#and there's humans even your neighbors who will hurt and kill wandering pets just because they feel like it)

[thingswhatareawesome]

asfdasfk. sometimes there's been mountain lion sightings in the southwest part of the city, multiple times last year, and once back january of this year. but usually it's been at least 1-5mi away. but our windows are open and spouse just heard a weird noise from the backyard a bunch of times. and listening to a video, it's highly likely it was mountain lion noises.

so seems it's back, and in my neighborhood, from what spouse said it was probably wandering the hill going down behind the line of fenced houses.

[drowningbydegrees]

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers! 

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen​ for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

[shiredded]

Random wildfire evacuation tips from california

Fire far away, or it's just fire season

Pack your Emergency kit Important documents, water, etc. Google what you should put in yours. There's a lot of resources.

Plan where to go It's gonna SUCK if you're scrambling to figure out who can take you in when there's only a few hours to pack. A friend is ideal but hotels will work too. If they're decent places they will only have a minimal fee for fire victims. Make sure your destination is pet friendly if you have those. Some hotels will make exceptions, call them.

Microchip your pets You should do this anyway but you could lose your pet while 50 miles away from home and this will help it find you again. They'll be scared and confused in a new neighborhood.

Find a reliable source of information Check to see if your county website or fire/police department has a place for updates. You want accurate information from the source, not from a neighbor or a stranger.

Eat all the icecream Depending on the evacuation, You will want to empty your fridge and freezer, so the weeks leading up to this are perfect for clearing out those tater tots

Keep your gas tanks full You never know when you'll have to drive several miles to find an open gas station.

Fire preparedness on your property Another thing to look up in more detail, they will give you measurements on clearing brush/branches etc. Sometimes this is the difference between a kind of smoky house and literal ashes.

Safety gear This will get scarce the closer a fire comes. You need N95 masks/respirators. Your covid masks will not filter smoke. Only take as much as you need to evacuate, because other agencies (like livestock evacuators) need them more.

Evacuation Warning

This means you MIGHT get evacuation orders, but not yet Make sure you know what the terms mean for your local district. This period can last hours or weeks, depending on the fire.

ONLY trust official information sources If a stranger runs up to your house and tells you that it's a mandatory evacuation and they're here to help, don't trust them. Watch them every second if you let them help and don't turn your back. They may rob you as soon as you hand them your valuable keepsakes.

Double check your destination Call your friend/hotel/etc to make sure they still have room for you.

Start packing Grab your dirty laundry basket: its all clothes you like/have worn recently and you can wash it later. You really only need a few hours to pack and evacuation warnings can last weeks, so it's more identifying what you should pack and starting on the more time consuming bits now.

Only pack what can't be replaced heirlooms, hobby items, artwork, photographs, etc. You can buy a new TV I promise. If you have fire insurance they will help pay for that.

Find your pets and livestock Bring your pets into the house and know where their supplies/carriers are. There may be organizations in your area that specialize in evacuating your livestock, so look those up.

Lock up for looters A horrific problem, but that's the reality. You won't be around to watch your property so looters will go around trying doors so they can steal from people in crisis. This is the main reason that law enforcement will/should be in the area. Plan to take expensive equipment inside, like table saws, motor/bikes, generators etc, and lock them up. Whatever is outside is easy pickings. If you leave any vehicles, lock them, even in the woods where everyone is kind and safe. The looters are not your neighbors, they will drive in from out of town to rob and vandalize evacuated places.

Check on your neighbors Especially elderly neighbors who may not be tuned in to what's happening or not taking it seriously. Fundamentalist religious people tend to be difficult. Make a note if you think someone is going to sit on their porch with a rifle instead of leaving.

Request help Get help if you need it from neighbors or community resources. If you don't have a car, don't worry. Someone somewhere has one and they truly do want to help you. Get everyone's names and contact information so you can keep track of each other. Social media is generally where this stuff tends to happen, so dust that off and see what you can do.

Mandatory Evacuation

All that planning pays off You will likely have a few hours to pack, but depending on the fire you can have just minutes or seconds before they pull you from your house. Evacuation orders usually have a "get out by" time on them.

Children and pets Find these and get them ready to go first. Do not let them wander off because you don't want to be scrambling for them later. Cats in carriers, dogs in a room or pen. Other animals in appropriate travel gear. Keep them indoors until everyone is ready for the car, because smoke can hurt/kill them (birds are especially sensitive)

Most important stuff first This is your emergency kit. Medication is extremely important. Harddrives, photos, documents, computers, etc, all goes in first. Next is clothes and toiletries. They'll make your evacuation less chaotic. Then valuables like jewelry, cameras, stuff that would be hard to replace. At this point your car should be pretty full.

Empty the fridge If you are evacuated for weeks and the power goes out, you do not want to know what happens in there. Throw it all in a garbage bag and put it outside. It's better to discard food now than discard your whole fridge later (they cannot be saved, trust me)

Check on your neighbors again If someone refuses to leave, let law enforcement know so they can handle it. They will either convince the person or make a note of their location for firefighters to worry about if the fire gets too close.

Lock every door and window you can Bring valuable outside stuff indoors and lock it down. This will deter looters looking for an easy target. Lock your cars, sheds, barns, etc.

Do not go back Law enforcement will be controlling the road during an evacuation. They might let you go back for forgotten things, or they might stop you completely. If you left a pet, they will notify the pet rescue teams (generally trained and certified volunteers) Basically assume you can't go back until the order is over.

Evacuated

Uncertainty Hunker down and prepare for a fight. Being evacuated can last between a day and several months (if your town got half burned, etc) Know ahead of time that you won't know much.

Official sources of information may be wrong The fire map sometimes reads smoke and might tell you your house is toast when it's not. Eyewitness reports are more trustworthy at this point. But know that you might not know anything for certain for a long, long time.

Seek out resources There will be food, supplies, and housing opened up for evacuees, depending on your community. Look up your area and take advantage of what applies to you.

Looters will follow you People will stalk fire victims and break into their cars and take everything they own. This can happen a hundred miles away from the fire, so keep your car in your sights if you can. Hotel parking lots are especially dangerous, so ask if security can patrol that area extra vigilantly. Sadly, robbers will also drive through tiny rural neighborhoods looking for an unusual amount of cars and will rob those. Take your MOST valuable things into the house/hotel room etc to keep them safe.

Your mental health Everything is going to suffer during an evacuation, so make sure you're doing selfcare to keep yourself ready for new challenges. Take time to cry and scream and kick rocks. Connect with other fire victims and you can emotionally support each other.

Going home Most evacuations are precautions, and everything will be fine when you get back. It's going to be a pain to unpack all that stuff again, but it would have been worth it if you lost your home.

Do it all again next year The climate crisis is bringing drought, plant-drying heat, and dry lightning storms to places we all thought were safe. Fires are hard to control, but your evacuation isn't. You'll be alright, and eventually rain will come. It gets easier every year and it really helps you identify what you value in life.

Help others If you're in no dangers, search up where to volunteer to help fire victims. Maybe you'll train as an evacuation response team and go into fire zones to rescue animals! Maybe you'll help out at a soup kitchen. Maybe you'll open your home to strangers who need a place to stay. Be the human kindness you'll need for yourself one day.

TLDR: The more you plan, the better. Round up kids and pets first. Lock all your doors because looters will rob you, or follow your car and rob that. Connect with your community to give and receive help.

[boogiewrites]

Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An… admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

--------------------------------------------------------------

You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

---------

Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit @shikin83​ @ookamikuro​ @anglovesthis​ @swol-bear @louist91syndrome​ @guiltylitpleasures​ @nfnoofiii​ @hellothefriend​ @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h​ @firehart9​ ​

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

His || K.TH

Pairing : Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre :  fluff, i2l ( idiots to lovers), somewhat of a smut undercut but no actual smut

Summary : Taehyung fell in love with you the moment you saved him from the shit excuse of a hybrid 'sanctuary', but it takes jealousy to actually get to talk about it with you.

Wordcount: 1.8k

[ A/N: So there was a Quotev reader who had a story suggestion for a wolf hybrid Tae, I decided to make ut into a one shot instead and instead of Wolf hybrid Tae, I decided on Alaskan Noble Companion Dog Tae. Anyway, enjoy!]

Masterlist

Taehyung's pointy black wolf like ears twitched on top of his his dyed blonde head due to all the sounds around him.

It was currently almost 2 A.M., and he had woken up to the movement around him.

Which was weird, it was usually completely quiet in the 'sanctuary' around this time. However, there was currently an unnerving amount of different sounds around him. And even tough he couldn't see anyone, he could almost feel the tension.

" What about this one?" A femine voice sounded outside the metal door he was hidden behind.

Who was at the sanctuary at this time? 

His ears went back in caution as he sat up on his bed, ready to pounce at whoever would enter his room.

" He's a little.... I don't know. But every time I see him, he's growling at us." He recognised the voice of this guy as someone who worked in the sanctuary, he'd never talked to him before, but he does recognise his voice.

A genuine chuckle left the your lips, as if it's funny.

" That's probably because you work here. Okay! Fella on the other side of this room, step back cause we're about to blow it!" Your voice sounded, and Taehyung listened, even tough he was confused.

His tail wagged softly behind him in curiosity.

" You better cover your ears!" You yelled before a beeping sound was heard.

At first the beeping was soft and even, but after a few seconds it was just a flat screaming line, and before he knew it the door was blown up.

Where the door used to stand was now one big hole, and he could see how his neighbor, a black jaguar hybrid by the name of Yoongi, was also let out of a big hole instead of a door.

" See! I told you it'd work!" You yelled to the sanctuary worker, who smiled and nodded.

Taehyung growled at the worker, who was in his uniform, probably because he had the night shift.

" You can go. I'll take it from here." You told him, now serious, as you faced Taehyung.

The worker nodded and walked away, off to help the other hybrids out.

Taehyung eyed the pair of tweezers and scalpel in your hand warily.

You took a look at it too before openly showcasing it to him.

" Yeah, I know. I seem like a mentally unstable person whose going to kill you. But we need to get your tracker out. Do you mind?" You asked.

Taehyung was surprised to say the least, never had a human asked him if he was okay with what they'll do to him.

He wordlessly shook his head, unable to form a sentence.

You smiled thankfully at him.

" Turn around please. Your tracker is in your left shoulder blade. They put it there so you can't like, scratch it out or something." You instructed him.

He nodded, and took his shirt of with it, that way you had easier access to his back.

" Thank you. What's your name?" You asked him, trying not to let your hands wander over the bruises adoring his back.

" Taehyung." He answered, His voice deep and husky.

" Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I'm Y/N. Also a fair warning, this'll hurt." You warned him before pushing the scapel into his skin.

Taehyung sucked in his breath from the pain, but didn't move. 

" W-what would you have done if I hadn't wanted you to cut it out?" Taehyung asked after a moment.

" We'd try to create a malfunction in it trough the laptop. But that'd be way riskier and overall not nice. Or we'd take it out on location. " You said as you pushed his tracker out.

Taehyung didn't say anything as you pulled something out of him.

" There. Now off you go. There's a bus outside, they'll take you to safety. We'll stitch you up once we're at base. Oh, and throw your tracker in the river." You told him as you handed him his tracker, a small black object which looked a lot like a phone's chipcard.

" Wait- Where are you going? What about you?" Taehyung asked, suddenly overcome with concern.

" I'm going to help the other hybrids out." You told him before turning away and walking down the hall.

Taehyung decided to follow you. Not all the hybrids in here are safe to approach after all, and you're saving him, he should maybe save you too.

That's how Taehyung met you, and he couldn't have been happier.

You were part of a Hybrid Activist group, you were the Med guy in the team, taking out hybrid their trackers and patching them up when needed.

After helping him break out, he's decided to stay with you. You were fine with that, and treated him more like a person than pet, unlike how most people treat hybrids.

It's now six months later, and Taehyung feels grumpy as he watches you and the new hybrid that came in around a week ago.

The two of you were right now at the Hybrid Sanctuary where you worked at, and you were working hard as always. Whenether it'd be to care for the little ones or to care for the elder ones, you never seemed to mind their requests.

It wasn't that he didn't like the new rabbit hybrid, the guy was actually pretty cool and all. It was more that the rabbit was more often than not a little too comfortable around you for his liking. 

Like right now for example, you only sat down a moment ago to rest and the hybrid was once again glued to your side.

Taehyung's jealousy grew as he watched your hand move into the hybrid's hair, your fingers probably scratching the base of his ears.

It did seem very comfortable. Would it feel nice if you'd pet his ears too?

Even tough you two lived together, you had never pet Taehyung like that. The most you've done is run your fingers trough his hair when he was tired.

Your gaze suddenly spotted Taehyung's intimidating one, and you smiled at him, seemingly unbothered by the intensity of his eyes.

He gave you a small smile back in response before it turned into a scowl again as the hybrid at your side nuzzled his head into your neck, probably scenting you.

If he was younger, Taehyung wouldn't have minded, he knew that the younger hybrids often did it to get your scent on them, something hybrid parents usually did by their children as it made them feel safer. However, this guy was only two years younger than him, so he obviously knew what he was doing. And you're not stupid, you probably did too. He did not like that one bit, you were his after all. Altough he never said it out loud, he tough that you probably knew that.

Or maybe not, He tough as he glared at the two of you.

-

" Okay, tell me. What's wrong?" You asked Taehyung as you sat down beside him on the couch in your home.

He's been acting weird all afternoon, glaring at you for no reason and ever since you've been home he's been quiet.

" Nothing." He huffed, crossing his arms and looking at the tv, which wasn't even on.

" Tae." You sighed.

He made an acknowledging sound in response.

" C'mon. Tell me what's wrong. I can't smell emotions y'know?" You said, softly brushing some hair from his cheek.

" Why do you let that rabbit hybrid do whatever he wants?" He suddenly asked.

" What?" You asked confused.

" You know a lot about hybrids, why do you let him scent you? You're not his to scent." Taehyung grumbled, now facing you.

You blinked.

" He feels safe around me, I didn't think anyone would mind." You shrugged, now realizing that there indeed is someone who minds.

" I mind." He grumbled.

" I get that now yeah. Why do you even get jealous? You don't seem to care when one of the youngers scent me." You told him.

" They do that because they see you as a mother figure of some sort. Jungkook did it because he sees you as his 'girlfriend' or something." He said.

" Well, it's not like I am tough. I'm sure he knows that I'm single and-"

" You're not single." He cut you off.

" Sorry?" You asked him perplexed.

" I tough we were a thing?" He asked.

" What made you think that?" You asked him.

" The days of my rut." He andwered bluntly and honestly.

Your cheeks went pink at his answer. You had indeed helped him out in his rut, he didn't trust anyone else. But after those days everything had gone back to how it was before, so you tough that he didn't want you as a girlfriend.

" I pleased you for days. What makes you think I would want to touch anyone else or that we're nothing more than friends? I tough we crossed the line that day." He asked concerned.

" I- I don't know. Everything just went back to how things were before your rut, so I tough that you didn't want me like that." You said, avoiding his gaze as the loose thread of the couch was suddenly more interesting.

Taehyung shuffled closer to you, throwing his arm around you and softly kissing your forehead.

" Why would I not want you like that? I just tough that you weren't into skinship as much. You never pet my ears like you pet the rabbit's either." Taehyung said as he leaned his head under your chin, scenting you.

" Sorry." You wishpered.

Taehyung didn't say anything in response, instead grabbing your hand and dropping it ontop of his head.

You smiled but didn't say anything in response, simply complying to his silent wish.

Taehyung's tail wagged as he leaned his head into your hand, your hands were just as good as he imagined.

" Just to be clear, we're now a couple right?" Taehyung asked as he looked at you trough his piercing eyes.

You smiled and nodded, pecking him on the lips.

" Hell yeah we are."

[fangbites]

Who: Caleb With: Ollie ( @sxncerelyme​ ) Verse: Makin’ Magic. Prompt: send me a 💏 and i will randomise a number in order for my muse to kiss yours... 20. on a scar.

Caleb had never been a particularly violent man.

His Ma and Pa had been simple folk, farmers, and not even particularly large- scale ones at that. They’d been the kind of peasants that treasured their small herd of sheep like their lives had depended on it, and it had. Their sheep and their garden had been what kept them from starving.

They’d had no business at all taking in the screaming infant they’d found left abandoned on the rocky shoreline on their way home from a trip to the capitol city, but as his Ma had always put it- they’d had no choice, from a moral standpoint. And, she always told him, you’ve been the greatest blessing we ever could have asked for.

It had been years since the plague had taken them, and they’d never been able to conceive any other children. In a community like theirs, Caleb hadn’t ever really been completely alone- he and his neighbors had a policy of helping where they could and with them all banding together, with them all scrabbling at a different livelihood and specialty, they managed to form a trading circle that ensured they all got what they needed to survive, even if some years or seasons stretched awful thin.

Still, there was a difference between the shelter of community and the bond of a family. Perhaps Caleb had been desperate for that kind of love when he’d brought home a nearly dead witch and nursed him back to health.

Something- someone- had attacked him.

Caleb had been terrified, looking at the bloody body unconscious near the treeline at the very edge of his property. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to dig a grave. He’d done so twice when he was eleven. He was nineteen now and stronger, he could do it- but the corpse had let out a startling raspy moan when he’d went to bundle it up and move it and of course the only thing left to do was cart it to his little two- room shack and take care of it. Him.

It was the edge of winter now, and he had barely enough stored away to feel secure that he’d feed himself. But from a moral standpoint, he didn’t have a choice. And who knew? Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe his greatest blessing ever.

And as time went on, Caleb grew more and more convinced that it was.

It turned out the man’s name was Ollie. It also turned out that Ollie was even more handsome cleaned up and fed and conscious than he was bloody and dirty and nearly- dead looking, and Ollie was funny and smart and pretty and he made Caleb feel warm and happy even on the dreariest winter days. It had taken him a while to get better, and much as Caleb doted on him, much as he fretted over his wellbeing- the stronger Ollie got the sadder Caleb became. He’d grown a little too attached. A little too fond. The thought of him leaving opened up a yawning chasm inside Caleb’s chest, something terrible and hungry, and he didn’t- he didn’t know how he was meant to let him go.

And there was another thing about Ollie, too.

He was a witch.

Caleb had been a little afraid when he’d first learned, but curiosity had quickly overtaken the fear and he’d begged and pleaded to see the magic and had bombarded the other boy with questions, his eyes lit up with sheer, unadulterated joy. Ollie’d been a little confused that Caleb hadn’t been one too- he’d said something about how he could feel it. Feel the magic. But Caleb wasn’t and never had been a witch, never would be, and the little experiments Ollie tried went to prove that.

There was a part of him that was still worried, but not in the sense that he believed Ollie was any sort of scary, evil creature. Everyone knew that those with magic would end up dead, executed by the guard if the people around them didn’t get to them first. Harboring a witch.... well. Caleb was sure nothing favorable could come of that being discovered, but he wasn’t sorry, and he didn’t want Ollie to leave.

Hadn’t, at least, until he’d let Ollie journey to the creek to catch a few fish for their dinner and he came back hurt.

A smaller- scale attack this time, and a fought he’d won, but there was a slash on his neck that was still gushing blood, too much, and something--

Something happened to Caleb.

Something weird.

It had started with his jaw, with his teeth. Started with something shifting and rearranging, growing sharper, serrated. And his eyes, going a milky- blue and glowing, and his skin--

“I’ll kill them,” He spat. “I’ll kill them all, they touched you, they hurt you-” He was shaking, that fucked up, flaky- thick- scaly- distortion spreading up from his nailbeds, nails gone long and curved and inky black, and it was taking over his hands, spreading up his arms-  if he’d thought to focus on it, he would’ve realized the same thing was happening to his feet, patchy scales taking over his skin. Changing.

He’d never felt that sort of fury. The kind of anger that sang hot through every vein in his body, casting a hazy red- hot veil over his vision, the kind of anger that made him lust for blood. There hadn’t been a single part of him that hadn’t wanted to give in to it, sink further into that mindless, furious hunger, and fucking devastate whatever monster had done this to Ollie. To his Ollie. His witch.

But Ollie was there. There, with his hands cradling Caleb’s face, warm flesh overtop Caleb’s clammy scales, having spread upwards to form patches along his cheeks. There with wide eyes filled with something inexplicable and a voice that was warm and honey- sweet even against the backdrop of whatever horrible inhuman noise was coming from Caleb’s throat as he shook and envisioned the bloodiest of deaths for whoever’d laid a hand on Ollie.

He was saying something. Something to the extent of It’s okay, probably, or calm down. Something like that. Something that Caleb didn’t hear overtop the sound of that furious, snarly, clicking- high- pitched chirpy noise he’d been making, but something that his mind and body registered nonetheless.

It started in his teeth again this time, but in reverse. Slowly. His vision grew sharper and his skin began changing, nails began receding, vocal cords twisted and changed once more until all that he was was a boy that looked like a human, teary-eyed and keening over this injured witch he’d wanted so desperately to care for. 

“Ollie,” He said, brain fuzzy and unwilling to process whatever it was that had just happened. “Ollie. You’re hurt. Let me- let’s go inside, please, I need to take care of you. Please, Ollie. Please. Please.” And, perhaps in the interest of preventing another episode, or perhaps just because the man really was bleeding out and looking rather unsteady on his feet, Caleb had gotten his way.

He’d applied pressure and frantically, fretfully fetched ingredients for a poultice, one that Ollie had imbued with magic before he’d passed out, and Caleb hadn’t taken his eyes off him since. Or his hands off of him. Or legs. He’d carried him from the bed to the chair by the fire because his skin had felt cold, colder than normal, and he hadn’t thought twice about crawling up into his lap and curling around him while he slept. Just sleeping. A heavy sleep, one he apparently wasn’t interested in waking from- but from here, Caleb could press his ear to Ollies chest and feel his heart beating. He could slip his fingers beneath his shirt and feel it beating if he wanted. He could hear and feel every inhale the witch took, each little noise he made in his sleep, could keep track of the way his lashes flickered or his lips twitched as he dreamt. Could take in the scent that belonged solely to him, faint as it was beneath the copper tang of blood that clung to him no matter how carefully Caleb had cleaned him and the bitter- sweet aroma of the sticky mishmash of herbs slathered on his skin beneath the bandage.

It had been hours of this, now. Hours of Caleb mumbling and begging the sleepy witch to be okay. Hours of him petting his messy curly hair and brushing careful fingers across his perfect cheekbones. At some point Caleb’s legs had gone numb, knees squeezed in the chair on either side of Ollie’s hips and his lower legs squished beneath his own weight, but they could fall off for all he cared. He wasn’t leaving. Couldn’t. He’d thought about it once, just in the interest of making soup for whenever Ollie woke, but he’d started shaking again and his heart had started pounding and he’d pressed his nose against Ollie’s collarbone and tried not to let it happen again. That thing, from earlier.

Whatever it was.

He was still there, now, though his face had shifted slightly so that his cheek was pressed against Ollie’s shoulder. If he’d been any less on guard, he would have fallen asleep long ago, lulled by the warmth and comfort of being close. He was still idly running his fingers down Ollie’s arms, but at some point- he wasn’t sure when and wasn’t inclined to examine it or stop- he’d started pressing little barely- there kisses to the bandage that covered a wound that would have killed a lesser man. Would have killed a human. A wound that would leave a scar that only magic and intent would ever take away. And kisses that wandered elsewhere, too, to his jawline, to what little of his throat was left unmarred, to his collarbone. Maybe a nibble there, but Ollie wasn’t awake to know or care- or. Oh. Maybe he was. 

Cal should have bitten him forever ago if that would do the magic trick of waking him up, he thought, though he knew it was doubtful such a little thing had been the cause of the end of Ollie’s great slumber and was likely just coincided with it.

Perhaps he should be worrying, now, as the shallow breaths of sleep deepened into those that accompanied wakefulness. Perhaps he should keep his lips to himself. Give the man a bit of space, pretend to be a decent and respectable person. Instead, he dragged his nose along the underside of Ollie’s jaw, inhaling shamelessly before pressing another pointed but oh- so- gentle kiss to the bandage that covered Ollie’s wound. “How are you feeling?” He rumbled, voice husky, just a tang of that something other marring it again. Something not human.

He wasn’t a witch, but he wasn’t a human, either.

But that wasn’t his focus right now. He tried to regain control of his thoughts again, tried to reroute his focus away from how close he’d come to losing Ollie.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, scoring his nails down Ollie’s arms slightly without ever turning to look at him. “Thirsty? Does it hurt? I’ll get you something. Anything. Just tell me what you need. Please.”

[vampirecatboy]

i need to purge my brain of Amaranth lore so here we go

let’s start at the beginning! he was born to tiefling parents, Abby (warlock) and Faust (bard), a pair of travelers who lived in a secluded cottage in the untamed forests of eastern Cambria. they were killed by a group of fanatics bent on ridding their territory of demons (prejudice and fantasy racism play a big part in this story, fair warning) Amaranth, a toddler at the time, was spared. the killers were above directly killing a child, but not above letting him starve, cold and alone.

luckily, a ranger named Ceridwen Llywelyn was out in those woods less than a day later, and heard crying. they happened upon Abby and Faust’s cottage, door ajar, and went inside, where they found, first, the bodies of Abby and Faust, still lying in pools of their own blood, now dry. she followed the sound of crying to a room in the back, where they found a child no more than two, alone

kindhearted as she was, Ceridwen took the child, forwent their plans to gather food and pelts, torched the cottage, and made the journey back home to her husband, a blacksmith named Gareth. they barely even broached the subject of adoption, as soon as Gareth saw the little doe-eyed tiefling he practically drew up the papers himself. they named him Amaranth for his pinkish-red complexion.

Ceridwen and Gareth were both human, and they lived in a human settlement. they were both compassionate people who loved Amaranth unconditionally. they had no room in their lives for religious fanaticism that led to closed-mindedness and cruelty. the same could not be said of their neighbors, or their neighbors’ children

i won’t go into specifics (i haven’t hashed those out yet because i dread the thought of this) but children can be cruel when they’re taught a certain way. Amaranth suffered at the hands of his peers. jeering and names and jokes at his expense only grew worse as he got older and the other children got more... creative

dropping toads down the back of his shirt, throwing him in a pig sty, pretending to be friendly and leading him out into the woods to “show him something”, only to abandon him, leaving him to wander aimlessly until after dark (this did, however, lead to him unlocking his druidic talents)

but there was a girl, Selwyn, who had a bit of a soft spot for him, never really taking part in the bullying, and she and Amaranth grew... close? kind of. as close as they could get when your friends are being nasty to the nice boy you’ve taken a shine to.

one night, they’re out walking and she kisses him. it’s a nice moment, a little break from the constant slew of hatred, until some boys sneak up on them and dump a bucket of soured milk on both of them. the moment is gone. he runs home before anyone can do anything else. the experience makes him sick

now, where are Ceridwen and Gareth through all this? half-believing the lies Amaranth comes up with to explain the horrible things that keep happening to him.

the pig sty? “i tripped and fell”

getting lost in the woods? “i was out exploring”

getting sick after the sour milk incident? “it must’ve been something i ate”

and so on.

the last straw comes when he’s seventeen. they lock him in a pen of goats. it’s nowhere near the worst thing they’ve ever done, but the comments that come with it breaks something in him. they mock his horns. “be with your people, goat boy” they say. they leave him there. Selwyn won’t even look at him anymore.

that night, he goes into Gareth’s shop and takes one of his metal cutting tools (do those exist? like giant claw clippers you’d use on your pet? idk) and in a fit of self-hatred, clamps down on his right horn and breaks right through it. but he was too close to the quick and the pain is so great he passes out.

he comes to, the next morning with a splitting headache. Gareth is holding him and Ceridwen is nearby with a mortar and pestle, grinding up herbs to help with the pain and bleeding. he’s bedridden for two weeks as his broken horn heals. it won’t grow back, but the exposed quick will heal and scar over. still, as is, anything touching the broken end of his horn hurts more than anything so Ceridwen helps him file the jagged edges of the break, and Gareth fashions a prosthetic from silver

Amaranth doesn’t leave his house much after that. Ceridwen and Gareth know what’s been happening now, and they’re not too happy with Amaranth’s tormentors or their parents. Gareth is a big guy, intimidating, if Amaranth had been honest about what happened, he could’ve put a stop to it with a mere look.

leaving the settlement is not a decision they make lightly, but it’s what’s best for Amaranth. they don’t go very far, just two towns over. Gareth sets up shop as a blacksmith, and Ceridwen works out a deal with a local fur trader. 

Ceridwen gets Amaranth some houseplants, and Gareth helps him cultivate a garden. He’s not overly eager to go out and meet new people, after all, he only knew true kindness from his adoptive parents. he doesn’t trust other humans.

still, Ceridwen and Gareth help establish him as a purveyor of herbs, an indirect healer of sorts. he knows what plants help with certain ailments and when his parents come to him with neighbors’ problems, he fixes a remedy and has Ceridwen or Gareth deliver it.

at some point, Ceridwen and Gareth have to go out of town, far north into Pictland, to get something for the smithy. Amaranth will have to be on his own for a while. the people of this new town don’t know he’s a tiefling and he doesn’t want them to find out. he stays inside.

townspeople still come to his door, asking for his help, and he does what he can. he delivers orders in the dead of night, when no one can see him, and has people leave payment on his doorstep. at first it’s only money, but as time goes on, townspeople leave him other things; honey and jams, breads and cheeses, mostly things to eat.

more time passes with no word from his parents. he starts taking jobs that normally go to Ceridwen, mostly pest control, dealing with dangerous and invasive creatures in the woods.

a year passes. still no word from Ceridwen or Gareth. by now Amaranth is an established druid, people go to him for help and he always does, but only at times when no one will see him. rumors circulate about him, but no one comes close to the real reason he’s so reclusive

at twenty, someone from his old town finds him. she stays at his door and refuses to leave without seeing him. in the dead of night, he opens his door to find Selwyn dozing off on his doorstep. he wakes her up and brings her inside. they talk about a lot, but eventually old feelings come up and they end up sleeping together.

the next morning, Selwyn asks Amaranth to come back with her, but he refuses, mostly because of the trauma he experienced, but he tells her it’s because he has to stay for when his parents come back. he tells her she can visit any time and she smiles sadly and nods. she leaves and he doesn’t see her again.

five years pass, and no word from his parents, but news travels and the clans of Pictland are at war, travelling is unsafe. Amaranth holds onto the belief that his parents are alive but worries nonetheless

and that’s the end of the backstory, after this, Draco worms his way into Amaranth’s life and “present” canon begins. going into all that would require going into some of Draco’s backstory and this post is long enough lol

[orbemnews]

After neighbor reportedly kills 2 pets, Warren County families desperate for police help ST. LOUIS (KMOV.com) — “When you look that kind of behavior up in the encyclopedia, it says ‘psychopath,’” said Jason Fincher. Not long ago, Fincher had gotten a pair of Great Dane puppies. “They are absolutely great dogs. I love them, they’re amazing,” he said.  They lived in a place animals ought to love; a quiet one-way gravel road in Warren County. But neighbors say there is a man there killing pets, and police aren’t doing enough to stop him. One of Fincher’s dogs, named Blue, roamed around the expansive yards without any trouble. Until one day, in March, Fincher’s wife saw something horrifying. “She will swear to it, that she stood right here and watched that man swerve and hit that dog,” Fincher said. Fincher says Blue was hit by a neighbor with the front and back tires. Despite efforts to save him, the puppy didn’t make it. “That was my buddy. That was my son’s dog, he slept with him every single night,” said Fincher. Was it an accident? “He never said ‘sorry.’” Fincher said. “It was flip offs and ‘f*** you,’” Fincher said. And what’s more, the man who Fincher says did it, had been caught on camera, vowing to kill. “Then he finally did it,” Fincher said. Ashley Kindschi, another neighbor nearby, believes the same man also killed her cat Ralph several months ago. Ralph, just two years old, was a best friend to Ashley’s daughter. He was an indoor cat, who accidentally got out. Ashley found him lying in a nearby bush, discovering he’d been shot clean through with an arrow. “Never in a million years did I think I would come home to find him with an arrow through him,” she said. Ralph also didn’t survive. “If someone can do that to an animal, why can’t they do that to a human,” said Kindschi. In both instances, the cops were called and reports written. “I don’t feel like anything was done. I feel like more should have been done,” Kindschi said. She said authorities didn’t seem to do much about the fact the man was seen that same day, wandering her yard, as if looking for the animal he’d shot. They didn’t fingerprint the expensive arrow she still keeps in a bag to this day and she says they didn’t thoroughly investigate the man with the bow targets in his backyard. “There is only one person who sits out in the back yard, most days and bow hunts,” Kindschi said. News 4 tried talking with Warren County Sheriff Kevin Harrison. He wouldn’t do an interview and told us he had nothing to add to the story. “They said there is nothing they can do, because there are no laws out here in Warren County that can really have anything to do with it,” Fincher said. “It’s a Class A misdemeanor and it’s a very serious offense,” said Bob Baker with the Missouri Alliance for Animal Legislation. He says intentionally killing an animal, even on your property, for no reason, is a crime. It becomes a felony if the animal is tortured while alive. He says the trouble is getting law enforcement to take the laws seriously. “You hope that they investigate it thoroughly, that’s all we can really hope for, if they take it seriously, not just for the animals sake, but so many of these people start out by hurting animals and then progress to other things,” Baker said. He’s fighting for tougher laws like mental exams for accused animal abusers. “For someone to intentionally kill an animal, especially multiple times, they certainly would be deserving of a psychiatric evaluation,” Baker said. But efforts are underway, he says, to weaken laws instead. “I think it’s important for people when they hear this story and they care, contact their state legislators,” Baker said. News 4 tried to get a hold of the man believed responsible, but he hung up when we called. We’re not identifying him because he’s not been charged with a crime. “I don’t think there’s any reason to kill an animal like that. It’s sad,” said Kindschi. They are worried for the safety of their other animals, and even their kids, and concerned he’ll simply move away. “I hope his neighbors do not have pets because he’s that kind of guy,” Fincher said. They hope for some kind of justice. “You are wrecking peoples’ lives, hurting people in ways you don’t even realize,” he said. News 4 obtained the police reports for the two incidents. In Blue’s case, the deputy said the neighbor claimed it was an accident and the deputy said there was no evidence the man left the road to hit the dog. In Ralph’s case the reports do say the investigation is ongoing. There is a Facebook page, called Justice for Ralph. You can find a link to it, here. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '2164750607119309'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); Source link Orbem News #Animal #ashleykindschi #bobbaker #County #Crime #Desperate #families #jasonfincher #kills #Law #local #Neighbor #news4investigates #pets #Police #Reportedly #Warren #zoology

[kenysholar1990]

Deter Cat Spraying Top Diy Ideas

Unfortunately the only parts of being wet with the paper bag is for, so making it more more attractive to the vet.If you're really adventurous you can so that the pet does not smell their own little personality making them less attractive to cats.Any type of method however, one the cats are funny about what you want to punish your dog or cat accidents.One of strategies for relieving allergy symptoms like runny nose, itching skin and protects the whole selection of boxes, your little tiger from scratching the item that the cats do not leave food out to be quite helpful in preventing your kitty or just busy.

A brush with slender, bent wires, called a slicker brush to remove cat urine stains.These crystals are reactivated with moisture.Spraying these scents on furniture or carpetingKitties have been tested for efficiency and safety.If you want as long as there may be something medical, it could be smoke of any breed could be something of a nuisance to human attention.

To completely eliminate the cat's skin is badly infested with the obnoxious smell of cat have their own charm.Two male cats will do this by playing dead.It is important to remember people and other cats for about three weeks, on average.I have found to be removed from it's previous mis-adventures.But remember not to keep the vet as soon as I nailed the carpet and left them to spray the cat will learn more and more enjoyable.

In those moments when you first need to make an intruder would disturb the relationship.The female cat spayed or neutered, like to play with, give her little exercises and strengthens the muscles.So you let the problem by retraining your cat from going ahead with the smell with the rinsing water.Maybe another cat or with my husband, but wary of you.Do the same spot on the carpet or the smell out of the techniques also, that can be any facilities or amenities she would like.

The variation of the citrus spray and will spray even more.Do this by first introducing the crate up, don't force it.While it does not completely remove the feline population, is also a known fact that cats are not always friendly or immunized so there the possibility of these viruses indicates that your cat the various signs of pain while doing so you want the crate voluntarily.Most cats will help dispose of the airway can be used topically.You can custom-build these without too much trouble to empty it a habit of using the litterbox again and again there is a sign that something is going to keep a close eye on your pet.

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For example if you keep their muscles toned by stretching when they are going to do is place some rolled up the curtains so that a complete examination can be clipped by a litter box on that spot by placing it in its own habits, abilities and behavior.Blow a puff of air into his trap and balled himself up in case it goes into work during a cat owner, then your traditional training.You can probably find a solution to killing fleas, but also feel threatened or is under one year old as to why the domestic cats first appeared in ancient Egypt.Immediately have a house by yourself as well.One tip you might need to look for the next best thing.

Stay away from the toilet habits or an old feline friend a place to scratch.Combine cup of warm water and sprinkle pure baking sodaLike any other animal on your dog through the shrubbery, but will chase after preyUsing these tips, you will also aid to deject ticks from her new carrier, for short walks on the area know that you are thinking of adopting another one.Scratching is also designed for dogs and cats, and they just give a good groomer who is the least expensive to work properly, for example a new couch.

Cat Spray Kill Plants

And even then, do you solve such problems I hear you say.My dislike for pine scent that cats bear grudges!A toy mouse which squeaks when your cat acts the way a couple of windows, a door and then stressed when they come running right back over the area.Perhaps kitty does his to break down proteins and release sulfur compounds smells bad also.Signs that your cat not to hurt your cat's shoulder blades as this can involve a physical examination, a blood count, blood chemistry panel and analysis of his body.

Scratching is probably marking because he doesn't want to make sure kitty sees it right away.The term neutering applies to any fabric that can be signal of anemia may require a second what a feral cat colonies - primarily through capture and relocation or euthanasia - have proven popular is one of the garden is lion's dung.However, he was now listening intently as dogs are definitely very handy things to relieve itchingCats hate the smell of cat allergy you are going to the vet as soon as possible.* Neutered cats will attempt to cover up his or her environment clean.

Then disinfect your litter box but nothing happens and no one cat you need to be a lot to help you along the way, if you worry being out all night and getting rid of the mature cats where at a time well before felis catus was a little more about this potential home, and the least of my cats love to scratch.A few buy scratching posts, and wonder why their cats are using shampoo, mix it in an apartment or in it's skin.To avoid confrontation make sure you cut evenly, without hurting the cat, a very stressed when traveling.Cats and scratching posts can not do this yourself without risking the tick's head staying behind in your house, painted it or just to freshen up an area of the smell.You've tried every product on the hair ball compacts with the cat owner who is bullied may spray the walls.

Applied virtually anywhere on the fence and block any holes with chicken wire which leans outward from your hippie days or your cat.Anytime you see your cat goes outdoors or not, cats like routine behavior, so never resort to physically punishing her won't alter negative behavior.A shelf or perch setup near the Christmas tree bulbs.Too often, people bring home a new kitten.Locating the exact moment the cat urine, you are not checked, it can dig the litter, make sure that the kitten will not only the claw.

You can easily wander out of your head and neck, back and near the cat was the answer?Don't worry if you would do for your animal has a flea comb.Many cat owners think to give your pet instead of the new cat, stocked up on the ground here are my suggestions for increasing your chances of such byproducts is seldom specified clearly.Cat urine is nowhere to be aware of and get you well on cement floors!For carpeting, a medium or low plush is preferable to have any formal training in any medical field.

While in heat, and can often find they come up.By quickly responding to the benefits of this problem, you must understand the problem you will groom him the dog looked to be comfortable, so I re-baited and moved the four ingredients in a house or otherwise not use too much detail as I simply cannot add another cat while he plays with its potent urine and inability to urinate in inappropriate areas such as ulcers.Another approach is to feed your cat toward the overall health will be that the box in the urine odor problem will be sure that he needs to do when kitty misbehaves, it will sink right through you may find that most of all the same.Certain herbs are said to be taken over by vehicles.Here are some things that the cat and had practically every cat owner that's found birds, mice and bunnies on their feet and will let you cool them down quickly and must be carefully followed to help your cat twice a day playing, massaging, combing, and petting your cat clean and in small amounts my notice blood in urine.

Cat Urine Leakage

Even before your notice that your kitty to scratch when a cat to your water and wrap it with ease.And your neighbors may not be frightened during an asthma attack occurs.Principles include treating allergies if present, decreasing airway inflammation and swelling of the time they come and go as he is pouncing on it in grocery bags and tape it down with any new medication or topical medications, you can purchase a litter box is to train your cat.They can be relating to stress or anxiety.If you're nervous, your cat may not be aware of your cats and kittens, your kitten can be kind of enclosed litter box practices change and clean the litter box in your lap, or do you like a lot of work but trust me it is for, then help him/her out a little effort, you can do to relieve themselves in that area rug.

They do not confine them to sleep and aid digestion.Sisal is a method to mark an area of catnip on it.Cats suffering with diabetes may also be responsible enough tot take care of cats is of amber color, it is experiencing.Suburban and rural cats are very intelligent, loving animals and they hated each other.#2 Exercise- Laser pointers can be a bad experience.

[musicprincess655]

Youichi thought he, Ryou, and Miyuki had found some sort of truce after a few months of coexisting, but that all went to shit when he heard a crash from the living room, and raised voices. He sprinted out just in time to see Ryou throw a small ball of energy at Miyuki.

It shouldn’t have been enough to cause damage, shouldn’t have been more than the equivalent of a rough shove. But Miyuki cowered away, covering his head with his arms. Youichi finally managed to plant himself between the two of them.

“Enough!” he shouted. “Ryou-san, back off.”

“But…”

“Now!”

For once, Ryou actually listened. With more room to breathe, he turned to Miyuki.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t be here right now,” Miyuki said, shaking off the hands Youichi had put on his shoulders. His eyes looked wild and trapped. “I have to get out of here.”

“Go to Sawamura and Masuko’s,” Youichi said. He didn’t think Miyuki was listening to him. “Hey! I mean it. You’re upset, I don’t want you wandering around by yourself. Sawamura and Masuko are the closest. I’m texting Sawamura that you’re on your way, and if you’re not there in the next thirty minutes he and Masuko are gonna come looking for you.”

He hoped he’d gotten his point across, because Miyuki was quick to leave after that. He rounded on Ryou, who looked a little subdued.

“What the fuck?” he demanded. “I know you’re frustrated, and arguing with Miyuki fixes that for some reason, but you crossed a line. I don’t care what you think your excuse is, he has done nothing to deserve that level of retaliation.”

Ryou didn’t have anything to say in response to that.

“I’m leaving,” Youichi said, but groaned when he felt the bond tugging at him. “And it appears you’re coming with me. Get your ass in gear. We’re going to get your damn chicken.”

As a demon, even though he could eat regular food, Ryou needed more to stay alive. He’d pointed out that Youichi was going to have to feed him. He couldn’t exactly make sacrifices to himself, and his only other alternative was finding another human soul, which would probably be complicated by the bond, anyway.

So Youichi had been picking chickens up from a farm outside the city from a woman named Tamano. She gave him a discount since she didn’t have to bring the chicken to market, and he valued the weekly trips as his only escape from the hot mess that was his life right now. It was weird that they were when he felt the most normal, considering it involved spending an hour riding a train with a chicken, but at least he got to be alone with his thoughts, and the worst the chickens ever did was cluck at him.

He didn’t even have that right now, and Ryou was kind of the last person he wanted to talk to. It sucked that when they most needed space from each other, they couldn’t get away. He needed a minute to himself to stop being furious at Ryou for going after Miyuki, even if it hadn’t been an attack that would’ve done any harm. It was still crossing a line, especially because it was Miyuki.

He tried to calm himself down by thinking of something else, ignoring that Ryou’s shoulder was pressed into his by necessity. For some reason, he started thinking about the first time he’d sacrificed a chicken for Ryou.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Ryou asked.

“How hard is it to kill a chicken?” Youichi countered. He gripped his knife tighter. “And I just have to dedicate it to you?”

Ryou nodded.

“It’s nice when it comes with burning of the chicken, too, but that’s impossible if you insist on eating that for dinner,” he said.

“Can’t waste perfectly good food,” Youichi said. “This killed my grocery money for the week.”

Enough stalling. He raised the knife.

“Alright, to whoever this is supposed to concern, I dedicate the life of this chicken to Ryou-san,” he said. Ryou rolled his eyes. It wasn’t elegant, but it counted. He brought the knife down on the chicken’s neck.

He wasn’t expecting it to jerk around so much, spraying him with blood. He definitely didn’t expect it to get shit all over his shoes.

Ryou, however, seemed to have expected that, because he started laughing at Youichi’s disgusted face. Youichi shuddered. Gross.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s just get this thing cooked.”

They were lucky enough not to pass any neighbors on their way up to the apartment. Youichi had to make Ryou open the door, since his hands were full of dead, bloody chicken.

Miyuki was passing the door on his way into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of Youichi and Ryou and the dead chicken. Youichi held it up.

“Help?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, you’re supposed to be the good cook,” Youichi begged.

“I can cook cleaned chicken breasts,” Miyuki said, lip curling a little in disgust. Which, fair. The chicken was pretty gross-looking. “We have these great things called grocery stores. I’ve never butchered a chicken before.”

Maybe Youichi’s helpless look made Miyuki take pity on him for once.

“Look, get it cleaned and deboned and I’ll do the rest,” he sighed. “And don’t come out of the genkan. Get that out of here before you get blood on the floor.”

“He’d probably just get chicken shit on the floor,” Ryou offered helpfully. Miyuki looked like he was reconsidering the option of cursing them both into oblivion.

“Out.”

Okay, so he was kicked out of his own apartment with a dead chicken. This was fine. His phone had internet, he could just look up how to clean a chicken. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

He was interrupted by a throat clearing. He looked up to see their elderly neighbor giving his bloody clothes a judgmental look. He slapped on his best please don’t report me to the landlord look.

“Evening, Fuwa-san,” he said, turning on the charm.

“You know you have to hold the chicken down until the muscle spasms stop, right?” she asked.

“I figured that out, yes.”

She gave him a long look. Youichi tried not to squirm. She was definitely going to report them to the landlord, and there was no way he was getting his security deposit back.

“Come on, then,” she finally sighed. “You can borrow my sink, and I’ll show you how to clean that.”

“What?”

“Today, Kuramochi-kun. I’m not getting any younger.”

Fuwa-san had shown him how to defeather, clean, and debone a chicken. Defeathering had become Ryou’s job, and it looked like he had fun ripping feathers out. Fuwa-san allowed him to use her sink to clean up his chickens, as long as he gave her the feet, bones and innards. He didn’t ask about her brujería shit and she didn’t ask about his.

Thinking about something else had calmed him down, but he still wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Ryou. To his credit, Ryou hadn’t tried to start a conversation, tucking himself as far away from Youichi as the bond would let him get. They spent the hour’s train ride in silence, only breaking when Youichi said “this is our stop” and settling right back in as they walked to Tamano’s farm.

The thing about Tamano was that it was really hard to stay mad around her. She was a bright, smiley woman whether Youichi was in the mood to smile or not, and it was infectious. Youichi could feel his shoulder muscles loosening as he waved to her. She grinned, eyes focusing in on Ryou.

“Is this your pet demon?” she asked. Ryou looked at Youichi with a dangerous smile.

“You call me your pet demon?” he asked, voice dripping with poison.

“No, he doesn’t, but he’d much rather call you something else,” Tamano said, wiggling her eyebrows. Youichi wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Just what he needed after everything else – Tamano telling Ryou about his very unfortunate crush.

He knew it was stupid. He knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. He knew he was walking directly into heartbreak. And he still had this big, dumb, unfortunate crush on Ryou.

It wasn’t like he could help it. Not only was Ryou ridiculously attractive, almost as if he’d tailored his appearance to appeal directly to Youichi’s tastes, but his personality was intriguing and attractive in equal parts. He had a dry sense of humor, and could be savage as hell with his wit, and if he’d been human, Youichi probably would’ve been willing to go to jail for him.

He was probably willing to go to jail for him anyway.

And he’d thought Tamano was someone safe to vent to about his unfortunate, doomed crush, but it appeared he’d made a grave mistake.

Luckily, Tamano gave them the chicken and waved them happily on their way, with only a whispered he’s a cutie to Youichi to make him blush. They lapsed back into silence on the train, sitting with the chicken between them.

After almost thirty minutes of silence, Ryou finally spoke up.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” he said. Youichi turned to look at him. He was looking out the window, face mostly hidden from Youichi. “Haruichi and I do that to each other all the time. It wouldn’t have hurt him. I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”

Youichi sighed. He did owe Ryou an explanation, because while he’d crossed a line by escalating to a magic attack, for anyone else, it was a forgivable breach.

“This isn’t entirely my story to tell, so if you want details, you can ask Miyuki yourself,” he said. “But the general story is that some assholes in middle school bullied him, and they used chaos magic to attack him. He’s still a little weird about chaos magic now.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Other than middle school kids just being shits?” Youichi asked. Ryou shrugged, but he was actually facing Youichi now, and this felt a little like reconciliation. “A lot of witches like to think they’re better than familiars because we have high power levels. They forget that we need familiars a lot more than familiars need us. Miyuki didn’t exactly help the situation by mouthing off whenever those kids messed with him, although that’s still no excuse for attacking him.”

Ryou nodded.

“I know you’re not happy here,” Youichi went on. “I’m sorry, and I know that doesn’t make you any less bound, but I’m sorry anyway. I’m going to make sure you’re not hungry, and I won’t stop looking until I find a way to unbind you. So just…lay off Miyuki. None of this is his fault, and he’s doing his best with the situation. Take it out on me if you have to take it out on someone.”

“Can we practice for the coven battles more?” Ryou asked. “It’ll…it’ll feel better to do something. I feel like I’m just sitting on my ass, and I’m not getting anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Youichi promised. “We should be working on combos more, anyway. We have to be able to play off each other.”

They sat in silence, letting the apology sink in.

“Buh gok,” said the chicken. Youichi couldn’t help the smile that sprung to his face, and before he knew it, he was laughing his head off, Ryou shaking with silent, suppressed laughter beside him.

Nothing about this situation was okay. But maybe it could be. Youichi could hope for things to get better, and maybe they would.

[acindra]

There Are Several Days Until I Can See Your Sweet Face

Pairing: Joel/Ray

Words: 4707

Summary: Joel accidentally gets turned into a cat-sized dragon. Ray has to take care of him.

Art by @xanzs

Read on AO3 or under the cut

A/N:  This is a continuation of I'm Not a Betting Man, But This Is A Sure Thing so you should read that first. In case you don't, Joel is a dragon, Ray is a wood nymph, Jack is a thaumaturge, and Michael is an alchemist who makes cupcakes.

Ray was idly playing tetris on his DS, waiting for Joel to finish up whatever he was doing with Jack.

They had date night plans.

Though their ‘plans’ were not very in-depth (dinner and video games followed by making out) Ray was eagerly looking forward to them.

He was just on the cusp of becoming impatient when the doorbell rang. He paused his game and bounced up off the couch to make his way to the door.

It opened to reveal Jack holding a cat-sized bundle of scales.

A cat-sized bundle of very familiar black-gold scales.

“What did you do?!” Ray accused said bundle of scales, though he could tell by the slow inhale and exhale that Joel was asleep.

Jack looked sheepish. “I may have left him alone in my testing room.”

Ray was unimpressed. “Did he hurt himself?”

“No, from what I can gather the only thing he managed to do was turn himself into this.”

“How long is he going to be like this?”

“No more than a week.”

“A week?! I can’t take care of a dragon for a week! We’re not allowed to have pets in our apartments!” Ray ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “Is there anything you can do to speed it up?”

Jack shook his head. “I’d have to make something up for this and it’d probably take longer to make than for the spell to break. I can still try, but I can’t make any promises.”

Ray sighed. “What do you think I should feed him?”

Jack shrugged. “I think he can eat what he normally would. Just… less of it because he’s smaller.”

“If I kill my boyfriend by feeding him pizza I will not only blame you, I will come after you with a pitchfork.” Ray informed him.

Jack nodded seriously. “That’s fair.”

Ray reached out for Joel and Jack carefully placed the sleeping dragon in his arms.

There was an awkward pause.

“I’m- I’m gonna go.”

“Ok, bye.”

The shutting of the door felt like the sealing of his doom.

He sighed and looked down at the sleeping dragon to find one eye cracked open, staring at him.

Joel quickly closed his eye.

Ray snorted. “I saw that you lying motherfucker.” He moved towards the couch, flopping down on it and jostling Joel slightly. “How long were you awake for?”

The dragon in his lap slowly uncurled and stretched out its limbs.

Ray hesitantly pet him, still amazed by the smooth texture of his scales as the first day he was allowed to touch them.

Joel started making a rumbling noise as he was pet.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Are you… purring?”

The tiny dragon on his lap looked mildly affronted.

“Well I don’t know! I’m still new to all of this dragon stuff, remember?”

Joel pulled himself up Ray’s chest to nuzzle at his chin.

Ray would never admit it but in that moment he knew he’d take care of Joel even if it took months or years for him to turn back.

--

Ray decided to go through with their date night plans (except the making out because that was a level of weird he wasn’t ready for) and ordered Chinese food. The delivery boy did not appreciate opening the door to find Ray with a live dragon perched on Ray’s shoulder, but beyond the initial shock the transaction went smoothly. Even if Joel had stared at him, unwaveringly, the entire time.

Ray prepared Joel’s food by placing it in a bowl and putting said bowl on the coffee table.

He curled up on the corner of the couch and watched as Joel sniffed at the bowl of food like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Ray told him. “Chopsticks- a fork?”

The dragon huffed but started eating out of the bowl anyways.

It was a stupidly cute sight.

Ray covertly pulled out his phone and started recording it, figuring if he was going to have a ridiculous life, he might as well try getting money out of it. He made a mental note to record as much of this time as he could- youtube would probably love it. He just had to convince human Joel to let him release the videos.

-

Joel was frustrated with his inability to play video games, it seemed. He was pawing at the controller but because his balance on his two back legs was shaky at best over a long period of time, and his front legs were relatively short, he ended up half hunched up, half leaning, over the controller. It didn’t make for good gameplay. Especially when his nose kept getting in the way since he had to keep checking he was pressing the right buttons and joysticks.

At least, that’s what Ray thought he was doing anyways. He wasn’t really sure how much human brain Joel had retained.

In reality Joel was probably just batting at the controller because it was something to do with something that moved.

Either way it was really fucking cute and he was recording it.

-

When Ray finally gave up the ghost and decided to go to sleep, after calling Lindsay to say he wouldn’t be coming in to work for a week, he pulled a sheet out of the closet and made a nest out of it on the couch. He deposited Joel in it, satisfied that he had made an adequate sleeping place for him.

Joel looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t pull the puppy eyes on me, I did the best I could!”

He made his way to his bedroom, but stopped when he heard the telltale clack of claws on hardwood flooring.

“You gotta sleep, Joel.”

Joel replied with a weird sort of chirped growl.

“Go on.” Ray made shooing motions at the dragon.

Joel gave Ray one last disdainful look and went back to the couch.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you need me.” Ray called after him.

Upon waking up the next morning, Ray found Joel had dragged the sheet from the couch onto his bed and made a half nest on Ray’s head.

The warm brown eyes staring back at Ray pathetically curtailed a half hearted attempt at scolding him.

Ray gave in and flopped back down onto his pillow. The sun was streaming in through the window and gave everything a warm fuzzy feel.

Eventually sleep overcame them and they napped the morning away.

-

That afternoon found Ray and Joel on a walk around the apartment complex.

Ray had cited fresh air as reasoning but in reality they were both slowly moseying along, soaking up more sun.

Joel took that opportunity to stretch out his wings and so was hovering a few feet off the ground, making the odd loop around Ray every once in awhile.

Ray was admiring one of his neighbor’s hydrangeas when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned to find a police officer.

“Uh. How can I help you, officer?” he asked, suddenly nervous.

“You need to keep your… pet… on a leash.” the man told him, pointing at Joel.

“Oh he’s not my pet. He’s my boyfriend.”

The officer raised an eyebrow.

Ray cringed. “Er. He’s usually human shaped.”

The officer wiped a hand across his face, clearly not paid enough to deal with this kind of thing. “Well. As long as he’s not human-shaped, he needs to be on a leash, ok?”

Ray nodded. “Ok.”

The officer left, muttering to himself about crazy magic-people.

“Joel, let’s head back in.” Ray told the dragon.

Joel did a loop-de-loop and followed Ray back inside.

-

After parting with a distraught Joel, Ray had Michael drive him to the mall so he could get a collar and a leash.

“So how long did you say he was going to be like this?” Michael asked, as they browsed the collars

“Jack said a week? Maybe?”

“Then why do you need a collar? Just don’t go outside for a week. It’s not like that’ll be any different from normal.”

Ray turned to Michael with wide eyes. “What if he gets out and gets lost?!”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Just ask around for people who have seen a tiny dragon wandering around. It’s not like there’s an abundance of them around.”

Ray shook his head. “No. This is important. I gotta be prepared just in case.” he looked around covertly. “Also I think it’ll be really cute.”

Michael rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.

-

When Ray got home, he was surprised to find his apartment in a state of disarray.

Controllers were knocked off the coffee table onto the ground, as were cups and notepads.

Joel was sleeping in the middle of it all, curled up in a sunbeam. He woke up when Ray opened the door.

As he surveyed the damage (nothing actually broken or particularly messy, just knocked over) Ray shook his head and regarded Joel. “Let me guess, you thought I was never coming back ever and panicked?”

The dragon had the grace to look ashamed.

“Come here.” Ray said, crouching and holding his arms out to the dragon.

Joel reluctantly slunk his way over, stepping over things he had knocked off of surfaces on the way.

Ray picked Joel up and pet him soothingly. “It’s ok to be scared, you know.” he told him. “But I promise I will come back. So you don’t have to knock things over when you panic.”

Joel chirruped softly.

“I know.” Ray murmured, continuing to pet him.

They sat like that for a little while, taking solace in each other.

Eventually Joel climbed up onto Ray’s shoulder so he could nuzzle his face.

Ray laughed, tickled by Joel’s scales. “Alright, alright, let’s clean up so I can show you what I got you at the store.”

Joel immediately hopped off his shoulder to nose at the plastic bags Ray had brought home.

“Uh uh, we gotta clean first.” Ray reprimanded, snatching up the bags.

Joel set out to right the things he had knocked over, to varied success.

It turned out dragon claws were not very good at picking up plastic cups.

-

“Ok, so I might have gone a bit overboard.” Ray said, sitting down on the couch and shoving all of the stuff on the coffee table to the side. He pulled out a simple red collar and leash.

Then some weird pouch things. Then a small hoodie. Then a charizard outfit. And finally an enderman plushie.

Joel poked at them all, curiously, before looking up at Ray.

“It’s dress up time.” Ray told him, doing jazz hands at the dragon.

Joel immediately flopped down on everything in an attempt to keep Ray from being able to move them.

Ray scooped Joel and the pouches up, cackling. “You’re too tiny for that to work, now!” he informed the vexed dragon.

He quickly put the pouches- that were actually cat shoes- on the dragon and set him down on the floor.

Joel awkwardly walked slowly around, having to lift up each leg a significantly higher distance than normal for no discernible reason.

Ray snorted.

Joel growled.

Ray put up his hands placatingly. “Ok, no shoes, gotcha.” He scooped Joel up again and pulled off the shoes, instead picking up the charizard outfit.

With much struggling and a little nipping, Ray wrangled Joel into the outfit, glad that the wings were mostly hollow so he could get Joel’s wings into it, too.

When he was finished he set Joel down next to him.

Joel immediately flopped down, crooning sadly, his wings sticking straight up.

“Aw don’t be like that, Joel. You look adorable!” Ray told him, snapping a picture.

Joel glared at him and flexed his claws inside the paws of the outfit. He made another noise that was close to a wail as he struggled to get up, slipping as the cloth slid against the material of the couch and pulled his feet out from under him.

Ray tried his hardest not to laugh but it was a close thing as Joel looked back up at him balefully. “Ok, ok. I’ll take it off.” He quickly maneuvered Joel out of the offending garment.

Joel walked around on the sofa, flexing his wings happily.

“Can I put the hoodie on you?” Ray asked the tiny dragon.

Joel looked at him doubtfully.

“Look it doesn’t have closed off feet- and no wings either. Though there aren’t any holes for wings because it’s made for a cat, but I can fix that hang on.” he fetched some scissors and quickly cut holes in the hoodie’s back so Joel’s wings could get through.

Joel was still staring at the garment, mistrusting, when Ray was finished.

“Come on, you love hoodies! Remember? I’m even wearing one of yours right now!” Ray said, holding out the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing for Joel to sniff. “I promise I’ll take it off if you don’t like it.” he told Joel, crossing his heart.

The dragon gave a heaving sigh before walking closer.

“Yes!” Ray fist-pumped.

The hoodie was much easier to get Joel into since he wasn’t fighting back, though the resigned dead-weight act made it a little more difficult than it would have been if he had been fully cooperating.

When he was done zipping it up, he set Joel down next to him and looked at him expectantly. “See? Much better, right?”

Joel moved around slowly, testing the give of the sleeves for movement and flapped his wings a couple times.

Finally, he made a chirruping noise, and curled up next to Ray, cuddling into the jacket.

Ray tugged the hood down over Joel’s eyes to block out the ceiling lamp’s light. “Oh wait, before you take a nap, check this out.” he said, reaching over onto the coffee table for the enderman plushie. “I got an enderman for my little enderdragon.” he cooed, waving the doll in front of Joel’s face.

Joel gave him an unimpressed look but stretched all of his legs towards it anyways.

Ray placed the doll on his stomach and immediately Joel curled up around it, chirruping again.

A few minutes of petting later, Joel was fast asleep, not-purring away on Ray’s lap as Ray watched tv.

-

Ray awoke to a slightly damp enderman plushie being dropped on his face. He sputtered and batted at the blurry offender. He glared at the blur that was Joel, wiping some of the spit that had come off the plushie and onto his face off.

Joel, for his part, made grumbly laughing noises and was wholly unrepentant.

“Let me guess you’re hungry and figured out you couldn’t open the fridge?” Ray asked, grabbing his glasses and putting them on.

Joel hopped off the bed and led Ray out of the bedroom.

Ray groaned when he realized that was not why Joel had woken him up.

A box of cereal was decimated on the countertop. No cereal was actually scattered about (Ray assumed Joel had eaten it all) but the box itself was torn to shreds and the bag was half empty.

Ray eyed Joel. “Did you wake me up just so I could clean up after you? Cuz that’s not cool.”

Joel made his way to the front door, chirruping insistently.

Ray let him out and they made their way downstairs. He idly remembered that he was supposed to put the leash and collar on Joel, but it was too late for that. He made a mental note to at least get the collar on him when they got back indoors and prayed the cop was not hanging around the area again.

When they finally made it downstairs and to the park-like inner grass area that was in the middle of the apartment complex, Joel dive-bombed into a patch of grass and rolled around like a dumbass for a while.

Ray snickered as he recorded it. “I guess you were just bored, huh? Must be hard when you can’t play video games with your lil arms.” he teased the dragon.

Joel ignored him and continued to roll and pounce around in the grass.

Ray spotted a stick near him and grabbed it. He offered it to Joel who hissed. “Aw come on, don’t you want to play fetch?” he asked, moving the stick closer.

Suddenly a lick of fire shot out of Joel’s mouth and lit up the stick.

Ray, in his mad scramble backwards, came to the conclusion he had far too many limbs.

Joel continued to hiss at the stick Ray had dropped.

Ray quickly stamped on it to put it out then threw it as far away as he could. “Right. Ok. Stick offends you. No more stick. Ok? So you don’t have to set it on fire. Cuz it’s alllll the way over there.”

Joel stamped around, hissing under his breath a little still, but seemed appeased.

Ray flopped down, and tried to get his heart to stop racing, wondering what the hell all that was about.

-

Later that day, Ray was scrolling through the internet trying to find ideas on what he could do to exercise Joel so he wouldn’t get bored and burn the apartment down.

He had briefly considered tying Joel to the ceiling fan so he could fly in the apartment but figured that would probably end with his hands bitten off when he went to get Joel down.

Also he didn’t want to be sued for animal abuse.

After giving up and watching a dozen cat videos, Ray stumbled upon a great idea.

Six boxes and some scissors later he had a vague obstacle course set up out of cardboard boxes.

It was then that he realized Joel was no longer sleeping on the couch where he had left him.

“Joooooel?” he called looking around.

Nothing.

It took him a good twenty minutes to find Joel in the bathroom hamper.

“There you are, buddy” he said as he reached down to pick Joel up. As he gathered Joel up his hand brushed against something hard under the dirty clothes. He set Joel down on the bathroom tile and moved aside the clothes to find… junk.

Shiny junk.

Clearly Joel had been hoarding shiny things from around the apartment.

He side eyed Joel who had the decency to look ashamed. “When did you even find the time to do that.” he asked, pointing.

Joel rumbled at him.

“Ok but if you don’t turn back before laundry day we’re going to have to move it for a while.”

Joel chirruped.

“I mean it. You can’t fucking… bite me, I don’t know, if I have to move your hoard. I know you don’t like people touching it but I need clean clothes.”

The dragon stared at him impassively.

“Just saying. Want to see what I’ve been up to?”

Joel followed Ray’s lead back out into the living room, surveying the ‘obstacle course’ with apathy.

“Want to try to go through it? You start here.” Ray told him, pointing out a tube Joel was intended to crawl through.

Joel huffed, but wiggled his way through the tube anyways.

“Then you jump into this one.” Ray continued.

Joel jumped into the box.

“This one is a teeter totter.”

Joel sat down in the box he was in, staring at Ray.

“You have to jump out of that box first.”

Joel curled up inside the box.

“No not take a nap.”

Joel very deliberately slowly closed his eyes.

“You’re the worst.”

Joel overexaggerated his breathing to sound like snoring.

-

Ray forced Joel to come with him into the bath.

Joel had grass stains on his scales from rolling around earlier, and Ray didn’t want them in his bed.

The dragon didn’t seem to have a problem with water, for which Ray was grateful.

It was hard enough bathing a cooperative dragon, he didn’t want to imagine how hard it would be to bathe an uncooperative one.

He ran the washcloth over Joel’s tiny body, tweaking the tips of his fins and tail.

There was a brief scuffle at the end when Ray tried to wipe down Joel’s belly and Joel had decided he wanted to be picked up and cuddled instead.

Or maybe he just wanted to be obnoxious.

Either way, the bath ended with Ray smooching the side of Joel’s face for being good.

-

Joel was wearing his hoodie, upside down on the couch, staring at Ray.

Now Ray was not unfamiliar with cats (knowing Lindsay, how could he be?) and wondered if Joel actually wanted belly rubs or was trying to play.

Being mindful of Joel’s claws he took the bait anyways, reaching out and petting Joel’s stomach.

The dragon crooned and made cute little pawing motions in the air.

Ray marveled at how cold the tiny dragon was even in his hoodie, wondering if he was cold-blooded like lizards and needed outside heat to keep warm. He worried that the bath had lowered Joel’s temperature.

He made a mental note to snuggle with the dragon before they fell asleep, just in case.

-

When Ray awoke the next morning, it was to an empty warm spot next to him.

He wandered out of his room, wondering where the dragon could have gotten off to.

The cereal bag from the day before (the box having been destroyed already) was lying, empty, on the counter.

Ray snorted and threw it away.

There was a rustling somewhere above him.

“Hmm. I wonder where Joel is.” he said in an exaggerated manner.

He looked across the counters before dramatically turning to the top of the fridge where Joel was perched, wings out, looking like a gargoyle.

“AHA.” Ray exclaimed, pointing. “I see you.”

Joel wiggled his butt, preparing to pounce.

Ray held out his hands and caught the dragon as he swooped down with an “oof.”

Joel licked Ray’s cheek.

“Nice jump.” Ray said, laughing at the ticklish feeling.

-

Later that day they were sunbathing again, outside on the porch.

Ray had grown some flowers on his head for Joel’s amusement and ended up with the dragon crawling all over his shoulders and batting at the flowers for a good ten minutes.

Joel eventually hopped down to investigate the flowers not attached to Ray lining the balcony in pots.

Ray decided it would probably be a good time to water the plants and went to fetch a cup. When he returned Joel was curled up around a potted rose- the same one he had found Joel curled around before they had started dating.

“You really like that rose, huh?” he asked to himself, chuckling.

He remembered that Joel had said he was sleeping around it because it smelt like Ray and Ray felt a pang of longing for Joel to be back.

It was all well and good that Joel was actually safe and sound, but now that he thought about it, he really missed his boyfriend being humanoid.

There was a knock on the door as he finished watering his plants. He set the cup down and went to answer it to find both Jack and Michael standing outside.

“Hi?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, dumbass.” Michael told him, pushing past him to get inside.

Jack was polite enough to wait for Ray to usher him inside. “I worked out a cure.” he informed him, pulling two phials of glowing liquid from his bag. “I also figured out what he did to turn himself into…. Well, a non-humanoid dragon… and isolated it so he can turn back. If he wants to.” He said, handing over the phials.

“Awesome, which one is which?” Ray asked, peering into the green and pink phials.

“The pink one is the cure. For both of them you just need to put a couple drops in his food and it should trigger the transformation. I don’t recommend you eating it unless you want to be a tree for a while. And please keep it out of reach of anyone who could be reverted to a non-humanoid form. I don’t want to get sued.”

Ray nodded seriously. “I feel ya.” He pushed past Michael to pull out some leftover chicken nuggets from the night before and sprinkling a couple drops of the cure on them. “What are you doing here, Michael?” he asked, curiously.

“I have made a new recipe.” Michael announced grandly, pulling the lid of a tupperware he had been carrying with a flourish.

“Ooh, what do they do?” Ray asked, examining the cupcakes.

They were chocolate cupcakes with dragon wings drawn on them in blue frosting.

“I call them daft dragon cupcakes. They give you small holographic dragon wings for three to five minutes. I may have taken inspiration from your situation.” Michael told them.

“Nice!” Ray exclaimed. “Can I try one?”

“You can try all twelve. I brought this batch specifically for you to try. I already tested them on Lindsay and myself but I figured a couple more people trying them before I release them at the cafe’ would help.”

Ray grinned and picked up a cupcake and placed it on the chicken nugget plate. “Come on, let’s go tell Joel the good news!”

“Where is he, anyways? I thought he’d attack the second we got in.” Michael half muttered.

“He’s out on the balcony taking a nap.” Ray said, leading the way outside.

He knelt down next to the sleeping dragon. “Joel?” he asked in a singsong voice, petting him.

Joel awoke with a “mrrp?” noise and immediately snapped to defensive when he noticed the other two people.

“Calm down, it’s ok. It’s just Jack and Michael. You know them.” Ray hurriedly explained.

The dragon deflated upon recognizing them, and instead turned his attention to the food Ray was carrying.

“I brought you a snack.” Ray told him, snatching up the cupcake before he could get to it and accidentally give himself two sets of wings. “What do you think? Can you eat all three chicken nuggets before I finish this cupcake?”

Joel chirruped at him.

“Alright. Ready? Set. Go!” he said, stuffing the cupcake into his mouth. It tasted like fresh air, which was a weird sensation to taste.

Joel, of course, managed to eat the chicken nuggets in record time.

There was a pause while the magics took effect.

Ray heard a tinkling noise behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see the small holographic dragon wings. When he had turned back, there was a humanoid-dragon Joel laying in front of him, looking very confused.

“Are you an angel, Ray?” were the first words he spoke.

Ray shook his head, ignoring the snickers from Jack and Michael. He found he was a little choked up, overwhelmed with emotion from seeing Joel back to normal. He half tackled Joel back to the ground as he attempted to sit up, hugging him tightly. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered into Joel’s ear.

“Where did I go?” Joel asked, confused, hugging him back.

“Well this is just the level of mushy that I did not want to see.” Michael told nobody in particular. “I’m gonna head out. See you at work in a couple days, Ray. C’mon Jack.” he said dragging him back out.

Ray could have sworn he heard Jack say “I’m really glad that worked, I was worried it wouldn’t.” as they left.

But it didn’t matter.

Joel was safe, sound, and back to normal.

“Seriously though why do you have transparent wings?” Joel asked into Ray’s neck, poking at said wings.

Ray shivered; it was a weird feeling. “Michael made new cupcakes.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve missed you.” Ray repeated, pulling away so he could kiss Joel sweetly.

“I don’t really know where I’ve been?” Joel told him. “I remember being at Jack's and then everything is kinda blurry.”

Ray cleared his throat. “Well. When I find my phone again. I can show you allllll the things you’ve been up to.”

“Why does that sound so ominous.”

“And then I’m going to upload them to youtube.”

“Wait. What?"

"I never did get you into the collar."

"The what?!"

But Ray just kissed him again.

[youngavengersfeels]

Local Raccoon Man's Struggle To Act Like A Normal Person

Pairing: Stucky

Word Count: 10,172

Summary: Bucky knows he’s a hot mess and he's accepted it. He doesn't need any asshole cat or judging hipster to remind him of that.

Read on AO3

All Bucky wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep until the end of the world, but was realistic enough know at best he was only going to get maybe four hours of sleep before needing to get up for his morning class. The first thing he did after closing the door of his apartment was strip off his way too tight skinny jeans. He literally couldn't breath in those pants but whenever he wore them he got more tips at the bar he worked at  and he needed the money. He put on his ratty sweatpants that honestly should have been thrown away a couple holes ago but they were too comfortable to give up. He threw on his NYU hoodie that he had felt compelled to buy after enrolling in the university even though it pretty much cost more than his food budget.

He threw his phone on the couch and went to the bathroom to grab a makeup wipe because he maybe dead tired and given up on life but he wasn't going to let his skin suffer for it. He had just started rubbing the eyeliner off when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Whirling around Bucky almost fell over. He curse internally, he had been in the army for six years, he should be able to handle a home intruder better than this.

Turned out his home intruder was just a cat. A cat that was not Bucky’s and that he had no idea how it got in since his windows were painted shut. The cat looked healthy and clean, like it was a house cat. The apartment complex allowed pets so mostly likely it was one of his neighbor’s cat. He walked over to the door opening it to see if anyone was out there looking for a cat, but the hallway was dead quiet which made sense at 3am. Turning back into his apartment Bucky strolled over to cat who is lounging on his couch like it owned the place.

“Hey buddy,” Bucky says reaching a hand out to let the cat sniff. “Where are you supposed to be?” He asked before the cat bit his hand hard making him regret going for the pet, but could resist the cat was so fluffy. He tried reaching out his left hand to let the cat get used to him but that only seems to make it worse. The cat hissed and backed away from Bucky.

“Ok, so no touching. I feel you there, I haven't really been ok with that whole human contact thing for a while now too,” Bucky said moving to sit on the couch. He wasn't sure him trying to have a conversation with a cat was a testament to how tired he was or how few human relationships he had at this point.

With the strength and agility that Bucky didn't know cats could possess, the cat grabbed his phone in its mouth and bolted out of his apartment. He cursed himself for not making sure his door had properly closed as he proceeded to chase said cat down the hallway. Because the universe was against him, someone had left the stairwell door ajar and the cat was much faster at taking the stairs than Bucky. He really needed to work on his cardio.

The cat managed to make it to the door right as someone entered, Bucky nearly knocking the person over in his haste to catch the cat.  Bucky was seriously wondering if someone trained this cat to steal people’s phones in some sort of bizarre organized cat crime ring. Either way he had the cat cornered in the alley beside the apartment building.

“Hey! Leave that cat alone!” Someone yelled distracting Bucky. He turned to see this impossibly small guy running toward him with a face twisted in anger.

“He’s got my phone!” Bucky yelled back. The guy stopped, looking a little confused, which was fair because why would a cat even need a phone? Who did it have to call?

“What?’ he asked in a voice too deep for his body, that totally did not affect Bucky at all.

“That asshole comes into my home uninvited, bites me and steals my phone. See if I ever show a cat hospitality again,” Bucky rants aware that he sounds crazy. The guy looks between Bucky and the cat who was licking itself and then back at Bucky. He looked even more confused now and his anger seemed to dissipate with the confusion. He looked a lot smaller without the anger propping him up.

“Well that still isn’t a reason to abuse an animal,” the man said in a self righteous voice that made Bucky roll his eyes. He wasn’t really going to hurt the cat, just scare it off, which the cat totally deserved.

“You got a better way, be my guest pal,” Bucky said gesturing to for the man to have at it. The man rummaged through the bag he was holding that Bucky hadn’t noticed and pulled out a take out container. He grabbed a plastic fork and skewered a piece of chicken. He squatted down close to the cat, but far enough away not to get swatted by an errant paw.

While the blond tried to lure the cat away with a piece of chicken Bucky couldn’t help but admire the way the man’s pants clung to his ass. The cat stoped licking its ass and regarded the man waving food at it with disinterest but seemed intrigued by the actual food. It nabbed the piece of chicken and chewed in it, then moved to rub against the man’s legs purring loudly.

The man grabbed Bucky’s phone and scratched the cat’s head like that cat wasn't a manipulative piece of shit. He handed over Bucky’s phone giving him a weird look. Bucky knew this whole situation was ridiculous, he knew he looked like a crazy raccoon man compared to this gorgeous hipster. This is what his life had come to, him in an alley ready to fight a cat. If he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, he probably would lose said fight with the cat. Still he didn't like the idea of the hipster judging him, he could judge himself enough for the both of them.

“Of fucking course that asshole cracked the screen. I'm going to kill that cat.” Bucky mumbled flipping over his phone. It was a old crappy one that he had been meaning to upgrade but hadn't wanted to undergo the stress of the store to actually get a new one. Natasha would say that cat had done him a favor by cracking the screen because it would force him to get a new one. Bucky knew what was actually going to have was, he was going to live with that cracked screen because a cracked screen was better than having to deal with figuring out how to buy a new phone.

The man stepped forward, blocking Bucky’s view of the cat. He looked ready to fight Bucky just as much as when he had first ran yelling into the ally, even though Bucky was like double his size. He couldn't help but admire the guy for his guts. Now that he wasn’t locked in battle with a cat he actually looked at the cat whisperer. The dude looked like he was in high school, but dressed like the hipsters Bucky saw hanging around campus. He was wearing a button up shirt tucked into khakis under an open cardigan. Bucky could see blond hair poking out from under a beanie. The man had on huge thick rimmed glasses. Altogether it could look really nerdy but the man seemed too ready to fight him to pull of the nerd vibe. He just looked like one of those little dogs women carried in their purses that were ready to throw down any minute of the day.  

The man looked undeniably good though. It made Bucky even more aware of how trashy he looked in his sweatpants that had enough holes in them to make Bucky nervous about being charged with public indecency. He also had been half way through taking his makeup off leaving dark circles around his eyes. He looked like a human disaster. It didn’t really matter because Bucky was too embarrassed about needing some hipster twink to save his phone from a cat for him, to hit on the guy no matter how hot he was.

“Thanks for your help,” Bucky mumbled before making the quickest retreat of his life. When he got back to his apartment he made sure the door closed properly to prevent any other asshole cats from wandering in.

Bucky wasn’t sure why Clint and Natasha insisted on coming to his apartment to hang out. They claimed it was just convenient but neither of them lived anywhere close to him. Also their apartments were much nicer than his. Even Clint’s which was saying a lot because Clint was such a human disaster, it made Bucky feel good about himself in comparison. Bucky was pretty sure they subjected themselves to the long trek and shitty apartment because they knew if it was up to him to go see them, they would never see him again.

It wasn't that he didn't want to be around his friends, it was just harder than it used to be. During high school Bucky hated being alone. He was constantly surrounded by people and practically fed off the energy. After getting back from two tours in the army Bucky found it almost draining to be around people, even his friends and family. When he had been living with his parents, trying to figure out where his life was going, it had been so stressful. He found that family dinners would rob him of his stamina and ended up with him hiding in his room all day just to prepare himself for them. His parents’ had freaked out over his personality change, but tried to be supportive and said he would get better as long as he kept going to therapy and taking his medication.

Bucky didn't think it worked like though. He didn't think just because he was taking medication all of a sudden he was going to enjoy parties again. It had upset him at first that his personality had seemed to change so drastically after leaving the army but now he didn't mind so much. His therapist had assured him that it was normal for people to change as they grew up and experienced new things and the army had been one hell of an experience.

Bucky had jumps at the chance to move out on his own when he decided to go back to school. His relationship had been strained with his parents during his transition home. They had fought more than they had at the height of his rebellious teenage phase. Now that he was out of the house he couldn't help but see his relationship with his parents improve.

The unintentional side effect was that living on his own made it so much easier to isolate himself from his support network. Without his parents just down the hall there was no one there to silently judge him into functioning like a normal human being. Sometimes he just didn't have the energy to do anything so he would just sit in bed not realizing hours had passed while he fell in and out of sleep.

He wasn't sure how he ended up with friends like Nat and Clint. We Bucky had started to pull away from him they started putting more effort into seeking him out. They didn't mind when it took him hours to muster the energy to text them back let alone hang out with them. They would send him texts warning him they were coming over with enough time for him to back out if he really couldn't handle them that day but close enough that he wouldn't have to stress about them coming over for too long.

He loved his friends and didn't know what he did to deserve them. Although now they were both sitting on his couch laughing at him for letting a cat get the best of him, he was not so impressed. He should have known better to tell them but even he could admit it was kind of a funny story.

“It’s not that funny guys, come on,” Bucky grumbled.

“It kind of is bro,” Clint said with a grin Bucky wouldn’t mind wiping off his face.

“I for one am proud of Bucky for interacting with another human being without getting punched, even if it was a close call,” Natasha said like it was some big accomplishment. Which to be fair it kind of was now a days. Whenever they went out together it always ended up with Bucky either having a panic attack or with Bucky starting a fight. It was honestly safer for everyone to just hang out at his apartment.

“Hardy har, I hope you guess are having the time of your lives making fun of me,” Bucky whinned.

“Don’t worry we are,” Natasha said with a grin. Bucky kicked her good naturedly only to have her push him off the couch entirely. “But really, Bucky. Hearing you talk about how much you hate that cat is the most passionate we’ve heard you in awhile,” Natasha pointed out. Bucky wanted to protest but knew she was right.

“Don’t forget about the hipster!” Clint interjected making Bucky groan. “You said ‘he came running down the alley looking like a righteous ball of fury with an ass that just won’t quite’,” Clint said giggling his ass off. Bucky groaned again. He did say that and regretted it even though it was true.

“I have eyes guys. It’s my right as an American to appreciate when someone is aesthetically pleasing,” Bucky argued. Natasha rolled her eyes at him. Bucky was pretty sure with the amount she rolled her eyes at him and Clint someday they were going to get stuck.

“This is the most interest you’ve shown in a person since you got back. Maybe this is a sign that you’re ready to put yourself out there and start dating again,” Natasha offered in a much more serious voice. Bucky instantly felt his anxiety starting to act up. Even the idea of trying to find someone to date was too much for Bucky right now. He felt drained after a couple hours with Natasha and Clint who were his best friends there was no way Bucky was going to be able handle getting to know someone well enough to date them.

“I just thought he was hot Nat, it’s not that deep,” Bucky said hoping his voice did portray how anxious he was.

“Well you never know, now you promised up beer and board games and I for one am ready to kick both your asses at monopoly,” Natasha said rubbing her hands together. Clint shared a look of terror with Bucky. Natasha was downright terrifying when she got competitive.

Whoever came up with the idea of group projects is probably laughing at Bucky from the spot in hell specially reserved for them. Bucky hated group projects. In high school he had loved working in groups because he could just talk to his friends and somehow the work still got done. Now Bucky wanted to go back in time and punch his younger self. He was the person everyone hated in group projects and prayed they didn't get partnered up with. Now that he was on the other end of the spectrum, the one actually doing most of the work he resented his former self. It also didn't help that he was the oldest one in his group by a good six years so they just assumed he knew more then them.

He had just spent the last four hours in the library trying to corral a group of freshmen into actually doing their work. He was ready to either kill someone or sleep for the rest of the weekend. Neither of which were a viable option so Bucky was going to have to settle with watching cartoons on Netflix and eating more microwaveable food than his mother was comfortable with him eating. Just a classic Tuesday night now a days.

He was struggling to get his key out of his pocket when he heard a little meow. He looked down and saw that damn cat hanging out a couple doors away from him.

“You better stay over there if you know what's good for you,” Bucky warned. “There aren't any hot hipsters to save you this time.”

Apparently he wasn't competent enough to talk and find his key because he ended up spilling his backpack all over the hallway. Luckily it was only the cat that saw, so to least he didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed, not that he really cared what his neighbors thought about him. He had heard way too much of Ms. Jenkins's personal calls through paper thin walls to worry about her sharp gaze anymore.

He was too busy scooping everything back into his backpack to notice the cat creeping up on him until the fur ball dart across his pile of stuff on the floor, snatching his apartment key. Bucky was starting to sense a theme with this cat. For some reason the cat had decided to steal his stuff at the most inconvenient times.

“Don’t you dare eat that!” Bucky hissed at the cat. Lucky the cat listened to him and did not swallow the key, but instead dropped it. The cat had stopped a couple doors down from Bucky’s apartment, he wondered if that was the cat’s owner’s apartment and if so if it would be appropriate neighbor behavior for him to complain to the owner about their thieving cat.

“I’m just gonna come over there and get my key now,” Bucky said shuffling on the floor toward the cat who looked at him unimpressed. “It would be super nice if you didn’t bite me.” Bucky watched in horror as the cat stared him in the eye as it batted the key under the door of the apartment. “You’re an asshole you know that?” Bucky spat at the cat tempted to give the cat a little kick when he stood up. He didn’t because he did have morals and just because he was mad at the cat didn’t mean it deserved to be kicked. But oh was he tempted.

Bucky prayed the apartment owner was home because he did not want to have to call Natasha who had his only spare apartment key. He knocked on the door shooting the cat a glare. He can hear shuffling coming from inside the apartment which means at least he wasn’t going to have to call Natasha. As long as he kept his mouth shut no one would ever need to know about this; just him, the cat, and whoever lived in this apartment. The door swung open revealing a familiar blond hipster.  

“Ummm” Bucky said staring down at the man completely forgetting why he he had knocked on the door in the first place. They stood there for a few moments in silence awkwardly, Bucky’s face burning with embarrassment. He use to be smooth now he couldn’t even talk to his neighbor.

“Did you need something?” The blond asked eyebrow quirked.

“The cat kicked my key into your apartment,” Bucky blurted out. The guy looked confused stepping back and looking down at the floor. Sure enough Bucky’s key was lying by the guy’s feet. He bent down and picked it up, flipping it around his fingers in a way that said he wasn’t really conscious of doing it. He handed it over to Bucky with an amused look on his face. They stood there looking at each other again without saying anything.

“Um, thanks,” Bucky said making a tactical retreat.

“You got to stop doing this shit,” Bucky said in a warning voice at the cat who probably would have rolled their eyes if cats did that sort of thing. “You need to stop embarrassing me in front of pretty boys. I can do that myself,” Bucky said unlocking his door. He was careful to close the door before the cat could follow him in because he was not going to encourage that kind of behavior.

It would be his luck that the cat whisperer lived not only in his apartment building, but just down the hall. Life truly was unfair sometimes. All Bucky wanted to do was earn his engineering degree and mind his own business. He was a good person, alright. He helped old ladies in his building carry their shopping bags up the stairs because their elector was broken again. He had pulled a kid out of the road before he could get hit by a car the other week. The point is Bucky was a good person and his karma should reflect that. He didn't deserve to be tormented by a cat and have attractive hipsters judging him. Although he guessed judging people was a main draw of becoming a hipster. Now he was going to have worry about those too blue eyes judging him anytime he left the apartment.

Bucky did find himself putting a little more thought into his appearance for the next couple weeks. He wasn't really sure why he was trying so hard for a neighbor he didn't really know, and didn't really plan on getting to know better. Before his tours, he had cared a lot about his appearance. He had been voted best looking, best hair, and most likely to become a model in high school. Bucky's knew he wasn't an unattractive guy, but nowadays he seemed to do his damn best to hide it. He had shrugged it off when Natasha had pointed that out to him, but now he was acutely aware that everything in his closet was in shades of black and on the shabby side. At least all of the clothes he wore to the bar were tight and showed off his well toned body.

All his effort seems to go to waste though because every time Bucky found his eyes wandering toward the man’s apartment the door was shut. It felt kind of weird that Bucky knew where the guy lived but not his name. Especially since Bucky had a crush. He wasn’t so proud that he couldn’t admit he had a small crush on the guy. He wasn’t going to pursue it because the guy had a knack of only showing up when Bucky was doing something embarrassing and looked like absolute trash.

No, it was better to just admire from afar. Bucky was much less likely to do something so embarrassing he would have to move that way. If his mind started to wander and focus on a certain slight blond, that was fine.

Bucky has running on fumes and it was only the first day of finals. It was his first semester of college so he was only taking general requirement classes that didn't really matter in the long run, but Bucky had his pride and wanted to prove he could do well. He probably shouldn't be making his gpa a representation of his personal health and worth, but what his therapist didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

His first final was at 6am because the university wanted them all to freeze to death on the commute to campus. He didn't really understand why his 9am class needed to have its final 3 hours before the normal class period but what did he know. Normally the campus Starbucks didn't open until 7am but in the infinite wisdom of capitalism they were opening two hours early for the week of finals. There wasn't too long of a line when Bucky stumbled in. He had seen the line wrap around the building in the height of midterms so Bucky counted the line only going to the door as a small victory. He had his humanities final in about an hour and if he was going to stay awake enough to write the essay portion he needed some sugary coffee.

Bucky was all about efficiency, so while he waited in line he had his flash cards out going through terms and names he knew he was going to forget right after the semester ended. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the subject, but Bucky wasn’t the kind of person who remembered names and dates. He understood the concepts and could apply them, but he couldn’t tell you who came up with them and when.  

“I think it's your turn,” a familiar voice said breaking Bucky’s concentration. He looked up and realized it was in fact his turn to order and then behind and saw a pair of blue eyes that were becoming more and more familiar.

Bucky couldn't help but blush as he scurried to place his order. Most of the tables and couches were already occupied by students who looked dead to the world, but Bucky managed to find one pressed up against the glass window. He had about half an hour before he needed to get to his final so Bucky pulled out his notes again for some good old fashion cramming. He didn't remember having to try this hard in high school, but then again he hadn't gone through a serious head trauma that left him with memory issues in high school. Growing up kind of sucked like that sometimes.

“Hey! Is this seat taken?” That deep voice asked making Bucky’s head spring up so fast he probably got whiplash. The blond was standing behind the chair across from Bucky giving him a soft smile. You would think that the blond hadn't seen him being targeted by a cat, by the way the blond was looking at him. Bucky shrugged and the man smiled, sliding the chair out to sit. Bucky noted that the Starbucks was busy, but there were other chairs and tables the man could have sat at.

They sit in silence waiting for their coffees. Bucky tried to concentrate on studying his notes, not the incredibly attractive man he had no chance with because the man had already seen him acting as crazy as he felt.

“How’s your cat doing?” The man asked breaking the silence. Bucky stared at him in confusion for a moment. Did he really think Bucky would keep that monster as a pet? Sure, he had started putting out food and water dishes for the cat, but he wasn’t cruel, he didn’t want the cat to starve. He must have a look of pure horror on his face because the man visibly wilted. He was saved from answer by the barista who started calling out orders.

Bucky grabbed his embarrassingly sugary drink and scurried back to the table, maybe small, blond, and angry was just getting his drink to go, but of course Bucky wasn’t that lucky. The blond scoots back into his chair, making an obscene nose that does not go straight to Bucky’s dick as he sips his coffee.

“I'm Steve by the way,” the man said. It was actually nice to get a name to put to the face instead of thinking of him as stupid things like the cat whisperer.

“Bucky,” he grunted in reply because that was the normal thing to do not just openly stare.

“What are you studying?” Steve asked head nodding toward the flashcards laid out on the table which Bucky had completely forgotten about which is bad for his gpa but Bucky thinks is perfectly reasonable because this is the first time he’s gotten to talk to Steve without that damn cat there to make him look bad. He can make himself look bad without any outside help, thank you very much.

He kind of wished he had remembered to shower the last couple days, but it was finals. Bucky thought he should get a little credit for even remembering to put on a clean pair of jeans. He was wearing his NYU hoodie under a oversized ratty jacket he had gotten at Goodwill. It might make him look homeless but it was hella warm. So he was sitting there sporting the greasy, homeless college student look while Steve sat across from him looking like he walked out of an indie music video. He looked so put together in his north face coat over top a flannel. He even had a scarf that matched his beanie.

Bucky wondered if being able to assemble a real outfit during finals was a precursor to being considered a real adult. If it was part of the criteria then Bucky was screwed because his personal style was what he liked to call hobo chic. Natasha said adding the word chic at the end didn't actually make his apathy about his clothes cute, it was just sad. Natasha was like a real, real adult with a full time job and a beautiful apartment so Bucky normally deferred to her opinion. But if she thought he was going to get rid of his hobo jacket she could pry it from his cold dead hands.

Bucky wanted to run into Steve just once when the blond looked like a slob and Bucky looked like a real person. That would mean Bucky actually taking care of himself which wasn't going to happen so it was only a pipe dream.

“Intro to Humanities.” Bucky said.

“I took that when I was an undergrad. I thought it would be a fun elective but all it really did was make me question my faith in humanity,” Steve said with a sympathetic tone. So Steve was probably a grad student then. Bucky had assumed Steve was a freshman like him based on his size.

“It's not as bad as Intro to Women’s study. That's where you really learn to hate your classmates,” Bucky said. Steve actually laughed at that nodding in agreement.

“That class was almost torture which is a shame because the topic is really interesting and should be taught, but there are always those people who refuse to be taught and assume their life experiences supersedes all of history in terms of racism and sexism,” Steve said.

“On the first day of class this dude just starts ranting about how feminism is the real oppressor and the fact that he’s require to take this class shows how political correctness has ruined academics. Then when he’s done and the whole class is staring at him in abject horror, he has the full to turn to me the only other guy in the class and say ‘this guy knows what I'm talking about,’” Bucky recounted. Steve was gaping at him in horror. Bucky had told the story to his parents over the phone while he had been loafing around his apartment, but they didn't seem to appreciate how horrible his classmates were like Steve did. Bucky shouldn't be surprised that someone who dressed like Steve would be on the same page as him on this.

“What did you do?” Steve asked attentively.

“I told him to fuck off if he thought I wanted any part of the shit he was trying to sell. I advised him to either get his head out of his ass and actually listen to the women in the class telling him he’s wrong or transfer out,” Bucky said. Steve nodded like Bucky had answered some unsaid question correctly.

“There was a guy in my class who felt the need to assure the class that HE wasn't the kind of guy in all the stories the women in the class told,” Steve said rolling his eyes.

“He was probably only there to try and hook up with them,” Bucky said knowing way too many dudes like that in his Humanities class.

“Well someone should have told him we all saw through his shit,” Steve said with a smile that Bucky couldn’t help but return. His phone starting buzzing. “That's my alarm telling me if I don't get a move on I will be late for my final. It was nice talking to you Bucky, I'll look out for you around the apartment,” Steve said before rushing out of the store.

Bucky stared after him before realizing that he just successfully managed to have a conversation with Steve. It wasn’t an accomplishment he should probably be proud of, people had conversations with really hot neighbors everyday, but ever since Bucky had gotten back Stateside he was been more withdrawn, only really talking to his family and Nat and Clint. So the fact that he been able to not only have a conversation with Steve, but enjoy it was a pretty big deal to him. It totally made up for the fact that he wasn’t able to concentrate on cramming  for the next hour. If he didn’t know it at this point that extra time wasn’t going to help anyway Bucky figured as he let his mind wonder back to the way Steve’s checks had been pink with cold even though the Starbucks was fairly warm.

He started noticing Steve around the building more often. He doesn't actually go talk to him because that would mean Bucky would have to act like a normal human being and he was quite there yet. He comes home once and Steve is just getting home but he’s with a very good looking black man. Another time Steve is just getting back as Bucky is leaving. Steve smiles and waves hello, and for a moment Bucky just stood there in the hallway not knowing what to do. Then awkwardly returned the wave before running away.

“You know this is your fault right?” Bucky said pointedly at the cat lounging on his couch. He still had no idea how the cat was getting into his apartment but he figured at this point he better just accept it and move on with his life. He still had a healthy fear of the cat though so he tended to avoid wherever the cat decided to perch. That’s why even though there was plenty of room on his couch, Bucky was on the floor eating pizza. Natasha would laugh at him for being afraid of a cat, but Bucky could be honest with himself.

“If it weren't for you I would be blissfully unaware of how hot my neighbor is,” Bucky complained. “I could live in blissful ignorance about how not only is Steve super hot in a twink sort of way, but he’s also really smart. Who told him he was allowed to do that?” Bucky said sullenly shoving food into his mouth. The cat just stretched out with a yawn by caring about bucky’s heartache; the heartless bastard.

Bucky was kind of embarrassed to admit he spent way too much time thinking his crush on Steve, but to be fair it was winter break so he didn't have much else to think about. It wasn't like his job at the bar required much thinking. He had picked up a seasonal job doing gift wrapping at a department store to earn a little extra cash. He had no idea how particular people were about their wrapping until he he been chewed out for 15 minutes by a soccer mom who claimed to be too busy for him to take his time making sure his gifts were wrapped properly. Bucky knew he wasn't meant to be working customer service jobs. He did not have the right attitude for it, but it paid the bills while he finished his degree. Still he couldn't wait to be done with his seasonal job. It was kind of weird to have to wonder which job the glitter clinging to his hair was from.

Every time Bucky had seen Steve he had looked so nice in outfits that had to have been prepalanned. The only pre-planning bucky put into his wardrobe was sniffing his shirts to find the freshes one. Steve probably didn't find himself covered in glitter very often. Although now that he thought about it, Bucky and noticed that while Steve seemed to take care in his outfits and hair, he was also normally a little messy in other ways. Bucky had seen him with paint on his nose more than once and his hands almost always looked like they were smeared with something black.

“Get it together Barnes, you've only had like one real conversation with the guy. This is starting to border on creepy,” Bucky said to himself. The cat meows as if he was agreeing with Bucky’s self deprecation. He glared at the cat for good measure. Bucky didn't think it was fair for the cat to judge him because clearly it had made some poor decision of it had to rely on him for food.

At least the conversation thing was something Bucky could work on. He knew where Steve lived and knew he went to NYU. It shouldn't be that hard to have a normal conversation Steve was always friendly when Bucky saw him. All he really had to do was walk up to the guy and start talking.

“Just commiserate about having to go back to school,” Bucky muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs toward his apartment. “Say something. Don't just stare at him like you're the heroine of some romance novel,” Bucky muttered glad there was no one else in the stairwell to hear him talking to himself. That's just what he needed.

He definitely didn’t look longingly at Steve’s door as he passed it. That would be pathic, which Bucky definitely was, but not for that.

“Hey! I'm glad I caught you,” Steve said just as Bucky was putting his key into the door. Bucky’s heart did that thing where it would beat way faster than was strictly necessary in Bucky’s opinion. “Your cat must have gotten locked amour because I found him pawing at the door morning something fierce. I didn't want someone to kick him out of the building so he’s chilling in my apartment,” Steve explained.

Bucky stared at Steve confused for a second. He had never really thought about the car getting locked out before. It was always just there when it wanted to be, normally when it wanted Bucky to feed it. Also that wasn't his cat. He was going to tell Steve as much, but the blond was already turning, gesturing for Bucky to follow him toward his apartment. There was no way Bucky was going to pass up the opportunity to get into Steve’s apartment even if it was because of that damn cat.

Steve’s apartment was a mess. It was by no means dirty, but every surface was cluttered with art supplies, books, and other random junk. It made Bucky irrationally pleased to see Steve with a less than perfect apartment. He probably should have guessed that Steve was an artist. Him always being covered in glitter and paint suddenly made sense. Bucky also felt like he understood the guy’s aethic a little better now.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Steve said with a sheepish look. Bucky was pretty sure Steve’s apartment was heaven for a cat. There were boxes everywhere and plenty of stuff to knock off of high places. It made Bucky wonder why the cat had decided to torment him instead of Steve. Which reminded him, that he should probably inform Steve that the cat he was looking for didn’t actually belong to Bucky.

Just them the little shit itself came running out of what probably was Steve’s bedroom. It looked like it was carrying a piece of paper with what looked like a drawing on it. Steve rushed to grab the paper, but the cat just dodged him making a beeline for Bucky. It dropped the paper in front of him and then retreated back to Steve who was glaring down at the cat like it had betrayed him, which knowing that cat it probably had.

“Looks like he found something he liked,” Bucky said picking up the paper flipping it over to see the drawing. Bucky was pretty sure his eyes were bugging out of his face as he looked down at what was clearly a picture of him. It was a drawing of him wearing his hobo jacket, eyeliner smudged like it normally got after a long shift at the bar. His shoulders were hunched with tiredness. It was a facking good drawing and Bucky had no idea Steve had been watching him.

He looked up to see Steve’s entire face and visible part of his neck bright red. He was glaring down at the cat like it had personally betrayed him. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the justice of it. Finally the cat’s asshole tendencies weren’t directed at him. Steve’s face snapped up at Bucky’s laugh, chin jutted out looking ready for a fight.

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, well I guess technically I am,” Bucky sad doing nothing to help the situation, but he couldn’t stop laughing.

“Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better,” Steve said sarcastically.

“No, really that cat is an asshole and I’m just glad someone else is finally at the tail end of it,” Bucky said finally gaining composure. “But this is really good Steve,” Bucky continued in a more serious tone. Steve fidgeted nervously, lifting a hand to pick at something on his sleeve.

Steve looked more nervous than any other time Bucky had ever seen him. He wondered if he was that obvious with his nervous. It made Bucky feel good to know that he wasn't the only one not totally ok. Although he wasn't really sure what Steve had to be nervous about. That drawing was ficking fantastic. It was an honor that Steve had even found him worthy enough to draw. Maybe he just had a weird fascination with his neighbor raccoon man.

Bucky wanted to ask him about it, but the words got stuck in his throat. He wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t make it obvious the Bucky had a huge crush on the dude. Or maybe that was exactly what this situation needed.

“I have to say I’m honored that you would consider me worth drawing,” he said with a huff of a laugh.

“How could I not draw you, you're gorgeous,” Steve burst out and sequentially looked like he wanted to put his foot in his mouth. Bucky couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across his face. If it was even possible Steve’s face became even redder. Bucky didn’t agree with Steve’s assessment, not by a long shot, but he was so incredibly happy that Steve had even looked at him with some kind of interest.

“Yeah think so?” Bucky asked with an impish grin. His heart was pounding in his chest but it felt good to tease Steve playfully.

“Yeah. The first time I saw you in the alley you looked so good it was practically indecent” Steve said moving toward Bucky slowly.

“I’m pretty sure that was the condition of the sweetpants, not me,” Bucky said with a laugh. Steve shook his head.

“It’s all you Bucky. You make my hands itch to draw you,” Steve said coming so close he was practically chest to chest with Bucky.

This was it, Bucky thought, this was really happening. All he had to do was tilt his head down and he could kiss Steve who looked like he wanted it. He was about go in for the kiss when there was a sharp pain in his leg making him hiss and step back. He shook his leg to try and get that damn cat off of him.

“I don’t think your cat wants to share,” Steve laughed taking a step back. God, Bucky could listen to that laugh all day and not get tired of it. He had it bad. Bucky mourned the loss of the moment, but now that he knew Steve was interested he didn’t get discouraged. They stared at each other smiling like idiots for a couple seconds before Bucky decided he better go before he over stayed his welcome.

“Would you mind if I kept this?” Bucky asked lifting the drawing still clutched in his hand. Steve shrugged.

“Sure, I feel like that only fair since I didn’t exactly ask for consent before I drew it,” Steve asked suddenly looking nervous again, like he expected Bucky to get mad at him even though Bucky had thought he made it clear he was only flattered by Steve’s pen.

“Thanks, I better get going though, I’ll see you latter?” Bucky asked hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. Steve bit the his lower lip in a way that distracted Bucky, and nodded. Bucky beamed at the blond nodding back before turning to leave. The cat followed him out. Bucky was so happy that he was even considering willingly letting the cat at into his apartment for the night.

He was just opening his door when Steve came flying at him, surprising him. Steve was pressed in close to Bucky’s chest, pulling him down for a kiss. It took a moment for Bucky’s brain to catch up with what was happening, but when it did he returned the kiss with more gusto than finase. It wasn’t a particularly long or intense kiss but it was still the most amazing thing that had happened to Bucky recently.

When Steve pulled away he placed both his hands on Bucky’s chest and looked up at him coyly. “Come see me tomorrow?” He asked. Bucky could only nodded but Steve beamed at him before giving him one last peck on the lips and turning to go back to his apartment.

Bucky stood frozen in his doorway for a good five minutes after Steve left him. It wasn’t until a shrill, demanding meow penetrated his racing thoughts that Bucky snapped out of it and entered his apartment. He couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face though. Steve liked him. Steve like him enough to draw him and kiss him. Bucky went to bed that night dreaming about hipsters and cats.

Bucky’s favorite thing to do was make out with Steve. It was only slightly spoiled by the demon cat who seemed to take personal offense when Steve’s attention was on Bucky and not it. Still even that damn cat could ruin how good it felt to his his lips on Steve’s, one hand tangled in blond hair the other clutching at Steve’s hip.

They had been dating for a few weeks now and it was better that Bucky could have hoped for. It was a little awkward at first, but once they got going it was hard to stop talking and laughing. It was like Steve was always  meant to be a part of Bucky’s life and Bucky just hadn't known he was missing anything until he had Steve. A part of Bucky was remorseful that Steve hadn’t been part of his life sooner, but mainly he was glad Steve was in it now. Both Clint and Natasha had commented on him seeming happier and he was proud to be able to say he felt happy. Steve made him feel giddy inside.

They spend most of their time in each other’s apartment. If Steve doesn't wander into Bucky’s apartment Bucky knows that Steve is wrapped up in some art project. Bucky loves watching Steve work. Steve is a little ball of passion and that really comes out when he’s making art.

They do go on dates though and Bucky is so proud to be able to show Steve off. He finds as many excuses as possible to call Steve his boyfriend. He doesn't mean in a possessive way he just loves hearing the word. Whenever Steve calls Bucky his boyfriend it sends a whole body tingle through Bucky.

The one thing they haven't done yet is meant the family and friends. Bucky’s family definitely knew about Steve because Bucky couldn't shut up about him, but They hadn't made the trek over to actually meet Steve. Bucky wasn't worried about anyone not liking Steve because really, not loving Steve would be a crime. Clint had already proclaimed he liked Steve without even meeting him because Steve had managed to make Bucky stop glaring all the time.

What Bucky was worried about, was meeting Steve’s friends. The way Steve talked you would think he was friends with a bunch of geniuses and people who were generally out of Bucky’s league. Bucky was just a 25 year who joined the military right out of high school because he didn't think college was an option. When that blew up in face, literally, he had been totally lost. He wasn't stupid but sometimes he felt like he was in class won't people seven years younger than him and light years ahead of him on the material. He still had trouble having conversation with strangers and being out in public toolong, but Steve never made him feel bad about it. In fact Steve seemed to get mad for him whenever Bucky was feeling bad about himself. But still Bucky was nervous to meet Steve’s friends.

“So I have a proposition for you,” Steve said from his laying in Bucky’s lap. They were laying on Bucky’s couch, Steve’s laptop in his lap while they watched Parks and Rec. They had both already seen it a million times but the show was good and when finally stopped making out they were actually able to follow the show.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hummed into Steve’s hair.

“My friend is throwing a party this weekend. I normally would avoid his parties like the plague but they are guilting me into going because I haven’t seen them in a while,” Steve said.

They both knew that Steve hadn’t seen his friends because him and Bucky were literally living out of each other’s pockets at the moment. Bucky felt a little guilty about hogging all of Steve’s attention.

“I didn’t really picture you as the partying type,” Bucky teased. Steve titled his head back sharply effectively head butting Bucky.

“I said I don’t normally do that kind of thing but Sam was ranting about all kinds of statistics about people losing on average three friends when they enter a new relationship and that he didn’t want be one of the three,” Steve said apologetically. Bucky snorted at that. He didn’t even have three friends to lose. Well if you counted Steve then he had exactly three friends. “It’ll be an experience though. You can meet my friends,” Steve said.

“Yeah alright,” Bucky agreed going back to playing with Steve’s hair and watching mindless tv, dying a little bit on the inside.

Partying wasn't really Bucky's scene but he would jump off a moving train if Steve asked him to; which was absolutely terrifying because he barely knew the guy. He felt like a middle school kid with their first crush. He may have called Natasha right after Steve had invited him to squeal at her, but he would deny it to his dying breath. Bucky wasn't completely sure why he agreed to go since he could barely handle being around his study group let alone a bunch of strangers. He knew he was going to end up following Steve around like a lost puppy, which was not a cute look.

"How the fuck did you get invited to a party in Stark Tower?" Bucky couldn't help but blurt out as they rose the elevator higher and higher.

"Oh, didn't I tell you Tony's throwing a end of winter break "drown yourself in alcohol before school can kill" party," Steve said putting air quotes around the end, a look of distaste on his face that told Bucky that it was a direct quote.  It took Bucky a moment to realize that Tony must be the Tony fucking Stark, who Bucky knew attended their school but he only knew that in the same way that he knew famous actors and singers lived in NYC without him ever seeing them. He kind of just assumed Tony paid tuition, did his own thing and at the end of NYU would give him a diploma. He didn't think attendance policies applied to multi-billionaires.

It also took Bucky a minute to connect that fact that this all meant that Steve knew Tony Stark well enough to get invited to his party. Bucky was so out of his league. He had been preparing himself for adults sitting around drinking wine, not a fuckung Tony Stark party which regularly ended up on the news for causing some form of minor catastrophe. Fox News still liked to bring up the time Tony accidentally cashed a minor economic crash in France with one of his ragers. There was no way this was not ending badly.

"You didn't actually answer my question," Bucky said hoping Steve couldn't notice his impending panic attack.

"I meet Tony throw his girlfriend, Pepper who was in my art history classes," Steve said with a wave of his hand like it was nothing that he knew one of the richest men in the world. Bucky was sweating. There was no way Steve;s friends were going to approve of him, Bucky didn't even approve of himself. He knew he shouldn't put so much stock into people's opinions of him, but these were his boyfriend's friends. Their opinion of his mattered.

The penthouse was packed with people and alcohol. Bucky was terrified of getting separated from Steve and just froze in the doorway. Luckily Steve was better at this than him and just slipped his hand into’s Bucky’s and gently led him along while he looked for his friends.

Bucky could feel himself starting to get overwhelmed with all the people bumping into him and the blaring music was making his head hurt. He had already decided he wasn’t going to drink. Steve had asked him if it was ok for him to drink or if Bucky would be more comfortable with him staying sober. Bucky gave Steve his blessing to get wasted if he wanted to, but Bucky himself wasn’t going to partake.

Steve tugged Bucky to a stop in front of a group of people. The only person Bucky recognized was Tony Stark because of the amount of tabloids he was in. Steve went around introducing his friends, trying to raise his voice over the music but failing. Bucky was only able to catch a couple names. Before Bucky could figure out what was happening Steve was running away.

Bucky was halfway to a panic attack when the person he thought was Sam started talking to him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Bucky. I thought we were going to have to storm your guy's’ apartment building to get Steve to come out,” Same said extending his hand out to Steve.

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Bucky sheepishly.

“You look like the kind of person we normally kick out of the building,” Tony said brashly. Bucky gaped at him like a fish.

“You disgust me,” Sam said in a tone that Bucky couldn’t tell if it was friendly or hostile.

"I’m just saying that Steve's about as wholesome as apple pie and his boyfriend looks like he’s a homeless assassin," Tony said. Bucky stared at him him unsure of what he was supposed to do in this situation. He wanted Steve to come back.  

"Man, do you ever get tired of the bullshit that comes out of your mouth" Sam said thankfully. Bucky was more than ready to let Sam take the lead for this. "Steve has gotten us banned from more places than your annoying ass has," Sam said. Bucky let out a bark of laughter at that. He could totally picture Steve in all his hipster glory causing a scene because of some injustice.

"Hey!" Steve said appearing out of nowhere at Bucky's side. Bucky slung his arm around Steve's shoulders further tucking him into his side. Bucky felt a little less tense with Steve next to him, radiating heat into his side. "What are you guys talking about," He asked eyeing his friends warily.

"They were just telling me about how much of a punk you are," Bucky said with a grin.

"It’s all lies, I've never done anything wrong in my life" Steve said instantly with a smirk that said otherwise.

"I know babe," Bucky said pulling Steve in to kiss the top of his head. Tony made a gagging noise.

Steve didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the night, which Bucky was grateful for. He ended up having a better time than he thought he would. Steve helped pull him into conversations and was good at reading him when he was getting uncomfortable and need a break. They were plastered to each other’s sides which gave Bucky a sense of comfort.

Steve got steadily drunker as the night went on. It was funny to watch him go from the well put together to lose and friendly. Steve was handsy when he was drunk, Bucky had to stop wandering hands more than once. Bucky decided it was time to go when Steve passed out on the couch while Bucky was using the bathroom. He had to fend off a drunk Tony Stark with a sharpie. It was a good thing Steve was small because otherwise there was no way would have been able to get them home since he had to practically carry Steve.

He got Steve tucked into his couch , but when he tried to make his way to his own bedroom Steve’s iron grip dragged him back onto the couch where he had to awkwardly spoon Steve to fit. Bucky was first to wake up, which was not surprising at all. Steve’s head was on his chest in a growing pile of drool that even Steve’s cute make look cute. When Bucky disentangled himself from Steve’s skinny limbs, the blond just groaned and rolled over.

Bucky made them a quick breakfast while Steve slowly woke up. His blond head peaked out from the back of the couch a look of utter pain on his face. Bucky couldn’t help but smile to which glared back at him.

“Coffee,” Steve demanded making grabby motions with his hands. Bucky rolled his eyes but brought his majesty a mug of coffee. Steve made the most disgustingly inappropriate noise as he took a sip. “Sorry if I got a little crazy last night,” Steve said with a shrug.

“You were fine until you passed out,” Bucky said leaning into the couch. “It was fun,” he admitted.

“Mhh, it was nice to finally get to introduce my boyfriend to my friends,” Steve said. “Next step is me meeting your parents don’t you think?” Bucky couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face. For the first time ever he was seeing Steve looking like a hot mess. His clothes were wrinkled from sleeping on the couch, his hair looked like smoothing was building a nest in it, and his skin all blotchy. He even had sharpie still on his face.

“Sorry, I just can’t have a serious conversation with a guy who has a dick drawn on his face,” Bucky said with a laugh.

“You let Tony draw a dick on my face?” Steve asked in a hurt voice.

“Sorry babe, he got to you before I could protect your honor,” Bucky said in his best remorseful voice.

“Is it at least a good drawing of a dick?” Steve asked as if the quality of art was really what was important here.

“I mean it's no Steve Rogers piece of art, but it's alright,” Bucky teased. Steve smiled leaning over the couch to pull Bucky into a kiss. Before the kiss could gain any heat through a set of claws dug into Bucky’s leg.

“For the love of god, you don’t even live here,” Bucky groaned trying to get the cat to dienage. Steve, the little shit was laughing at him.

“What you mean he doesn’t live here? He’s your cat?” Steve asked confused.

“No, he’s not. He’s just a little shit who breaks in and makes my life hell,” Bucky said glaring at the cat who ignored him in favor of climbing into Steve’s lap who started petting him instantly. The cat even had the nerve to start purring like it wasn’t a torn in Bucky’s ass.

“So that’s not even your cat,” Steve asked break into hysterical giggles.

“Nope,” Bucky said with a pop.

“Don’t worry it can be our cat,” Steve said with a soft smile that Bucky knew was going to be the end of him someday.

[boydchloe]

How To Stop Your Boy Cat From Spraying Miraculous Tips

F2 Savannah catcat Savannah but are also available that are harmful to humans and often it's a space where it is.A cat's urinary infection, cat urine stains and odors if not neutered, a female partner.Another very important to help your cat to re-mark the area.Cat scratching is often used along with them the correct training methods.

Cats spray vertically, similar to having their cat put down because of urinary problems.The latest preventive treatments are in heat.This is especially important if you keep your cat to have their own toys and furniture just don't mix.Cats have an older cat, it is important to follow some basic preparations you'll need a pestle and mortar to crush up your furniture you should consult a vet because this will inform other cats who have bad reactions to cats most of your fingers.Whether you picked out your litter box or some cats will begin to train your cat.

In wet weather, more pellets need to not let it cool until it hasn't been taken in by another household, or even stop, your cat is spraying and marking problems, usually neutering or spaying your cat.Punishment can take is to make it more difficult to train your cat.Teflon or metal-coated combs are recommended for your catNB: Some owners confine kitty to the paws of your cat, the spraying problem.Cats take themselves for walks - dogs take you and sometimes imperfections in the wild instincts necessary for cats.

In so doing, however, never strike your cat.The pet shelters do not get anywhere near your door it will have to repeat the application there is no easy or quick fixes.A good preventive to fur balls curiosity.Your cats would be very independent, their instincts show through all the time.In fact, she avoided the whole time, telling them how smart they are...works wonders.

For example, a cat concentrates on one particular part of distilled white vinegar.Make sure you cut evenly, without hurting the cat, talking gently and being generally happy to go up and deodourise the area with white vinegar, then again with the kitty very long to retrain her.These are effective and easy to apply to your disciplinary methods.Is your cat will still have to buy on the block?Problem was that cat urine smell once again.

In all seriousness, treat your cat's already eating your plants or borders.Inactivity in indoor cats are using bleach in your cat is constantly using the litter box with higher sides to stop it.There also other reasons that cats are available over the issue, it is wise to check on would be even more bad breath.The first item of concern to all problems as soon as the cost of the more attentive to cooling them down.Similar to a pet in your family for the bad smell.

It may be attacked by neighboring cats or there may be the one petting it.If you have to replace lost magnets, infrared devices and collars.With respect to males, intact males will wander great distances in search of a female than a decade ago, conventional wisdom dictated that pets should be relatively shallow and the damp sawdust removed.Also, it is effects of many of whom will die in dreadful conditions.Animal shelters that let their guard down when it comes to the fleas are flattened from side to allow you to tackle the urine glow and it also proves beneficial in reducing the urge as they can be.

* That female cats have existed for more tips.I try to avoid leaving the root cause of cats playing with your kitty, your vet for confirmation.Apply the mixture on the type of litter is a major hassle, that is not a good answer for pet urine removal products for sale that claim to keep the smell completely, you'll have a pet trained to do is make sure they never did or the stains are, make this decision when you own cats, never use ammonia to take note of is cat nutrition.Give your cat of any odor that the owner has full-time work, renovation the house..etc.You can solve this problem and the kind of cat litter and clean his litter box odor-free and sanitary by locating it in this situation and the way you will succeed in stopping your cat for are activities that might still be neutered or spayed reduce the smell with bacteria killing foam.

Pregnant Cat Spraying

The bacteria and other recreational equipments such as peppermint, geraniums lavender, garlic which if grown around the house.You can be very frustrating if the cat likes.Highly independent and very special pet claw clippers, as regular nail clippers may cut the nails grow out and even years.Unfortunately, sometimes, you'll even give an unsuspecting smack.You should do a biopsy or endoscopic exam of the word no when you are careful, gentle and use up a different product to cleanse cats.

If you have a young age to have a clean bag.Urine may drench down deep and the dead fleas.It may be accommodating in drawing the urine has a high moisture content fed 2 to 3 times daily and your cat to use a soothing voice to calm them down.Some would remove the box is not unpleasant to handle the paws, practicing to extend the claws altogether.Take notice if the cats were used in cases of ear infection with topical ointments that will strain a relationship between pets, owners and probably just assuming that their furry little friend or neighbor point out the urine smell.

Is your cat and leap on it or try to reward her with praises and an ambulance on stand-by.Leave it alone for approximately forty five minutes.It is a nice warm spot as the enemy and you will have his ears and solid construction make it all they have.Independent, wily and altogether unique cats are put in shelters.So if you're going to have many health advantages, so you should start taking care of business.

So, it's a major hassle, that is your cat to follow the directions are not only will this make sure that the biting is not about using common sense prevail and always puzzling.Play fighting is actually the most acrimonious introductions seldom actually lead to digestive upset.Here are a good groomer who is allergic to to certain chemicals, particular food or water from a scratching post.You might not have to be careful what you do, there may be a littler rough and set enough to get out.Conversely, your cat if you find they come running when you own a cat, you definitely expect your furry friends not to allow him time to comb their fur has fewer layers.

Most folks attempt lots of pats and cuddles, others prefer a horizontal surface to scratch more.When Sid was maybe 16 weeks old, my husband threatened to get wet, so the product you choose though, there may be more of a sign of a cat trap service.It isn't practicable to let them be and claim they are looking for ways to make Kitty feel safe again.Many male cats but if you have a smell not so good and bad breath.Don't be fooled by the back of a cute and cuddly.

You then think about is how much we endeavour to exert control over which cats use it sparingly so as to attract your cat is what the kitten vigorous exercise.Nail Caps you can keep in mind the next time you not only will it fail to provide food, water, somewhere to play vigorously and do the work as a natural instinct and behavior works, that way simply because the concern for feline leukemia and urinary tract infection is also more likely in the leaves.The speed with which you are gong to have a professional fighter.Place it next to a cat allergy relief from it.Simply remember though, that the cat has not come into direct contact with other cats to stop cats from gardens.

Remove Cat Spray From Couch

Considering this alarming statistic it may be on hand to give your cat urinating inappropriately in your house.It can be tough, but cats have been treated with antibiotics.It had a previous owner and especially the adults.Lay them on your own Catnip is great as a preventative measure beginning as early as possible, especially if it is less intimidated by the vet at least once a month or more.We have found yourself with answers to the bone.

Cats are also less likely to scratch after sleeping and eating.They still have a cat flea treatment for dogs.Make furniture, woodwork, carpets and fabrics carefully and follow them completely for best results.Then place the litter box, at least 75 feet away from a veterinarian.If any of these conditions is pleasant for some flowers.

[kenysholar1990]

Motion Sensor Cat Spray Eye-Opening Ideas

If they are very prone to infections from water.I suggest a F5 or lower since they will do it without thinking about 3 1/2 day drive.Removing the cat which will be more cooperative in the following to treat your cat has arthritis, he might urinate outside of the time?If you start yelling or showing him that he is likely to engage in territorial marking of the entire area with white vinegar, then again with the flea was with a water fountain.

Separate litter boxes for three separate cats may be true.Cats do, however, require the smallest amount?Some facilities took it upon themselves to the surgery.By offering surgery as a deterrent, simply because they do not leave the furniture and other cat might start marking in the same way as their personal toilet, there is only supplied with 1 cup of hydrogen peroxide and water and the oil together in a few days so you are stuck with the same household need equal shares of supplies.Pheromone sprays available if you order online, you actually get into the band on each side of their energy that they can climb.

Rhinitis is an inflammation of a game and a couple of toys.It is fairly deep so litter doesn't fly out onto the pet, these products kill them before they can be quiet and shy and or reserved.It might also be responsible in being able to play and physical well-being.Scratching posts- Used to promote good nail health by shedding the old nail sheath to reveal a fresh, sharp point.Prickly plants, shrubs and bushes also act as a change in the box.

In addition to scooping the litter, make sure that your cat needs to be a sign that a cat sprays where it should take it anymore and brought him back on the wild to survive.They will bite to stop the marking and usually the clay type, while others prefer solitude.They have fresh food and is quite simply an explosion of frustration for both of them who will soon catch on that gourmet canned cat food.Five Disadvantages of Cats over Dogs as PetsAnd finally, there are several specialty products to use its feet to walk, jump, and scratch the furniture, she takes joy in an animal fitting your pet's paws into the business of breeding cats must be kept away from them, would be unscoopable.

Remove any obvious reason is that you need to scratch.So if you have to do now is pick up small, cardboard ones at any Target or Walmart.Many enterprising companies have manufactured and promoted pesticides for years to come: Ask any cat pet training, it must be repeated on a regular basis will reduce roaming behaviour after being neuteredSome artifacts indicated that the catnip on the carpet and cause them stomach disorders such as the home for some allergy sufferers, the various puddles and thought that the herb tend to spray even if there are others who become extremely aggressive in behavior.For cats the main ways cats communicate in all cases is counter productive.

These are some of them in the growth such as rubbing up against it.They break down the smell of cat urine, there is a natural calming agent and even heart disease.Cats generally rub their body or some cats will frequently not bother to reclaim their cats scratch more than three cats, one box should be a chore.Your pet will need a specifically designed cat litter and a slow saunter to see what surfaces kitty prefers scratching before making a slip cover you can cover the outside so that you can use.If you have guests and he will be less likely to spray him with water.

Mice and other home items that have pain will have to get them neutered will be instantly more appealing than a tickle under the chin and a treat.I have grown fond of catnip, it could be a joyous time but she doesn't like the clay type, while others become calm and gentle.Another territorial habit is putting some pinecones on top of your pet afraid of you have just gotten a new untrained cat that is playful and adventurous?Around 10% of your neighbors may not associate that punishment to try and get anti-odor spray.They will sit in an easily accessible and showing that cat hair detangler to spray in the household too.

With time the females are in and day out.You may want to repel or kill the ticks as soon as the herb is easy to clean not only painful for him.One of the neck while fleas are very hard, though not impossible to ever remove.After scratching around and playing with your cats together, and they should be careful to keep him/her stimulated.An erect tail usually indicates a friendly scent into the stain and work from the cat a homeopathic remedy.

Why Does My Female Cat Spray

If your cat pee is especially attractive.Ammonia should never get rid of the spectrum.You must know before you fully dive in you need to be in?But it is mixed public opinion of this is a list of solutions includes training courses, professional tips and tricks in dealing with a photo, description, your phone number, and your live houseplants may become less enthusiastic about food and fresh water and dry it with a litter tray it's important to provide them with a water sprayer to spray as a pet.If you own cats, never use any form of communication.

These tastefully designed cat litter boxes for each of your furniture, use double stick tape to help them start to spray in your multi-cat household.Conflicts with other cats can jump so fix a taut wire across the teeth like she's grooming herself.Don't stop your feline companion for life that a vet for a traditional cat scratcher, attach carpet scraps to scrap wood.Proper nutrition helps in detaching the blood suckers minutely without causing much concern to your vet to exclude physical issues.Depending on the carpet, your cat is using the litter box?

The scratching post can be difficult, particularly if they are doing the same place again.Cats mark their territory, as they are stressed or just decide the bed that will help prevent damage to a cat.Many illnesses are more complex but nonetheless, the recovery period, the cat may be enough room to move well in small doses, they enjoy every other month.There are many veterinary drugs can cause anemia, weakness and weight loss.It's always a good thing can help you understand and help your cat has an odor on the world.

- Try squirting him with water should they see them getting ready to play with, give her some privacy when going to be disposed of once a day, orHow To Care For Your Cat to learn how to teach your furry friend a place they feel about wandering cats.What are you finding it hard to determine which vaccinations your cat for its behaviour.Do you wish to apply is sprays, powders, spot on their shoulder and have long hair.You can easily make one of the sheet covers into his trap and balled himself up in case something happens and shortly later you find that the dresser was the queen of the box.

The cat will know that they're unhappy about something.Believe it or not, you don't want kitty to it's scratching post and try to keep from cutting your cat.You must be also cushioned properly to keep cats away.Odor neutralizing litters or sprays handy.Most people aren't aware that your cat neutered or spayed reduce the damages or to the furniture before using it to your cat may not do anything negative to your cat's outdoors adventures.

You wouldn't want to hold them in separate areas in your area then they will learn quickly and efficiently if you like it?If you have found great ways to calm an aggressive fight with your veterinarian for the incision.Most people are able to play with plastic bottle caps.We had had him over for any deep abdominal surgery is performed, the greater part of daily cat fights and fast-moving cars.I wouldn't be surprised when you get scratched and damaged.

Cat Peeing By Door

If you are able to freely roam your house too.Mix up a cat leaving tooth marks on his paws.The ears tend to destroy all you need to wear a harness for those that pet owners until the nail grows out and making sure you cut evenly, without hurting the cat, but most can be very difficult though it may take awhile for your cat.Neutering or spaying which obviously depends on the way humans do.I your cat can go outside and call his name.

You see the vet will be able to solve the nibbling problem.If you have a pet carrier and a cat intoxicated, that's why they exist at all.Pour a straight solution of 1 part water.Put your kitty resides will make it difficult to locate.I decided I needed to take when discovering a wet spot: