#Polar snoozin

[bearotonin-international]

I’m having a lot of nightmares. Can you please send some sleepy bears to help protect me in my dreams?

we’re sorry to hear that friend. We hope these sleepy guys send you safe dreams tonight 💙

[strikersexhaver]

Feathers. 🔪🕊️

——

Striker ends up in a similar position as someone he despises.

(A/N) this is also based on a OC/Striker fanfic I wish to make eventually i also haven’t seen anyone do this?

SPOILERS FOR OOPS (S2 E6) WATCH THAT BEFORE READING!!

...

Pairing: Striker x Half Goetia! Half Imp! Reader

Genre: Angst

Content Warning?: Argument, Striker’s an ass this time,

After a long, shit, god-awful day, the only thing the serpentine imp hybrid man wanted was to watch his movies and snooze up to a lover’s embrace.

However, he got the polar opposite.

It’s almost comedic (or maybe even karma) for how badly it went.

To deal with people who sucked up to blue-bloods was a pain and to lose to them? Even more so, he also had received burns from a explosion’s fire, it may turn into scars- but he had to think about the present issue of the burns now.

You took care of him when he got home as well, you wrapped up his wounds, burns or not. He needed to rest… So now he was resting against your thigh, his shoulders relaxed and body stopped tensing up as soon as he was able to bask in the homey-comfort feeling. A feeling anyone could happily indulge in at times…

Striker watched as your tail move back and fourth like a dog’s tail in glee. It was adorable he thought, passing it off until it brewed. He then realized why was your tail so- feathery?

It never was like that before he recalled.

He grabbed a hold of it gently, you chuckled at the odd sensation not seeing his expression and assuming he was playing around.

“…What is it hun?” You asked, your voice tensing as he stared in silence.

He held your tail right by the tip of it, then showed it back to you. The feathers on your tail being the crime in his eyes.

“The fuck is this?” He angrily scowled, his eyebrows furrowed and his tail rattling like a snakes.

“I-… I can explain-“ you began, “i-it was for a costume.” You tried to lie, which did not go over too well with him. The nerves in your voice and the pounding of your heart intensified as you even continued.

It made Striker’s blood boil, he could see right through your lie clear as day. As an assassin he has had to charm his way through many, and see through falsehoods many times.

As for you, you were one of the people he thought he never had to.

“Quit lyin’- what are you? What the fuck is this!” He snarled, teeth barred.

You looked for words to say as you pulled your tail from his grasp. He winced as he got up, panting as his body was spent from fighting and now healing. You tried reaching out for him to help him out but all he did was back away from the touch, a feeling of betrayal and being lied to clouded his vision.

A stinging sensation was felt in your heart as he refused your touch, it took so long for him to even let you, even more so to lean into it.

But it seems it’s impossible to imagine it happening again.

You only never told anyone the Goetia side of you because you could never fit in with either crowd with both of you, only half of you.

The lower-class entirely, mostly imps, or hellhounds would dislike you for being Goetia. Then Goetia would never even dare to look at you because of your ‘lesser blood’ they called it. You never had a place, and so… You kept it to yourself.

“I- I wanted to tell you- for so long but-“ you started but he cut you off, “but what?” He hissed.

“You never told me! That I’ve been snoozin’ with a damn half-blueblood this entire damn fuckin’ time!”

“It’s not like that, I don’t even have contacts with my parents! You know this!” You exclaimed trying to have him hear you. You heard him, clearly, the strain and dryness of his voice was present.

“Nah- you didn’t even fuckin’ tell me either?! Ya’ kno’ the shit I’ve done for ya? The bleedin’ the killin’? Nun’ of it?” His tail accidentally knocked down a framed photo of the two of you making a loud clunking noise.

The two of you paused as you looked at what he knocked down, mutually both of you felt sadness but with different feelings.

You felt anxiety creaking up your spine, and he felt anger, betrayal, all over his blackened soul.

“Striker, please-“ he looked up at you as you spoke, “I don’t- I don’t belong anywhere because of this- it’s not that, I don’t trust you- I’m scared you’ll go.”

Striker’s breath hitched, his heartbeat slowing… You could see he was starting to think but he avoided eye contact with you.

“Please- let’s, let’s talk about this-“ you tried reaching out for him, again, hoping for a different result only for him to do the same once again.

He backed away, shaking his head as he winced, starting to painfully walk away.

“…Is that it? Are you really going to fucking leave!? Just like that?! Just because of what I am?” You sniffled, tears began to swell. Sadness and fury poured into those tears.

He paused, he perked up as he listened to your words.

“After everything we’ve been through together? I thought I was your ride or die! The one person I could go to about- fucking anything, we’ve killed together, I’ve killed for you and you for me! And this is what you want to leave me over?!”

He blinked. “… Ride or die’s ain’t supposed to hide shit from each other-“

“You fucking hide from me, constantly, where the fuck where you today? Huh? Messing with royals who might come after you!”

He huffed, his pride refused to admit his wrongdoing, but his body language spoke it. His tail hanged low as well as his neck and shoulders.

“I know what I’m doin’, I’ve been doin’ this shit long before I had ya’!” He turned back to you.

“But now you do, you wanna risk it all? All of it?” You gritted your teeth, your body tensing up with your fists clenching.

“Risk your life for pride? And now- us? Because of something you should understand I cannot control.. You’re a hybrid just like me, you should understand!”

“I don’t need to understand shit, because I’m above all this- I’m above-“

“Us? You’re above us? That’s what you’re trying to say?” You put hands upon your hips, your eyebrows furrowed and tears began to fall, down your face, and even dripping onto your shirt.

He scowled. “Ya’- I fuckin’ am! Because I ain’t gonna be coddled by a half-ling blue blood-!” He perked up angrily once more, “talking to me as if you’re my fuckin’ ma? Hah! Fuck no! I ain’t!”

Striker stormed out leaving you stunned.

The words he spoke stabbed your heart like a thousand daggers in the back.

It broke you down, brought you on your knees to only cry. You turned to the photo that was knocked down, and sobbed relentlessly.

All over a damn feather.

—-

Striker on the other hand, realized he’s just like the person he was spiting for so long… If he was better than him, this wouldn’t have happened.

He wouldn’t have brought down the one person who pulled him up.

The one person he wanted to marry.

[sea-salted-wolverine]

EAT LOTS, GET FAT = SUCCESSFUL BEAR

HAVE ITTY BITTY BABIES WHILE ASLEEP, WAKE UP WHEN THEY'RE CUTE AND FLUFFY AND READY TO PLAY

SMARTER THAN THE STUPIDEST TOURISTS WHEN IT COMES TO TRASHCANS

THE ORIGINAL STUFFED TOY

COLOR MORPHS! CINAMON AND BLUE AND BLACK AND BROWN AND GRIZZ AND SPIRIT AND PANDAS AND POLAR (sun bear looks like a dude in a suit, gives me the heebie jebbies, got spots tho)

NICE WEATHER? GET TO SNACKIN! BAD WEATHER? GET TO SNOOZIN!

honestly bears are how humans should be. bears are an improvement on the human blueprint. they can get up on their back legs like a man.... but they also walk on four legs so they don't get cocky and forget where they came from (the earth). big and hairy and silly. can kill with a single swipe of the paw

[moriohs-little-demon]

💩 at least five, your choice

5 ridiculous headcanons? Alright, you asked for it.

1. Tea and Nozomi have the most polarizing tastes in music, they look like they'd be what the other is into. Tea is into metal (rob zombie, slipknot, korn, etc) while Nozomi is into pop (britney spears, nsync, destiny's child, etc)

2. No one has ever seen Raiden and Ryūjin's eyes. Ever. EVER. Not even their mom knows what they look like, they were constantly sleeping as babies and would get soap in their eyes in the bath. Eventually their hair grew so long it didn't matter anymore. The only person who knows this forbidden knowledge is one Garner Tenrio.

3. Mitsu has a bug zapper flyswatter, she'll smack you in the arse with it if you bug her while she's snoozin.

4. There are so many stuffed animals on Tea's bed she has to carefully maneuver herself onto it every night into her little cookie cutter spot or they all tumble off the bed in a stuffie mass extinction event. This happens almost every single night, she still cries.

5. Myojo absolutely should not have milk, he is lactose intolerant and suffers from IBS. He continues to disobey god anyway.

[martinaphillips]

Polar Poem Part II

“Polar bear?” Phil had never heard such a phrase All in town looked at him, he caused quite a craze Everyone in this town happened to be human Where were others that looked like Phil? Were they snoozin’?

Where was Phil’s sister and his brother? Not to mention, most importantly, his mother! It caused much anxiety and a feeling of despair One man decided to show comfort and care

“Hey, I know right now everything might seem scary and cause you to tear, This is how things are in town, I’m willing to guess you’re not from around here.” The man figured Phil was from Far North, a place where there was still snow and cold That reality does not exist anywhere else, those are from days of old

The man explained the temperature got warmer and the ice melted away Soon many traveled up, liked it, and decided to stay They built houses, businesses, restaurants, a library, an airport Government buildings, theaters, car dealership, and even a resort

To some the area was not a beautiful as before by any fraction But visiting and living at the North Place was a major tourist attraction Besides there was fake snow and cardboard polar bears in the town museum Many would travel far and wide just to see ‘em

This wasn’t the place Phil once called home A part of him wished he was still frozen in the snow Also, he was feeling a way that he had never felt before Phil was dripping wet and felt completely exhausted, for sure

The man noticed and said, “You need some help right now! You’re not adapted to this climate! You have to cool down!” A place to do this at needed some thought For that day’s temperature was 97 degrees hot!

Phil felt weak and moved slowly, at the most So this cold place needed had to be somewhere close Air conditioning wasn’t cold enough and a refrigerator was too small The place they need had to be different from them all

The man knew where to go, he finally got a clue A restaurants were known to have freezers that were huge Phil and the man were turned away from places they went The restaurants any sight of a bear, customers they wouldn’t get

Others thought Phil would eat their food while thought it was all a trick “You need room for an extinct animal, we’re not that thick?” A place agreed, though Phil heard remarks as he went in there He thought, “There’s so much fuss with him being the last polar bear!”

[ronjonjo365]

Joe - Raindrops are tappin' the tarp. It's 9:30 in the morning and I'm kicked back in my recliner enjoying my second cup o' coffee. I slept well, this same drizzle was a lullaby on my tent last night to accompany the sound of glacial melt rushing down the Matanuska waterway 100 yards from camp. It's shaping up to be a day best spent under shelter close to supplies and reading material and I'm nodding off lost in those thoughts. Me and the dog detect the sound simultaneously. He bounces out of my lap as I strain to visually confirm my suspicions. An old Chevy truck pulls up to the bridge. I know that sound. I know that guy. I hope I'm wrong about knowin' what he wants to do. I'm not. Wayne rounds the corner onto the camp trail grinnin' like a goofus. He gives me one of the beers he's carrying, pops the top on his and sits in the dog's chair (yeah, the dog has a chair, it's a recliner...not bad for a homeless guy eh?) and announces his intention to drag me off to some bay on the coast of Alaska and help me catch salmon. "Right now?" is my initial query. Can't I finish my nap and wait for the weather to clear are my immediate thoughts... "Pack yer shit, here's some dry bags. Ya got a fishin' pole?" FUCK! It takes half an hour and we're heading south. I packed for cold and wet. Wayne says we're snaggin' 'em. I don't know what that means, I don't know what to expect. "People are trying to come with us, a woman with kids," he explains, "I ain't no babysitter, we gotta get outta town before she can find us." We stop at the govt game office for a proxy permit. They say no. We go to a coffee shack for some biscuits and gravy. I read the fine print and point out a flaw in their reasoning. We go back to argue with the govt. they say no. Wayne's head is gonna pop. We gotta get outta dodge. We're waiting on traffic trying to exit the parking lot and make good our escape when the woman with kids appears out of the line of vehicles. She pulls up and rolls down her window. Apparently she wants to make some plans. Wayne is turning red, "OK," he rolls up his window and we're on our way. There's a friend in Anchorage. We stop for a packet of powder guaranteed to enhance our expedition experience and increase our salmon harvest. Travelling the Turnagain Arm road the truck starts acting up, starvin' for gas is the prognosis. We stop at a pullout and pop the hood. I gotta pee. I retreat to the trees. In the process it occurs to me what are the odds that woman and those kids will find us here. I zip up and turn around in time to see her truck pull up. I have yet to meet any of these people. Wayne's been cussin' 'em out the whole way so I don't expect much. Through the side I can see eyes and hair in the back seat and skinny limbs hanging out the windows. Much noise emanates from the area. She wants to make more plans. "OK," Wayne says and we close the hood and leave. The weather clears but the mood is stormy She trails us all the way into Seward. We find a place to park and access the water. Poles are set up with inch long treble hooks with a 10 ounce weight in the middle. The woman has poles and hooks for all in her party. Wayne takes notice. The tide's coming in so we have a long walk to where people are fishing. They cast the hook halfway across a 30 foot channel then jerk the rod. Pull in the slack like a fly rod then jerk again, pull the assembly out of the water and toss it to the middle again...over and over in hopes a passing salmon will get impaled on one of the treble hooks. If the surroundings weren't so beautiful this repetitive slinging and jerking would get monotonous. Then some guy 15 feet downstream pulls 5 pounds of fighting salmon out of the slough and you redouble your efforts. It's a maddening way to spend an evening. Thank dog for beer. Wayne is warming up to the woman and her kids when she shows they can take care of themselves and we don't have to babysit. Hell, even her 7 year old daughter is standing in the water slinging and jerking. We all get skunked. The tide is coming in fast and the water's getting deep so we head back to a tent camp we spotted in town. The woman is completely unprepared for camping. She comes across a tent tucked away behind the debris collecting in the back of the truck but nobody thought to bring a sleeping bag or blanket. The powder works its magic and I don't sleep a wink all night which is funny when you think about it. Here I am all rolled up in a kingsized sleeping bag with my eyes bugging out of my head, my brain working overtime and not a chance for zzz's to kick in while the woman and her kids are huddled and cuddled up in a cheap tent trying to spread body warmth. I feel bad now...I didn't then. I did donate a polar fleece shirt . I was tired of watching the 7 year old shiver. I'm 6'3" she's 3' nuthin' I figure she could use the shirt as a sleeping bag. I've yet to get it back. We find better water access for $20 in the morning. We meet some interesting people on the way. One guy named Darrell from Cedar Rapids Iowa."I just like to kill shit and eat it," is his philosophy. Interesting. That was my dads name and that's where he was from though that wasn't my dad's philosophy. Another guy named Rich from Anchorage who grows pot professionally. I get his phone number. Another guy from Ukraine whose story was so convoluted I'm still confused. Wayne catches a couple fish. The woman caught one too. I get skunked again but I'm privy to a heartwarming scene: We are trudging to a new channel 'cause the one we were fishin' wasn't producing. I pick a spot next to an old guy sitting on a bucket holding his head in his hands. Wayne taps the guy on the shoulder and asks if everything is ok. The guy looks up and says, "Yeah, I'm just a little tired. I just want to catch a fish." Wayne says, "Ok but you can't catch anything if yer hook ain't in the water." "I know," the guy sets up to restart the slinging and jerking process. Wayne walks past a couple fisher folk and starts fishing. We're not here five minutes when Wayne hooks into a salmon. He keeps the rod tip up, excuses himself to get around 2 guys with poles and presents the old guy with his rod, "Here's yer fish." The old guy grabs the rod like a pro, passes his to Wayne and reels in the catch. The smile on his face will stay with me for a long time. I'm still skunked but the kids are a joy to be around. They're not stupid and they're not whiners. They smile a lot, stay active and are capable of coherent conversation. The weather includes sunshine and warmth and things are looking up even if I can't catch a damn fish. Eagles are common as crows with all the fish food the anglers leave behind but they're still impressive. The $20 dollar entrance fee includes camping so we find a place in the weeds, away from a flock of screeching sea gulls and pitch tents. The demon dust works its spell and my body rests but my mind wanders through another sleepless night. The morning finds me and Wayne sitting around a campfire talking ourselves into the long walk to the water for a final attempt. The woman and her kids are still snoozin', we don't need no stinkin' food, we pack our nostrils, grab our poles and head out. A mile later we're at waters edge. Not a channel, this is the bay at low tide. We're casting 50 yards into saltwater. My first cast lands a flounder. He gets to swim again. My second cast hooks into a nice sized salmon. Heehee I'm not a vegetarian ('vegetarian' is native for 'bad hunter'). Wayne pulls one in too. The action slows so we go. The woman and her kids are out fishing so we break camp and head out. Highway traffic is at a crawl on this 2 lane main artery. Tourists are gawking, roadwork is halting progress and we need ice for the fish. We have to wait till Anchorage for the frozen cubes but it's a beautiful day and we have food. It's a good trip!