to ignore it, I just couldn't get this little scenario out of my head.
- 💜
💜! I hope you like this one, I slightly twisted it and it's a little different from my usual... So let me know what you think!
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Max frowned, leaning on the doorway of the kindergarten. His hands were full with a large tupperware with baking soda, food coloring and vinegar, the usual science fair volcano mix. 
What caused him to pause, though, was the sight inside the classroom. Mr. Monacelli, or Mr. Mo to the little ones, was standing, with a kid on his hip, a little girl… Livia, judging by how comfortable he seemed to be as he held her. 
Liv’s dark wavy hair was up pigtails and she had face paint on, the tip of her nose painted black and whiskers on her cheek, a matching look that was mirrored on the other children. Cats, the Musical, kindergarten version? Max thought with a snort.
Vince also had face paint on and he was chewing something Livia had just pushed inside his mouth, out of a box. Across the room Max noticed a tall chocolate cake, with a glittery candle that said 7 on top.
That explained it. 
Birthday parties were always the bane of his existence, so he was incredibly glad he barely taught kindergarten and the older kids would rather die than celebrate in class. As far as he could remember it, he had bad experiences under his belt. From his mom trying to throw him a fully vegan party that had been a flop with him and his friends, to his father getting drunk and forgetting about his birthday altogether, to the fact once he turned eighteen his birthday all but disappeared as celebratory day. 
“Mr. Mo,” a kid ran across the room, with glitter face paint all the way to his scalp. Max snorted at the sight, the parents surely would be over the moon about that, “tell Jess she can’t play with my toy.”
Vince frowned, crouching down to look at the little boy and Max frowned, staring at the scene. He couldn’t figure out this dude. Monacelli gave off military vibes. Football star, with his little homophobic fit the other day, driving that ridiculous motorcycle everywhere… And there he was, covered in glittery paint, scolding a boy for not sharing his toys and being fed cake pops by his little sister and her group of friends.
It just didn’t make any sense.
“Daniels, do you need anything?” 
Max’s cheeks burned as he realized he had been caught staring and he shook his head, as five little heads looked at him, as well as Vince. 
“No, just passing by.”
“Alright,” Vince waved him off, taking the boy’s hand and dragging him across the room to apologize.
It was a couple hours later when they met again. Max was smelling like bleach, after finishing up a biology class with the 10th graders, and ready to head home as he entered the staff’s lounge to retrieve his bag. He raised his eyebrows as he found Monacelli sitting on one of the couches, in the furthest corner, with his arms crossed to his chest and his head tipped back, as if he was asleep.
“Hey,” Max kicked Vince’s foot to wake him in case he was asleep, “day’s over.”
Vince wasn’t asleep — or maybe he was a really quiet sleeper? —  because he sat up straight with a groan, moving his arms to wrap around his stomach, “what do you want?”
Max frowned at the lackluster response, so unlike the man who always seemed to have his energy up, “school’s over, are you planning on crashing here? Maurice is gonna be locking this room soon.”
Vince let out a sigh, using the couch to push himself up and the other man realized he was a horrible shade of white… Damn near green.
“You look horrible,” Max said, taking a step back as he noticed Vince swaying slightly on his feet. Instead of denying, Vince simply nodded, bringing up a shaky hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. 
“Yeah, I know-” he interrupted himself with a soft, sickly burp. He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, ceasing every movement as he gulped down, only to let out another little burp and a groan.
“What’s wrong with you?” Max eyed him suspiciously. There was no way this man had caught another stomach bug after measly five weeks of having one, right? 
Vince pressed his forehead to the metal locker in the teacher’s lounge, seemingly devoid of any energy to put in his combination and retrieve his bag. Most teachers didn’t even put in a combination, everyone used the standard 0000. 
“Monacelli,” he stepped closer, despite wanting nothing to do with illness or this guy. It was just unnerving. 
“I’m fine,” Vince breathed out, but it would have been a lot more convincing if he wasn’t swallowing in convulsively and clutching his stomach. Stomach, which by the way, was pressing against his work polo. The guy wasn’t small by any means and Max could’ve told he had a tummy to begin with, but now it was nearly poking out. 
“Yeah, you look terrific,” Max rolled his eyes, walking to retrieve his own bag and deciding he was done with the whole scene, “feel better-”
He never quite finished his sentence, before Vince let out a little strangled noise and then rushed across the room, to the teacher’s bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and Max cringed in sympathy as he heard a muffled groan. 
Now he couldn’t just leave the idiot, right? Not after he had driven him home? 
Max carefully walked closer, tapping his knuckles against the door, “Monacelli, do you need anything? Meds? The nurse? Your mom?”
He expected to hear Vince telling him to go fuck himself, but instead there was a noise of liquid hitting liquid, followed by retching and more liquid.
Shit. Perhaps, even, literally. 
Max chewed on his lip, looking around the room helplessly as if an older adult would appear and take over the situation, but he sadly was the only adult. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. Office hours were over, the janitor and the security would soon be finishing their rounds and closing up the school.
“Dude,” he sighed, knocking again, “you kinda need to leave, they’re gonna lock us here.”
“Go away…” Vince groaned, his voice raspy and choked up.
Max scoffed, “are you crying?” really? “Mona-”
“I said, go away,” Vince repeated, much harsher now and Max’s mouth snapped shut, his cheeks heating up as his temper got the best of him. 
“Fine,” he said bitterly,loudly walking away,  “drown there, see if I care.”
Sadly, much to Max’s displeasure, he had a guilty conscience and couldn’t make it even to the parking lot. He let out a sigh and glared at the now empty parking lot. Only four vehicles left, one of them being Vince’s stupid motorcycle. 
There was no way the man could go home in a fucking bike.
“Moron,” Max groaned, walking back inside. He fully expected to find Vince back in the teacher’s lounge, so it was much to his surprise when they ran into each other in the hallway. Or rather, he ran, because Vince was frozen in place, an arm wrapped tightly around his belly and breathing through the nausea carefully. 
“Oh there you are-”
“Thought I told you to leave,” Vince groaned, not looking up from the spot in the linoleum he was staring at, trying to keep his stomach in check, “careful, or I’ll believe you give a shit.”
“Fever must be through the roof, you’re delusional,” Max snarked, curiosity getting the best of him as he stepped closer and raised a hand to touch Vince’s forehead. 
Monacelli was much taller, and bigger, so when he pushed Max’s hand away with an impatient huff, the other teacher stumbled on his feet.
“I don’t have a fever,” Vince scoffed, straightening up. He looked worse, more green and more drenched in sweat, “I’m lactose intolerant and I ate- I ate half a chocolate cake…” his gut let out an upset, whiny gurgle that was loud enough for Max to hear.
The blonde stared at him for a second, before cackling “are you fucking with me!?”
When he didn’t get an answer, except for Vince’s cheek ballooning with yet another burp that he muffled with a fist, Max’s laughter lessened down to a chuckle, his shoulders shaking, “oh… You’re serious? You’re in this shape because of some chocolate?”
He really was the one to judge, Max thought with a snort, remembering he’d be hurling much sooner if he ate half a chocolate cake. But then again, he wouldn’t be stumbling around cradling his tummy and whining. 
“What do you want, Daniels?” Vince groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t fucking get you. I helped you, not once, not twice, but three times by now, and you’re still a dick.” 
Max’s chuckle died immediately, his cheeks burning, “sorry, should I’ve been bowing and kissing your feet? What do you want, cuddles and kisses because your tummy hurts?”
Vince raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I’m really sorry you weren’t hugged enough as a child,” he said coldly, “but yeah, actually, I do have people who take care of me when I feel ill, because I’m not a fucking jackass.”
“Says you,” Max snorted, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the empty hallway, “where’s the queue to cuddle you? I don’t see it.”
“I know what your problem with me is,” Vince scoffed, pressing his back to the wall behind him and huffing. He was shaking, which was not a good sign and Max bit down the urge to ask if the guy was okay.
“Enlighten me,” he said instead and Vince folded in half, planting his hands on his knees and breathing through a cramp.
“You’re jealous,” he said through his teeth and Max glared daggers at him, his stomach dropping to his feet. 
He wasn’t jealous, he was… He just didn’t think Vince was anything special. Surely he was allowed this opinion? 
For example, if Vince was so great, why was he about to hurl all over the floor that Maurice had probably already cleaned? That was asshole behavior. 
Max mentally patted himself on the back, before saying loudly, “here, Mr. Moron, don’t hurl all over the floor,” and pushing a garbage bin in front of the guy. He didn’t expect Vince to make immediate use of it, falling to his knees and grabbing the metal bin with his hands, hugging it to his chest as a huge gush of projectile vomit fell inside of it.
He jumped back, startled, then tip-toed closer, feeling a new shade of shitty as he heard Vince let out a whimper and bury his head in, burping wetly once more and continuing to convulse and cough. 
“If you’re such hot shit, why didn’t you not eat the thing you’re aware makes you super ill?” Max asked, mostly to himself, hesitantly moving closer to plant a hand in the middle of the guy’s back. Even down on his knees, Vince was still pretty freaking tall.
Max patted his back in a hesitant manner, then cringed as he heard footsteps down the hallway. Curse both their lucks, Vince’s because he was about to be caught hurling his brains out, and Max’s because now he’d have to look out for the prick. 
He braced for Fernanda, the principal, or Maurice, the janitor, but raised his brows as the person who rounded the corner was no one he knew. The man was well into his mid fifties or early sixties, with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes… And he was really tall.
Max cringed as suddenly he realized he knew Mr. Monacelli from parent-teacher meetings and that the old guy would be expecting him to act like a lovable guy, the same lovable teacher he was when talking about Sophia or Livia. Fuck.
“Mr. Mona-”
“Dad,” Vince croaked, lifting his head for a slight second, “fuck- Fuck, it hurts.”
Mr. Monacelli all but ignored Max as he crouched down next to his son, planting a wrinkly hand on his back and rubbing in wide circles, “I got you, I got you. Get it up and then I’m taking you home.”
Max bit the inside of his cheek so as not to chuckle at that, “Uh- Hi…?”
“Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe zeroed him, opening a small smile, “thank you for keeping him company.”
Sure. That was what he was doing.
“Yeah, uhm- Of course,” Max scratched at his beard, as Vince let out another sickly belch, bringing up a bit more watery vomit, and then leaned back, his head hitting the lockers, chest heaving, drenched in sweat.
“Babbo, I’m dying.”
“You should be,” Giuseppe glared at him, “what a stupida idea was that?” he softly thumped on his son’s forehead, “I couldn’t believe my ears when Livia told me. Cazzo, you’re an adult, Vincenzo!”
Vince frowned, looking pathetically close to tears, “babbo,” he breathed out, wiping at his mouth and clutching his bloated belly, “later?”
“Idiota,��� his father scoffed, grabbing his arm and helping him get up, “Non pensi?”
“Dad,” Vince said a little harsher and his father stopped scolding him continuously, glaring at his son. 
“Let’s go home- Thank you for helping him, Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe said, still oblivious to the role, or lack of one, Max had played.
“Of course,” Max said cheekily, following them out, “any time, Vince. I hope your tummy feels better.”
“Go fuck yourself, Danie- Babbo!” Vince cried out, as his father slapped the back of his hand, dragging him out of the school and towards his car.
“Don’t swear at the boy, he helped you,” Mr. Monacelli glared at Vince, “get in the car.”
“What am I, five?” Vince groaned, stumbling to the car and bracing against it, breathing deeply through the nausea. 
Max bit down a smirk, “Bye Mr. Monacelli,” he said happily, “bye Vinny.” 
Behind his father’s back, Vince raised a middle finger at him.
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ktaerssoi · 4 hours
Text
summary: after caitlin gets drafted into the wnba, you two have a chat (based on the song love will tear us apart, by joy division!!)
caitlin clark x reader
love will tear us apart.
(492)
You had gone to draft night, and you loved every moment of it. Seeing your girlfriend be so happy and excited about her future was definitely a sight to behold.
That being said, you knew that her being drafted for Indiana meant that she would be moving pretty far, and you guys would definitely need to talk before she leaves.
-
once you two had gotten back home the following day, Caitlin finally brought up the situation you guys were in.
"I want you to go with me," she says quickly the night you two get back, unpacking some things to do laundry. you look at her after the words tumble out of her mouth, a look of shock on your face. "c'mon, I mean, I know you still have a year left in school but why don't you just transfer to a school close to me? We can get an apartment, and a cat if you want. or a fish if a cat is too much, I mean I just rea-"
"Caitlin, you know I can't do that," you had cut her off, your words quiet but heard. your eyes watered slightly, sad that you guys could potentially be parting ways after this conversation. "lin, you know how much I love this school, I can't just leave for my senior year." you pause trying to get a read of what she was feeling, but for the first time in a while, you couldn't tell what was going through her head.
"c, I'm not saying that this is goodbye, I just really love where I am right now, and I love that I'm with you but I need to be here. all that you suggested sounded great, but I truly cannot fathom doing my senior year anywhere else." you bite your lip, waiting for her to say something, but she just nods her head, going back to unpacking. you sigh, putting your bags into their usual spot.
you feel Caitlin's arms wrap around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder as you make your bed. "I just can't live without you, I mean seriously, I would rather quit my entire career right now than leave without you," she mumbles, your hair muffling her voice a tad.
"c, just because we're going to be apart doesn't mean that we won't be together again." you turn to face her, your bodies pushed close together.
"come on y/n, we both know love will tear us apart." she looks down at you, and you see her cheeks are damp with tears.
"c, even if that does happen, the chances are slim, but if it does, it's okay because I will always find my way back to you. doesn't matter if you are halfway across the world, you are my person and I don't think I would be able to stay away for long." you smile, wiping her face with your thumbs. "we'll get through it, Caitlin."
i actually hate this dont hmu. jkjk caitlin is such a cutie, i have way to many edits saved 😭. ALSO the girl like texted me i might actually be pulling. - kate!
(not proof read)
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