#hunting dogs maintenance

[kajiimotojiiro]

What the fuck is fukuchis dub voice hello that is not peepaw

#its just so... generic #i bet that man has vocal scarring from the war that even hunting dog maintenance cant fix

[vanderilnde]

HELLO HELLO HI!!! just read your butcher!simon and i’m. in LOVE??? maybe you could continue about reader like. keeps running into him at the Worst Times (running late going somewhere looking like shit, barely awake or crying in the elevator idk LOL) and he’s just like 🤨🤨??? OR reader tries to make small talk with him since they usually get off work at the same time but simon being simon he’s just like. hm. or grunts HE’S TRYING! BUT HE’S JUST a bit socially inept… oRRR reader bakes and had some leftovers and decides to give extras to simon and he’s like. Okay . and pretends that he’s not amused but secretly loves it SO CUTE AAGHH can’t think of anything else but penny for your thoughts? teehee LOVE YOUR WORKKK

ARGHHHH socially inept butcher!simon is so cute. i wanna build a shrinking machine and zap him with it and fossilise him in amber <3

-

Dusk has eclipsed Manchester, draping a greyscale blanket over the city by the time you enter the laundry room with a hamper tucked under your arm.

That was fifteen minutes ago. And since then, you’ve been trying to get the damn washing machine to work.

It’s an old hunk of junk. Repurposed scrap metal with duct tape lining its corners and a dog-eared note hanging above it, reading, Do Not Overload! in crude writing.

You bend your thumb into the start button for the umpteenth time, but it’s fruitless. The feeble machine rumbles to life, sputtering, then has its embers killed as it fails to continue running.

You angrily huff. Your eye bags are as laden as your muscles, heavy and weighed down with the stress of everything piling up. Job hunting; the constant maintenance your neglected flat needs; the abrasive attitude of your new neighbours.

Fleetingly, you consider moving back home. But before the rumination snatches you, you snuff it out with a swift, irritable kick to the drywall next to you, your toes bending with the impact, the pain crawling up your marrow.

“Bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” Chimes from behind you, and you swirl around, coming face-to-mask with Simon. You hope he can’t see your dewy waterline.

“Don’t believe that wall ever did nothin’ to ya,” he tacks on.

The cellophane of the plastic bag he holds—which you presume carries his laundry—crinkles as he clenches his hand. He’s swathed in sweatpants and a compression shirt, slick with a wisp of sweat, and lets his curls sit freely, its tint somewhere on the threshold between rustic cocoa and gilded blonde.

Simon’s words belatedly catch up to you. You heed his attempt at a playful inflection, unsure if it was meant for you or for him, and flush when you see how expectantly, and bluntly, he’s eyeing you.

You listlessly gesture to the washing machine. “It isn’t working.”

His grunt is prefatory. Simon walks towards the machine, poises a fist over it, and brings his hand down on it in three, sparse punches.

The machine coughs out exhaust, then burgeons into a smooth run.

“Not broken,” Simon grumbles, his words barely lucid beneath his Manchester lilt, “just fucking old.”

“I see,” you mumble, “thanks.”

Simon steps back and begins unloading his own laundry. He stuffs wads of clothing, all imbued with blood and the scent of meat, into another machine.

A pinprick of gluttony tugs your stomach. To say something, anything, to keep the conversation warm.

“The mask…” you begin, “is the black mold in your flat that bad?”

Simon turns to you, his eyes deadpan. It sends icy humiliation up your spine, leaving you pettish.

The hum of the washing machine loosely offsets the thick embarrassment in the room. Loud and tinny.

Beneath the rumble, however, a small, barely-there chuckle crosses Simon’s tongue. “Ha,” he says. It’s charitable at worst and genuine at best.

“… I should go… while my clothes’re washing,” you mumble, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.”

You’re past the threshold, stepping into the corridor, when Simon calls after you.

Your lungs stutter and stop. You want him to ask for your number, ask you out to lunch some time, but when you turn around, you feel like you’re falling.

An ornamental pair of panties dangle from Simon’s forefinger. It’s lacy, gauzy, and should be lying on the floor of your flat.

You burn a searing molten as you snatch it from his hands, mortified, and sprint towards the lift.

You turned around before you could see it. A caper in Simon’s eye, the barest implication to something more than a maladroit interaction: an amused, titillating smirk beneath his mask.

#simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #butcher!simon #simon writing #writing

[lis-likes-fics]

The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

~

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader

[faetreides]

MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 

SHIT! 

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better. 

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations. 

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 

Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 

Fuck, not again. 

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait. 

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

 Some say that means it’s love. 

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 

“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant. 

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

#dividers by cafekitsune and roseschoices #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin smut #star wars x reader #mdni #tw dark content #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #⚰️.deaddove

[55sturn]

hi, may i please request a fic abt Chris adopting a little animal? any kind of animal is fine. thank you

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ WELCOME HOME!

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris and his girlfriend, y/n, decided to adopt a cat from a nearby pet shelter!

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: none aside from swearing! total fluff!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris and y/n had began to feel like their apartment was rather…empty. it was just the two of them for the most part, side from the revolving door of friends and family that were constantly in and out.

but when the sky was dusted with specks of dusk and nightfall, the stars starting peak through, and it was just the two of them cuddled up on the couch, it felt lonely. like something was missing.

so when y/n proposed the idea of getting a pet, chris was ecstatic. and so began the hunt for the perfect pet for the two of them. they wanted one that fit their personalities and dynamic, although they’d be completely content with a senior pet too, making a happy home for the animal to live the rest of its life in.

as the couple walked toward the shelters door, the two of them were sort of nervous but ultimately excited. y/n was cherishing the domesticity of it all. there was something about adopting a pet with the person you love that felt so incredibly warm and comfortable.

“i want an orange cat.” chris giggled, swinging his and y/n’s interlocked hands between their bodies.

“of course you do, i wouldn’t expect you to want any other type of cat or pet. well maybe i’d expect you to want something insane like a baby rhino or a full grown giraffe.” y/n laughed, watching as chris’ eye sparkled with mischief at the idea of having an unusual pet.

“a baby rhino as a pet would be sick as fuck. completely fucked up but sick as fuck as like a guard animal or whatever.” chris joked as they reached the front entrance.

“i would be terrified of it.” she giggled, walking through the door as chris held it open for her, they were happily greeted by an older dog that wandered around the front.

the two sat with him, petting him and kissing his head as chris talked about how much the older dog made him miss trevor who was back home with his parents.

the two walked through the aisles of the shelter, soon approaching the door that led to the kennel area. chris pulled it open, walking through and holding it open for y/n before lacing his fingers through hers.

“do you think a dog would be too high maintenance for us right now?” y/n hummed, her head resting against chris’ biceps as they stood and watched the dogs sit excitedly in their kennels.

“yeah i think so, i think if we were to get a dog, it’d have to be a more chill breed or an older dog that just needs love and attention y’know?”

“yeah.”

they continued their walk-through, interacting with as many of the dogs as they could before turning and following the walkway to the section where the cats were kept. as they meandered through, laughing as some of the cats asked for their attention while others looked at them, cocked their heads before going back to whatever they were doing.

y/n was about to turn back to the dogs, thinking they would get away with an older one, when an orange cat meowed and stuck its paw through the metal gate. crouching down she peered into the kennel, finding the six month old kitten excitedly clawing at the gate.

“chris come here.” y/n giggled, sticking her finger through one of the spaces and watching as the kitten nuzzled her finger.

“oh my god he’s so cute.” chris cooed, copying his girlfriend’s actions and petting the cat. the two played with the kitten through the gate until a worker stumbled across them.

“would you guys like to take him out of his kennel?”

“we were actually wondering if we could adopt him?”

“yeah, of course! i’ll just take him out of the kennel so you can hold him and we’ll bring him up to the front!” the lady smiled, handing the couple the kitten before grabbing his registration card out the holder underneath the kennel.

chris smiled as he watch his girlfriend cradle the kitten as if it were a human baby, laughing as she cooed and whispered at him, petting his head, watching as the kitten began loudly purring as she scratched beneath his chin.

“what do you wanna name him?” chris hummed against the side of her head as he slung his arm over her shoulders, the two of them following lazily behind the worker as she led them toward the front counter.

“torn between gizmo and charlie.”

“gizmo’s kind of cute and charlie is lowkey basic.” chris laughed making y/n roll her eyes as she set gizmo down on the front counter, while the worker grabbed the couple a bed? a set of dishes, a pink collar which made y/n laugh, and a few toys along with a bag of food.

after paying certain fees and for the few supplies that didn’t come free with the adoption, the couple walked out with the newest addition to their family. gizmo sat calmly in y/n’s lap as she looped the breakaway collar around his neck after adjusting it to the proper size. chris smiled as y/n happily fussed over the tiny baby sitting in her lap.

as the two brought their cat up to their apartment, y/n sighed and smiled as she spoke,

“welcome home giz!”

↳ taglist: @im-a-matt-girl @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy

© 55STURN 2023 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem reader #christopher sturniolo x fem reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets x fem reader

[obsessive-valentine]

Are your request open? Can I request a sequel to Barbarian?

I know he's kind and everything but I don't think I could give in to him 100%, like yes, probably return the kindness but never love him. Reader feels a lot of guilt about the attack and I think that after the event and realizing that they didn't have much to do in the situation, they just felt numb about everything, living on autopilot except when they are with their dog.

This is just my interpretation and basically a self insertion sorry haha.

I would love to know about their daily lives! Does the barbarian take reader to war with him? (If you delve deeper into my idea) Would he realize that reader doesn't talk to him much? Would he be jealous of the dog?

Requests are always open, I love to hear about people’s thoughts on my silly little characters lol.

I did focus more on the barbarians perspective on the relationship rather the actual complexity of the whole thing and psychological depth of it all, it was a rather shallow Drabble but I’d love to expand more on his character. I’ll see if I come up with any domestic short stories for him in the coming weeks, love that idea thanks :)

Yandere!Barbarian X GN!Reader Headcanons

The barbarian himself isn’t a good person, morally or in any other way, and he knows that. He understands what he’s done to you -pulled you away from everything you’ve ever known or loved leaving it all in tatters- he understands he’s killed innocent and guilty all the same and will continue to do so for the clan to thrive. And he doesn’t feel bad about any of it.

He definitely tries to sympathise with how his greed effects you, but, he doesn’t regret his actions but does understand to an extent how hard this is for you. This is why he tries to over compensate by gift giving and finding it within himself to be gentle and patient, so as not to damage you further (despite that being the polar opposite of how he was raised).

He’s not super emotionally intelligent so doesn’t really know what to do aside from the above. Anyone with common sense will learn fast that they can’t fight him off so it’s very possible to become numb and retreat into the mind. If you wont retreat into his arms he will try make it so you feel comfort in his tent that way you’re not always on autopilot but enjoying a craft or something in your quiet tent if even just for a hour.

Honestly though he doesn’t really mind if you’re on autopilot but does expect you to tolerate him, so if you are adamant on distance or fighting him you might trigger his temper. Like pulling and tugging you around, making you sleep in the same bed no exceptions, raising his voice to remind you who you’re trying to challenge etc.

A very tearful darling is a whole other situation, he cant stand seeing you cry, he’d be sobbing, crying, throwing up on the inside while trying to maintain a poker face and think up a solution.

Onto a lighter topic, the barbarians do move camp every few weeks and that includes reader (dont worry he never makes you walk) they don’t have a permanent home just their tents though our barbarian does intend to settle down at some point once the fighting becomes to much hassle for his ageing bones. But never once does he imagine bringing you into one of his raids, rebellions or battles.

He leaves you at camp with the members that aren’t participating that particular day (like the few women, elders or barbarians that just didn’t go-nobody’s forced to fight every battle, just to pull their weight). And of course your beloved wolf dog who he doesn’t regret, he doesn’t get jealous easily especially of the dog he got you for the soul purpose of cheering you up, if he can’t cheer you up at least the dog can and that’s a win in his books.

He’s really not high maintenance, as long as at the end of the day he load up your plate with his finest hunt and sit near you while you both eat, watching whatever fight breaks out in the clan from a safe distance before he has to eventually step in. There’s not much entertainment in the middle of the woods during the evening so you both take what you can get even if it’s drunken fight.

Maybe he takes you and the dog out for walks or fetch if it gets really boring at camp. Will bring you the best stick he finds for you to play fetch with the dog, he sees how much the dog means to you so he treats it with utmost respect. He’ll let you have control over this one little thing in your life for your own sakes.

Therefore while he would prefer you to love him truly, he doesn’t expect it (mostly because half the time he can’t tell the difference between your compliance and you showing affection), doesn’t stop him from trying though. He’s a saint compared to the barbarians before him... only for you though.

#Yandere barbarian #x reader #yandere #yandere oc

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 9 - left its seeds while I was sleeping

“Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence.” -The Sound of Silence by Disturbed

Masterlist Part 8

It was the lack of air in her lungs that woke Jazz up, gasping for air and fingers desperately trying to find a beating pulse at her neck. 

With a sigh of relief, Jazz rested her palm against the beat, counting as it started to settle into a resting pace again. 

Another nightmare. 

Back in Danny’s memorial Jazz had converted from a maintenance access space, she had slept there one Christmas weekend as she learned her little brother would truly never have a peaceful afterlife. The darkness was an old friend, like a worn blanket from childhood that you would hide under because you believed the monsters wouldn’t get you then- embraced her as she was and sheltered her as she mourned her lost humanity and childhood until there were no more tears to cry. 

Nonetheless, it couldn’t shelter her from the dreams of death, the echo of Danny’s death scream ghostly wail ricocheting in her skull like the worst sort of pinball game she could ever have the misfortune of playing. 

It was no longer Danny’s death or theirs that haunted her with dogged determination, but Jason’s. 

(The same man she found herself missing more with each passing day that she didn’t wake in his arms.)

It was horrifically detailed, the nightmares, because Jazz’s imagination painted with vivid color even in sleep. The details Lady Gotham had shared with her were few and far between, considering she didn’t care for talking about her favorite bird’s murder. 

(Beaten, betrayed… waiting for his dad to reach him in time.)

(Only the darkness would ever know how much Jazz cried for a younger Jason, who only wanted his mother’s love, died for it.)

(It spoke to her own childhood, wanting her parents to love her and care for her.)

(What a pair they were.)

Jazz threw off her blankets and got dressed for the day, hair brushed back into a low ponytail and Bracelets hidden under loose sleeves and a glamor. The metal was cool against her warm skin, a comfortable weight on her forearms as she went about her morning in silence, forcing the nightmare back into a box for her never to think about. 

Danny emerged only a few minutes after Jazz began making breakfast for them, yawning and raking a scarred hand through his messy hair as he tried to wake up. Her little brother was completely healed from his traumatic experience physically, but she worried about him mentally. Though he was much happier compared to when she first dragged him bleeding and screaming to Gotham, which could also be due to the fact that he has a new Haunt and isn’t vilified by the city as Phantom. 

Even if it came at the cost of life, Danny loved being a vigilante.

The signs were there in the little things most of all.

 The pride in his voice when he introduced himself as Phantom, delivered puns and witty one-liners with his wicked sense of humor for all to see, thrived in the sense of duty he wrought in Protecting others, even complete strangers. Danny was a hero, but he didn’t need that distinction to want to help, he only wanted to not be hunted for his spooky nature. 

Jazz would shoulder that burden for him, take up another mantle if it meant giving Danny a chance to be happy with his existence. Ancients only knew how far she would go for him. 

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 

So what if Jazz had a bond with the darkness? So what if she woke up with no air in her lungs, searching for a pulse? 

There was nothing else for her to fight for, no greater purpose she could find then to be at Danny’s side through the ups and downs. Jazz had already given up so much, both willingly and unknowingly, to take the crown, to be more than a presence on the sidelines- she was more than a Liminal, Jazz was the damn Regent. 

(She ignored the grating reminder of the title being temporary.)

It was only until Jazz watched Danny walk through the door of his school, that it dawned on her what she was feeling….

Jazz was becoming depressed. 

-——-———–

With the subtlety of Jack Fenton barreling through a wall, Jazz threw herself into work- both Vigilante and Regent- to ignore the realization and subsequent horror that she was falling into a deep depression.

And it was largely because of Danny. 

Ancients, Jazz wanted nothing more than to confront these feelings head on, much like she encouraged her little brother too, but she couldn’t even find where to begin. 

She supposed she could find someone to talk to about all this, in a professional manner, but her options were limited. 

Spectra was the only ghost with counseling experience, but Jazz would only be leaving a conversation with her worse than when she began. 

Frostbite would be of little help with something so human, considering he was an ancient ghost Yeti. 

Human. That was it. 

Jazz hadn’t considered a human psychiatrist, since most of her health needs thus far were physical and treated by the Yeti tribe, thanks to her ecto-contamination and proto-core. 

What if she found a human doctor to see? Jazz had no reason to discuss anything  ecto related, only human adjacent, so she could very well find one that suited her and her needs. 

Well, that might be a challenge in Gotham. 

The Watchtower was host to nearly every possible hero who were to attend Batman’s urgent briefing, many lingering around and questioning what the Bat could’ve had in store for so many of them to be present. 

Robin, Red Hood, and Red Robin were counted among the numbers of those present, though only Red Robin had the fully depth of what they were about to be privy to, having been one of three people to sort through the Ghost Files (as they were dubbed by the Batkids). 

Robin had demanded to be included, citing his prior experience with The Regent in Crime Alley as reason enough. 

(He would not admit that he had been petrified by the vigilante, the death aura freezing him down to his bones.)

Red Hood was there at the request of his younger brother (Tim), Oracle and Batman, though he had yet to understand why. 

“Red Robin, begin the presentation.” Batman ordered gruffly as he entered the large meeting hall, Superman and Wonder Woman at his heels, the other heroes trickling in soon after. 

Red Robin nodded, took a deep breath and started the presentation slideshow. 

Slide #1: Ghosts, Fenton Family, GIW, Anti-Ecto Acts, The Regent and the Phantom

Despite the absurdity of the first slide, no one felt like laughing. Especially when it is in a meeting with the Batman, the Dark Knight and two (?) of his children. Not to mention the existence of Deadman was well known to the Justice League. 

“Bloody Hell, Bats, took you long enough.” Constantine had no qualms about poking the man in question with a metaphorical stick, but he had fully expected this briefing to happen a week ago. 

“This briefing will be disclosing information granted to us by one of these Ghosts or Ecto-Entities as they are officially classified by the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. A serious breach of the Metahuman protection laws has been created and exploited by this government organization, which is responsible for drawing the Human world into the beginnings of an inter dimensional war with the Infinite Realms.” Batman spoke calmly, even if he was holding onto his demeanor by the skin of his teeth. 

(He was livid.)

(A dead child had to beg him not to send him to war.)

(A dead child was a Spirit of Protection.)

As expected, the heroes present were disgusted by the actions of the GIW, the diabolical Anti-Ecto Acts passed during Luther’s term. 

The worst reactions came during the Fenton Family portion. 

The Ghost Files had included so much info on them, Red Robin had to shorten the list of what he would include in the presentation. 

The first picture was of the members themselves, posing in front of a brick building with a neon sign of ‘Fentonworks’ glaring annoyingly from the background, casting an off shade of pale green over the subjects. 

“The Fenton Family, manufacturers of the weapons sold to the GIW for the express purpose of hunting and capturing ghosts.” Batman began, “The two adults are Madeline and Jack Fenton, ecto-biologists whose prejudiced views on Ecto-Entites seem to be the founding behind the Acts and the GIW.” 

The man in the photo was large, a sturdy frame encased in an orange hazmat suit and bearing a wide grin on his face, with an arm around his wife and children. Madeline Fenton was a slight woman, standing at a possible five foot eight and wearing a hazmat suit like her spouse. 

The children were the next to be spoken of, “The boy is Daniel Fenton, the youngest, and according to the information given, he was killed in a lab accident at fourteen years old.” 

The gasps of horror intermingled with the muttered curses before the Dark Knight silenced them, “Daniel’s older sister, Jasmine, was the primary caregiver for most of his life and after discovering her parents dissecting the town’s protector, a ghost by the name of Phantom, in the same basement lab Daniel died in, Jasmine allowed the Regent to claim their souls so the violence done to Phantom would be avenged.” 

It had been quite the shock for Red Robin and Oracle to read that, both at the evidence of cruelty and inhumane experimentation done to a sentient being (a child who died and protected the town) and the admittance that the Regent killed the humans to avenge Phantom.

It wasn’t until Hood grimly smiled and said, “Good for them.” that something clicked. 

Phantom was killed by the Fentons and avenged by the Regent of the Ghost King. 

(Jason had never been avenged, not like this dead kid.)

There was one file, a video, that Tim refused to share with anyone. 

The death of Daniel Fenton. 

…and the rebirth.

Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t an idiot. He was born into a bloodline of brilliance, even if such wasn’t always used for the greater good. He had spent years fixing his parents failed inventions, doing the proper equations to figure out how something could work when in reality it had no business existing. 

(Designed to view a world unseen.)

He’d learned how to fly a jet and build one at fifteen out of sheer desperation, defeated the Ghost King in the same year…. And was almost killed fully by his parents. 

His vivisection scars had healed fully, his removed ribs having regrown, and he could transform without echoes of agony in his chest. 

(They had gotten far too close to his core.)

Point was, Danny knew there was something going on with his sister. She had been less talkative since their escape from Amity, but Jazz had been withdrawn since they took Jason to the Batcave. He had suspected that Jazz missed having someone to care for, considering that was the kind of person she’d been for as long as he could remember, but it didn’t seem quite right. There was something sadder in her eyes. 

Danny turned his focus back down to what he was doing, shoving the concern down to deal with later when he sees Jazz. Usually English was one of the classes he could relax in, considering he could now actually read the assigned books without worrying about ghost attacks eating into his sleep, but today Danny couldn’t focus on the teacher or the lesson. 

He’d had an idea for the ecto-comms, his own creation made from broken Fenton phones. His notebook, which was a mix of notes and half finished designs, was open to the original design of the comms. Danny had to account for Jazz’s helmet when he designed her set, but it was awkward at best to activate it when she needed to talk to him. 

Jazz needed armor to protect her vital organs even if her skin was incredibly durable. He’d seen some idiot unload a clip into Jazz’s back, not a single one had pierced her- that had been when she’d intercepted a smuggling ring from inside and had yet to summon her armor or sword. 

(The creepy head turn Jazz did to face the idiot was the stuff horror movies were made from.) 

(Danny was oddly proud.)

No, the armor was to protect against ghosts. Ecto-blasts would severely injure Jazz despite her liminalality, unlike Danny who could just go intangible or manipulate the ectoplasm in his body around the blast. 

“Did you hear about the Anti-Ecto Acts?” one of his classmates whispered from somewhere behind him, causing Danny to automatic tune his hearing into the conversation. 

“Yeah, that stuff is sick. Phantom is a pretty cool dude, even if he’s dead.” 

“He’s got puns for days, man.” 

“But still, ghosts?” 

“We got aliens, dude and you’re drawing the line at ghosts?” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

“Just read the whole article, man.” 

“It’s the daily planet.” 

“It’s Clark Kent and Lois Lane, dude, it’s worth the gag factor of metropolis.” 

Danny’s pencil snapped in uneven halves in his grip, confusing mix of emotions swirling in his chest. 

Anger-relief-cautious hope 

He’d given the Ghost Files to Batman as his last resort, believing in the hero and for his connection to Lady Gotham to sway him to give it a read through. Jazz had been adamant that if Phantom and the Ghost King was on that list, then she (as the Regent) would be too, though the two of them had argued against labeling Phantom as the Star King for the time being. Danny had grudgingly agreed to keep Phantom labeled as a Spirit of Protection, even if he went behind his sister’s back and gave Batman a list of his powers. 

(Danny still had nightmares of Dan.)

(He lost his parents, but he hadn’t lost his family.) (He had to remember that.) 

There were few things Jason would consider dear to him. 

His books, kept neat and orderly in his apartment. His vigilante alias, taken from his killer to be a force of change. His grave, as a reminder that he came back. He’d been surprised to see Joker removed from the rogue list, hopeful that it meant he was avenged the clown fucker was finally dead and gone. Dick had held him again when he finally broke down and mourned himself, relief in the fact his killer would never hurt another innocent. 

Never hurt his family again. 

Barbie had framed the autopsy report and given it to her dad, where it proudly rested on his desk as a reminder that the clown was knocked off by a blessed soul and his daughter would never be hurt by him again. 

The alley where his head remained mounted was a protected site in Crime Alley, enforced by both Red Hood and it’s people. A trophy for all of them to appreciate, because while they hadn’t been the ones to end him… they had survived to bare witness to the days free of Joker. 

Harley Quinn was free, the happiest woman in all of Gotham- no, the world! The demon who’d made her in his image so long ago was gone for good and nothing would bring him back. She was free of her ex, her origin story was finally finished. 

Jason counted the fact he was inadvertently avenged as the dearest part of what he was as equal parts man and shambling corpse. He was free of that burden. 

And he had the bone-deep instinct that he knew exactly who to show his appreciation to.

Part 10

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #Jason is about to enter simp mode for Jazz

[starlightshadowsworld]

So I'm writing a fic where Chuuya learns Tachihara was experimented on like he was by the government.

Tachihara basically hid information he was supposed to give to the Hunting Dogs, from his role as a spy. Because he realised how much damage it would cause the Port Mafia.

And for his disloyalty, his punishment was that his monthly maintenance was pushed to the end of the month. They figure he'll come crawling back.

But Tachihara doubled down, started removing info he gave them from their system. He realised he belongs with the Port Mafia.

And has basically accepted that he is dying, and this will be his last day.

Because his maintenance can't be pushed past its supposed date. And he's already falling apart, his body is shutting down.

Chuuya finds him, wanting to check up on him after a mission they were on earlier. And Tachihara tells him everything.

In this he was talked into aiding in a bank robbery when shit went sideways and he got caught in an explosion.

His ability activated and saved him, but barely. Tachihara was bought to the government scientists and was saved. They only told him the price of that rescue after he wakes up.

Tachihara had no choice but to join the Hunting Dogs, because without the maintenance he'd die.

His body is not the same as it once was, and he admits that to this day he doesn't know what they did to him.

He was just a kid. A kid who had to choose between continuous and countless experimentation or death.

He figures someone deserves to know. And if the Port Mafia want to execute him as a traitor, he won't fight back.

And it breaks Chuuya's heart. It angers him to no end that another kid had to deal with the same horrors he did.

That this was happening under his nose and he was unaware. He refuses to let Tachihara die. And Tachihara doesn't get why because he's a traitor.

And he's not even human anymore. He needs monthly maintenance for crying out light, he's like a robot.

Chuuya just like first of all, you had no choice and you still went back and erased the info you gave. Second of all, and most importantly you are human nothing they do can take that from you.

Because fuck Chuuya understands, he understands and he won't let him fall. He won't, he refuses to, if he can be saved so can Tachihara.

The Port Mafia is his family, and Chuuya refuses to lose anymore.

#bsd tachihara #tachihara michizou #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #bsd

[cryptidcr3ature]

Van der Linde gang and what dog breed I’d recommend them.

Dutch: Caviler King Charles Spaniel. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wants a hiking dog or something super high maintenance. Sure grooming might be a factor but personality wise, it’s the dog that’ll sit there, look pretty, and not really worry about anything.

Hosea: English Setter. He would do great with a hunting dog and based off the way he hunts, he’d do better with a setter. He’d also like the sweet demeanor of the breeds standard.

Arthur: Labrador. I can imagine Arthur and his dog playing together for hours. Everything about Arthur reminds me of a lab.

John: Australian Cattle Dog. Unlike the others, John has an interesting lifestyle for a dog. I believe grooming may be more of a chore to him, but he wouldn’t mind running around with a dog for a while. I also think he’d like the guard dog aspect of a Heeler.

Javier: Scottish terrier. I feel like he’d like a little dog with an attitude problem. He’d like the independent and confident personality and the grooming challenge of the dog.

Charles: Newfoundland. He spends a lot of time alone and is more reserved than most,so I think he needs a more mellow dog. Its large size would also help protect him while alone. I also can just see Charles with a big fluffy dog.

Bill: Schnauzer. I could see him with any size, but I think Bill would thrive with one of those stubborn ass dogs. They are so loyal and so protective, but so stubborn (I’ve had 4 schnauzers in my lifetime, I love them but you can’t tell them no). He also thinks the beard makes them look more manly.

Lenny: Standard Poodle. I think Lenny would love a poodle for its intelligence. He’d have it trained to follow his every command, but also that dog would be so spoiled. Lenny would just carry it around like a little dog because he would kill a man for his puppy.

Sean: Australian shepherd. He needs a dog as wild as him. The mischief they would get into would make a nun cry. However, aussies are super smart and Sean and Lenny would compete in which dog was smarter.

Trelawny: Borzoi. He needs a dramatic ass dog. They’re beautiful and so fast, but not known to be the most intelligent of dogs. All the love to my noodle dogs though. :)

Pearson: Lhasa Apso. He needs a crusty little dog to sleep while he makes food, and then sit on his lap while he sits by the fire. Just a throw rug of a dog.

Micah: AKITA! Mean sons of bitches. They are aggressive, but loyal. Micah would like the fact it would only like him.

Reverend Swanson: Chihuahua. He needs a nervy little purse dog.

I’ll make a separate part for the girlies. :)

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #rdr 2 #van der linde gang #arthur morgan #john marston #charles smith #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #javier escuella #bill williamson #lenny summers #sean macguire #simon pearson #josiah trelawny #reverend swanson #micah bell

[rayclubs]

I've always had a dog but now I'm tasked with looking after a cat, if you're like me and think it'd be a breeze because cats are supposedly low-maintenance compared to dogs you're WRONG, here's what I learned about this demon beast in the first week of living alone together

He will bite me

It's true that he doesn't need to be taken on walks which saves a lot of time, but he will immediately piss and shit into a freshly cleaned litter like it's an invitation, doesn't matter if he just shat five minutes ago, he'll do it again on purpose with malicious intent

He will scream. Sometimes it's about something in particular that upset him but most of the time he will just scream for the fun of it

1am is the perfect time to run head-first into the kitchen door and get scared

One time he woke up when I was in the bathroom and he couldn't find me so he started crying loudly and I had to let him in and he just sat in the bathroom with me. I still don't know what the fuck was up with that

He will ask me to pet him. And then he will bite me

He does NOT want belly rubs, you can NOT play him like a bongo, you should NOT roll him up towel style it's FORBIDDEN

He stares at me all the fucking time but god forbid I look at him

Sometimes he screams for food while his bowl is full, so I just go to the bowl and just shake it a bit so the cat food makes the food sound and then he wants to eat it again. Genius strats

Playing with him is WEIRD. He'll pounce and miss and just walk away like he doesn't care, then hide behind the door like I can't see his silly ass, babyboy just learn to aim already

Sometimes he doesn't miss and actually catches the toy abd then what am I supposed to do??? Cats don't play pull like dogs, do I let him keep it? Do I take it and start over the game so he can pretend-hunt it again? What?

Sometimes he runs after the toy for like 20 seconds and then just abruptly walks away. Babyboy do you think I'm the one this game is for or

He will lay on my lap and purr and rub his head against me and purr and snooze and purr and BITE ME

HE CAN GET INTO DRAWERS

He can't get out of the drawers

He can get onto elevated surfaces. It fucks me up cause with my dog I just put something on the table and he can't have it. But with this beast? There are hiding places, man

He will steal shit from me. Tiny things, hair rubbons, pen caps, erasers, etc. No idea where it goes. The shadow realm. Turns up a few days later so I know he isn't eating it, he actually isn't really inclined to eat anything but the most refined of foods which is very reassuring. My dog will try to eat a coin like it's candy

He will stare at the wall

He will meow at the wall

He will scream at the wall

There's more, might add later, cheers

#ray's bs

[1donoow]

VIDEO GAME REC

PT.1

......

♡ - smut

Most of them are fluff

......

<a/n>i somewhat explain why there's alot in my pin post

poppy playtime

security breach [montgomery gator][sunnydrop/moondrop]

the last of us [ellie williams][joel miller]

call of duty[task force 141][alejandro vargas][simon 'ghost' riley]

———POPPY PLAYTIME———

@clanwarrior-tumbly - reader being a same model as huggy

- Reader being an older janitor who never left

- bunzo learning that it's reader birthday

- the toys reacting to the reader carrying a kick-me-paul

- reader being the creator of huggy wuggy pt.1 pt.2

———SECURITY BREACH———

@clanwarrior-tumbly - security breach with a facepainter reader

- gregory and freddy finding the technician's secret office

- security breach with a mouse animatronic

- Canon animatronic meets y/n a kangaroo

- the animatronic receiving a tiny version of them self

@rainbowapocolypse - first encounter pt.1 pt.2 (animatronic! maintenance! reader)

@blueberrys-writings - scary dog privileges

———————————————————————

montgomery gator

@clanwarrior-tumbly - monty with a small moth animatronic

———————————————————————

sunnydrop/moondrop

@srslysierraa - hand in hand

@g00mb13 - headcannon

@clanwarrior-tumbly - sun and moon with a swordfighting fox animatronic

- Reader apologizing after getting banned

- sun helping overnight worker!reader clean

- reader calming moon when the light go out

- separate bodies

————THE LAST OF US————

ellie williams

@gonzo-rella - helping out ellie when she gets her period (platonic)

@elliesmainhoe - headcannon with a feminine s/o

@bubbles-for-all-of-us - that's my mom (platonic)

———————————————————————

joel miller

@forever-rogue - before

- hey kid

- bookish

@multific - a little friendlier

@luveline - grumpy x sunshine

@yelena-bellova - twenty years later masterlist

@peterparkersnose - christmas vibes

@nexusnyx - miss sunshine ♡

- my fellow, my guy ♡

- imagine being loved by me

@joels6string - cup o'joel

- haircut

@joelsgeetar - ___

@baevillier - regulars

@adora-but-ginger - sparks fly

@nanatargaryen - beach day

- grumpy x sunshine (platonic! immune!reader)

- joel and sarah miller x daughter!sister!reader

@wardenparker - for her

@from-the-clouds - savior complex

@orangevtae - I'm right here

- walking sins, lost tragedys

@talaok - incentive

- hunting lesson

- interrupted

- stay

@ourautumn86 - stray pt.3

@heartpascal - I am good (platonic)

- the crooked kind (platonic)

@angelltheninth - rescued by joel miller

@joshuagrayboy - jealous joel miller hc

- more than friends

———— CALL OF DUTY ————

task force 141

@sant-riley - random task force 141 x gen z member headcannon pt.3

- headcannon pt.2

@meatonfork - grim x platonic 141 hc

@itzclouding - becoming a shadow

@venomous-ragno - ghost and könig wirh a reader who has a big dog

@gatorbites-imagines - ___

@imaginesheaven - medic reader x tf 141 hc

@starstruckmiraclekitty - with a reader who sneeze like a kitten

@mangowafflesss - s/o who plays the sims

- Cod Boys Noticing their S/O Phone Screen is of Them

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - The 141 with a reader who's a cybersecurity specialist

@thesharktanksdriver - being the youngest member of 141 pt.1 (platonic)

@personwhowrites - putting stickers on them

@ghosts-bandwagon - ___

@mockerycrow - reader catching them looking at her ass

@gomzwrites - finding out about your soft spots

———————————————————————

alejandro vargas

@ragingbookdragon - ___

———————————————————————

simon 'ghost' riley

@sm8th0p - date (medic!reader)

@ragingbookdragon - babysitting

- ___

- ___

@halfmoth-halfman - the little things

-little treasures, life's pleasures

- our little secret

@clairdelunelove - things simon 'ghost' riley finds attractive about you pt.1

@euovennia - simon being a mom/dad friend to reader

#masterlist #video game rec #poppy playtime x reader #security breach x reader #ellie williams x reader #joel miller x reader #task 141 x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #simon riley x reader

[genderlessghoul]

Inspired by the recent puppy post from Motley Zoo and my undying love for animals, here's what I think each of the ghouls/ghoulettes would keep as a pet :

Phantom : He saw someone walking their dog his first week topside and made it his life mission to get one. After a lot of research and internal debate, he ended up adopting a pitbull/labrador mix from a local shelter. Her name is Petunia and she's the definition of sweet baby angel.

Mountain : He decided to fully commit to the farm boy aesthetic and he got himself some quails. They have their own coop and fenced little garden. They used to be have free range on the entire gardens but they'd always end up eating his vegetables. They look like tiny little chicks when he's holding them. He lets the other ghouls choose their name which unfortunately got him stuck with one called Cum. His favourite was affectionately named Nugget by Swiss.

Aether : Bunny. Tiny little miniature one too, all white except for a small black spot on its nose. It's free to roam around his room and Aether learned the hard way to hide any and all loose cables (more than once). He named it Dust. Because Dust Bunny. He swears it's funny.

Rain : AXOLOTL. She's albino and he named her Rose because of her pink little frill gills. He can understand her somehow, some weird water creature thing. She has a very simple brain tho and mostly screams at him for food. Dew and Swiss love to draw mustaches and hats on her tank with markers.

Dew : He has a black cat named Purrcifer. The cute little thing just started following him one day and Dew can't seem to get rid of him (not that he tried too hard). He says it's the Ministry's cat cuz he spends all day roaming around the ground and hunting mice, but the cat definitely sleeps in his bed every night.

Swiss : He swore he'd never get a pet, he's too unfocused to remember to take care of one properly. Until he accompanied Rain on a trip to the pet store and spotted a ball python. Love at first sight, just look at that puppy face. He spent weeks doing research and was pleased to learn that they only eat like once a week? Maybe every two weeks? That's perfect. He got a huuuge female and named her Fluffy. Fluffy is his pride and joy.

Aurora : Ferret. She wanted a cat at first but she discovered that they came in noodle format and was like !!!YES!!! She taught him fetch. They play with paper balls. He's stolen other ghouls' snacks on multiple occasions.

Sunshine : She really wanted a chameleon but she saw how high maintenance the suckers are and settled for a crested gecko. It doesn't officially have a name because it wouldn't recognize it anyway. Definition of no thought, head empty. Most times, she calls it NO STOP DON'T JUMP THERE. She loves it so fuckin much.

Cumulus : She has the cutest blue budgie. She taught it so many tunes that they sing together all day long. It loves nothing more than to hang on her shoulder all day and watch her do her tasks. One of its many favourite sounds to imitate is the ringtone of whoever's in the room with them. No one knows how it learned to differentiate them all.

Cirrus : She set up a pretty little saltwater tank in her room. It's home to two clownfish and their anemone. They're called Led Zeppelin and Metallica, no she will not take criticism on the name. The tank is very beautifully decorated and everyone keeps bugging her to put up a big one in the common room, which she always refuses cuz she doesn't trust any of them with salt water.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss ghost #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghost #phantom ghoul #rain ghost #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #cirrus ghost #cumulus ghost #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #ghost headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons

[animeniac-writings]

Obey Me - Dogs, Cats, and More!

Otome: Obey Me Shall We Date

I do have a bit of a bias from having chronic rescue cats. Also I like to think there's demon 'pets', but for the sake of this we'll stick to human-realm known creatures.

Lucifer: He's a bit torn between cats and dogs, he loves Cerberus and the excited loyalty of dogs, but quite likes cats, quiet companionship and often independent. That said, he's a tired dad that will put up with (almost) any animal someone brings home.

Mammon: Your man IS a puppy. For you. His favorite animal/pet/familiar is his crows, he says because they're little pickpockets that bring him shiny things, but he loves them so much and coddles them when no one's looking.

Leviathan: Any aquatic life! Fish, eels, octopi, he finds them a lot easier to relate to and likes going on deep swims to look at them. Has given favor to a few throughout time and in turn extended their lifespan. You once told him he should get a pet lobster, since he will live forever, and with help so can they. Also went to a cat cafe with Satan once and really likes the gentle cat he met.

Satan: Cats. 100% Cat person, one who will buy the toe bean socks and take photos of them with their head in a slice of bread. Buys lots of cat themed items. Taking you (or any of his willing brothers if you're busy) on cat cafe dates are his favorite past time.

Asmodeus: Bunnies and chinchillas. Both for the fact they're fluffy, fat, and so cute! He once had a huge white bunny and adored her, even if she did chew on his makeup brushes sometimes. Would gossip and cry into it's fur, has never had a pet since but still loves holding and petting them (and taking so many pictures).

Beelzebub: Dog person for another puppy like demon boy :) Loves big dogs and little dogs, the dogs that will jump up and lick his face when he comes home, taking Cerberus on runs together. He will have a dog and they will do Everything together, workouts, snack time (with it's own pile to chomp on), matching shirts, will carry it around whether it's a mastiff on one arm or a little shaking thing in a purse he carefully holds.

Belphagor: Cats but he is still fond of dogs. Despite his name and their laziness, it's not sloths. Dogs because they remind him of Beel, but unless it's an old or lazy dog, he will prefer it to stay with Beel too. It can always come nap with him though. Has fallen asleep at many a cat cafe with Satan and woke up to multiple cats on him, they know how to find a good sunspot and he can respect that.

Diavolo: He has always wanted a pet, he would be happy with any pet, loves animals, creatures, doesn't have a favorite but he's heartbroken that most are scared of him. Even Cerberus is weary feeling his power.

Barbatos: Dragons, wyrms, and cats. As a being from millennia long ago before the creation of many animals, and having similarities in his demon form self, he greatly respects beasts of old. And cats are both nice companions, cat be low maintenance, and best of all, will hunt mice and rats. Coincidentally, so will small dragons and the like.

Simeon: Cats and quokkas, he's fond of all animals and will says cats if you ask if he's a "cat person or dog person" but nothing quite matches a smiling quokka in his eyes. If you have any pets they will love him immediately and he gets flustered when you pout complaining he 'stole them from you'

Solomon: Possums. He started feeding a possums once, not even knowing what it was, and ended up taking it with him out of curiosity. Unlike the others who will hold off on getting another pet for missing them with short lifespans, Solomon will always have a few around somewhere. He loves feeding them, handing them each piece of fruit into those little hands.

Luke: He says he loves all animals! He would visit them all in heaven often (it was secretly his favorite place to go), his very favorites were the baby seals and turtles though. Seals with those big wet eyes staring up at him, and turtles because they're so slow and he liked to watch them, and always help the ones that got stuck or flipped over.

#Obey Me x reader #Obey Me imagine #Obey Me Shall We Date headcanons #Obey Me Shall We Date x reader #Obey Me Shall We Date imagine #omswd x reader #Obey Me Lucifer x reader #Obey Me Mammon x reader #Obey Me Leviathan x reader #Obey Me Asmodeus x reader #Obey Me Satan x reader #Obey Me Beelzebub x reader #Obey Me Belphagor x reader #Obey Me Diavolo x reader #Obey Me Barbatos x reader #Obey Me Simeon x reader #Obey Me Solomon x reader #Obey Me Luke #Obey Me #my stuff

[sydneyspearls]

Tax his land,

Tax his bed,

Tax the table

At which he's fed.

Tax his work,

Tax his pay,

He works for peanuts

Anyway!

Tax his cow,

Tax his goat,

Tax his pants,

Tax his coat.

Tax his tobacco,

Tax his drink,

Tax him if he

Tries to think.

Tax his car,

Tax his gas,

Find other ways

To tax his ass.

Tax all he has

Then let him know

That you won't be done

Till he has no dough.

When he screams and hollers

Then tax him some more,

Tax him till

He's good and sore.

Then tax his coffin,

Tax his grave,

Tax the sod in

Which he's laid.

When he's gone,

Do not relax,

It’s time to apply

The inheritance tax.

A sampling of our taxes:

Accounts Receivable Tax

Airline Surcharge Tax

Airline Fuel Tax

Airport Maintenance Tax

Building Permit Tax

Cigarette Tax

Corporate Income Tax

Death (Estate) Tax

Dog License Tax

Driving Permit Tax

Environmental Tax

Excise Taxes

Federal Income Tax

Federal Unemployment

Fishing License Tax

Food License Tax

Gasoline Tax

Gross Receipts Tax

Health Tax

Hunting License Tax

Hydropower Tax

Inheritance Tax

Interest Tax

Liquor Tax

Luxury Taxes

Marriage License Tax

Medicare Tax

Mortgage Tax

Personal Income Tax

Property Tax

Poverty Tax

Prescription Drug Tax

Real Estate Tax

Recreational Vehicle Tax

Retail Sales Tax

Service Charge Tax

School Tax

Telephone Federal, State, and Local Surcharge Taxes

Vehicle License Registration Tax

Vehicle Sales Tax

Water Tax

Watercraft Registration Tax

Well Permit Tax

Workers Compensation Tax

In 1913, the 16th Amendment was ratified allowing Congress to tax all types of income. Where did the overwhelming abundance of taxes come from? Politicians.

We are way past being used for their folly. Time to make some big changes!

TRUMP#2024

���️🇺🇸🤍🇺🇸💙

#trump 2024 #time for a change #enough is enough #taxing beyond reason

[katmilk]

what breed of dog i think the tf2 mercs are (plus ms. pauling)

do note that this is on vibes alone and I am a horse expert, not a dog one

DEMOMAN: airedale terrier! friendly, clever, and moderately active nodnod

ENGINEER:

boerboels!!! calm, intelligent, and confident dogs nodnod. very family oriented, and competent working dogs

HEAVY: tibetan mastiff. just look at it and tell me i'm wrong. you can't. I'm not wrong. they're typically very reserved and intelligent dogs. but that doesn't matter. look at them. they're fucking HUGE.

MEDIC: jagdterrier.........competent, courageous,, hardworking,,, strong eyebrow...s.

PYRO:

puli dogs. literal fucking creatures. literal mop. i love i love. la creatura

SCOUT: ibizan hounds! lithe, family-oriented, and very loyal dogs! originally bred for rabbit hunting nodnod

SNIPER: Azawakh! Lanky, independent, loyal. nodnod. very reserved, adaptable, and quiet

SOLDIER:

irish red and white setter courageous, determined, and spirited

SPY: briards! faithful, confident and smart. and high maintenance

MS. PAULING: american water spaniels! charming. eager. happy. and eager to please

#team fortress two #team fortress 2 #tf2 #dogs #medic tf2 #pyro tf2 #engineer tf2 #heavy tf2 #spy tf2 #scout tf2 #sniper tf2 #demoman tf2 #ms pauling tf2 #soldier tf2 #this took for fucking ever. #i hate dogs and everything they are. im jokin gbut wow i should've done this with horses.

[v-anrouge]

You’ve opened the flood gates of me and my love of dogs, so I’m giving EVERYONE a dog breed!

Riddle: bichon frisé, à very cutie small white puffball of a dog, but are high maintenance with their coats and mental stimulation. One of the smarter dog breeds, but also with a need to please. One of the healthiest dog breeds I know of (they never die! Like ever!), but with a need for schedules. Because of the need for mental stimulation, they are a breed that needs strict rules, and strict schedules or they get confused and frustrated.

Trey: some sort of Rottweiler. Laid back, family loving, happy to sit in the presence of others. Not overly large, but still needing exercise, but also happy to just sit on the couch. Also, I feel their stockier build best fits Trey

Cater: shih tzu or Pekingese, both are one of the most ancient breeds, once only allowed to only be owned by the royal Chinese family, some where even given standings in courts! They adore attention, and affection, but tend to only listen to a select few, if any. Cater is a difficult character to get to trust, much like a shih tzu, but I feel once he does trust you he’s attached at the hip much like a Pekingese

Deuce: pit bull. There is no other dog breed I can think of for Deuce that fits as well as a pittie! Tough and aggressive? Yes. Also a loving big baby? Yes. When trained properly, pits are great dogs, but because they can have short tempers, it’s best to not leave them unaccompanied around children. They’re STRONG, so people who can’t wrestle one to the ground if needed shouldnt own one.

Ace: Affenpincher, sassy brats of dogs who would die for their people but refuse to listen to them. One of the more “human like” dogs as they will hold a grudge, and they’ve got an attitude to rival a sassy toddler!

Leona: basset hound, stubborn, can be lazy, but when they put their minds (or noses) to something nothing gets them off track! While bassets aren’t the smartest breeds, I think they fit enough for Leona to be an outlier (nearly said Rhodesian ridgeback because they were breed to hunt lions! Lol)

Ruggie: (hyenas are closer related to cats than they are dogs! But they actually have their own class so whatever) I struggled! But I think lab fits best. They’re basically walking stomachs, and will do anything for food! They are easy to train when given treats, but also have a tendency to just start doing tricks if you’re eating something they want. Intelligent, and friendly reminds me of Ruggie.

Jack: dogo Argentino. A dog if more popular would give pits a run for their money with the villianization! STRONG dogs, we’re originally bread to hunt wild boars, they’re tough dogs! And while extremely loyal, they have a tendency to refuse to attack who they deem as friends. Super courageous (that word took me four tries to spell) they’re high energy with a need to please their people!

Azul: Japanese Akita, loyal but reserved around strangers, these are smart dogs! They tend to be more socially difficult when around other dogs, tending to snap and resource guard, but with their people they are ready to share, sometimes… they’re more reserved with affection, but if you get down they won’t refuse some love and kisses

Jade: Basenji, also known as Africa’s “backless dog” is a silent but intelligent hunting breed! They tend to hide in the shadows before striking, but also love their few people they allow in their circle. NOT family dogs as they don’t like many people, but great for a small household.

Floyd: Central Asian Shepard, NOT FOR MOST DOG OWNERS! I’ve got my gripes! CSA are dogs that NEED jobs, they’re breed to protect livestock in Mangolia and Northern China. These dogs are powerful, and known to hunt down wolves nearby! But they’re babies with their owners, even if they prefer staying outdoors, they won’t turn down a snack or cuddle. But also indépendant where they’ll find their own food

Kalim: golden retriever, loving, friendly, though not the smartest, just a ball of sunshine.

Jamil: Chinese crested (one of my favorite breeds!) are smart, sassy dogs who LIVE for praise. They tend to be picky eaters, and don’t always do well with other dogs as they can be attention hogs, but they are also breed to hunt rats on Chinese trading shops, so they need a lot of exercise

Vil: standard poodle, OR a doberman (partly cause dobies are one of my favorite breed!) both are extremely intelligent, but also can be aggressive when around new dogs as they like being incharge.

Rook: borzoi coonhound mix. Originally I said fox hound, but coonhounds have a sleeker look, and a friendlier personality. Borzois are gorgeous and would die for their people, but are dumb as a box of rocks. Coonhounds are not as pretty, but not ugly either, and known to live for praise. Both are hunting breeds and need their exercise, or they will find some way to exercise (coonhounds are also escape artists)

Epel: i can only see Epel as a yorkie. Big personality, underestimated, super pretty, need of mental and physical stimulation. It just fits him perfectly!

Idia: Carolina, shy and suspicious little buggers who prefer quiet homes, with little activity’s around. But they need their mental stimulation as well. Not the smartest breed, but not the dumbest, they’re independence can get them into trouble though.

Ortho: English Cocker Spaniel (Lady from Lady and the Tramp) are friendly, sweet and loving dogs. They will bend over backwards for their people, and are just some of the sweetest dogs I have ever met!

Malleus: Komodor, the dog that looks like a mop. They’re strong sheepdogs who are willing to die to protect their flock. Soft and docile around their people, but reserved around strangers, they can even come off as agressive when you’re just starting to know them.

Lilia: Icelandic Sheepdog, the only breed from Iceland! Friendly, faithful and charming, their such sweeties! They do their job then come trotting back for a pat.

Silver: German Shepard, strong, sturdy, and protective. One of the best guard dog breeds I can think of, and amazing to train! Ready to please, and ready to play!

Sebek: bull terrier, head strong, loyal, and can be downright aggressive in their love! Their the dog to bowl you over when you get home! They’re hard working dogs who need exercise!

I really love dogs man!

How does it feel to be 100% correct and right 🎤

#I LOVE THIS. #✎ ⇣‧₊˚ 【asks #ৎ୭ ⇣‧₊˚ 【stinks #♡ᭂ ⇣‧₊˚ 【 reblogger