#kicking my feet twirling my hair wagging my tail !!!!!

[torchiiko]

all girls these days know how to do is think abt fictional chess piece and blush (its me im girls)

#daily reminder i am in fact in love with the silliest chess man ever !!!!! #kicking my feet twirling my hair wagging my tail !!!!! #torch chatter #real simping hours #👑 king of my heart - kinger 👑

[ughgoaway]

have we talked about teacher girlies first family outing with matty and annie once annie knows thsir together?? what did they do? where did they go?

Omg, we have not talked about this!! It's very interesting to think about too. there are so many options, but I think it would be very casual and chill! Maybe Matty would plan for a big first family outing, going to a play or out for a big day, but I think it ends up so relaxed.

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

I can see it being just a walk in the park with the three of you and Mayhem! You wake up there for one of the first times and come downstairs completely giddy. Because what do you mean you're at your boyfriend's house, and you slept over, and now you can come down and see him and his daughter?? Crazy!

You come downstairs to the perfect domestic vision, Annie sat at the kitchen table colouring in with mayhem snoring at her feet with Matty pottering away in the kitchen beind you. She has a glass of orange juice in her favourite Paw Patrol cup, and her face lights up when she sees you walk in.

“Miss y/n! Come see what im colouring” she says, waving you over with a cheesy smile. Mayhem perks up when you walk over too, and you can hear his tail whacking against the table leg as it wags. You give him a soft stroke on the head and stand back up to look at Annie's colouring, “Wow Annie it's beautiful! Also, you don't have to call me miss y/n when we’re at home sweetie, just y/n is okay” You smile and rub her hair as you speak, twirling her ringlets in your fingers.

Her jaw drops slightly, and you can see her thinking look on her face as she processes. Trying to disconnect teacher-you from home-you is quite a lot for a 6-year-old brain to handle.

Whilst she’s still thinking Matty slides into your side, grabbing your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he places a cup of tea on the table in front of you, “Morning baby, m’ just making some pancakes. You want some?” 

His voice is still perfectly scratchy from sleep, and you hum happily at the feeling of his hand on your skin, pressing yourself back against him with a warm smile. “Mm sounds good, thank you, love.” You spin in his grip then, and immediately your mouth dries at the sight of him.

He's wearing his glasses, and you can see a light dusting of flour on the lenses. his slight stubble is at the perfect stage where it's just scrathy enough to feel but not to leave beard burn. His curls are a mess as obviously hadn't fixed his bedhead yet, and you couldn't be happier. He's shirtless and wearing low-slung tartan pyjama trousers that are begging to be inched down slightly more.

Matty can feel your eyes on his body and smirks as you trace every inch of him. When you finally meet his eyes again, he can't help but smirk and say, “You done?” with a teasing laugh. You should be embarrassed, but you can't bring yourself to be, just feeling so happy and loved up that any embarrassment melts away. 

“Mm not quite,” you say, leaning back and looking him over once more, “Okay now im done, thanks” and you give him a cheeky peck on the lips before he walks back into the kitchen. You watch him walk away because you are nothing if not a whore, but you spin back around quickly when Annie giggles. 

“You kissed my daddy,” she says, giggling and kicking her feet, “because you like like him” She nods as she speaks, going back to colouring with a shy smile on her face. You hear Matty laugh from the kitchen at her words, and you can't help but giggle too, looking at Annie and giving her an accepting nod. 

You all sit down for breakfast together, and it's domestic bliss, really. Eating Matty’s surprisingly good pancakes and talking about your plans for the day. Annie brings up the idea of walking mayhem together, and you look at Matty for confirmation before agreeing, "That sounds lovely, sweet girl, good idea."

You all get wrapped up in coats and hats, and even Mayhem is getting his coat on. Annie looks like a pile of coats by the end, Matty wrapping her in about 20 layers to make sure she doesn't get a cold despite your protests that she’ll be okay. You shut up his worried rambling with a dizzying kiss, and he pulls away, blinking heavily and with no thoughts in his head.

Annie is walking a few steps in front of you, holding Mayhem under close supervision. He is a good boy and doesn't tug the lead, but he's so big that if he did, Annie would go flying, so you both keep an eye. But you and Matty walk a few paces behind holding hands and acting like lovesick teenagers the whole time. Staring at each other and stealing kisses, squeezing the other's hand, and smiling. You heard Annie say “eww” to Mayhem after a kiss went on a little too long, and he can't help but pull apart from Matty laughing. 

Once you get to the fenced-in park, mayhem goes off lead, and he and Annie are running around together like crazy people, sprinting and jumping. You and Matty sit on the bench watching them, your head on Matty's shoulder, and he strokes up and down your arm.

“I used to think about things like this all the time, you know?” You say to Matty, watching Annie and holding in your giggles at how funny she looks running around with a dog who is practically 2x the size of her.

Matty hums thoughtfully before he speaks, “Things like what sweetheart? Watching my daughter run around like a maniac at 10 am?”

You laugh and lightly slap Matty, bringing your head up to look him in the eyes before you speak, “No just domestic stuff like this with you. Eating breakfast, walking the dog, hanging out with Annie. I can't quite believe it’s real” you bringing your hand up to matty's red cheek, warming the cold skin under your palm.

Matty smiles sweetly and twists his face to kiss your palm, pulling back to say, “It's very real, baby. But I was the same. Waking up to see you next to me this morning was so weird. Wasn't sure if I was still dreaming for a few minutes”

You can't help but snort and call matty cheesy, but your smile and the quick peck you give him tell him how much his words really mean to you. You pull away from the kiss after a few seconds and look into his eyes for a bit before tracing his face, committing it to memory. 

Soon, Annie calls Matty over to run around with her and mayhem, and he does. Leaving you sitting on the bench watching your little family running around like maniacs in front of you, and you couldn't be happier.

#cheesy but i dont care!!! i love them!! #in my head matty is a good pancake chef #but thats the end of his cooking skill #sorry matthew i have no faith #also mayhem feature omg #anon! #teacher au!

[mushroommanstan]

Man-child’s best friend

Shigaraki and a dog comfort fic.

No smut or anything, just wholesome. Please read and maybe tell me stuff to add onto it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so I know we in the Shigaraki simp nation have had a common theme within our separate, yet similar, Shigaraki comfort aus. But today I dare to break away from the usual, if not for a little while. Today I present an AU not with a loving girlfriend giving Shig the love he needs, but instead, a cute little puppy dog.

I really encourage you guys to ask me suggestions and prompts for this. I want this to be a series or something because I think the ideas so cute! Don’t let this flop ;-;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cheap metal crashing into cheap metal was the only thing Shigaraki was able to intentionally cause that day. It was amazing, really, how a plan can fail that miserably. Literally every stage of the mission had gone wrong, all because some green haired prick gave some cheesy speech about friendship and got everyone riled up.

And even now, the soda can he kicked had some left over syrup still in it, causing the sticky concoction to land on and stain his already blood-stained shoes.

Psht. Friends. What does HE know about friends? I mean, his best friends an asshole, and his other best friend keeps rejecting Togas advances. Not that he cares, the brat. Yeah, friends are dumb. Why would he need friends? No, he’s glad. He’s glad he doesn’t have friends that’ll just someday betray him.

Yeah, he’s so glad he can feel his eyes sting with happiness. Tears of joy, obviously. He doesn’t need support, he doesn’t need someone to be there when he’s down, he doesn’t need any of the other shitty things friends do that the broccoli headed bitch talked about. He has sensei, he has Kurogiri, and he has his “family.” That’s more than enough.

…..

Fuck. It’s just not fair. He doesn’t need friends but he can’t deny that it doesn’t sound appealing. Why do snot nosed brats get to have them and he doesn’t? That’s not fair! Where’s his friends? Huh? Where’s his?

His foot suddenly collided with something unrecognizable. It was soft, organic, fuzzy, the feeling made him jolt back as he took his hand away from his eyes to see whatever it was that felt disturbing him was a good idea.

There, on the ground, was some dirty little mutt, wagging its tail obnoxiously fast and holding the can of soda he had previously kicked in its mouth. It looked at him expectantly.

“What?”

There was no answer, only the uncomfortable silence as it was looking at him with some irresistible, pleading expression… ugh, he knows there’s a phrase for it… uhh guppy frog eyes? Pruppy log eyes? Pruppy is that even a word…. Whatever that’s not important. He just wished the mutt would stop looking at him like that.

“WHAT?!” He yelled, losing his temper.

The can clattered to the ground as the doggie barked back at him playfully, mimicking his volume.

Shigaraki growled picking up said can and chucking it back from whence it came. The dog yipped obediently, bounding off towards the direction he threw. Fuck, finally, he’s alone. He’s glad the mutt left before he had to-

He’s stopped again by the dog, this time by it spitting out the same can at his feet enthusiastically. Huh.

Shigaraki picked it up again and threw it, noticeably less aggressively, and watched as it happily bounded too and fro with the can, waiting eagerly for him to do it again. So he did. Then again and again as he watched the dog twirl and pounce with excitement.

Before he knew it, he found himself caught up in a game of fetch, cheering as it continued to retrieve the can without fail. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until someone else started coming towards him.

“Hey! What’re you doing with my dog?”

What WAS he doing with the dog? Why was he… smiling? I mean, he wasn’t happy… was he? That doesn’t make sense. He’s never happy. So the unfamiliar warmth in his chest is obviously something else. Yeah, and the smiling, well that was obviously just a muscle reaction from the stench of the nearby dumpsters. Obviously.

“I said, what are you doing with my dog freak?”

Shigaraki crouched, snapping his fingers a little to get the pups attention before scooping it up. It wiggled in his grasp affectionately, attempting to lick his face with every movement causing Shigaraki to chuckle. When he heard himself doing that he was filled with disgust.

“Uh, yeah sorry I-haha, stop it!-I saw this dog and I don’t know one thing led to another and I guess I lost track of time… playing… with it…”

Shigarakis smile fell at his own confession. Playing. He was playing with the damn mutt. Fuck, who was he? What is he doing? He’s Shigaraki Tomura damn it! Infamous super villain not some little kid! He can’t be seen frolicking with puppies!

“Oh, playing with it? Mmm, ok.” The owner looked… disappointed. Weird.

“Uh, here” he said, unceremoniously trying to shove the pup into his hands but finding trouble as it struggled. It whined and scraped at him arms, scurrying back into his grasp as he tried to give it to the real owner.

He grunted with effort, the dirt and filth clinging to the pups fur rubbing onto his skin and making him scowl. After a moment, the owner sighed, reaching over and grabbing the yelping dog.

“Ugh. Finally.” The owner sighed. “You didn’t feed him anything did you?”

“Uh, no?” It was then that Shigaraki noticed the pups ribs pressing against its skin. “Maybe you should.”

The owner cackled. “Hah, good one. Yeah maybe I’ll let him sleep inside too when it rains!”

“……what?”

The owner gasped. “Oh, you haven’t heard? I’m starting a dog fighting ring!” He happily boasted to Shig, looking like a little girl talking about her upcoming birthday party. “So, you know, I gotta keep ‘em mad so they want to fight! What do you think? Is it time to file the teeth down into points?”

File the teeth into points? What the fuck?! I mean… seriously, what the fuck?!

For a moment, Shigaraki said nothing. Staring back and forth between him and the dog while masking his blooming rage with an impressive poker face.

“Can I see the mutt again?”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Here.” He handed off the enthusiastic puppy, who eagerly took the opportunity to jump back into Shigarakis arms.

“Perfect.” Shigaraki held the dog up before him, looking head to toe-bean. “Hmmm yup. This dogs gonna have a much better time without you.”

The guy chuckled nervously. “W-what do you mean?”

Shigaraki couldn’t hold back his smile anymore, lips spreading into a malicious grin. “I tell ya I really needed this. I had a shit day, you know?” Shigaraki took a step forward, and the guy took a step back.

“It’s always refreshing when I find some asshole that I can teach a lesson.”

He took another step forward, the guy another step back. “W-w-what do you mean? This isn’t funny!!”

Shigaraki giggled. “It’s a little funny! I mean, what are the chances that you, a dog abusing asshat would run into me? Shigaraki Tomura! Dog lover!”

His eyes widened with recognition. “N-no!” Tears welled up as he was backed up against the alley wall. Dead end.

Shigaraki pulled father out of his pocket and put it on, shattering any false hopes of this still being a prank. “Yes!”

“P-p-please don’t kill me! I-“ but Shigaraki had heard enough. He’s already pressed his hand into the man’s chest, watching with glee as he coughed up blood and bile as his body rotted away. The familiar crimson syrup spilled out as more parts of him succumbed to decomposition like a line of dominoes.

Shigaraki loved that face. That’s the face of someone who would wail out in pain if they could, but alas, his lungs were one of the first things to go.

Then, as quickly as it started, it was over, and the man was reduced to nothing more than a foul smelling, murky red puddle.

Shigaraki smiled, looking down to the puppy who had seemingly calmed down as it rested its head into Shigarakis chest comfortably. Cute.

Gently, the pup was lowered to the ground, when, having felt the cold gravel of the floor, promptly jumped back into Shigarakis arms.

“What?”

The dog looked up at him expectantly again.

“Ok. Yeah. I said I was a dog lover. I heard it too ok? But that doesn’t mean anything! … I mean sure, I killed your owner so you wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and sure you’re still a puppy and wouldn’t know how to fend for yourself. And you’re dirty… and hungry… and… cold.” Shigaraki frowned, staring down at the dog sympathetically before growling in frustration.

“Well what do you want me to do? Huh? You can’t live with me!” He shouted, looking down at the dog like he was expecting a verbal response.

The dog gave him the look, the same one that got him into this mess to begin with. And deep down, he had to admit he felt his icy, frost-bitten heart thaw, just a little.

“Tch! Fine! Whatever. You can stay with me. But you better not stink up the place. And don’t bite… actually no, do bite people. Especially Dabi.”

The pup wagged its tail enthusiastically, licking his face before forcefully climbing into his hoodie.

“Hey! Careful!”

Before the dog could fall Shigaraki put his hands into his pocket and pushed his hoodie against his chest, creating a little foothold for the doggie, who then popped his head and paws out of the hem of his hoodie.

Once everything settled, Shigaraki gently rested his chin against the dogs head, the furry munchkin being a little too snuggly and comfortable for his own good. And to his own surprise, he smiled again. Genuinely. Wholesomely. He didn’t know why but… he was happy.

He had to admit, maybe the green haired brat was onto something with that whole friends bullshit. Maybe he finally found his.

Maybe the world isn’t so bad now that he doesn’t have to go through it alone.

#shigaraki tenko #my hero academia #shigaraki fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura #mha fluff #bnha fluff #doggo

[cutiepieautistic]

How I think different homestuck characters would stim(because let's be honest here,they're all autistic. Especially the trolls,haha)

Damara: tapping her fingers,rocking(stress stim),twirling her hair,"strumming the air"(I don't know how to put into words what this stim looks like,but it's one of my favorite go to's whenever I'm bored, lol it's good trust me.)

Aradia: happy flappy! Brushing her hair,braiding it,playing with it against her lips(this one tickles hehe) red tangles,playing with leather products,rubbing her fingers over her whip,pressure from her clothes/accessories,spinning around in her skirt. Something tells me she would like playing with marbles???? Idk.

Dirk: weighted horse stuffies. Horse figurines. Stimming with his tools. Stimming with different technological stuff. Visual stimming with lights. Tapping on metal things. Stimming with Fleece blankets. Vestibular stimming. Stomping feet. Leg bounce.

Terezi: edible chalk. Hard candies. Stuffies. Chew necklaces. Stimming with cosplay tails. Rubbing her horns. Weighted blankets. Shiny objects. Scented objects. Putty. Jumping up and down,running around. Dancing,tapping her collarbones with her fists. Fidget jewelry. Sweet flavoured drinks and soft,chewy foods. Stim toys that make a lot of noises(bells,beads,etc etc)

Nepeta: animal fur. Leather,other heavily textured things. Weighted stuffies. Scented plushies. Yarn fidgets. Worry stones. Tapping hard surfaces,snapping fingers. Wiggling fingers. Drawing,finger painting. Chewing. Kneading things(like how cats will "make biscuits") shaking her tail. Cuddling. Biting things(when frustrated) kicking her legs back and forth. Spinning around. Petting her tail. "Wagging" her tail. Doing the signature cat-girl pose

#text #LMAO i accidentally posted this instead of keeping in my drafts lollll #this isn't um. finished yet haha #autismposting #autism headcanons #this is a wip still btw!!! i will add on more later #hs #homestuck headcanons #homestuck fandom #hs tw

[3knecrotic]

Petra, saying some of the most fucked up, threatening, earnest, degrading bullshit that I couldn't even Think of saying to anyone in a million years, to me:

Me, giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair, nuzzling into my pillow imagining it's her chest, wagging my proverbial tail at mach 9:

#dk speaks #i love her sm i love her sm i love her sm #petra i know youre gonna see this be mine forever

[shloppyshtyle]

kicking my feet giggling twirling my hair wagging my tail purring heart aflutter whenever my boyfriend referred to me as his boyfriend. like haha yeah. do you need your dick sucked again? in a gay way. hehe?

#nicopost #this isn't even a 'im so grateful someone is gracing me with the bare minimum i'm so lucky' thing i'm just happy ❤️⭐☘️ #my trip went so so well i'm so relieved i just wish we were sucking tongues rn #he's the best kisser in the world btw the way he kisses is perfect for me <3 i love him sm sm sm i want to care about him forever #also it's his birthday today :D yaaayy yaaaayyy so happy he was born and exists and i get to love him yayayayayay!!!!!!!!

[starrierknight]

reece is cuter i should steal ur name darling <3 —🐉

STAWPPPPPP I'm giggling and blushing and twirling my hair and kicking my feet and wagging my tail and purring rn ヽ⁠(⁠｡⁠◕⁠o⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠.

#UR SO SWEEEEET #[ ✉ ] — reece's mail #[ ☄ ] — dearest 🐉 anon

[bigshot-circa-1997]

I love my boyfriend so fucking much oughghfhf he's so sweet

#twirls my hair kicks my feet wags my tail etc etc all in a very homosexual manner #the clown's ramblings

[collapsingintojupiter]

Sunshine and Stormclouds: Chapter 15

Catch up: Chapter 1  Chapter 1.5  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14

Summary:

It’s Roman’s birthday. Though his biological parents may not be there for him, his friends are. 

Characters: Roman Sanders, Emile Picani, Scout (oc), Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, (baby) Patton.

TW: This is little more than tooth-rotting fluff. You’re good (though of course, message me if you’d like me to put something here).

---

    It had been a long day; following an even longer night. Virgil slumped against the couch, eyes closed, his hoodie drawn up over his shoulders. Patton busied himself on the floor nearby, dressing up his bunny in a little blue doll’s dress. Several other stuffed animals that Remy had bought (though the pink bunny by far remained his favorite) lay scattered around him, and a few more assortments of doll’s clothing. 

    Remy said that Patton had a good fashion taste. Even Logan couldn’t disagree. 

    Virgil’s eyes were shut, but he was awake - unfortunate as that was - listening to Patton as he finished arranging the dress on his bunny. Once he was happy with it, he moved on to a puppy dog plush. This one he wrapped - awkwardly, with his chubby fingers - in a sparkly bit of pink cloth. Patton fiddled with that until he was content, talking to “Acha” as he arranged the scarf around the dog’s neck and body. 

    Then, a knock sounded at the door. 

    “Hrggyph,” Virgil muttered to nothing in particular, and slowly opened an eye. The bit of pale pink material he saw through part of the visible window was definitely not Roman’s, and Logan wouldn’t be caught dead in such a vibrant color. 

    So who...

    Wonder if they’ll go away, Virgil thought tiredly. A few seconds later, however, whoever it was knocked again. Dammit.  

He sighed. Slowly, he picked himself up from the couch, and Patton jumped up to grab his arm as he started for the door. 

    “Is Daddy home?” he asked, grabbing Virgil’s hand in one of his little ones. His dog plush dangled precariously from the other, the pink tip dragging on the floor.

    “I don’t think so, buddy,” Virgil said. Patton turned and held up his arms; his father smiled to himself as he picked the boy up. He opened the door. 

    “Oh, you’re home!” The excited voice belonged to somebody Virgil had seen before, but he wasn’t quite sure who. It was a younger boy, about Roman’s age, with crooked glasses, curly hair the color of rust, and soft brown eyes. He wore a pale pink sweater, black jeans, and a bright smile. Behind him stood another kid, though the last time Virgil saw them, he was pretty sure they’d been a pirate. Now however, they wore wearing a button-up covered in stars, ripped jeans, and converse that had been painted in a familiar style. Over all that, a too-big camo jacket that clashed with everything rested on their shoulder. 

    “Emile?” Virgil asked at last. “And...Scout?”

    “That’s us,” Scout answered with a nod. They nudged Emile, who started and blinked before nodding.

    “Right! Uh, Mr. Virgil, I think you remember us from that time we were at your house back on Halloween?” Virgil nodded, and his smile somehow got wider. “Awesome! Um, so...this might be a bit weird, but Roman’s birthday is tomorrow, and we’re...uh, we’re trying to plan something special for him. And he talks about you guys all the time, um...do you think you could help us?”

    ...forget sleep. Sleep could wait. 

    “Come on in,” Virgil said. He turned, gently setting Patton down so he could pull out his phone. Scout and Emile quickly knelt down, keeping his son busy as he placed a call to Remy. 

    “Hey, I need you over here stat,” he said as soon as the barista answered. 

    “Is something wrong?” he asked. 

    “Nothing bad, Rem,” Virgil assured. “Um, Emile and Scout are here; they told me Roman’s birthday is tomorrow. We’re gonna need your help.” 

    Remy’s response was instant.

    “Say no more, I’m on my way,” he said. Before Virgil could say anything else, he hung up. 

    “Who was that?” Scout asked as he put his phone back in his pocket. Virgil chuckled. 

    “You remember the Dragon Witch on Halloween?”

    “Yeah?”

    “He’s on his way now. Much better at this stuff than I am.” Virgil checked his watch, hid a yawn, then glanced at the two kids again. “My husband should be back in about an hour from school. He’ll also be more than willing to help. Don’t worry, we’ll get this figured out.”

    “Yes!” Emile grinned widely, wiggling in excitement. “We’re gonna make Roman so happy!”

    Virgil felt his heart warm as he sat down with the kids to wait, whereupon Patton came over and crawled into his lap. “Where is Roman now?” he asked, helping his son sit up. 

    “He said he had to help his mom with something,” Scout said. Their voice sounded tense; like they knew what he did - what he knew only because of the horrible nights he’d faced alone, with drunken laughter downstairs and his stomach cringing with hunger. Virgil shook his head violently, and a shiver twirled down his spine. He focused instead on staring at Scout’s shoes. They were black, spots of paint that looked like stars and planets. He bet it was Roman’s work.

    Soon enough, someone knocked at the door again.

    “The Dragon Witch!” Emile exclaimed, and jumped from his seat. The knock came again, before Remy flung the door open and strode inside with a grin and a wink. 

    “Well well well,” he said. “I hear there’s a birthday party we need to plan.”

    “Hell yeah,” Scout said, and Emile grinned. 

    “It’s Roman’s birthday tomorrow, and we wanna do something special for him,” he explained. Remy nodded. 

    “Good. He needs good friends like you,” he said. He looked at Virgil. “I think it’s time to go shopping. We’ll get the supplies…” he glanced at Scout and Emile, “...when you two get out of school tomorrow, I’ll pick you up. We’ll set everything up then for Roman.”

    “How will we get him over here?” Virgil asked. 

    “He’s your babysitter, you tell me.”

    “That could work.” Virgil nodded, taking Patton in his arms as he stood up. “Alright, so…”

    “We need to divide and conquer,” Remy said. “Decorations and preparation, and gifts.”

    “Logan’s very good at that,” Virgil said. “-Decoration, I mean, and I’m sure he’ll be happy to do it for Roman.”

    “I’ll text him. Scout, Emile - what do you two want to help with?”

    “I’m good at decorations,” Emile said. Scout nodded. 

    “That he is. And I know what he likes.”

    Alright - so Emile, you’ll be with me, then, and Scout will go with Virgil. Sound good to you?”

    The two kids nodded. 

    “Excellent! Let’s get this boy of ours a birthday party!”

---

        What the hell was so special about a birthday, anyway? Roman sighed, burying his head in his arms. At the front of the classroom, a history teacher droned on about something he didn’t remember; wouldn’t remember. Recently his mother had gotten a job, somehow, and was now even nastier than usual when she wasn’t drunk. Roman didn’t want to go home; he was tired; and everything ached. 

    At least...at least, he got to babysit Patton again today. Roman stared at his fingernails; at the chipped edges, and ignored his classmates. The teacher continued to drone. The clock was getting closer to three, but it wasn’t there yet. 

    Finally, the bell rang. 

    Roman let out another sigh; he got his backpack and slung it around his shoulder, and started tiredly for the door. 

    Outside it was frigid, and though his jacket was warm it wasn’t warm enough. He’d forgotten his warmer one. Roman wondered how the puppy was; how Emile was. Briefly, the thought allowed him to smile. Maybe Remy would be at Virgil and Logan’s house, and let him see Prince. That would be nice. He reached up, tracing the embroidered letters with his finger. Prince. 

    He didn’t feel like a prince. 

    He couldn’t feel much of his hands or face by the time he came to the street where the Sanders lived, kicking at stones as he passed Mr. D’s house. He saw the older man in the window, staring at him. There was something unsettling about it, that he couldn’t put words to. Roman shivered and continued. 

    He stopped at the familiar blue door, adjusted his backpack straps, and knocked. 

    “SURPRISE!” The enthusiastic shout ripped him out of his thoughts with a force that nearly knocked him sideways; as it was Roman jumped, letting out a startled yelp. 

    “Happy birthday!” Emile and Scout shrieked in unison, sharing excited smiles as they rushed forward to greet him. Roman’s eyes widened, and he found himself laughing as they hugged him - Emile’s gentle touch, and Scout’s bone crushing grip.

    “You-you guys knew?” he asked at last, overwhelmed by the streamers and people, and Logan and Virgil smiling at him...and was Remy holding a cake?

    “Of course we did!” Scout laughed and punched his shoulder, then grabbed his hand and tugged him inside. “C’mon, you gotta try the cake we made. Well, Emile made it. Either way it’s good.”   

    Something small and furry ran up to him, barking and wagging its tail. 

    “PRINCE!” Roman yelped. He dropped to his knees by the puppy’s side, and it leapt into his lap to enthusiastically lick his face. He cradled the pup in his arms, gently running his hands along its soft black and brown fur. Prince was already bigger than it had been when he’d found it, with floppy ears and a goofy smile.

    “We think he’s a mutt,” Remy had said. Roman didn’t care - he loved the pup regardless.

    “Happy birthday to you…” his eyes widened as the others started singing to him, and he scrambled to his feet with Prince still in his arms--holy shit, he thought. How did they all have such beautiful voices? Logan, the stiff teacher and Virgil...their voices swelled in a perfectly complimenting harmony, leading the group in the song. Remy’s voice followed, a pure tenor; and Emile - though his voice was softer than the others, he sounded just like an angel to Roman. 

    He tried not to cry but he did, and as the others stopped singing Scout grabbed him in a hug, letting him bury his face in their sweatshirt. There they held him until he was breathing steadily again, and they let go; the others had gathered in the kitchen and smiled at him. 

    “Hope you’re hungry Roman!” Remy announced, and gestured to the dining room table where several boxes of pizza and tubs of ice cream had been lined up in a neat row. Roman’s jaw dropped, and the others grinned. 

    “Everybody get your fill; then we’ll meet in the living room. We got a movie ready to play and presents ready to open.”

    “Presents!?” Roman blurted, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Virgil chuckled good-naturedly, and even Logan smiled. 

    “That’s right!” Remy said. “Just for you, my boy!”

    “Let’s get pizza!” Emile took Roman’s hand, and he felt himself melting into the other boy’s embrace as he pulled him towards the table. “Look, see? We ordered your favorite!”

    “Olive pizza!” Roman’s face broke into an open-mouthed look of amazement, and after gently setting Prince down he reached out and piled several slices onto his plate. Scout and Emile joined him; Remy followed with a wide smile, and Virgil and Logan took up the line in the back. Balloons crowded against each other on the ceiling; their strings dangled down in front of him. Roman looked up, and shades of gold and white and red looked back. He smiled. 

    “Guess what movie we’re gonna watch?” Emile asked as they sat down. Roman raised an eyebrow at him, unable to contain the happy expression on his face. 

    “What movie?” he asked. Scout sat down on his other side, yawning and leaning against his shoulder. Emile leaned against his other side, and gave him a look to melt his heart all over again. 

    “Beauty and the Beast!” he giggled. “Your favorite!”

    “How did you-”

    “I told him,” Scout said, grinning at the look of dumbfoundment on his face. They took a bite out of their mushroom pizza (ew) as Virgil and Logan entered. They took the other sofa, seating Patton between them with his little slice of cheese pizza. Remy was the last to come in, pepperoni his choice of the evening. He sat down, and Virgil got the remote and started the movie. 

    It was better than Roman remembered. The colors seemed brighter, and better, and warmer. Maybe that was Scout and Emile, leaning against him as if to chase away the cold that had settled into his bones, or Emile’s laughter that was soft and sweet like bells; like sugar pastries and autumn mornings where the sun’s warmth is gentle on your back. Scout’s, on the other hand, was sharp, like dogs barking in the dead of night and icicles shattering on the sidewalk. 

    He loved them both. 

    Roman knew what Scout knew though, that he was hopelessly in love with the Picani boy. He loved everything about him - his soft curls, and big eyes, and round glasses that always sat crookedly on his nose no matter how many times he fiddled with the frames. He loved his smile, and his laugh, and his voice.

    And when the other boy leaned against him, and gently reached out to hold his hand...Roman felt like he knew what Heaven was. 

    Scout glanced at him, chuckled to themself at his happy expression, and turned back towards the TV. Together they watched the story play out, laughing and joking and sharing goofy smiles with each other as they discussed the scenes. They all booed at Gaston, and agreed that the candlestick and clock were very much gay. 

    And then, all too soon, it was over. The credits rolled and Roman let out a soft sigh, feeling Emile’s chest rise and fall as he breathed - fast asleep against his shoulder. Their paper plates were stacked on the coffee table - the pizza long gone - and Virgil held Patton. The little boy had also fallen asleep, and slept contentedly in his father’s arms. 

    “I’ll go put him in his room,” Virgil said at last, his voice soft. “Then you can open your presents, Roman.”

    The presents! Roman realized, suddenly, that he’d forgotten all about those. Remy noticed the look on his face and laughed, which startled Emile awake. He muttered something under his breath, yawned, and looked up into Roman’s eyes. 

    God he’s so cute. 

    Roman smiled at him, and Emile smiled back. Then he reached up, and lightly tapped his nose. 

    “Boop!” he giggled. Roman felt his face turn an embarrassing shade of red, and he ducked to try and hide it - which would’ve been fine, had Emile’s hand not gotten tangled up in his hair. The next thing he knew they were both doubled over with laughter, and Emile was attempting to squeak out an apology in between gasps for air. When they finally recovered Roman saw Scout, leaning back and shaking their head; they were laughing too, and Remy and Logan shared a look that was both amused and affectionate. Virgil came back into the room, saw the spectacle, and let out a sigh. He too, however, failed to hide a smile as he sat down. 

    Emile struggled to compose himself with the others, one hand clasping Roman’s shoulder. His glasses looked more crooked than ever; his messy curls tangled and dangling over the rims. Eventually, he pulled himself upright. 

    “Present time!” he yelped, and burst out laughing again. Roman and Scout joined in, as the adults brought out a small collection of somethings and set it on the floor and coffee table in front of him.

    Once he’d finally calmed himself, Roman slid off the couch to kneel in front of his presents. Remy set Prince down and the puppy ran over to join him - his heart felt so warm and full he thought it might burst, looking over the shiny wrapping paper and the kind expressions in Virgil and Logan’s eyes. Gingerly, he reached out and took the first gift. 

From Remy, it said. He gently pulled away the red and gold wrapping, and his eyes widened at the colors upon colors upon colors of nail polish he found packed neatly into a black and red nail kit bag. On the top of the bag, his name was embroidered: Roman, in swirling gold type. 

    “I love it!” he cried, and gently picked up one of the colors - a shimmering beetle green - before putting it back. He couldn’t wait to try it out.

    The next present was...well, he knew Scout had tried, at least. Paper wrapping wasn’t exactly their specialty. Nonetheless Roman unwrapped it gently, and hugged the new sketchpad that revealed itself to his chest. 

    “There’s also some stickers inside for you,” they said - were they nervous? What a strange thought; but Roman couldn’t deny the slight tremble; the tingle of anxiety in their voice. He smiled at them. 

    “I can’t wait to draw in it,” he said. “This is the perfect size.”

    From Logan, read the third gift, tagged neatly with a sharpie. The wrapping paper revealed something soft, and something not - new gloves, in his favorite shade of red, and a book. It claimed to be a fantasy book, and Roman felt tears stinging his eyes as he looked over the cover. He imagined Logan, standing in the fantasy section of a bookstore, with no idea of what any of the books contained. 

    “This one was rated very highly,” Logan explained matter-of-factly. “I do...hope that you enjoy it.”

    “Thank you,” Roman said softly, trying to blink away the tears. The gloves and book he gently set aside - somehow, Logan must have realized that his old ones were worn. 

    Two presents remained. He picked up one of them; From Virgil, it said. The paper presented a box when he pulled it away; inside the box was a soft puppy plush that was black and brown just like Prince, with a red bandana around its neck. The word Prince was hastily stitched onto it in yellow, and as he looked up at Virgil the father glanced aside. 

    “I...I’m sorry you can’t keep the real one,” was all he said, in a terribly soft voice. There were tears in his eyes too, Roman realized. “I hope this helps.”

    “It...it does,” he said. He hugged the plush dog close, and sniffled; with his other hand he gently petted the real dog. “Thank you, Virgil.”

    “Of course.”

    The last present was Emile’s. Roman hesitantly reached for it; he felt Emile tense as he pulled the paper away - it was a beanie. A soft one, with stripes of blue, yellow, and pink. Roman’s eyes widened, and he looked abruptly up at Emile. 

    “You...you made this?” he asked softly. 

    “Yeah. I hope it’s okay? I tried to make it as close to your flag as possible, and I-” he was cut off as Roman crashed into him, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s shoulders and hugging him tightly. 

    “I love it,” he whispered, and now he really was crying. “Thank you...thank you all so much.”

    He felt the warmth of another body beside him, and Roman opened one eye to see that Scout had joined the hug. Then Remy came over, followed by Virgil, and soon even Logan joined the group. Though Roman sort of expected it to be awkward...it felt really nice, surrounded by everybody he loved and who loved him in return. He felt himself smile 

    Thank you guys, for the best birthday ever.

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #emile picani #roman sanders #remy sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sunshine and storm clouds #sunshine and stormclouds

[torchiiko]

ehenevr i rb art now i try 2 say smth nice abt it bc it makes me super happy when ppl do that 4 my art too ^^

#compliments on my art get me kicking my feet twirling my hair wagging my tail going teehee :3 #idk how often bigger artists check their notes especially after like a day but 4 someone like me compliments rlly make my day !! #growing an audience 4 art is. a slow process n sometimes i dont get Any notes so the rare positive comment in tags means a lot :3 #i dont rlly wanna put one of those rbs > likes things on my art posts cuz idk if they even help :/ #tbh. i almost wish u could see ppls follower counts bc i never know if the notes they get is mostly from tags or their existing followers #srry this was supposed 2 be a positivity post i got sidetracked here #artists love compliments pls tell them nice things (source: am artist) #torch chatter

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 15/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774  

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Rey woke up around six in the afternoon. Her clothes stuck to her sweat-drenched skin, much like her hair. BB8 was lying in the back seat, chewing on her old sock.

She shuffled out of the car, wondering how on earth she was going to make herself presentable. She’d showered yesterday but it felt like ages ago—in a matter of hours she had sweated, taken a tumble in the leaves, wandered into a thorn bush, rolled around in a pile of nettles, fought with an actual bear, and managed to sweat even more in the aftermath. She was covered in dirt, scratches, and leaf litter. Not to mentioned that she reeked of dog slobber. At this point, a shower seemed less of a luxury and more of a necessity. But where was she going to do that?

She recoiled at the thought of calling Ben Solo again. Better not get too dependent, too burdensome...what kind of post-breakup-soul-searching-road-trip would this be if she was constantly relying on the first man that crossed her path?

She opted for a campsite, she would have to spend the night somewhere anyway. And since she was sleeping in the car she wouldn’t have to bother with the whole tent business. She was carrying a lightweight dress and makeup essentials in her bag. It would suffice for this evening. As for BB8, she would be coming along—the poor girl—she didn’t have to spend the evening chained to the car.

***

Cigarette in hand, Ben reviewed Snoke’s responses to the leaked information from Rey’s phone as he sat on the terrace of the Town Square Tavern.

According to his files, her employer—Smart Berries—was a London-based startup specializing in targeted advertising. Their app used a patented algorithm to identify potential customers for various businesses. It was nothing remotely compromising. They had zero presence abroad. Just a team of fifty people, most of them myopic computer geeks or Frappuccino-guzzling business newbies. No connection whatsoever with Earth Soldiers or FORCE. Rey’s primary contacts consisted of her ex-fiancé Finn Storm who also worked in IT, and his boyfriend Poe Dameron who was a mechanic. She went out for lunch every afternoon, paid her taxes on time, donated regularly to cancer research initiatives, and lived a generally uneventful life. No prior political engagement, revolutionary plotting, activism, or discernable link to any ecological organizations whatsoever. The investigation into Jessika Pava returned similar results. The one thing that stood out to Ben was that Rey was born to absentee parents and raised by an adopted family.

“That makes two of us,” he sighed as he picked up his phone to text her his location. She would likely show up on time.

In the central plaza, a crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch a group of comedians perform an Old West skit. Saloon girls strutted around in billowy red satin bloomers. Military men paraded in on horses waving the Stars and Stripes, and daring cowboys performed a mock duel with toy pistols. The crowd was in full swing, laughing and cheering along.

Night fell slowly, the air still humid, the sky eventually turning pitch black. Kylo and the band dispersed into the crowd, with the exception of Syed who was still under orders to shadow Rey. Wherever she went,  Syed was never far away. Syed tore through the crowd in Ben’s direction, silently wishing she was slicing through something else entirely.

Ben couldn’t help but find her beautiful, in her black leather pants, studded belt and combat boots. She stood in front of him, raising the cigarette she twirled between her fingers to her lips.

“So, how was your day?” he asked, feigning indifference.

“I went on a twelve mile hike, confronted a bear, saved your girlfriend’s life, and then watched her sleep for three hours. I wasn’t exactly idle. What about you?”

“You saved her life?” He exclaimed, no longer able to maintain a poker face.

“Yeah. She’ll probably tell you, she’s going to be here any minute now.” Syed responded, looking behind her as if to pick someone out of the crowd. Ben followed her gaze.

That’s when he saw her.

To this day he had only ever seen her in jeans and a t-shirt, her feet clad in ankle boots and her hair tousled at best. But now he hardly recognized the woman approaching him.

Rey was wearing a blush pink silk dress and high heeled sandals that accentuated her elegant figure. The silk flowed effortlessly down her body, held up by thin straps. She had evidently forgone a bra. Her hair was swept into a loose updo, with a few rebel strands escaping to frame her lightly  made-up face.

Ben suddenly felt overly warm. He swallowed the lump in his throat, cursing his own weakness as he felt a blush creeping up his face. Syed tapped him under the jaw.

“Close your mouth or you’re going to catch flies.” She intoned.

Rey held a small purse in one hand (just big enough for her phone and wallet) and a leash in the other. BB8 trotted along nearby, chewing contently on a red rubber ball that was too large for her jaw and wagging her tail excitedly.

But the dog froze as soon as she caught sight of Ben, growling viciously. The sound that came out was garbled, muffled by the rubber ball. Ben rose to pull out a chair for Rey. He had a hard time finding the right words.

“Good evening. You look...beautiful. What will you be drinking?”

“Margarita, thanks.”

She sat down, hanging the leash on the back of her chair. BB8’s eyes were still glued to Ben as the growling continued. He looked down on her disdainfully and contemplated a swift kick in her direction. The dog was easily within  range of his boot—but that would surely ruin the evening. He gingerly moved his foot away.

Syed broke her silence, crushing the end of her lipstick-stained cigarette into an ashtray. “I’m going to see what Saul is up to. Call me if you need me Kylo, I’ve got my cell.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and disappeared into the sea of passers by. A waitress brought a margarita for Rey and a  pint of Rainier for Ben. They clinked glasses.

“So, did you have a good day?” Ben asked finally, strangely hesitant.

“I don’t know,” Rey replied, taking a long sip of the sugary tequila concoction through her straw. She looked up at Ben with gleaming eyes. “I fought a bear...”

“Oh, you too?” Ben asked, immediately regretting his untimely slip up.

Rey frowned, obviously perplexed. “What do you mean, me too? Do you know a lot of people who have fought bears?”

“Er no I meant—I thought it was just some British expression or something—to say that you’ve had a rough day?”

Rey burst out laughing.

Nice save.

“No, but it could be! Believe it or not, I fought an actual bear.”

Ben’s eyes widened. “If you fought a bear there’s no way you would have escaped, unscathed, to tell the tale.”

“You don’t believe me?” Rey feigned offense. “Would you bet on it?”

“A bet?” Ben took a gulp of his beer. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed. What the hell was the story with this bear? He knew Rey was danger-prone but this was too much even for her. “Alright, you’re on. What are the conditions?”

Rey lit up instantly. She had Ben right where she wanted him. He wasn’t particularly well dressed this evening but she found a surprising amount of grace, watching him in the dimming glow of twilight. His shoulders were massive and his mouth too large, his nose too long and his ears slightly too big for his face. She had lost count of his beauty marks. But it all seemed to work, his features coming together in atypical harmony. What she really liked was his hair. It fell in thick waves to the nape of his neck and she suddenly had the urge to run her fingers through it. The idea of sliding her nails through was enough to make heat bloom in her stomach.

She crossed her legs to clamp down on the impulse as she feigned an air of nonchalance. “If I can prove that I fought a bear today, you have to...let me pleat your hair.”

Ben broke out into a laugh—the genuine  sort of laughter that Rey had never heard from him before. She smiled. It suited him, tracing dimples along his cheeks and revealing a row of slightly imperfect teeth. The nth little flaw that added to the equilibrium of his face.

“No way,” he finally managed after he caught his breath.

Disappointed, Rey pressed her lips into an exaggerated pout. “Tell me, what would you counter, then?” Rey asked politely.

“If I win you have to teach your dog to like me,” Ben replied without missing a beat.

Rey smiled inwardly, she was touched by the fact that he wanted to make friends with BB. She couldn’t help but find his intentions adorable.

“Alright,” she agreed, but only if you let me do your hair.”

“Okay.”

That would cost him. He wasn’t afraid of looking ridiculous—what he was really afraid of was the feel of her fingers running against his scalp. Would he be able to keep himself in check? What if she noticed he was half-hard? But the truth was he had a lot to gain if he won the bet.

Rey grinned triumphantly, reaching into her bag to take out a piece of metal which she placed on the table.

Ben held it between his fingertips. “What is this? A bullet?”

“Yep. It belongs to the hunter who scared the bear off,” she confirmed.

“The bear...that you fought with?” Ben had a hard time buying it.

Rey launched into a story, gesticulating wildly as she recounted her adventure: BB8, the chipmunk, the bear and the invisible shooter.

Ben licked his lips. It all corresponded with what Syed had so succinctly reported: Confronted a bear, saved your girlfriend’s life. He could have denied it, could have asked for additional evidence that she would never be able to supply. But he already knew it was true. What point would there be in antagonizing her and calling her a liar?

He nodded. “Okay, you win.”

Rey raised her arms in victory, it was her turn to laugh. “Are you ready for a makeover?”

“Here?” Ben sputtered incredulously.

Rey grinned mischievously. “It’ll happen whenever and wherever I choose tonight,” she countered, sipping on the rest of her cocktail. She was hungry too, her stomach growled in complaint.

And so they ordered pizza. BB8 perked up at the scent. She didn’t hesitate to butt the table with her snout in begging for a slice.

Rey caught Ben’s attention. “Give her a little piece,” she whispered, “and then pet her gently. She’ll warm up to you.”

Ben obeyed, albeit with caution. The dog growled, but was unable to resist the temptation of hot pizza. She swallowed the piece whole with a single movement of her jaw. Ben slowly retrieved his hand. BB reclaimed her rightful place next to Rey, who stroked her affectionately.

“That’s it, good dog. See him? That’s Ben. You’ll get used to him eventually. I’m sure he’ll give you more pizza, and you’ll be friends. What do you say, Ben?”

“I...suppose, yes.” He wasn’t quite at ease with the animal but in order for the mission to succeed, he would have to be able to approach Rey.

She finished her pizza and ordered a second margarita, all the while licking the salt on the rim of the glass from her fingers. She raised her honey colored eyes to Ben.

“So l’ll summarize what I know about you: you play music, you drive a big pickup, and you have history with the lead guitarist. Who are you, Ben Solo? Is music your business or your pleasure?”

He diverted his gaze. He had no intention of stumbling this time. “I tour with the band for a month at a time but...the rest of the time I work at a multinational company in Silicon Valley.”

“Oh? You’re in tech?”

“No, it’s in the industrial sector. What about you?” He turned the tables on her ”I know that you’re British, that you’re single as of late, that you like music and hiking, and that you fear solitude. What do you do in life, Rey?”

She blushed. “My title is Office Experience Manager. I work in HR at a startup where I handle the well-being of the team. I make sure that they like what we do and are happy with where they are.”

That was definitely her calling. There was something luminous about her, she was like sunshine. He didn’t doubt for an instant that she brought happiness wherever she went. Ben himself was so taciturn—more like moonlight—and yet he found himself changing in her presence.

“Why do you think that I fear solitude?” She asked, dreading the response.

Ben’s hand reached out and gently swept a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She trembled slightly, making his palm brush against her cheek. She was warm to the touch. He didn’t move his hand, somehow frozen in the moment. Rey closed her eyes.

“You say you’re travelling alone, but you keep coming back to me, again and again,” he murmured breathlessly, “why?”

“You’re the first person I met here, when I was in the depths of hell. You helped me,  in your own way. Brash and intrusive...quintessentially American.”

Ben’s palm cupped her cheek. His hands were massive, he could have held her whole face in that palm.

“Rey.”

She blinked, coming back to her senses.

“Come.”

He rose, depositing a handful of cash on the table. She took the hand he offered her.

“What about BB8?” She asked softly.

“We’re not going very far. She can wait a few minutes.”

Rey let Ben pull her away—pull her in—far from the crowd. He lead her down the alley, a shelter away from prying eyes and public lighting. He grabbed her wrist, pinning her against the wall. Rey gulped. He was so close, and his gaze was so intense. He licked his lips, a tick that she had noticed on the first day they met. It gave away his apprehension. Or was it anticipation?

Slowly, she lifted her hands, and with a slight tremble, buried them in the dark waves of his hair. Obeying an irrepressible instinct, he took her face in both hands and crushed her mouth to his.

#reylo #fanfiction #modern AU #Scenic Route

[cozykhaos]

A New Sun: Part 9

I awoke next morning in a tangle of blankets and my head pounding. Maybe I had drank more of the fruit punch than I thought..

Ash was staring at me from the foot of the bed, his head cocked to the side. I licked my lips before asking. “Do you want breakfast?” His response was a fiercely wagging tail. I dropped the food in his bowl then changed into my work clothes. Outside I planted the flowers for the festival, the next day I was thankful for that decision, since Haley stopped by. The whole time she was there she kept a hanker-chief over her mouth and nose. She ended up coming by twice more that week to check on the progress, she admitted a squeal of excitement at the first bud that popped out of the soil.

By the time the Flower Festival came around I had a field of flowers and the farm smelled of spring. Ash would run through the beds of flowers, every once in awhile his head would pop up as he bounced. The sun had just started to rise, budding up over distant pines. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the morning. I was filling wicker baskets with my flowers, I had promised to deliver them this morning. An hour later my baskets were full and my fields empty except for a few parsnips. Most of them were a gift for George, the others would be the last of my crops for this season.

Next month I would be busy with so many crops available and I had already promised Mayor Lewis hot peppers and fresh veggies for the luau.

“Farmer!” Haley’s sing song voice rang out across the fields.

“Morning Haley!” I waved at her. She paused to wrap a sunflower print scarf around her nose and mouth.

“I just don’t know how you deal with this.. smell,” she said as she approached.

“I really don’t smell anything,” I shrugged and picked up a basket, shoving it in her direction.

“Oh you know the smell,” Haley motioned to the ground before taking the basket.

“Soil?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Dirt, nature, dog.”

I looked down at Ash who had his nose in the dirt, he inhaled deeply then let out a loud sneeze.

“Smells like victory,” I smiled to myself.

Haley took me to a part of the Valley that I’d never been to, it was a clearing on top of a cliff. I sat down the baskets and went to cliff edge. The blue of the ocean seemed to stretch on forever, before disappearing into the sky’s horizon. Behind me Asher yipped, I turned to look at him. He was standing several feet back from the edge, tail tucked between his legs. “Its okay buddy,” I soothed him, stepping back from the edge.

Alex stepped into the clearing, thermal mug in each hand. He gave me a small nod and approached Haley, handing her one of the mugs. “What is it?”

“Try it,” there was a small smile on his lips. She looked between him and the mug before taking a hesitant sip. “Oh, chia tea, this is good babe!” She took another drink. “Did you make this or grandma?”

Alex’s smile grew. “Grandma gave me some pointers, but I did!”

“You did a good job!” Haley took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. Alex brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.  

I shifted were I stood and dug the toe of my boot into the ground. This was awkward. My few interactions with Haley had always been short. Not only in time together, but her answers to me. Not only that, but everything I had heard about Haley were always less than nice. She was rude and selfish, seeing this side to her was.. strange.

Next to Asher let out a loud sigh that grabbed the attention to the other two.

“Farmer, come here, I need help making flower crowns. Alex, please start setting up the tables.”

At least one of us got a please.

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed making the flower crowns. I had even made one for Ash, getting a smile out of Haley as he paraded around his new accessory.

“Thanks for this Haley,” I spoke before I could stop my brain. She paused in her flower arrangement, looking up over the petals at me. “For what?” She asked.

“Having me help,” I shrugged. “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. It’s… it’s nice.”

“Yeah, of course,” Haley smiled. “Thank you for helping, I know the others hate this tradition, but,” she paused, taking a long deep breath she closed her eyes. “There is something romantic about it. Something warm. I love the dancing, the smell of the flowers, the sound of the ocean below us.” Opening her eyes, she smiled at me.

“I can see that, I’m glad I get to be here to witness it.”

An hour later we were set up, Emily had delivered the outfits, Gus had arrived with Lewis and set up the buffet. Alex had finished the picnic tables, now the other villagers were coming in. I watched as Abbie ran across the clearing, throwing herself into Sam’s arms, laughing. Sebastian was leaning against a fence post, cigarette between his lips. He says something that I can’t make out, but he received a playful punch from Abbie. I felt a frown tug on my lips, a similar tug was felt in my chest. I swallowed the lump that was forming.

“Sebastian, huh?” Haley said from next to me. We were putting the bouquets she had made onto the tables. After this I would be free.

“What about him?” I sniffed, suddenly focusing on the flower arrangement.

“You like him,” she crossed her arms across her chest, her bright blue eyes were hard. I shrugged.

“Kit!” My eyes snapped to Haley as she said my name. “Do you like him?” She asked again.

“Does it matter?” I turned away with a huff. I could feel her watching me still, but I ignored her and kept my focus on the arrangement in front of me.

“Abbie dear!” Haley’s voice sang across the field. “Could you come here please?”

I stared at Haley, mouth open as she smirked at me.

“What’s up?” Abbie was breathless as she approached us.

“Does our little Miss Farmer here have a crush on Sebby?” Haley was blunt with her question, but her voice was sickly sweet.

“Uhhh,” Abbie shot a glance over at me. I groaned, digging the palms of my hands into my eyes. I giggled erupted from Haley as she clapped her hands together. “Oh this is just perfect, yes!” Haley spun in a circle, her blue skirt flaring out around her legs.

“What?” I looked between Abbie and Haley.

“YOU and HIM, it is SO perfect, how could I not see it BEFORE!?” Haley’s voice was becoming more shrill as she spoke. “Haley, what’s going on?” Emily asked coming up to us.

“Farmer likes Sebastian!” Haley clapped her hands in excitement. I slapped my hand over her mouth. “Shut up, before he hears you!”

There was a muffled reply from Haley.

“Haley, don’t interfere. Kit obviously doesn’t want him to know.” Emily frowned.

Haley pushed my hand away and shook her head. “But he is just so… awkward and totally oblivious to everything.”

“That’s what I said!” Abbie nodded. “And it’s true. You have to grab him by the face and be like ‘Sebastian, I like you. I have since we were kids, that’s why I shoved you off the dock that one time. Then that other time we were in the mines and I kicked a rock, it bounced off the wall and hit you in the head and thought I killed you-’”

I groaned. “I thought we were never going to mention that again.”

“I cried, a lot.”

“I legit thought he was dead!”

“Then you take him by his dumb face and kiss him!” Abbie batted her big blue eyes at me.

“Yeah, or something like that!” Haley nodded. Emily shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, Kitten-”

“Kit.”

“Kitten,” Haley purred. “Sebastian has only had like two girlfriends his whole life. The longest one was with that girl Yuki and that was hella toxic!”

“Hella,” Abbie agreed.

“And he is totally oblivious when someone likes him, because he just doesn’t think someone can like him!” Haley flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “So go and work your charms on him girl!”

“I have zero charm,” I mumbled.

“Zero,” Abbie echoed. I glared at her.

Haley looked between the two of us, a scheme forming behind her eyes. “Abbie, congrats girl, you are out of the dance this year. Kit, you are taking Abbie’s spot!”

“Oh, that’s dirty,” Emily winced.

“I like that,” Abbie cackled.

“So what?” I asked. “I have to do your dumb cult dance, woo-hoo!” I twirled my finger.

“You have to do the dance with Sebby,” Haley winked at me.

“Well fuck.”

I started towards the fields entrance, Abbie, Emily and Haley grabbed me and dragged me backwards. I stumbled over my boots and fell hard onto the ground. I groaned and leaned back into the grass. I’m beauty, I’m grace, I’ll fall on my face.

“Get up,” Haley demanded. “People are staring, get up before I make a scene.”

“She’ll do it Kit, get up!” Emily urged. I scrambled to my feet, dusting myself off. Ash trotted over to me, his flower crown had fallen off playing with Pepper. “I don’t want to do this!” I crossed my arms over my chest, a scowl on my face. “Look at me, I’m a mess!” I motioned to my grass stained jeans and muddy boots. Even my tank top was dirty and pulled my plaid over shirt closed.

“That’s okay, you get an itchy dress to wear!” Abbie beamed.

“And I’m sure Emily can do something with your hair,” Haley picked a piece of my red curls between two fingers. She let it fall to my shoulder, before she flicked it back with the same two fingers.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” I whimpered before gathering my beloved curls over my shoulder and holding it close.

“It’s just.. messy,” Haley shrugged. She wasn’t lying, it was messy, I hadn’t been taking care of it since I moved onto the farm.

“Come on Kit,” Emily took my hand in hers. She pulled me along, I glanced back over my shoulder, Abbie had a wide smile on her face and she waved at me. Haley was smirking, she tossed her hair over her shoulder before she skipped off.

Within the hour Emily had me in the dress meant for Abbie to wear today. It was a good thing we were similar in size. She had braided my hair back, two curls framed my impish face. I had tanned since moving to the valley and she didn’t have any foundation that matched my new complexion, she was able to frame my big green eyes in black liner. Emily smiled as she looked me over.

“This dress is itchy,” I looked down at the monstrous dress. Even though it was the correct size, it still managed to swallow me. I found Maru across the changing tent, the small woman was nearly lost in a sea of tulle.

Emily laughed. “It is!

“How come you don’t have to do this?” I asked.

“I did up until.. oh I don’t know, four year ago?” Her nose scrunched up. “I danced with Shane. He is a surprisingly great dancer! I however am not. I tripped over my own feet and fell, knocking down Penny who was next to me. The whole line went down like dominoes. I was out after that.” Emily laughed. “Poor Shane though, I think he might of actually enjoyed it though.” Emily fidgeted with her hands.

“You should ask him to dance then,” I bumped her shoulder with mine.

“Oh no.. I couldn’t,” she shook her head.

“You just got me all dolled up to make me dance with Sebastian,” I started. “If you don’t think for a single second I will drag you across the field and shove you into Shane and hold up a radio for you guys to dance together, think again!”

“Haley would be mortified,” Emily spoke softly. I glanced around the tent for the queen bee, she was near a mirror, arranging a flower crown of blue jazz upon her golden waves of hair.

“Well then,” I huffed. “I will think of another way to have you dance.” I grabbed my own flower crown and jammed it on my head. Emily straightened my crown of purple tulips. Outside music started, I got into my place in line, behind Maru and walked out.

I was thankful that the dance was easy, the steps simple and the music terrible. I was also thankful for the five years of summer dance class that my mother shoved me into as a child. I was not a bad dancer and before being swallowed up into the Joja Corporation black hole I would frequent night clubs with my friends. Still, I felt nothing had prepared me for this and my heart hammered in my ears. I couldn’t hear the music any more over the roar of blood in my ears. On the edge of the crowd Abbie gave me a thumbs up and smile, I wanted nothing more than to flick her off and punch that smile clean off her face. I took a deep breath and looked at Sebastian who was standing across from me, clearly confused at his change in partner. I shrugged, then took in his outfit. Biting my lip I kept myself from laughing. It was a denim explosion and it was hilarious to see him out of his usual dark skinny jeans and black shirt.

‘Shut up,” he mouth at me. Suddenly the panic stopped and I smiled at him, the music came back and my heart calmed. A new song came over the speakers and the dance started. Sebastian kept his eyes on his feet as he moved towards me, his fingers tapped against the side of his legs. I flowed through the steps that Haley had taught me. His fingers intertwined through mine as we spun. He clenched my fingers tightly as we moved into our next steps. I looked down at our hands, then back up at him. He was biting his bottom lip, his eyes still on his feet.

“Bash,” I whispered. He glance up at me, just for a second, his dark eyes met mine. “Bash, breath.”

He let out a long breath of air, he squeezed my hand again, his eyes locked onto mine. The music faded out and the dance was over. We took our bow to the sound of applause.

“Kit you were so good!” Abbie bounced over to me.

“I think I might make you a permanent dancer,” Haley smiled at me, she was wrapped up in Alex’s arms who placed a kiss on her cheek. She wasn’t paying much attention to him, instead her eyes were glued to Sebastian hand, it was still clenching mine. I looked over at him, he was still staring at me, his head slightly cocked to the side.

“You okay Bash?” I asked, looking him over. His other hand was clenching and unclenching over and over. He was still on the verge of a panic attack.

“Fine!” He finally gasped out.

“Oh Sebby!” Robin slammed into Sebastian almost knocking him over and our hands finally came apart. “You did so good!” Kissing her son on the cheek she held him at arms length.

“Mom!” Sebastian tried wiping the kiss off with his shoulder. Asha and Asher came bounding over and bounced around my feet.

“I don’t know about everyone else, but I want out of these clothes and some food!” Sam came over and rubbed his stomach.

“Saaaame!” Alex groaned out.

“Food sounds amazing!” Maru said, Demetrius putting a wall of over protective dad between her and Harvey.

Just like that the moment was gone.

#A New Sun #Stardew Valley #Stardew Valley Fanfiction #Stardew Valley Video Game #Sebastian Stardew Valley #Stardew Valley Sebastian #Sebastian Fanfiction #Sebastian x Farmer #Farmer x Sebastian #Stardew Valley Farmer #Farmer Stardew Valley

[the-real-anywolf]

Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: My Black Cat Brings All the Boys to the Yard

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Benadryl Makes an Appearance, Curses, Movie References, Cutesy pet names, multiple POVs, You're Welcome For The Earworm, Happy Friday 13th

Summary: When a cute black cat turns up at the bunker, the Winchesters realize it isn't quite as it seems. Also, despite it triggering Dean's allergies, he can't help liking the little furball. It's a shame he can't keep him.

Written by: @eyesofatragedy67​ (Eyes_of_a_Tragedy) & @punk-is-notdead​ (tfw_cas)

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775495

Day 13:  My Black Cat Brings All the Boys to the Yard

Dean was walking through the door of the bunker when a dark blur ran in front of him and down the stairs. What the hell?

"Sammy! Something's headed your way!"

Sam looked startled as the blur shot towards him, and brushed against his legs. He looked down at it and his features softened. “It’s a cat. What’s it doing in here?”

Eyes watering, Dean started heading toward the bathroom. "Hell if I know. Be right back. I'm gonna grab some Benadryl."

He rushed down the hall, nose already starting to run. Crap, he needed to nip this in the bud. Rifling through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, he swallowed two of the little pink pills dry and shoved some tissue up his nose.

When he got back to the library, Sam had the furry menace on the table and was lightly petting its head. “Where’d you come from, huh?” he asked curiously.

"Dude, don't get attached. You know we can't keep it," Dean mentioned, somewhat regretfully, as he passed through on his way to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

“Shame,” Sam said sadly. “He’s a friendly little thing. And look at his eyes… they’re blue!”

Dean poked his head out the kitchen door. "Blue?"

“Yeah, bright blue. I’ve never seen them on a cat before.”

Water in hand, Dean stepped into the room, took a swig out of the bottle, and wandered closer. He was about ten feet away from Sam and the cat when he started sneezing, completely dislodging the tissues. "Man, I hope this stuff kicks in quick."

“Don’t worry, I’ll put him back outside soon. I just wanna give him some water first. Maybe some bacon.”

Dean moved close enough to pass Sam his water bottle. He had to wipe the tears from his eyes to do it, though. "I didn't think cats were supposed to eat bacon. I don't want you to make him sick." He paused, "Wait, how do you know the cat's male?"

Sam scrunched up his nose, and thought for a moment. “I… don’t know. I just got this feeling, you know? I could just tell.” He shrugged for emphasis.

"You could just tell," Dean repeated with a mocking quirk of his eyebrow. "Okay, Dr. Doolittle. Well, since you're so in tune, why don't you find out if the little guy has a home? I'm sure someone's missing him."

Sam rolled his eyes and shot Dean one of his best bitchfaces. “How the hell am I supposed to do that? I don’t have a microchip scanner, and I can’t exactly ask him… her.”

The cat hissed, and Dean said, "Uh, think maybe you had it right the first time, Sammy." Whereupon, the cat meowed then plopped his butt down on one of the books on the table. "Huh…"

“It’s about curses and how to remove them.” Sam peered closely at the book and some of his hair draped onto the cat. Dean could have sworn that the cat gave a look of distaste before it got up and moved away from the dangling locks.

"What if this is like The Colonel?" Dean asked. "I'm not drinking the fur, dude. It's your turn to take one for the team."

Sam didn’t look too pleased at that suggestion. “I don’t think anyone will have to drink any potions, Dean. This isn’t Hogwarts. But I do think it’s trying to communicate with us.”

Damn, Dean was kinda looking forward to seeing Sam chase bugs. "It'd be easier if you drank the potion, just sayin'."

“Not if I don’t have to,” Sam muttered, then spoke directly to the cat. “What are you trying to tell us, little buddy?”

"Yeah, little guy, did Timmy fall down the well?" He could swear he saw the cat roll its eyes.

“Very funny,” Sam said, and he definitely did roll his eyes. “Can we be serious now, and not piss him off?”

Dean looked away from the furball and over to his brother. "What? You're the one who refuses to drink the drink so I don't have to die." And he promptly started sneezing again.

Sam sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “You sure are set on me drinking that potion, aren’t ya? Let me just try something first, okay?”

"Fine, but if it doesn't work, you suck it up and chug, 'k?" He glanced over just in time to see the cat bat the bottle of water off the table.

“Sure,” Sam huffed. “Nothing I want more than to talk ‘cat’.”

"So, what's your idea?" Dean hollered, grabbing a dish towel from the kitchen to mop up the spilled water.

“Observe and report,” Sam replied. “Before one of us goes off half-cocked, let’s see if he can communicate in his own way.”

"I don't know about you, but I always go off fully-cocked. You know, they make pills for that now, Sam." Dean draped the towel over the back of a chair and turned to see the cat twirling around Sam's legs. "Sounds like the little guy likes your idea, though."

“Your jokes aren’t getting any funnier, Dean,” Sam said, reaching down and scooping up the cat. “What do you think, cat?”

The cat purred, then gave Dean a disapproving look - at least that’s what it looked like, anyway.

“Let’s give it twenty four hours, and if we can’t figure out what he’s trying to tell us, then I’ll drink the potion. Deal?” Sam added.

"Fine. Whatever," Dean muttered. He walked past them, but couldn't resist scratching the cat behind the ears as he passed. His eyes started watering as he left the room.

***

Later that night, Dean walked into the kitchen to find Sam there with the cat. He was sitting at the table, placing random types of food in front of the feline. Dean watched with fascination as the cat repeatedly turned his nose up at the different options.

With a sniffle, Dean turned to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients to make hamburgers. He washed his hands thoroughly before unwrapping the beef and adding some seasonings. He was shaping it into patties when he heard a plaintive yowl at his feet. Looking down, he saw a pair of electric blue eyes staring up at him.

"Hey, cat," Dean started, only to be interrupted by the animal leaping onto the counter next to him. "Hey! You can't be up here, fuzzball."

The cat did what cats do: ignored him. Instead, it stared intensely at Dean's hands and the raw meat he was working into a thick ball to be squished flat.

"Mrow," the cat trilled, head tilting to the side.

"Sorry, little guy. No hamburger for you."

The cat pawed at the package of sliced cheddar and looked back up at him with wide eyes.

"Not gonna work on me, fluffy. I've been on the receiving end of puppy eyes the likes of which you'll never know."

With a tail twitch of disgust, Dean watched as the cat hopped back off the counter and moved back to Sam. His brother scooped the cat up in his arms and sat him down in his lap.

Dean continued cooking his burgers, listening as Sam had a one-sided conversation with his new friend.

“It’s no use looking longingly at Dean’s burgers. I know they look delicious - and they are - but they’re not cat food. You’re supposed to eat fish, or chicken, or… what the hell do cats eat? Not gonna tell me, huh?”

Sam sighed, and shook his head. “You must be hungry by now. Just try some of this tuna? Mmmm… tasty,” He said, unconvincingly.

Dean put a burger on the table for Sam and said, "Dammit, Sam, don't feed him that. What if he's like one of those gremlin things from the movie and you're not supposed to feed him after midnight?"

“This is real life, not a movie.” Sam rolled his eyes (one of these days he was going to get stuck like that), as he picked up the burger and took a bite. He and the cat stared at each other for a moment, and Sam wagged his finger at the feline. “Sorry, dude, this is mine.”

The cat hissed and hopped off Sam's lap, trotting over to Dean.

"Don't look at me, Gizmo. I'm not the pushover in this household."

“Yeah, sure you’re not,” Sam laughed. “A pretty bartender just has to call you handsome, and you’re like putty in her hands.”

The cat appeared to be particularly pissed at Sam’s remark; he skulked over to the corner and sat, apparently ignoring them both.

"I had an idea. I mean, it seems like he understands us, so what if we try some kind of written communication?" Dean asked, shooting the cat a questioning look.

“A pencil and a piece of paper?” Sam asked with a grin. “Yeah, I can make dumb jokes too.”

The cat raised its head and looked over at them, but stayed where it was.

“Do you mean something like laying letters out and asking him to pick the right ones?” Sam asked.

"Sure, like Scrabble tiles, or a ouija board… hell, even just drawing letters on a sheet of paper for him to point at," he shrugged and looked over at the cat. "What do you think, Gizmo?"

“That’s actually a pretty good suggestion.” Sam looked impressed. “I don’t think drawing letters on the paper would work though, unless we cut them out. They need to be spaced out so that it’s clear which ones he picks.”

"I'm going to go see if I can find the Scrabble game, maybe the ouija board. I'm pretty sure they're in a closet in the hall."

“Okay, I’ll take him outside, in case he wants to do his business,” Sam said, picking Gizmo up and carrying him in the direction of the stairs. The cat struggled in his arms, and Dean was pretty sure Sam got a couple of scratches at least, with the way he cursed at the creature.

The first closet he tried was full of boxes of Sam's books. Nerd. Digging through the second closet, Dean found the stash of board games, revealing Scrabble and the ouija board. He grabbed them both, just in case, and returned to the war room.

Sam was descending the stairs, looking pretty pissed, as Gizmo ran in front of him. “I thought we were friends, but the little fucker sure has some vicious claws. I hope he doesn’t feel the same way about word games.”

Dean pulled the ouija board out of its box. "I thought we could try this first, since it has 'yes' and 'no' options. Figured maybe we could try asking some questions first." He looked down at the cat, "How's that sound, fuzzball?"

The cat didn’t look too interested either way; for some reason he seemed to be trying to stick his tongue in Dean’s coffee. That was just weird… cats didn’t drink coffee, did they?

“What are we gonna ask him?” Sam asked, picking up Dean’s cup and taking it to the sink. “Is there anything you like eating other than burgers?”

The cat jumped up on the table and put his paw down on 'yes'. "Huh," Dean pulled his henley up over his nose and called out to Sam, "Looks like it's working!"

“Huh,” Sam remarked. “Wish I could work out what it was. Got any other ideas for yes or no questions?”

"Uh, hmm…" Dean made some serious eye contact with the cat. Quirking a brow, he continued, "Okay, so is it safe to assume you're cursed?"

Without hesitation, the cat placed his paw on ‘yes’ again.

“Good one,” Sam said. “Er… I don’t suppose you know how we can break the curse?”

The cat insistently tapped the 'yes' and looked up at them.

"Well, okay, then," Dean replied with genuine curiosity. "How complex should these questions get, Sam?"

“Hmmm, good question. He seems to understand everything we say, so I think we can go with quite complex. What do you say we try with the Scrabble tiles now, so we don’t have to stick with yes or no?”

Dean opened the box and grabbed the purple Crown Royal bag they kept the tiles in. Emptying it onto the table, he started flipping all of them face up. "Let's give it a shot."

Sam and Dean spent the next couple of minutes spreading the tiles over the table’s surface, removing the blank ones, as they worked. Dean couldn’t help spelling out a couple of naughty words, but he quickly shuffled the tiles around again, hoping Sam hadn’t noticed.

“Okay, what are we going to ask first?” Sam asked, addressing Dean, before staring inquisitively at the cat.

"What's your name?" Dean had jokingly been calling the cat Gizmo, but if he had a real name...

The cat began walking amongst the tiles, obviously looking for a particular letter. He stopped when he found it, and tapped his paw on it as he’d done with the ouija board.

“C,” said Sam, excitedly.

They watched as the cat began searching again, then indicated another letter.

"A," Dean added, then looked over. "We know you're a cat, dude. How about we just stick with Gizmo for now." He glanced at Sam and wondered out loud, "I wonder how he got cursed?"

The cat pushed an 'I' to the center of the table, then found a 'D'...

"Dude, I think he's calling us idiots," Dean scoffed.

“No, I’m sure he isn’t doing that. Especially as we’re trying to help him.”

The cat carried on, finding an ‘I’, and a ‘T’.

“I think you might be right.” Sam frowned down at the cat and its growing collection of letters.

Dean sat in one of the chairs, sneezing into his sleeve. "Bobby? Is that you?"

The cat meowed and put his paw on his head in what looked like exasperation, then touched an 'M'.

“M,” Sam said, peering at it as if he was trying to calculate pi in his head. “Mom? No? Er… my name is…? Are you Crowley and you’re calling us morons?” He turned to Dean and sighed. “This isn’t working out so well, is it? So far we’ve got a C-A-D-I-T, and an M. What the hell is that supposed to spell?”

Dean sniffled and said, "Man, I wish Cas was here. He could just interrogate you to get the answers."

The cat yowled and walked over to him. "Dude, back off a bit. I'm allergic to you."

The cat didn't listen, though, and sat back on his haunches and reached up to tap Dean on the forehead.

“He might understand what we’re saying, but he’s kinda heedless when it comes to personal space, isn’t he?” Sam chuckled. “You’re gonna make Dean sick if you keep getting in his face, buddy.” He leaned over to move the cat away from Dean, and got a scratch on his arm for his troubles.

Dean reached out and grabbed the cat, picking him up so they were on eye level. "Hey, you. No hurting Sam. He's trying to help you, you know."

He started coughing and passed the cat off to his brother. "I've gotta get out of here. Sorry. Good luck with this."

Dean left the room, trudging to the bathroom to pop some more meds before going to his bedroom to grab a change of clothes. He needed a shower asap.

***

Sam rested his elbows on the table and huffed in frustration. He felt bad for Dean - his allergies were a real pain - but at the same time, he hadn’t exactly made the situation any better. Despite his protestations that he only went off fully-cocked, his attempt at working out the cat’s message seemed to annoy it more, and now he was left alone to try to decipher what he was trying to tell them.

“Hey, cat,” he said in what he hoped was a placating tone of voice. “What did you want to tell us? I promise I won’t interrupt you any further.”

The cat paced around amongst the tiles once more, this time finding an ‘S’. It pushed the tile towards the others, then sat itself on the table and looked up at Sam.

“C-A-D-I-T-M-S… Nope, that’s not a word. Is it an anagram?” Sam wondered out loud.

Sam didn’t think it was possible for the cat to roll its eyes, but somehow it did.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here. I’m not getting it.” Sam gave the cat his best puppy dog eyes, and hoped that would work on the feline.

The cat stood up again, and began pushing the tiles around. When it had finished, Sam looked at what it had given him, hoping it was a better clue.

“A-C-S. It still didn’t mean anything.

Wait !

“C-A-S… are you telling me you’re Cas?” Sam felt like a prize idiot… of course it was Cas. All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place, and he beamed at his friend before scratching behind his ear.

“Dude, I’m so sorry for not realising sooner. No wonder you didn’t want me to take you outside for your business… awkward. But what happened to you? How can we undo the curse?”

Sam stopped talking and slapped his own forehead. “I’m gonna go tell Dean right now. He needs to know.”

He took off towards the bedrooms, with Cas hot on his heels. However, bursting into Dean’s room with the news, Sam saw that his brother was fast asleep.

This could wait until morning, and in the meantime, he and Cas could work on the cure. Maybe he would even be back to himself by then.

Unfortunately, Cas’s skills at letting Sam know how to cure him using Scrabble tiles were severely limited. After about an hour of frustrating attempts at trying, Sam felt his energy sapping and he laid his head on the table for a couple of minutes. That was all he needed… just a few minutes...

***

Dean woke up from a Benedryl-induced sleep and glanced over at his clock. It read 4:01. There was a warm weight on his chest, and he looked down to see Gizmo curled up on top of him.

He carefully reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a couple tissues. Shoving them in his nose, he gave in to temptation and stroked down the cat's back. His fur was so soft, and Dean could feel the rumble of purring with each pass of his hand.

"You sure are a cute little guy. I hope Sam had some luck figuring out how to help you."

The cat woke up at his voice, and stretched full-body before standing up and leaning over to nuzzle Dean's cheek.

Dean gripped him tight as he suddenly sneezed. "Okay, bud, I think it's time for another dose of allergy meds for me. What do you say we go grab some food, too?"

The feline headbutted him and licked his cheek. Taking that as an affirmative, Dean got up and carried Gizmo with him into the bathroom. He snagged the meds and continued on toward the kitchen.

Due to the watery eyes, he could barely make out Sam passed out at the table, Scrabble pieces scattered around his head.

In the kitchen, he set the cat down on the counter and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. He washed his hands in the sink, then grabbed a loaf of bread and the peanut butter out of the pantry. It was some organic, hippie brand that Sam insisted on buying, and Dean would never admit it to him, but it tasted better than the Peter Pan that had been his preferred choice.

He looked in the fridge for the jelly, but looked like they were out. There wasn't any in the pantry either. Dean shrugged and spread peanut butter on both slices of bread.

He was going to just slap them together and take his pills, but Gizmo knocked over Cas's bottle of honey. "Guess that could work." After drizzling a little on the slices, he put them together and took a bite. "Mmm, that's pretty tasty," Dean said with a full mouth. "Thanks for the suggestion, buddy."

Setting the sandwich down on the counter, Dean uncapped his water and swallowed down two more pills. When he reached for the pb&h, Gizmo swatted at his hand and quickly took a bite.

Dean was about to object to the sneak attack on his sandwich, when there was a sudden flash of light which prevented him from seeing anything for a few seconds. When his vision was clear again he could no longer see the cat, but Cas was standing there instead.

Where did he come from ?

"Cas?" He looked around, searching for Gizmo. Maybe… "Did you see a black cat?"

“Dean, do the letters I-D-I-O-T mean anything to you?” Cas asked. He stared into Dean’s eyes, but didn’t say anything more.

"Yeeeaaaaah," Dean drawled, looking at his friend who seemed to be covered in black hairs.

“That’s a fancy looking gizmo you’ve got there,” Cas stated drily, pointing at the waffle iron. He really seemed to be speaking in riddles today.

Dean was starting to put some pieces together when Sam burst through the door. His hair was a mess, and there was a Scrabble tile stuck to the side of his face. “Cas!! You’re back… how? How did you…?” He pulled Cas into a bro-hug and slapped him on the back.

Dean poked Sam in his tile and said, "You knew?"

“I worked it out last night,” Sam said, letting go of Cas, and pulling the tile from his face.

Cas coughed and gave him a pointed look.

“Oh, er… Cas helped me to understand last night,” Sam corrected himself. “I was gonna tell you, but you were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

"Thanks, I guess," Dean responded, half bitchiness, half honesty. "I still don't understand what broke the curse, though."

“I had to eat something after midnight. I understand the irony, as you made me watch Gremlins, and I think the witch that cursed me did too.” Cas gave a little laugh.

Dean stared, mouth hanging open. "You mean, this whole time it was a bad movie reference?"

“It would seem that way, yes. Some people love movies as much as you do, apparently,” Cas replied.

Sam slapped his hand over his mouth and chuckled. “Dude, that’s a whole new level of nerd.”

"Shut up, Sam." Dean shot him his own bitch face, then turned to Cas and sneezed. "You're covered in fur. Unless you want me to look like a walking plague victim, you'll go take a shower."

“Yes, that is a disgusting image you’ve painted for me, Dean. I’ll take a shower now.” Cas started towards the door, when Dean suddenly put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"It's good to have you back, Gizmo," Dean snarked, then pulled Cas into a hug. Whispering in the angel's ear, he asked, "Mind if I join you? Somebody slept on top of me last night and got me dirty."

“If you’re really good, I’ll let you tickle my belly,” Cas growled back into Dean’s ear.

“I know what you’re doing, by the way,” Sam complained. “You guys are gross.”

Dean looked over at his brother and grinned. "Then this won't come as a shock."

He grabbed Cas's ass and stroked a hand up his back. Cas rubbed against his cheek, and Dean couldn't help but dive in for a kiss. It was kinda gross, given his current state of sniffles, but Cas responded with enthusiasm.

"C'mon, kitten, it's bath time."

“Rawr,” Cas purred.

The End

#Destiel Advent Calendar 2019 #fanfiction #destiel #christmas short fics

[fyeahbecachloe]

the one where beca doesn’t like dogs (4/4)

Beca/Chloe Rating: T Word Count: 2885 Summary:What looked like an emaciated wolf was currently lying on her floor glaring at her. Eyes wide, Beca stood there frozen afraid it would attack her.

OR

Beca doesn’t like dogs but she’s dating a veterinarian so she’s pretty much screwed.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Weekends used to be days to go out, hang with friends, go to the beach, or have date nights. Now weekends to Beca is lying on the couch doing close to nothing except watch TV and spend as much time with Chloe doing minimal activities. The exhaustion from their week only allowed them to do so much movement. The only strenuous activities they participated in was sex.

Beca was lounging on their couch, watching a Chopped marathon while Chloe cooked them lunch. She was helping earlier until Chloe kicked her out because apparently kitchen knives were not to be played with. MJ was watching her cook and hoping she’d drop a piece of food on the floor. Every once in a while Beca could hear Chloe talking to him.

“Such a good sous-chef!” Chloe praised and MJ barked. “So much better than Beca.”

Beca scoffed and lifted her head to yell at Chloe. “I heard that!” She returned back to watching but could already hear MJ running from the kitchen and into the family room where she was. He quickly jumped onto the couch and laid his entire body on top of Beca’s. His head was lying on her chest and he looked at her expectantly.

The first time he ever did that, Beca nearly pushed him off but now she’s so used to it. MJ has been in their house for about 6 weeks and he has been completely transformed. His fur has fully grown back and he was the appropriate weight. His one paw was no longer red and raw abut covered in his normal white fur. The fur on his damaged ear grew back as much as it could. He’ll always look a little funny with one pointed ear and one half an ear but Chloe said it made him that much more special. He still looked grumpy though but Beca kind of really liked that about him.

“What’s up, dude? You help Chloe cook my lunch? Am I going to be eating mouthfuls of fur?” Beca reached over and scratched behind his ear. MJ let out a little howl that sounded like he was almost talking. Another thing Beca found out while he’s been there. Huskies are talkative.

“Baby, food’s ready!” Chloe called from the kitchen.

MJ jumped off of Beca and quickly ran into the kitchen. Beca followed him, shaking her head, and sat down at the island and watched as Chloe set MJ’s food bowl down on the floor. “You do know I’m ‘baby’ right?” Beca said to MJ as he waited patiently for Chloe to give him his command.  “She was telling me food was ready, not you.” But MJ wasn’t paying attention to her because Chloe had given the command and was already wolfing down his food.

Chloe laughed and set hers and Beca’s plate of food on the island. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Beca muttered and twirled a large quantity of spaghetti on her fork and took a huge bite.

Chloe shook her head in the amusement and began eating her lunch. “So MJ is pretty much ready for adoption.”

Beca swallowed her food and took a sip of her Coke. “Oh yeah?” MJ had already finished his food and was doing his normal sitting/begging for scraps.

“Yup,” Chloe took a bite of her spaghetti before continuing. “We’re going to film one more update at the clinic, finishing the editing, and then post in on our youtube. Then MJ is going to do a little photo shoot for the adoption website. I’m sure he’ll be adopted super quickly.” Chloe grabbed her iPad that was next to her on the island and opened up the notepad that had a long paragraph written on it. “This is what’s going to accompany his adoption post.” She handed the iPad to Beca.

Hi! I’m MJ, a Siberian Husky. My rescuers estimate me to be about 2 years old. I’m 55 lbs of pure fluff. I know I look grumpy but I can assure you, I’m a big love and cuddle bug. I’m already house trained and know all my commands. I’m very good on a leash and love to stick close to my humans. And while I get along with other dogs, I prefer to be the only dog in a house. I’m also good with small humans too! I’m very active so I need daily exercise so a house with a yard would be a perfect furever home. I’m also a good listener even though I only have one ear! Please consider adopting me, I’ll love you furever!

Beca finished reading with a smile on her face. “Did you write this?”

Chloe grinned. “No, MJ did, duh.” The smiled fell from her face as if she was just realizing something. She looked down at MJ sadly. “You ready for your forever home, buddy? We’re going to have to say goodbye soon.” MJ walked over to her side and put his head on her lap and let out a dog sigh.

Even though Chloe was looking down at MJ, Beca could tell that she had tears in her eyes. She put her fork down and slid her plate to the side and turned in her chair so she was facing Chloe fully.

“What if this was his forever home?”

Chloe turned her head so fast she felt the wind from her hair. Sure enough, her eyes were filled with tears. “What?”

Beca smiled and took Chloe’s hand. “I’m saying, what if we adopt him and he becomes our dog?”

Tears were now falling down Chloe’s face. “Beca, are you serious? You want to keep MJ?” Beca nodded now only realizing the tears in her own eyes as Chloe pulled her into a kiss. She could see MJ’s tail wagging from the corner of her eye. Chloe pulled back only to stand up and pull Beca into a full body hug with her face in her neck. MJ jumped on them and started barking wanting to be a part of the hug.

“You hear that, buddy?” Chloe asked, pulling slightly back from Beca while still having one arm around her. “Mama wants to keep you forever!” MJ titled his at head both of them before jumping up to stand on hind legs while his front paws were on Chloe’s leg.

Beca watched the exchange with a tearful smile. She never told Chloe but whenever she heard her talking to MJ, Chloe always referred to Beca as “mama” and herself as “mommy.” At the time, Beca knew that Chloe was already dangerously attached but a part of her really didn’t mind having that title. MJ was practically the dog clone of her. Not that she’d ever admit that to Chloe.

“So what’s next, mommy?” Beca quipped. “When do we sign the adoption papers? Or like do a gender reveal or whatever it is that straight couples do?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’ll fill them out on Monday and I’ll change all the information on his chip. Still gotta film the last update and tell our audience that we decided to keep him.” She looked at Beca curiously. “What changed you mind?”

Beca took a deep breath and looked down at MJ who was still looking at them like something was about to happen. “Partially you, partially this stinky butt. When he’s not annoying the crap out of me, he’s so…” She stopped not really know how to describe a dog she never wanted made her feel. “Warm.” She looked back Chloe who was looking at her like she was the whole world. “Like you. You both feel like home.”

Chloe was crying again as she softly kissed Beca. “I have a confession to make.”

Beca grinned. “What? You knew I would want to keep him the entire time?”

“Actually no, after all these years, you still surprise me.” Beca smiled at that. “No, I wanted to say that I named him at the clinic when we first got him.”

Beca squinted at her not quite sure where she was going with this. “Okay?”

Chloe let out a laugh. “MJ stands for Mitchell Jr., I named him after you.”

If Chloe wasn’t already holding her, Beca would’ve pulled back from shock. Her mouth was open in offense. “You named a mangy dog after me? How very dare you!” MJ let out an annoyed grunt at Beca’s outburst (proving Chloe’s point more) before going back to his spot in the family room.

“Babe, please, you’re exactly the same. First, he looks grumpy as hell. He has blue eyes, (“You have blue eyes!”), he seemed to only like me and not anyone else, he doesn’t really like playing with other dogs, but once you get to know him, he’s the softest, sweetest dog in the world. Just like you.” She finished by tapping Beca on her nose.

Beca grumbled. “I’m not the dog.” Chloe laughed and pulled her back for another kiss.

“I love you, thanks for letting us keep MJ.”

“I love you too, please don’t tell anyone you named him after me.”

Chloe’s laughter filled the entire house. “I promise.”

--

Beca was working on a remix at the studio when she got a notification on her phone from youtube. Unlocking her phone, her lock screen was now a picture of Chloe with MJ, she smiled when she saw that Chloe had finally posted MJ’s rescue video. Pausing what she was doing on her mixing program, Beca went to her laptop and opened up a browser to youtube and clicked on her subscription notifications.

The thumbnail on the video was of MJ smiling and Beca couldn’t help her own as she clicked the play button. A black screen with the text WARNING: GRAPHIC WOUND PICURES CONTAINED IN VIDEO. PLEASE ADVISE appeared. Beca frowned because she knew that she’s probably going to be seeing MJ’s damaged ear.

“Hey guys, welcome back to Scrappy Little Pawbuddies, I’m Doctor Chloe.” The video started with Chloe walking outside while filming herself.  “I’m here with Xavier.” The camera moved behind Chloe where one of Chloe’s coworkers waved. “We just received a call about an injured husky that’s been frequenting an old shed. The local neighbors are not quite sure how long he’s been there but they have been leaving food for him. We’re here to see if we can get him back to the clinic.

The camera turned so Beca could see where they were walking to. The shed was located on an old lot and she could see MJ coming into view as Chloe and Xavier got closer. “There he is.” Chloe’s voice was a whisper and they stopped about 10 feet from where MJ was. He looked awful laying on the ground like that. He looked just liked when Beca first met him but a lot dirtier and his ear was bleeding. MJ definitely noticed them approaching because he quickly stood up with his tail between his legs. The camera was set on the ground but still had a good shot of the dog and she saw Xavier slowly approaching with a hamburger and a soft snare.

“Hey buddy, you hungry?” Xavier said as he stopped and knelt down a few feet away from MJ but he was already baring his teeth and was growling quietly. Xavier ripped a few pieces off the hamburger and threw it towards MJ. MJ sniffed at them but didn’t eat any pieces. Text appeared on the bottom of the screen. Xavier realized that the dog probably didn’t trust men so we waited a little while before Dr. Chloe tried.

There was an obvious time jump in the video as it cross faded so now Chloe was sitting in front of MJ and was trying to coax him out of the shed.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food? It’s really good.” She too threw some pieces of burger to MJ but this time he ate a few. He very slowly walked out of the shed and approached Chloe. Beca has watched enough of these videos but it still made her worry every single time Chloe would be this close to a stray especially if it was a bigger dog. Chloe had gotten her fair share of bites from scared dogs. But this time, Beca actually knew how this rescue was going to end.

“Good boy!” MJ was completely within in Chloe’s reach now and he licked her hand. She carefully and easily slipped a loose leash around his neck and gently petted him. The video continued showing Chloe and Xavier walking MJ back to the rescue van and he allowed Xavier to lift him into the crate in the back. The video faded again and now they were back in the clinic and Chloe was standing next MJ who was on an exam table. It looked like he was just freshly bathed and his ear was cleaned up. He was trying to lick Chloe as he she spoke to the camera

”Hey guys, we’re back in the clinic and we decided to name him MJ. We ran a few tests on him, gave him a bath, and cleaned out his ear which looks like was bitten by another dog. It had a little infection so he’s now on antibiotics. He was thankfully heartworm negative and surprisingly no fleas or ticks. Main concerns are his paw, ear, and it looked like he had some irritated skin at some point hence the patches of fur missing. It’s thankfully not mange so that hair will grow back soon. He was surprisingly microchipped but unfortunately the phone number was disconnected.”

Another text appeared on the screen explaining to the audience that the previous owner had died.

“We’re going to keep him here for a few days before he goes off to a foster. Well, actually I’m going to foster him until he’s ready for adoption.” Chloe smiled as she tried to keep MJ from trying to lick her during her entire explanation. “He’s actually already very trained so he seems like he’ll be a really good house guest. We’ll keep you updated on his progress.”

The video continued on as Chloe filmed his progress and it was really something to see MJ transform to a healthy dog. Of course Beca was there during the entire thing but to see it happen on a time lapsed video definitely showed the stark difference. Finally it got to the final update which Beca knew was filmed just a few days ago. MJ was wearing a Barden Bella scarf around his neck. Chloe’s idea obviously.

“Hey guys! Back with the final update with MJ and you’ll be happy to know he’s been adopted.” Chloe paused for dramatic effect. “By me! And my girlfriend. Yes, a complete foster fail, right buddy?” MJ licked her face. “We wanted to thank everyone again for watching and donating. If it weren’t for you, these rescues wouldn’t be possible. MJ is now a happy and healthy, very spoiled dog. Thanks for watching this video and we’ll see you again on the next rescue on Scrappy Little Pawbuddies! Say bye, MJ!” Beca let out a laugh when MJ raised his paw a few times and it looked like he was waving. The video faded to a screen with all the information on the rescue and how to adopt and ways to donate.

Beca scrolled through the comments and smiled at all the ones thanking Chloe and the rescue for all they do and the ones saying how cute MJ was. Of course she rolled her eyes on the ones asking about “Dr. Chloe’s girlfriend” and the rest of the comments telling the user that it was Beca. Sometimes she forgot she was actually a little famous.

Her facetime ringtone interrupted her perusing through the comments and her face broke into a smile when she answered Chloe’s call.

“Hey babe!” Chloe’s blurry face came into focus and Beca could see she was in her office. “Did you watch the video?”

“Of course I did, our little stinker is going to be famous.” Beca saw the phone’s camera flip and then she saw MJ’s grumpy face appear on her screen. “What’s up, dude? You’re about to go viral, please don’t let that inflate your ego.” Beca could tell he was a little confused as to where her voice was coming from so he just barked. Chloe turned the camera back to her.

“What time are you expecting to be home tonight? I’m cutting out early because it’s a slower day so I’ll probably be home around 5.”

Beca looked at the remix she was currently working on and saw she only had a few more things to tweak. “I probably could be out by 6 if I’m lucky. Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll get us take out.”

Chloe smiled. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to work so you can home early. MJ! Come say bye to mama.” She flipped the camera again and MJ did his little wave. Beca reflexively waved back. “Bye Beca, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Beca continued her work with a big smile on her face. The rest of the day flew by as Beca’s mind was filled with thoughts of coming home to her family.

#bechloe #beca x chloe #my fics

[kinksonyeondan]

Take It Off

Genre: Smut Pair: Namjoon X Reader Word Count: 1,670

It was 8:15 pm and you just got home from work. You were so exhausted from running around dealing with annoying customers and you felt like you haven't showered in forever. You kicked off your shoes and threw your jacket on the couch, not worrying about the mess until further notice.

You walked down the hall and into your bedroom, almost crying when you saw your dog, Rapmon, laying on the bed. "Ugh, your so lucky, you get to relax and sleep all day." You walked towards the snow colored furball and scratched his head, and stroked down the rest of his body.

His tail was wagging furiously, clearly a sign that he wanted to play. "Sorry baby, mommy needs to take a shower because I feel gross." You gave him a kiss on the head and waltzed into the bathroom.

You checked the time on your phone, trying to remember if Namjoon said he was going to be late or not. You guys met at a bookstore a year and a half ago, where you actually went to get a book for your friend, but you're glad you went, cause that's when you met him.

When he first brought you to his house, you immediately fell in love with Rapmon. He was just too adorable! You thought it was hilarious that Namjoon became jealous of Rapmon because you paid more attention to his dog instead of your own boyfriend.

You put on some music and hopped into the shower. It felt like an angel's tears soaking up your body because you never felt so relaxed in a shower before. Without realizing it, you have spent an entire hour in the shower. You actually finished fifteen minutes in, but you were too lazy to get out into the cold.

After a long time of procrastinating, you finally got out of the shower, but only to reveal a horrifying sight. There was only a towel. "Fuck, my robe is in the dryer!" You remembered that before you left home to work, you threw your robe in the dryer so it can be ready when you came back, but you forgot, and now you have to use the towel as a substitute.

You dried your hair a bit and you wrapped the towel over you, holding onto the corners so it won't fall off and expose you to the cold. You grabbed your phone and headed out the door.

"You scared the shit out of me!" You yelled, grabbing onto your beating chest.

Namjoon was sitting on the bed, petting Rapmon who was sitting on his lap. He smiled at you with his signature smile, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. You sighed, relieved that it wasn't some intruder, but just your boyfriend. He wore a white puma shirt with a black sweater and white pants. His hair was kind of messy, so you figured he had a long day.

You walked towards the drawer to take out some pajamas, while Namjoon took Rapmon outside of the room. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it. You looked to the side, seeing Namjoon staring at you. "Yes?" You asked him, chuckling to his weird behavior.

"I'm stressed out..." he sighed, rubbing his face. You pouted, "I'm sorry Joonie...but I'm sure things will get better," you reassured him, shooting him a closed lip smile. He crossed his arms, cocking his head to the side like a little boy. You turn towards him once again, his little smile catching your attention.

"What is it?" You laughed, sincerely confused with his sudden change of attitude. "You know what will make me feel better?" He teased, making you curious. "What?" You said, crossing your arms as well. "Taking off your towel."

"Haha, very funny Joonie." You said sarcastically, digging back in your drawer. He slowly crept behind you, getting close to your ear, "I mean it..." he whispered, turning you around abruptly, "Take it off."

You almost choked on nothing, his commanding tone turning you on for some reason. Yes, there were occasions when he was kind of rough, but something is different about him. Like if a strong sexual urge ignited a beast within him. You loosened your grip on your towel, the fabric dropping at your feet.

Goosebumps immediately formed all around your body, the chilly air hitting against your warm body. Namjoon instantly noticed, using both of his hands to rub your arms. "Don't worry, I'll warm you up real quick."

He took a step back, admiring your body. You still get kind of embarrassed when he looks at you naked, so you crossed your arms to cover your chest. He shook his head, amused at your shyness. He marched towards you, attacking your lips. You shrieked, his quick actions catching you off guard. His hand was holding the back of your neck, guiding your mouth with his, while he held your waist with the other. Since he was taller, your head had to be tilted upwards, tiptoeing with your feet to reach him.

He twirled around, guiding you towards the bed. You scooched further into the mattress, his body hovering yours the whole time, not letting go of the hungry kiss. Your fingers dug into his scalp, gently tugging on his purple locks. He leisurely traced his full lips down your jawline to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys towards your chest.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, savoring the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. He traced his fingertips down your body to your thigh, hooking his hand under your knee and bringing it up to the side of his waist.

After a few minutes of teasing, you decided to bring matters to your own hands. You nudged him off of you and pushed him down into the cushions, hovering over him this time. You attacked his neck, biting into the soft tissue. He gave out a soft grunt, making you smile into the nape of his neck. "Sit up." You ordered, biting your lip.

Without noticing, you automatically became the dominant one and made Namjoon the submissive. "Take off your sweater." He swiftly took off his black sweater, throwing it on the floor. You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off of his head, throwing it behind you.

"I thought I was the one making you 'take it off' not the other way around," he teased. "Well, you said I was the only one who was going to make you feel better," you explained, lowering down to his legs. "So I'm going to make you feel better," you cooed, unbuckling his pants.

He hoisted himself up with his arms, watching your every move. You yanked his pants and briefs down, revealing his sprung up member. You firmly grip his shaft, pumping slowly. He hissed at the feeling, throwing his head back. You circled your thumb around his slit, teasing him as he did to you. "Stop teasing," he breathed out, making you smirk. You traced the tip of your tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the red tip, finally taking him whole.

"Fuck..." he panted, his chest heaving up and down at the pleasure. You watched his body squirm at the feeling that your mouth was doing to him, making you feel content. But enough was enough and you wanted in on the action.

You let go of him, making him groan in annoyance. "Sorry, Joonie, but I need my pleasure too." You hovered above his crotch, aligning his member to your entrance. "Wait!" He shouted. "What?!" You yelled back, tired of the inconvenience. "We need a condom," he said urgently. You grunted in annoyance, "I'm on the pill. So shut up and let me ride you."

You slowly sank down his dick, moaning at the sensation of him stretching you out. He also felt the ecstasy of being inside of you, his hands gripping both sides of your hips. You had your hands on his stomach to keep you stable, finally moving at a stable pace.

Your eyes were closed shut, trying to feel him as much as possible. When he got impatient, he started slamming you down into his pelvis, making you yelp. "Ahhh-mmph," you cried, using one of your hands to grope your breast. He loved the sight of his dick disappearing inside of you, but he especially loved seeing you squirm on top of him.

The overwhelming feeling of bliss and the incredible sight of you melting into him was enough to send him to the edge. "I'm cumming..." he said, almost about to give in. You leaned forward, looking fiercely into his eyes, "Cum inside me Joonie."

With your last words, he gave in and exploded inside of you. A few seconds later, you came, giving out one loud groan. You slowly rode out your orgasm, coming down from your high. You collapsed next to Namjoon, moving the hairs stuck to your forehead out of the way. "Fuck baby didn't see that coming.." he laughed, giving you a peck on the forehead.

"Damn it Namjoon," you said, laughing in pity, "Now I have to take another shower." He gave out a cute chuckle, bringing you in for a hug. He rubbed his forehead against yours, "Nah, let's be filthy together." "Ew! Joonie!" You snorted.

You soon heard scratches on the door, "Fuck it's already 10:00 pm" he said, when he checked the time, "It's Rapmon's bedtime." He ran to the drawers and quickly put on some shorts, throwing you one of his oversized shirts.

Namjoon opened the door, Rapmon quickly running inside and jumping on the bed. "Hey, baby, ready to sleep with mommy?" He barked excitedly, spinning around in circles. Namjoon hopped into the bed, giving both you and Rapmon a kiss on the head.

"Good night babe."

"Good night Joonie."

"Good night Rapmon." We said in unison, the adorable furball barking back in response.

#bts #bts rm #kim namjoon #fanfiction #kinksonyeondan

[warcraftingfox-archived-blog]

An Exile’s Home part 1

@felsight for heavy mentions of his ocs. Part two.

It’s on Ao3 too! Warnings: Angst. Just... angst. All of it. Nothing is good and no one is happy. And also BfA spoilers. Edit: deleted the ending.

-

A gunshot rams into the tree to the left of Jasculs, only about an inch or two from his head. The hit part of the trunk splinters, making needle-sized pieces of bark rain over Jasculs and Sæunn. Some dig into his skin, though he is too busy steering himself and his gryphon out of shield, hammer, bullet, and knife range.

The distance between each tree in the woods widens, and, finally, it’s safe for Sæunn to take off. Jasculs tabs her flank with his foot, and she spreads her wings and jumps up.

A striped, blue saber with a red mane jumps out from between the darkness of the trees, front paws stretched out. Its claws dig into Sæunn’s right side and Sæunn screams. She flaps and twirls and kicks to get the assaulter off, but to no avail.

Jasculs turns around on Sæunn’s back and, as he kicks and wields his glaives, he holds on and keeps his balance with his tail. His heart is racing and his face is reddening as they ascend, Sæunn’s screams in his ears and the saber refusing to let go. They’re several tenths of feet up, and the fall will surely kill the saber if it would just let go-

The saber bares its teeth and Jasculs successfully kick it in the mouth. It lets out a screech-like scream, its grip loosening. Jasculs kicks it again, and it falls.

Taking no moment to watch the saber, Jasculs inspects Sæunn’s wounds. Blood gushes out from eight deep and long claw marks, down Sæunn’s flank and thigh. He runs a gentle finger across one of the wounds and, behind him, Sæunn whines in pain.

She’ll never run again, he thinks.

Turning around, Jasculs scratches Sæunn’s head. Then, he takes a moment to look around at their surroundings. The woods are way behind them, still moving away, below is nothing but a grey, green, and blue, and in front is miles and miles of broken stone ground, river running in the cleaves, with mountains to the right and the coast and Teldrassil in front. They have nowhere to go in front, so they will have to get to Sol and Kina at camp. But that way are the assaulters, and they will just injure Sæunn more-

Sæunn whines, pulling Jasculs out of his thoughts. Her blue feathers are bathing in a yellow-golden glow.

Jasculs looks back just in time to see the wrath bolt slam into Sæunn’s wing. Then, he feels a blow to his right, the wind changing direction, and such an incredible headache all sense is eliminated from his body for a few seconds.

A few seconds too much, as the next thing he feels is a giant bat taking his arms into its claws. He writhes and kicks weakly, his vision and hearing still recovering.

First, his hearing sets in. Somewhere close yet also far away a gryphon is screaming, and it takes his brain a moment to recognize it as Sæunn. Jasculs writhes again, stronger this time, a whine and what would have been a plea had he been able to speak escaping his lips. The harsh winds take away all sound he makes, however.

Second, his vision. They’re diving towards the ground and a frantic ball of blue feathers and rust-brown fur.

One last time, Jasculs writhes and begins to swing. The bat’s flying staggers and something much alike words come from it, although Jasculs pays it no mind. He keeps swinging until his arms twist around in the bat’s grip. Suddenly, he’s upside down, booted feet against the bat’s chest. The bat screeches in surprise and attempts to tighten its grip, but too late- Jasculs is too determined and too well-positioned to be stopped.

Using his legs to take off, away from the bat and down towards Sæunn, Jasculs feels the grip on his arms disappear. Spreading his wings, he flaps as hard and fast as he can.

Behind him, Jasculs hears distressed screeching - or is it cursing? - from the bat, though it’s as if he hears it through water. All his focus is on Sæunn and the distance between them; it’s lessening, but enough? Will he actually reach her in time? No, he will, he will, he won’t let Sæunn hit the ground and die, won’t let her body grumble and explode under the pressure of the crash, won’t let her innards be exposed for vultures to-

Grunting harshly so a small spurt of hot green - Jasculs would tell you it’s fel - is spat out of his nose. He can’t let his mind run off now. Not when Sæunn is so close he can almost touch her.

With two last beats of his wings, Jasculs is able to get his arms beneath Sæunn’s body. She stills at his touch, although still whining loudly.

Jasculs knows she’s heavy, but he also knows he can somewhat carry her. Yes, he rides her but they play-fight like equals, and he’s picked her up a couple of times. Never been able to carry her for much longer than a few minutes, but he doesn’t have minutes now. He has seconds and he needs to slow the fall enough to make it survivable. He can do that. At least, that’s what Jasculs tells himself.

He’s absolutely right. Their landing is almost soft.

With utmost care, Jasculs sets Sæunn down to inspect her wing. It’s burned, several feathers gone. But that looks to be all the visible injury there is.

A gentle touch of the wing makes Sæunn whine. She hides her face in Jasculs’ chest and squaks unhappily, and, instinctively, he holds her head close. But that’s all the movement he can muster; even his heart seems to stop for a moment.

He touched the wing where the wing-bone is.

Closing his eyes, Jasculs takes a deep breath in an attempt to steady his breathing and heartbeat. It doesn’t work and only succeeds in making him cry. It’s a soft cry, and a choked one; one he attempts to cover with his hand and swallow back down as tears swell his eyes and wet his blindfold.

Suddenly, Jasculs can hear the sound of flapping wings again. He’s immediately on his feet, glaives- glaives gone, he must have dropped them when he was flung off of Sæunn’s back. As he raises his fists, ready to defend and throw a punch, his mind is screaming.

The bat lands on the ground and changes form. In its place stands a purple Troll at about his own height, bright orange hair in a mohawk on their head. They’re clad in greens and blues and browns, pauldrons bearing the symbol the druid. Tufts of fur and feathers are bound to their staff, which, without taking their eyes off of Jasculs, they throw away. It’s not an aimed throw, but rather an “I don’t want to hurt you and am laying down my weapon to prove it”-throw.

Jasculs eyes the staff, then the Troll. Their expression remains unreadable.

He doesn’t let down his guard.

The Troll sighs before they speak with a heavy accent and an up-giving tone. “Ah kno’ Ah hurt ya and ye gryphon- in truth, Ah was only amin’ fe ya, but ye gryphon is faster dan Ah thought it-”

“She,” Jasculs interrupts.

“Wat?”

“She,” he repeats, “she’s a she and her name is Sæunn. Fucking respect that when you almost got her killed.”

For a moment, the Troll doesn’t answer. They simply watch Jasculs, eyes constantly moving. Then, they sigh before nodding.

“Of course,” they simply say at first. “She be a very skilled flyer. No wonder ya have escaped so many bounty hunters.”

“If you want my head, piss off. I’m not giving it up for a price,” he retorts, muscles tensing.

“Ah do not want ye head. Well, not anymore. T’was why we initially attacked ya, but…” The Troll shakes their head and, for the first time since they landed, looks away from Jasculs. “Ah don’t have de heart fe it anymore. Ya don’t deserve t’ be killed, or even t’ have a bounty on ye head,” they explain. Their voice wavers, but only with emotion, not with hesitation or an improvised lie. What emotion, however, Jasculs cannot tell.

Finally, Jasculs relaxes. He drops heavily to the ground next to Sæunn, his hand once again finding way to the top of her head. His own head is supported by his other hand, placed on his cheek, while his tail flops and wags around in distress.

“May Ah take a look at Se- Sæunn?” asks the Troll.

Jasculs doesn’t lift his head as he mumbles his reply, “Only if I get your name.”

“Mo’hir,” replies the Troll without hesitation.

Jasculs furrows his brows. During his travels he’s learned some about Trolls, but not nearly enough to take a guess at what gender that name is usually assigned to. For all he knows, this Troll could be the only one with that name.

“And your pronouns are…?”

At first, Mo’hir laughs. Jasculs moves his head to properly have them in his vision as they move closer. Sæunn hisses, and Jasculs gives a little more energy to scratching her head.

Mo’hir lets Sæunn smell them, then makes a plant grow out of the earth. Within minutes it blossoms, and neither Jasculs or Sæunn can help to stare. A small smile adorns Jasculs’ lips; the kind that can only be described as nostalgic. As the flowers fall off the plant and are replaced by berries, the smile only grows. Sæunn immediately starts plucking off the berries and eating them.

“I’m a woman, mon,” says Mo’hir finally, and Jasculs nods.

A distant beat reaches Jasculs’ ears, which twitch. Mo’hir obviously hears it, too, as she backtracks her crouch to look in the direction of the woods. Jasculs directs his gaze that way as well, where he spots a horse with person he considers small on top. The two sets of pointy ears - one pair where they normally are on the head, and another pair barely sticking above their shoulders - is a dead give-away to Jasculs. He sighs in relief and, despite the situation, laughs.

“Ye know ‘em?”

“Yeah. That’s my boyfriend and pum- daughter. Though she’s not technically my daughter, I just sort of act as her self-proclaimed guardian and body-guard and dad, y’know?” Jasculs replies, voice light and words rushing out of his mouth like a happy little river.

Mo’hir is silent for a while. When she speaks, her voice is croaked - “Right.” - though Jasculs doesn’t hear it. A thought has hit him, and it’s making him wonder in the way that makes his brows knit together.

“Where’s the rest of your group? You were more than just you, right?”

Mo’hir hums a yes-sound. “They be waitin’ about ten feet away from ‘ere in de direction we came from. Ye have jus’ been too busy starin’ at de ground t’ notice ‘em,” snickers Mo’hir, though, as she speaks, she makes less and less effort to hide her laugh. Jasculs simply face-palms his forehead, which only makes Mo’hir laugh even harder.

At first, Jasculs simply grumbles before wincing at the stinging he just caused his forehead and palm. Then, he groans and has to close his eyes as his vision gets blurry and head throbs, and as every single one of his muscle tenses up, he feels dizzy and sick. He sways and feels something poking his side and then something else gripping onto his shoulder. There is noise, too, something that might have been a voice, but yet again it’s as if he’s hearing everything through water.

The only way he can describe the pain that follows is being in an explosion while at the same time being an explosion. Every part of him screams as it burns and feels like is torn apart, and Jasculs knows he’s screaming, he knows he is, but he can’t hear it. He can’t see either or feel or smell - the only thing his nerves are absorbing is the pain.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on for - any sense of knowing that isn’t pain has left his mind. But it doesn’t disappear until something sings its song to him.

His vision comes back, and so does the feeling in his body and his hearing. Five people are bent over him, most shocked, one angry, two crying - and he’s on the ground, still next to Sæunn, who is whining and screaming just as much as Kina is crying and Sol’alore is desperately yelling Jasculs’ name and asking what’s going on.

The three other people don’t say anything - a vastly familiar Sin’dorei and a Mulgore Tauren, along with Mo’hir. Not until Mo’hir speaks, though it sounds distant, she’s not moving her mouth or even her body - which is placed in a meditating position, Jasculs suddenly notices - and he is obviously the only one who can hear her. Her voice is carried by the singing, yet she is not the one singing.

“Get a move on, mon. Da tree needs ya,” she urges, and Jasculs immediately knows what she means.

Somehow, in his state, he gets up- and before he knows it, Jasculs is in the air, wings beating strongly and giving off a green tint. They carry him a long way with each beat, and he doesn’t tire at all, despite the old injury at the base of his left wing. His heart clenching at the sight of smoke flowing out of the world tree like heavy, dirty rivers that go up into the sky is more than enough motivation.

Jasculs doesn’t stop before he has flown through the pink portal -  which is more red than pink and purple as it usually is - outside of Teldrassil and into Darnassus.

A branch falls into the lake and sends a wave of burning hot water over Jasculs. He makes a run for the bridge, and he almost makes it. His tail and heel get burned, but nothing else, and it’s better than anything he had imagined. Rushing into a gigantic, burning tree just to be flooded and killed by scalding water… wouldn’t that have been ironic?

Jasculs takes a look around. Everything is on fire; houses, plants, people, animals, clothes, all of it. There’s a desperate, frantic, angry, horrified, and so many other kinds of screaming Jasculs cannot name. His whole body shakes at the sight, thoughts of anxiety, of destruction and death and people he knows fill his mind, and his imagination kicks in. Nythlora’s dead body, burned beyond recognition, Nali’s shop crushed and her in it, J’aaris pierced by a fallen branch, and oh Light Malassarian-

Lunging himself forward and into the air to stop his mind before it gets way too far, Jasculs heads towards Malassarian and J’aaris’ home. On the way, he leads a group of stranded Kaldorei to safety, lifts a fallen tree so a family of Draenei can get out and away, and cools several people down with beats of his wings.

When Jasculs gets the, his heart is in his throat, and the sight of the house’s state does not help. It has been crushed by a gigantic branch, and the image of J’aaris speared once again crosses his mind.

With shaking arms and legs, Jasculs pushes down doors and walls to look through every room. There’s nobody or their remains there, and Jasculs lets himself breathe a sigh of relief.

This time, when he spreads his wings, he gets lightheaded. His heartbeat is racing and so is his pulse, too fast to properly let his body consume the oxygen in his blood. Even then, with the amount of smoke in the air and how quickly he is breathing, it may as well be for the best.

Jasculs ventures deeper into Teldrassil, to the edge of Darnassus, where he knows Nali’s blacksmith is. His vision is distorted and everything looks oddly small, but he manages, despite the loss of orientation and sense of direction. It is not helped by the fact he cannot see anything; Jasculs has had to land from overly shaky and uncontrollable wings and is now running down the streets. The smoke is thinner down here, but seeing things from above gave him a nice sense of control, a feeling he has now completely lost. He’s running around, completely having forgotten which way is what, and at one point he runs around in circles. Something in the back of his mind thanks Elune no living soul is here to see him like this.

Running down a street littered with fallen, burning branches, every house on each side in an inferno, Jasculs hears a voice yell in anger. The voice curses and spits and growls, and it feels familiar from a distant time and place.

Following the voice leads him to the remains of a house. It’s one of the more whole houses, he has to admit; the far wall is still intact, and so is most of the staircase and floor. The roof and closest wall to him, however, have fallen, and beneath the ruins lie a Draenei with the wildest curly hair able to still look soft.

Jasculs recognizes her immediately and doesn’t say anything before walking over and lifting up the remains of what he thinks what was once her roof. She glances up at him momentarily before crawling out, although rather slowly. He doesn’t blame her though; it must really be difficult crawling when you are missing most of your left leg. Mindlessly, he scratches his left leg, as if to make sure it’s still there. Then, he helps the Draenei up.

“How many times are you gonna save my ass, Mateth?” she comments unhappily, something almost like a pout on her face. A small smile is brought to his lips and eyes at that, and, for the first time since he entered Darnassus, his ears twitch in that weirdly happy-proud way they tend to do.

“As many times as you and the world will let me, Nali. I don’t mind securing your safety… that was an awkward sentence,” he replies.

“You’re awkward.”

Jasculs can only snort before he crouches down to let Nali know he will be picking her up. Grumbling and sighing overdramatically, she lets him. She immediately lets out several harsh coughs when he stands back up, and Jasculs, too, lets out a cough of his own. They have to hurry.

Starting back towards the portal on foot, Nali’s arm locked around his neck, Jasculs’ mind starts racing again. Branches are falling quicker and the fire is even more intense than before. Just within the first street, he has to dodge four branches.

“Hold tight,” he warns Nali before taking off into the smoking air above the buildings.

Within seconds, Jasculs can see the portal. He informs Nali of this, though she only gives a grunt in return. He attempts to swallow a lump at that but continues to fly.

A shadow suddenly darkens the ground beneath and around them, and Jasculs knows a big- a very, very big branch is above them. He darts to the side, and the branch brushes past them, and Jasculs feels relief soothing his muscles. Then, a crushing sound of a bridge giving way and the boom! of a spell being disrupted by unnatural causes.

Jasculs feels like the bridge. Crushed and without hope. The branch lay there, pieces of the structure that used to hold up the portal beneath it, and his breath hitches and he coughs and he’s shaking and oh Elune what should he do, what can he do, someone help him-

Nali groans in question, mumbling something about Jasculs’ heart. For a moment, Jasculs freezes, and they hover to the ground.

His heart is racing, adrenaline pumping, and Nali feels like nothing at all in his arms. She even looks smaller. Even smaller than his full metamorphosis usually makes her, which still is more than enough to make her grumpy. Not that she already isn’t grumpy all the time, but grumpy at him.

Distant voices come to Jasculs’ attention, and he perks his head up from looking at Nali. There, in front of the end of the fallen branch, stands J’aaris with Malassian hunched over his shoulder. Again, Jasculs’ breathing hitches and heart picks up the pace.

“J’a… J’aaris!” Jasculs yells, voice hoarse and desperate. The terror and anxiety in his voice make even the inferno itself pale in strength.

As Jasculs runs towards them, Nali perked up on one arm, J’aaris turns around. The Lightforged Draenei’s eyes widen in shock, then wonder, then relief, then horror. Then, something akin to accept crosses his face.

“No, we’re not dying in here. If anyone’s dying, it’s gonna be outside, with our families, so they can say their fucking goodbyes,” Jasculs hisses without a second thought.

“But how?” questions J’aaris.

Jasculs eyes the remains of the portal.

“The hippogryphs flew out of Teldrassil somehow, and it was not through the portal,” he informs, voice wavering but sure. Not confident, but sure that there is another way, that they will find it, and that he will get them out.

However, J’aaris shakes his head. “Mal can’t walk, and neither can she. You may be big and strong, but… I just- what are you doing?”

Jasculs is moving to put Nali down. Blowing her in the face, she instantly opens her eyes, and he sets her on the ground. She looks confusedly at Jasculs, then as J’aaris, then Malassarian , and then back to Jasculs.

“J’aaris, get onto my back. You can sit between the spikes and use them to hold on. When you’re up, help Nali get up there, too. She’s tried it before and I’m positive she can hold on. I’ll carry Mal- and, yes, I will carry him with utmost carefulness. I promise,” Jasculs explains quickly with coughs between a couple of words.

J’aaris nods and does as instructed, while Jasculs lays Malassarian in his arms. Severely broken leg, slow heart, and pulse, smoke intoxication-

Jasculs clenches his eyes shut.

Shut up. No time for death imaginations now.

Once J’aaris and Nali confirm they are ready, Jasculs immediately takes off. He flies across the branch, heading for the direction he knows the hippogryph route is and-

There’s a squak, and Jasculs looks down. There, by the edge of the portal island, a hippogryph is trotting around, making whatever noises it can muster. It’s wearing sentinel armor, and Jasculs figures its rider must have died and it had no idea what to do or where to go, and now everything is chaos so it’s panicking.

Jasculs flies over to it, shifting Malassarian, who grunts, carefully as he does so, and lays a hand on the hippogryph. It immediately looks up and into where Jasculs’ eyes are beneath the ashen blindfold with wild eyes. As it looks, it seems to calm down, though.

“Can you show us the way out?” asks Jasculs, as if he is talking to another Kaldorei.

The hippogryph takes off and flies across the boiling lake, across buildings and branches and scorching fire, and Jasculs follow. Until they reach a part of the inner bark, and the animal squaks unhappily.

“Here?”

The hippogryph squaks again, as if it’s answering. Jasculs takes it as a yes and spits at the trunk, which immediately begins to seeth beneath his spit. Then, huge fel flames are fired from his eyes, burning through the trunk before causing an explosion. Jasculs blows away the smoke, revealing a clear pathway, big enough to fit them. As they fly through, Jasculs momentarily think how odd it is he felt like he was filling out the entire pathway, yet the hippogryph barely filled any space at all, but he pays no attention to it. He can’t, not as fresh air rushes across his face and he has to breathe it in, and he does, and it feels amazing, and he hears both Draenei on his back do the same. Even Malassarian , who is still very much passed out, seems to relax.

Not realizing he had closed his eyes while inhaling, Jasculs opens them and looks across the sea. The shore, what used to be Lor’danel, is gone. Burned to nothing but ashes. Jasculs isn’t really surprised, he did see some of it when he came to the tree, after all, but it still hurts. It still makes him huff in anger and his heart speed up.

The hippogryph squaks questioning.

“I don’t know,” Jasculs immediately replies, as if he understood what the animal said, “But I think the safest bet would be heading for a neutral city. What’s it called, Gadgetzhan? No, no, that’s in Tanaris… Ratchet!”

The hippogryph seems to recognize the name and begins flying in on direction, then another. It can’t fly its usual route, with Darkshore taken over like this, so, instead, it sticks to the ocean.

Only a minute or two of silence pass by before Nali yells in warning and tucks on Jasculs’ right horn, a sign that “means look to the right!”. He does so and immediately panics.

Jasculs rolls over, throwing both J’aaris and Nali off of him, dropping them into the ocean. He yells something even he himself doesn’t understand at the hippogryph before throwing Malassarian to it. It catches him, squaks in concern and something that, to Jasculs, feels like promise, and flies away.

That’s all he sees before the flaming catapult boulder smashes into him and everything instantly goes black.

#Carebear #Mohawk On Fire #Hyper Helping Hand #Angersmith #Character (Werythra) #Character (Knoton) #A Character Is Present #absolute u n i t (fave things)