#clean fur ca

[gourdlycatgen]

The outcasted traveling loner named Coyote is a ginger afab genderflux cat with a smoky coat and high white spotting. The pronouns this cat uses are none. This cat has medium, clean fur and pale yellow eyes. This cat loves tracking, and likes storms. The cat is happy-go-lucky and brash. The cat is super good at giving gifts. This cat has few scars and a fat body.

[edwardslowell]

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[doctorbeth]

Mimming from Singapore

A couple months ago I received an email from Mimming's person in Singapore. Mimming is an almost 40 year old teddy bear, and she's been very well loved... and hugged.

This is what Mimming looked like when she was young:

And this is what she looked like at the start of 2023:

As you can see, she lost a lot of weight and fur from hugs over the years. Her eyes have cataracts (you'll see those better later), her nose is dangling due to muzzle shrinkage, and she has some pretty significant wounds she usually keeps under her shirt. But she's still a very cuddly bear with an endearing expression.

Her person was hoping to get Mimming recovered in new fur, so she could be hugged and have adventures for at least 40 more years. A new nose and new eyes were under consideration, and we agreed starting with a spa (especially since her stuffing was so compressed, was probably in order. So... Mimming found a flight with her buddy Little Mimming to keep her company (you'll see her later) and headed across the Pacific to CA. While Mimming is well travelled, this was a first solo Pacific flight, and so it was bit scary, hence the company. It actually took less than a week for her to arrive!

She started with her bubble bath, that way new fur would match her cleaned fur color.

You can see her cataracts, particularly in her right eye, and how loose and chipped her nose is here.

Next was deciding if she would get a new nose and eyes, or keep her originals. Turns out, there were many nose options. Smooth like nose, flocked/velvety, size differences:

Her person opted for a new, velvety, triangular nose. For her eyes, there was really only one option, new or not. I can usually get pretty good color matches, but Mimming's eyes had also faded, so new eyes would be a touch brighter. Once eyes or a nose come out, they can't go back in, and with recovering it's best to remove them before recovering, so this was a decision that needed to be made before fur choice. Here's the eye option next to her original eye:

Mimming's person opted for two new eyes. We agreed to preserve her old eyes and nose in her heart with a bit of her stuffing. But first, she needed new fur. Here were some of the white fur options:

Mimming's person went with the thick white faux fur, and surgery proceeded. For her brown patch, I had furs to match all of the white fur options, so we were all set there.

Here's her heart being made and installed:

And here are the first photos of Mimming in all new fur. She still has open seams, so her chubbiness can be adjusted:

While she sits naturally like in her baby photos, she can also lay flat like she could when she arrived. Chubbiness approved, Mimming got dressed and went outside for a photo shoot. She was well traveled, but had never been to California, and she wanted some photos as souvenirs. Little Mimming joined her for the photo shoot (those were the first tulips of the season):

And those adorable knitted overalls? Those are Mimming's regular travel clothes that she arrived in. Good thing that knit stretches. I particularly liked the little teddy bear buttons to hold the straps.

Mimming and Little Mimming flew home and again, it was a fast trip, just 5 days! Here they are safe and sound, albeit a little jet lagged, with their friends:

Her person wrote:

Thank you so much!! She looks amazing! We are so happy we got to spend the rest of our lifetime with her - another 40+ years!! Thank you Doctor Beth for taking great care of her. You’re such a blessing to all of us! Praying for your good health and good life. Stay happy and blessed!

[asa-do-your-thing]

Faileas

18+ MINORS DNI Cregan Stark x F!Reader 5.6k Warnings: SMUT, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions forced marriage, dom / sub dynamics as always no proofreading no nothing

Hi guys! you wished for some Cregan action, here you go, some wintery woodsy and very sexy scenes for you <3

The eerie silence of the snow-covered forest was suddenly shattered by a loud thump, jolting you out of your sleep. The sound echoed through the thick trees, sending shivers down your spine. You knew that snow never fell silently, but this was no gentle snowfall.

Someone or something had disturbed the peacefulness of the night.

Hastily pulling on your fur-lined boots and throwing on your warm cape, you grabbed your trusty ax, ready to defend yourself against any unwelcome visitors. The only light came from the full moon, casting elongated shadows across the ground. Your heart raced as you crept towards the door, unsure of what awaited you outside in the frigid darkness. Whoever was lurking around at this hour was most likely not a friendly soul.

Breathing deeply, you pushed open the door just a sliver to peer outside. The sight that met your eyes was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The snow lay pristine and untouched, beautifully illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Each tree stood tall and heavy under its snowy blanket, the crystals shimmering with infinite variations of blue and silver under the celestial light.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught your attention. It was far off in the distance but distinct against the untouched snowscape. Fear surged through your veins, but courage stemmed from your noble upbringing spurred you on. As you stepped out into the winter night, the crisp air stung your face and the snow crunched under your boots. Your fingers tightened around the handle of your ax, its familiar weight offering some measure of comfort.

As you trudged deeper into the forest, it became clear that you were not alone. Footprints imprinted on the previously untouched surface told a tale of stealth and intention. A creature of some sort had indeed passed this way, disturbing the tranquility of your sanctuary.

You had sought solace in this barren place to offer your prayers. A giant Weirwood tree stood beside your modest dwelling, and you made offerings to it every day, seeking guidance. Your parents, who ruled House Knott, were determined to marry you off to an elderly Lord from the Stormlands. Desperate for someone to intervene, anyone at all, you turned to this sacred spot for help, but as it seemed, you were not entirely safe here.

Through gaps in the trees where moonlight penetrated, you saw it; a figure, cloaked in darkness paused momentarily at a clearing futher down. Its silhouette was hunched over as if peering at something in the snow.

Silently, like a wolf stalking its prey, you advanced cautiously towards it. Your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum as each breath became shallow and measured under stress. As you moved closer, an unexpected gust of wind swept through the trees making them groan under their icy load.

Spooked by the sudden noise, you gripped your axe tighter and lifted it up high, expecting the figure - a man in a cloak with fur over his shoulders - to jump up and attack you as soon as he thought you had let your guard down. He was most likely a poacher, trying to hunt down a skinny rabbit or a winter fowl.

“Poaching will get you hanged. Know that you are on the lands of House Knott and I shall bring you to the Lord if I catch you stealing from us,” you said calmly, your ax hanging over the man’s head. “And if you wish to attack me, I’ll lob your head off clean.”

The man quickly turned to face you, his eyes wide with surprise. He rose slowly, hands lifted in a placating manner. The man was tall, towering over you, and the moonlight revealed a wild shock of black hair and stormy grey eyes that seemed to carry a certain depth of experience and wisdom. There was something captivating about the way he looked at you, an intensity coupled with an unexpected warmth that was unlike any stranger you've encountered before.

“Easy there, m’lady,” he said, his voice resonating in the windless night. He cocked a small grin, his teeth white against his rugged features. His northern accent only added to his charm. “I’m no poacher, nor do I seek to harm you or rob your lands. I’m merely looking for shelter.”

His cloak billowed as he moved away from you towards a loneset tree nearby. In the dim light, you noticed a direwolf sigil stitched onto his cloak - the sigil of House Stark. An unexpected chill ran down your spine as realization hit.

"Lord Cregan Stark?" You questioned aloud, disbelief tinting your voice.

The man - Lord Stark - turned back to face you, giving a small nod as he surrendered jokingly with a chuckle. “Indeed," he confirmed in amusement, "Didn’t mean to startle you.”

A thousand questions danced in your mind as your grip on the axe loosened but did not let go completely. The Warden of the North standing before you in your family’s sanctuary in the Woods was something straight out of legends and ballads sung by minstrels at feasts.

“I… I can give you shelter, my Lord. Though it is only a small hut… It surely won’t live up to your expectations,” You mumbled and courtsied, trying to suppress the blush that formed on your cheeks.

Your mother has told you about Lord Stark, but seeing him there, in the moonlight, made you doubt her words. He was strikingly handsome, not at all boorish and violent like she had told you.

“Though, my Lord, if I may be so bold, I would’ve appreciated it greatly if you would have just knocked. I was prepared to hack you to pieces.”

Lord Cregan eyed you over. “Your hut? Are you Lady Knott? I thought she was an old hag, sitting and scheming around in her Keep. You’re decidedly younger and prettier.”

Approaching you slowly, he laid his large, gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. “If you aren’t Lady Knott, then what are you doing here, in the Knott’s Weirwood grove?”

You narrowed your eyes, straightening your posture as you met his gaze. "I am Lady Knott...the younger one," you clarified, feeling the corners of your mouth quirk up in a small smile.

"You might be confusing me with my mother." You watched as the hint of surprise crossed his features before transforming into an appreciative chuckle.

"Well then, that would explain the confusion," Lord Cregan replied, leaning against the tree he had been approaching earlier. He looked at you with renewed interest. "And as for knocking, I thought no one would be occupying this place at this hour. A slight miscalculation on my part."

Your smile widened as you stepped forward, crossing your arms over your chest. "Next time, my lord, take the time to knock. Or better yet, send a raven ahead of time."

His laughter echoed through the grove, a rich and deep sound that resonated within you. "Noted, Lady Knott."

Looking back at him composedly, you added: "But if you're still suspicious of me, Lord Stark, then by all means go back into the forest and sleep there..."

Lord Cregan raised an eyebrow at you. His eyes danced with a playful gleam under the moon's glow. There was a moment of tense silence before he let out another hearty laugh that vibrated through the grove.

"I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to turn away from such generous hospitality,” he answered warmly.

His words filled you with warmth even against the cold wind. He was not what your mother had made him out to be; he was far from it.

"Speaking of hospitality, my lord, would you care to step inside the hut?" you asked, tilting your head towards the entrance of the small dwelling. "I promise I won't hack you to pieces. At least, not tonight."

Once more, his laughter echoed through the trees, creating a symphony with the rustling leaves and nocturnal sounds.

"Lead the way, Lady Knott," Lord Cregan instructed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he followed you into the hut. Inside was an array of family relics; old books, carefully crafted tapestries depicting ancient tales from their lands, and one prominent weirwood table where you had been preparing for your moonlit prayers.

You began to explain yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting as you gestured around the sacred space. "I come here often,” you admitted. "A little strange perhaps, for a young noble lady to find solace in such a... rudimentary place. But I find it peaceful."

Lord Cregan's eyes roamed over your treasured sanctum with evident respect. "And tonight?" he asked, glancing back at you as he leaned against one of your stack of books.

A sigh escaped your lips as you braced yourself to confide in this stranger who felt oddly trustworthy. "Tonight... Tonight I came here to pray against my marriage," your voice wavered toward the end.

His brows furrowed curiously and he inclined his head slightly sideways in question. "Against?"

"My parents have arranged my marriage," you clarified hastily. An uneasy laugh escaped your lips as tried to lighten up your confession. "To a sixty year old widower. A Lord from the Stormlands. Lord Symon Dondarrion, they said.”

Shrugging quickly, you put another piece of wood into the hearth and watched the embers reddening. Why were you rambling so? Lord Stark probably did not care.

His silence was unsettling. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he finally broke it with a soft, "I see." His gaze softened, empathy seeping through his glacial eyes as he watched the dancing flames of the hearth reflect in yours.

“And what does the young Lady wish for?" Lord Cregan asked, taking hesitant steps towards you. His sturdy voice echoed in the tight confines of the hut.

Despite his status as a powerful lord, he appeared genuinely interested. You drew in a shaky breath before managing to voice your deepest desire out loud. "To stay in the North," you answered honestly. "To stay where I have grown up, not having to go to… well, almost Dorne. And not having to marry an old man…."

A thoughtful silence fell between you both. Outside, the wind had picked up and was causing the leaves to rustle and twigs to snap under its force. Stark's gaze drifted towards one of your family small tapestries, where large, rugged old men sat next to sour-faced women, wolves and bears at their feet.

"In Winterfell," he began turning his steady gaze back to you, “we have a saying: ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’. At times, alliances made are for survival not just for one individual, but for their kin and their people."

He paused for a moment and sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his head with his gloved hand, before taking it off. The warmth was catching up to him, it seemed. The seriousness faded from his face and he offered you a small smile. "But it doesn't mean that it has to be so bleak.”

The warm fires of the hearth flickered across his rugged features as he stepped closer to you. You could feel your heart drumming louder in your chest as he neared.

"For now, you’re here in the North. Isn’t that… good?”, he said, seemingly trying to cheer you up.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you stumbled out of your sodden boots and removed your drenched cloak. It was only then that you realized the inappropriateness of your attire for hosting the esteemed Warden of the North. The topic of your impending marriage also felt uncomfortable to discuss with him.

"Um, yes...I suppose so," you stammered, at a loss for words.

"But...that's not really important right now." Your awkwardness only seemed to grow in his intimidating presence. “If I may be so bold, what were you doing here, north of the Wolfswood, without any guards?”

The corners of Lord Cregan's mouth twitched ever so slightly, as if he was amused by your audacious question. He stood from the stack of books and began pacing the hut, each step measured and silent. "You have a keen sense for observation, Lady Knott," he began, the moonlight streaming through the window to highlight his stern profile.

He paused, leaning against the old ironwood table, his fingers gently brushing over a worn out book that lay there. "In all honesty," he admitted, not looking directly at you, but at the memorabilia scattered across the space. "I'm here on kind of...a pilgrimage."

"A pilgrimage?" you echoed, brows furrowing in confusion. You weren't sure what you expected, but that was certainly not it.

"Yes," he answered simply, before turning to face you properly. His eyes glowed with a certain intensity that made your heart flutter. "In my early youth, I often wandered these woods; it gave me a sense of calm that nothing else could."

"Even though Winterfell is known for its peace and tranquility?" you couldn’t help but jest lightly.

A deep chuckle echoed through the room as Lord Cregan nodded in amusement. "Even then," he confirmed. "Sometimes even the peaceful walls of Winterfell can feel suffocating."

You couldn't help but relate to his confession; even amongst your own family and kinfolk, there were times when you felt bereft of inner peace. It was one of the reasons why you often sought refuge in this secluded hut.

Lord Cregan sought your gaze again, the playful light replaced with a slightly darker one, although not completely sinister. “I think that the Gods have answed both of our prayers, though.”

Sitting down onto your bed, you offered him your chair and gestured towards a large bottle of wine, wordlessly inviting him to pour himself some, if he wished to. “My Lord?”, you asked, not quite knowing what he meant, cocking your head to the side.

Sitting down with a sly smile, he shrugged. “Well, I’m looking for a wife that is not a simpering flower. You’re looking for a strong, young, northern Lord. Or am I wrong, Lady Knott?”

His words hung in the air, creating an electric tension that you could physically feel. The preposterousness of his proposition was too absurd to believe, and yet his confident demeanor suggested he was entirely serious. You hesitated, eyeing him cautiously as if expecting him to erupt into a fit of laughter, revealing it to be a cruel jest. But the man before you remained grave and composed.

The silence stretched out between you like a yawning chasm. His question echoed in your mind, circling around like an insistent buzz. A desperate urge bubbled within you to provide a witty response, anything to alleviate the suffocating heaviness, but words failed to formulate.

Your mouth went dry as dust and for a moment, you worried that you had lost the ability to speak. All you could manage was a weak whisper of "What?" that surely Lord Cregan didn't even hear.

To your surprise, he didn't repeat himself or elaborate on his shocking proposal. Instead, he simply leaned back into his chair and studied you intently as he took a slow sip of the wine you offered him earlier.

A long moment passed before he finally broke the silence, a faint smile gracing his lips. "It's late," he stated simply, standing up from his chair and setting down his cup. You blinked at him in surprise, suddenly realizing how true his words were. The hourglass on your desk indicated that it was way past the hour of the bat.

Lord Cregan made his way towards you, his every movement graceful and measured. He paused, sliding his cloak off, quickly and gently holding your chin in his large hands, making you look up at him. “Tell me if you oppose this. Say the words and I will leave.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze bore into yours. The fiery intensity, the sheer command in his eyes was insurmountable. His words, though spoken softly, echoed thunderously in your ears. You had always considered yourself a strong-willed woman, not easily swayed by men and their games. But at this moment, looking up at him, you felt a strange fluttering sensation inside you.

The silence extended between you both like a spectral hand reaching out. His statement hung in the chilled air of the room, as if it were suspended on invisible threads. Your heart pounded in the hollow of your chest like a war drum echoing in an empty battlefield.

"Oppose what?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely above a whisper. You held his gaze, your mind racing to comprehend his proposal. Was he suggesting... matrimony? Surely not. The mere suggestion was preposterous.

Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell would never consider someone like you for a wife... would he?

He held your gaze steadily, yet there was a deep gentleness in his eyes that seemed to melt away the icy chill of the room. "Our union," he said simply, his voice quiet yet full of gravity. You blinked up at him incredulously.

Although his words were laced with an undeniable seriousness, you couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the absurdity of it all. "You are jesting." Your words came out as more of a statement than a question.

But the Warden of the North merely shook his head slightly, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you suggesting that I am a fool?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “Of course not! It’s just… how? How will you tell my parents? What will you tell Lord Dondarrion if he would protest?”

“Your father, Lord Knott, has sworn his allegiance to me. He will do as he is told. And Dondarrion… Do you really think that an old Stormlord will ever wish to come up to the North to fight me?”, he said confidently.

The certainty in Lord Cregan's voice was enough to squelch any remaining doubts swimming in your mind. His magnetic confidence had a way of drawing you in, making you question the foundations of your own thoughts and beliefs.

Still, you couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, leaning back against the bedpost with a hint of incredulity in your eyes.

“Cocksure and audacious. I suppose these are traits that I should expect from the Lord of Winterfell,” you commented wryly, crossing your arms over your chest. A soft light danced in his eyes at your words as he rested his hand on the wooden table, leaning towards you ever so slightly.

"And yet, here we are," he began, his tone mild as he absorbed the weight of your words. "In this secluded little hut, far away from prying eyes and the judgmental gaze of society."

He paused slightly, his gaze softening with an emotion that was too complex to decipher. "Should we not take this opportunity and consider what happiness we could find in one another?"

Your breath hitched at his question, a dull ache spreading through your chest as his words sunk in. The thought of marrying Lord Cregan Stark had never crossed your mind until this moment; it was simply a dream too far-fetched and distant for someone like you to entertain.

And yet, here he was - proposing just that.

A mischievous smile then took over his face, as if he had realized something amusing. “Though I must admit,” he said, moving closer to you till his face was just inches away from yours. “If I wouldn’t have known of your predicament, I wouldn’t have minded your company either. You’re a pretty one, Lady Knott.”

His eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight, his usually stern facial features smoothed and made softer by the intimate atmosphere. The warmth that radiated from him was infectious, causing an involuntary blush to creep up your cheeks.

“Lady Knott, you're blushing,” he observed, a triumphant smirk etched on his face as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze playfully inspected your flustered form before he quickly masked his amused expression with a serious one. “I believe I have chased away all your doubts?”

The faintest hint of uncertainty still lingered within you, yet the way Lord Cregan looked at you made it seem like everything was possible. You nodded at him, mustering a small smile. “I suppose you did.”

He gave you a curt nod in response before pushing himself from his chair, a determined gleam in his wolfish eyes. “Then we waste no more time.”

Tension filled the air as he took your hand, guiding you out of the hut and into the dense underbrush. Despite being bundled in cloaks which you had hastily thrown on, both of you shivered from the cold winds that whipped around you. You led Cregan through the towering forest, feeling his steady and confident stride on the snow-covered terrain. It gave you strength knowing he trusted you blindly, following your lead without question. The howling northern wind only added to the intensity of the moment.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, you stopped abruptly in front of a gigantic Weirwood tree; its bark white as snow and leaves blood-red. There was an air of solemnity around it that commanded respect and awe.

“We are here,” you said simply, turning to look up at him with shaking hands reaching for his. “Are you sure?”

The wind whistled hauntingly through the trees, as if nature herself bore witness to this tremendous decision. Cregan Stark returned your shaky grip and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was dark and stormy, an echo of the northern lands he led. Yet beneath that cold exterior was a layer of profound certainty, an unwavering resolve that was comforting in its strength.

"More sure than I've ever been," he finally said, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. He turned towards the old Weirwood tree, a symbol of his heritage and upbringing. “May the Old Gods bear witness to our oath.”

With your hands still wrapped in each other's, Cregan led you to the base of the ancient tree. You paused in awe at its size and majesty, feeling both insignificant and profoundly special at the same time. The Weirwood's face seemed to stir with an ancient wisdom as if acknowledging your presence.

Taking a deep breath, Cregan started speaking in earnest. “Before the gods, I declare my intent to wed Lady Knott,” his voice echoed through the silent forest, every word carving itself into existence as it lingered in the air.

He then looked at you, his gaze warm yet intense. "Do you willingly accept this union, Lady Knott? If so, speak your vows before the Weirwood."

For a moment there was silence, you gulped down the lump in your throat before speaking up softly yet firmly, “I do accept this union.” You took a step closer to him, hand slipping out of his to rest on his chest over his heart. “Do you willingly accept this union, Lord Stark?”

A silence fell over the eerie forest, the air seeming to hold its breath as if the trees themselves awaited his answer. Cregan Stark studied your face, a mix of love and solemnity in his gaze. He placed his hand over yours, his heart thudding steadily beneath your touch.

"Yes," he finally replied. His voice was a hushed whisper that nonetheless echoed through the silence, sending flocks of distant birds into flight. "I accept this union willingly." His hand tightened around yours. "With all my heart, Lady Knott."

The Weirwood seemed to shiver in response; its leaves rustling softly against the backdrop of the still night. His vow hung potent in the air, mingling with the soft rustling of leaves and echoing in the distance until it seemed to become one with the heartbeat of the very forest.

Humbled by his words and bearing witness to this union, you felt something in you stir. It was an intoxicating sensation, a heady mix of fear and excitement that made your heart pound in your chest like a war drum.

You both knelt before the Weirwood then, dipping your heads in reverence to the Old Gods. Shivering from more than just the frigid cold as snowflakes kissed your cheeks while they fell delicately from above. “May our lives entwine as tightly as our hands are now,” Cregan said softly, squeezing your fingers gently.

“May we grow old together under their watchful eyes,” you added, holding Cregan’s gaze with a bright smile on your face. The warmth radiating between you two belied the biting cold of winter.

He pulled you up, brushing the powdery snow off your backside. With an impish grin, he hoisted you into his arms and you couldn't help but blush.

"I'm your husband now, my dear. Let's save the 'Lord' title for when you are bouncing on my cock." He planted a playful kiss on your forehead before strutting back to the hut. It was clear he couldn't wait to fulfill his marital duties, making you blush and giggle at his eagerness.

With the Weirwood's milky bark glistening under the moonlight as a silent witness to your secret union, you clung onto Cregan as he carried you back to the hut. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, every beat echoing the promises of love and devotion you both had made under the ancient tree.

Warm light spilled from the narrow slit of a window, illuminating the path leading to your shared domicile. The wind whipped frosty kisses against your cheeks, but entwined securely in Cregan's arms, you were in a cocoon of warmth that dulled the bite of winter.

He pushed open the door with his foot and set you down gently on the thick fur rug next to the smoldering hearth. His eyes danced devilishly over your body as he shrugged off his cloak, allowing it to fall carelessly onto the floor. He then proceeded to help you out of yours, his fingers lingering on areas he promised himself he would explore later.

While his hands were busy undressing you, his mouth claimed yours in an intense battle of dominance. You responded eagerly, matching his fervor and intensity. His mouth tasted like fire and mulled wine, a heady combination that sent shivers down your spine.

His hands found their way up your body, exploring every inch until they landed on your breasts. He kneaded them gently through your dress, eliciting a small gasp from you. The sound only served to spur him on as he moved swiftly and purposefully, undoing the lacing of your dress before sliding it down around your feet.

You stood naked before him, feeling both vulnerable and powerful as you watched him admiring you. “Having any doubts?”, you asked cheekily, enjoying his rapt attention more than a proper Lady should have.

“Doubts? Ha! Never. I shall thank the Gods every day henceforth for making us meet,” Cregan mumbled huskily as he pulled his clothes off, desperate to be rid of them as soon as he could. “Sit on the bed and open your legs for me. I want to see you… All of you.”

You blushed immensely and did as you were told. When you saw Cregan standing in front of you, just like the Gods had made made him, you couldn’t help but blush. You had never seen a man that made you feel the way he did - everything from his muscular shoulders to his hairy chest down to his big, throbbing member made you go crazy. Was this a dream? It had to be.

“You are stunning,” he whispered reverently as he joined you on the bed. His hands traced over your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he moved upwards to cup your breasts. He teased your nipples lightly before parting your folds with his other hand.

“Cregan,” you moaned as his fingers found their target, sending sparks shooting straight to your core. His digit slid across your wetness before dipping inside, and you couldn’t help but arch your back in response.

“So wet for me already," he rasped, a smirk playing on his lips. “I knew you were a naughty girl from the first moment I saw you.” The teasing continued as he angled his hips, pressing the head of his cock against your cheek, before gently guiding it towards your moistened lips. “Do you want to prove me right, my pretty little wife?”

"Cregan, I… yes,” you mumbled senselessly, gently letting him enter your mouth as he continued stroking your pearl, though as soon as you let your tongue glide around his tips, his movements started becoming more and more erratic.

“Gods, that feels good,” he groaned. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued your ministrations, sucking him deeper into your mouth as he thrust in and out.

It wasn’t long before your moans mingled with his own, creating a symphony of wanton lust and desire that echoed off the walls of the hut. He pulled away abruptly with a groan. “No more," he panted heavily. "I won't last much longer like this."

With one smooth move, he flipped you over onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide apart. You felt him nudge against your entrance, hot breaths fanning over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready for me?”

“I… I think so, Yes…,” you mumbled, shaking in anticipation.

“Wait… Are you still a maiden?” Cregan asked incredulously, gently lowering himself next to you, kissing you and holding you close to him so that you would not get cold. Not being able to do anything else than to nod, you blushed and closed your eyes as you felt his arms wrapping around you and lifting you onto him.

“Oh… I, ah…”, you muttered and blushed as you saw this large, handsome man lying underneath you and grinning up at you.

“Hush, you needn’t say anything. Just do whatever feels good for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered and laid his hands onto your hips.

Your heart was racing as you felt Cregan's strong, calloused hands slip you onto him, giving you the control over the situation. Blushing, as you felt the heat of his skin against your own, you braced yourself for the slight pain that would come, yet breathed it out before sinking onto his cock with a small moan, your cheeks heating up even more.

The bed dipped under your combined weight as he grasped your waist and thrust gently upward, pushing himself further inside. Your body reacted instinctively, latching onto him with every inch until he's buried to the hilt inside you.

“Good girl… Fuck…” Cregan mumbled and gently held you down, gazing up at you with incredulous eyes.

You tried to focus on something other than the sensation, but it was impossible. His muscled, hairy chest rose and fell with each ragged breath beneath you while his hands roamed down your back—smooth skin meeting soft curves—and grasping your ass cheeks firmly. He held you there with one hand while the other slid between your legs, pushing against that sensitive spot between them that made your toes curl just from the touch.

“Oh G-gods…”, was all you managed to stutter out as you felt yourself tightening around him.

You let out a tiny moan as you began to move, rocking your hips gently back and forth as he groaned and shivered underneath you. Each thrust sent wave after wave of pleasure through every nerve ending in your body, making it impossible not to squirm. His cock was long and thick inside you, filling you completely as you took control of the pace. As he raised himself up on his elbows and took one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple, you squealed and felt your release washing over you, barely able to hold yourself over him.

“Just like that, my girl… You’re perfect…”, Cregan mumbled as he gently guided you under him, kissing you with great fervour as he repositioned himself, gently pressing your thighs down onto your stomach, lifting your feet onto his broad shoulders.

Before you could wonder what he was doing, he pushed himself inside you, making you moan loudly. This angle felt even better than before and you felt giddy at him looming over you, fucking up into you as if you were a dirty harlot and it made you tighten around him even more.

“Cregan, my Lord, I… ah…”

“Shh…” He silenced you with a hungry kiss, grinding his hips against yours in a primal rhythm. The air was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans as he continued pounding into you, each thrust harder than the last. “You're so fucking tight, I can't...”

His words spurred you on, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go even faster and harder. He obliged, his cock brushing against your insides in all the right places. It didn't take long for the sensations to build up again, but this time it was more intense than before - like a ball of fire deep within your belly that grew bigger and bigger until you couldn't take it anymore.

“Cregan, I… I can’t...”

“That's it, my girl… let it go,” he growled as he thrust one last time, filling you with his hot seed, making your orgasm explode inside of you like a supernova of pure bliss. Your screams echoed through the hut as you shook uncontrollably, both gasping for air as your heartbeats slowed down.

“Well done...”, he panted out. “I knew you'd be... perfect. My Lady Stark.”

[shares-a-vest]

'i have writer's block', i say as i go back to a little ficlet i've had sitting in my drafts for months and immediately turn into 1.4k...

Summer, 1995

Wayne Munson's hearing isn't what it used to be, but he is almost certain he can hear a steady stream of cooing sounds coming from Eddie's bedroom.

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

He yawns at the early hour as he shuffles to the kitchen for his prized coffee pot. And gosh darn it, he thinks. He really didn't want to be on a shiftwork sleep schedule while the boys are visiting with his granddaughter.

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

Yep – that is definitely Eddie with one of his silly pet names and a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Wayne can't help but stifle a chuckle as he fetches a clean mug from the drying rack on the sink. He's never known Eddie to wake up this early. Not even back when Steve moved in with his militant morning routine of jogging-showering-breakfast, all before Eddie's third alarm finally rustled him semi-conscious.

He sets his mug down with a clang on the bench as the incessant beeping of Eddie's blasted wristwatch sounds through his waning eardrums. He wishes he'd never bought the thing (in his futile efforts to make his nephew punctual) in the first place.

But the distant memory of Eddie's useless watch is quickly replaced with the disgruntled wailing of Joanie – a living, breathing tiny-human alarm that will surely be more than effective in getting his nephew up at a decent hour. For the next few years, at least.

He foregoes a courteous knock and opens the bedroom door to find Eddie sitting at the end of the bed with Steve in his lap as they both look into the crib that contains the source of the ruckus.

"What are you boys doing?" Wayne asks with fond amusement.

"Saying good morning to the light of our lives," Steve says, all syrupy-sweet as he reaches down and makes a shushing noise.

Wayne steps closer, smiling as he catches sight of his granddaughter.

"Hey, darling."

Joanie smiles so wide her eyes crinkle up, cheeks growing rosier as she kicks her feet with such vigour she could tear straight through her yellow onesie.

"We were basking in the peace and quiet," Eddie explains with an adoring sigh, "Gotta relish it before this little bean starts going about her busy day of toddling, talking and getting stinky."

"Talking?" Wayne is very much aware he sounds disappointed.

"Bee-shabba-fur," Eddie turns to Steve with complete seriousness, punctuating his babble-talk with a hand flourish.

"Eepa-nann-ca," Steve agrees, nodding up at Wayne like he is supposed to chime in.

He smiles, "I don't think you should be accusing anyone of being stinky, Eddie. I remember you at her age all too clearly."

His nephew frowns and hides behind Steve's shoulder to shield himself from any more barbs, even though his boy claps a hand over his own mouth to contain his laughter.

"A... app-ess," Joanie babbles and excitedly kicks her feet again.

"That means applesauce," Steve nods as Joanie starts grumbling again and makes grabby hands in the air.

"Looks like she's expecting that applesauce right now," he warns the pair as he scoops her up.

"But – " Steve protests.

"Shh," Eddie cuts him off as his eyes get all droopy, "Let him take her."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

Alright, so maybe Eddie still isn't a morning person. Parenthood has just forced it on him.

"Come on, kid," he says as his granddaughter cranes her neck to look out expectantly at the kitchen.

Although he is thrilled to have a whole two weeks with the boys and Joanie, the trio being back in Hawkins means that Wayne has to share them with others, including the Hendersons. Call him selfish, but he'd much prefer to just stay at home all day than pack half the house into the car for the short trip across town for lunch.

As Steve opens the car door to sit with Joanie, she grumbles and squirms, whipping her head about. Wayne dips his head to get a look at the fuss she beams, making an eh noise at the sight of him. He barks a laugh as she swivels to look at her father, her hair fashioned into two not-so-small buns giving her a disproportionate bobblehead.

"You want Pa to sit with you?" Steve asks the kid.

She shoots Steve a look like she is desperate for him to vacate the seat.

"You drive," Wayne nods, ensuring they arrange something before Eddie insists on driving.

He really doesn't feel like getting car sick before a Claudia Henderson-catered lunch.

With Steve safely driving, and Eddie being distracted by some local council drama playing out over the talk-back hour on the radio, Wayne can relax.

That is until he feels a little paw clawing at his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand," he asks Joanie as he offers his palm.

"Eh-ep...ish," she stutters out all spittle-filled.

"That means 'yes please'," Eddie chimes, leaning into the crackling radio as he scoffs at the disc jockey's quip.

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

He looks down to find Joanie now tracing the many lines on his palm. She's in a state of deep concentration, leaning as far forward as her car seat straps will allow as she goes.

She soon takes his thumb in her hand, clenching her fist around it as she grows tired, most likely due to the bumps in the road interrupting her tracing game rather than any actual sleepiness. Wayne can feel her soft fingertips press against the callous on his knuckle. She freezes and unfurls her hand to examine it.

She looks up with the same confused frown Eddie always had as a kid, her big brown eyes clearly expressing thoughts that she can't yet put into words. But she is most definitely thinking away in that little noggin.

She presses her forefinger to the callous to poke at it.

"Got a lot of those, I'm afraid," he explains, "Too tough for your hands."

She looks him over, eyes darting about as she opens her mouth like she is readying herself to respond.

For a moment, he thinks she might not have a damn clue, but then she takes his thumb again and pulls it close. He has to shift a little so his hand isn't twisting on the edge of the baby seat but sure enough, Joanie holds his hand for the remainder of the ride.

When they reach the Hendersons, Claudia announces she already has lunch well underway. She and Wayne think alike when Joanie is around. Rush through all that boring grown-up stuff to get straight to playtime with the kid.

Steve is going about his usual routine, carrying his daughter around the house to give her a tour while the others make the finishing touches on lunch.

Though Wayne is sure Eddie and Dustin are each sneaking samples and more getting in the way than actually helping. He smirks at the sound of something clanging in the kitchen and Claudia giving a scolding, "Dusty!" as he rounds the corner to the dining room.

Steve is walking around the table with Joanie in his arms, counting the chairs aloud. But Joanie isn't listening. She spots Wayne and beams.

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

Joanie outstretches her hands as she tries to wiggle out of her father's grip. And Steve, the poor boy, looks shell-shocked. He blinks, eyes as wide as Claudia's special-occasion dinner plates.

"Eh-Eddie!" Steve half stutters, half shrieks as tears begin to well up.

"What, what, what?" his nephew panics, walking in from the kitchen cradling a gravy boat like his hands are too full for anything else.

He walks right up to Steve and practically hooks his chin on his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his partner. And Joanie just keeps squirming, now turning her attention to her father.

"Pa!" she whines through a frustrated little hiccup as she points across the room.

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Wayne doesn't hear the sound of the gravy boat dropping onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet. He doesn't even look to make sure. He's far too focused on his granddaughter.

"She said her first word," Steve whispers like he has a frog in his throat.

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

But the moment is short-lived as the kid resumes wriggling about, pushing against Steve's possessive hold with some real force this time as she balls up a fistful of her father's pale blue polo shirt.

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

Wayne shakes his head and steps forward. He'll have to save the serious emotions and a doting session with the boys for later if they want to avoid a catastrophic meltdown right now. He beams as he rushes the couple of strides it takes to reach his cranky granddaughter, who remains completely unaware of the marvel that has everyone at a useless standstill.

"Better do as she says," he laughs, taking her from Steve.

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

Joanie almost jumps into his embrace as she hooks her arms in a vice-like grip around his neck. Wayne looks at the boys, apologetic as he bounces his granddaughter.

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

[mysouleaten]

raining cats and dogs ! [pt 2]

tokyo rev cats/dogs x gn! reader

summary ... it only started with [name] taking in two strays when they were driving home from work, it was pouring and the two poor strays were soaked! you couldn't leave them… so you took them in

warnings ... fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff, just a smidge of angst, uhh takemichi and hinata get names!

[part one] [part two] [part three] ....

it's been exactly four days since you rescued the two stray cats from the pouring rain

they've made themselves pretty comfortable in your apartment. you made sure to give them a warm bath and take them to the vet the next day

it seemed you had two lover cats, one boy, and one girl

they were adorable! curly up next to each other, licking each other clean, and chasing each other around. they didn't give you much trouble either! they were just curious about what you like to do and follow you around your apartment

you were even blessed with one of them sleeping in your lap while you were working on your laptop, spoiler alert you didn't move and you were starving the entire hour..

but finally, it was time to name them, you have just been calling them 'hey you' or 'kitty'

you didn't want to get attached too quickly

but now they were part of the family! so it was naming time

right now you were sitting on your couch and the two muchkins were on your coffee table looking all cute and cuddly

you first looked at the yellowy-orange cat with stripes, you pointed at him

"your name is.... take' !" you said and the cat meowed while tilting his head to the side

you then focused on the brownish-pinkish cat, "and you are gonna be.. peachy!"

peachy meowed too and then hopped over to your lap and rubbed against your arm

you cooed at her actions and take' came over to nip at you for stealing his wife's attention from him and you giggled

"she's all yours buddy!" you gave a small laugh

you pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time, "ahh.. gotta get ready!" you stood up and placed peachy next to take'

you stretched out your back and lifted your arms above your head-your shirt lifts up with your stretch- you started to walk towards your room and your cuties follow you, meowing all the way

opening your room door, peachy and take' quickly run inside and hop on your bed-peachy was making biscuits and take' was resting beside her

you pulled out your work clothes, it was a light blue shirt with the pet shops logo on the front and a pair of black pants

you pulled your home shirt off your body, and as you were pulling on your work clothes you heard a low hiss and a high squeak 'meow!'

looking over you saw peachy-who no longer was making biscuits-wack take' on the head and run away with take' following her

you giggled at their small fight "yeeeaah someone is gonna be sleeping on the couch tonight"

you walked up and down the isles of the pet shop, you were re-stocking some of the pet food and toys

humming a little tune and bopping your head to the soft music that was playing in the shop

"[name]! can you take out the leftover dog food?" one of your co-workers-yala-yelled from the other side of the pet shop

"sure!" you yelled back

you walked to the back of the store and into one of the storage rooms and collected the trash bag with the old dog food inside

when you opened the door that led out to an ally way with garbage dumps

you froze

there were tons of cats.. and a couple of dogs

all of the strays turned to look at you, many of them gave you- mean looks?

yeah, they didn't seem happy to see you, one of the cats looked high.. it had a blond patch of fur on its head but the rest of its fur was black... and it had a pricing? ok that's enough

you gave an awkward smile and just put the bag next to the stairs, you were gonna take the trash out later...

then you noticed a big black cat on top of a smaller cat beating the absolute shit out of it, poor thing, you wanted to help the smaller cat but a hiss made you rethink your decision. whatever those cats were doing wasn't your problem...

where you scared? psshhh.. no..

before you shut the door you heard a loud hiss and that made you shut the door quicker

god knows if you'll be next like that smaller cat.. cats can be pretty mean

you blew out a breath and made it back into the shop, you whined to your co-worker about the mean scary cats outside

it's been days since your encounter with the... gang of cats?

you were in your brother's neighborhood riding on a motorcycle-yes you had one, well more like it was your brothers- you stopped by a car dump because you noticed a large population of cats and a small number of dogs leaving the car dump area

"what the?.."

you remembered the people who talked about cats who would 'fight' in the car dump, they even had names for each gang of cats, but you don't remember any of the names

hoping off your bike you made your way to the entrance of the car dump, and that's where you heard it

a loud but sad cry of a cat

you sped up your walk-avoiding stepping on any of the cats that made their way out-you saw the exact same cat from days ago, the one that was getting beaten up, it was leaning over the bigger cat and crying into its fur

"holy crap!" you yelled, this got the attention of the other strays in the area

"holy crap!" a foreign voice yelled out

chifuyu looked up and saw a woman standing there, a shocked expression on her their

"chifuyu...whos that?..." baji coughed out, chifuyu snapped his head towards baji "don't worry! I won't let them hurt you!"

but he didn't notice how the person already made their way quickly over to them

"chifuyu!"

"look out!"

"baji!!"

"hey!"

before chifuyu could do anything the person carefully grabbed baji and ran off and out of the garbage dump

"baji!" yelled out chifuyu, no no! he couldn't lose him too! he lost takemichi, he couldn't lose baji!

chifuyu ran after the catnapper but he was too late the catnapper was already on their bike and driving off, he raced after the bike but he wasn't fast enough and lost sight of the motorcycle

"baji!!!" chifuyu screamed, he then tripped over his own paws and fell face-first into the ground, he sobbed quietly, he put his paws over his face to hide his shame

"chifuyu?" mikey said, chifuyu didn't move

"chifuyu!" draken yelled, this got chifuyu to sit up but hang his head low

"baji is gonna be alright.. whoever that was, is trying to help" mitsuya uttered, chifuyu didn't answer

they didn't know that the catnapper was going to be a very dear friend in the future

cuties <3

[yellow-computer-mouse]

i finished that fic i wanted to write! under the cut :)

featuring ccino and nightmare!

Ccino knew, rationally, that his cafe was a neutral zone. He knew that he was respected and held above conflict. However, it was still mildly terrifying to see Nightmare himself walk in and make himself at home.

“Hello,” he greeted cheerfully, pushing down his dread. Criminal or not, he was still a customer. Business was business. “May I take your order?”

Nightmare looked up at him, his bright cyan eyelight seeming to stare straight through Ccino. He blinked, turning away, and continuing along his path. Ccino craned his neck to watch him as he made his way into the cat room. Ccino sighed, going back to work. It was around closing time, but he didn’t dare tell Nightmare to leave. He wasn’t stupid.

As the clock hit 9 PM and he turned his sign to read closed, he looked over into the cat room. He couldn’t see Nightmare. Frowning slightly, he pushed the door open, stepping in. Wisp and Milky crowded his legs, meowing at him eagerly. He ignored them for the time being, looking around for Nightmare. His eyes finally landed on the guardian, his form slumped sideways across a sofa with Peanut crouched on his legs. The long-haired cat looked up at Ccino but didn’t move, his light ginger tail flicking gently.

Ccino stepped closer hesitantly, examining the dark skeleton closely. His arm was around a pillow, pulling it closer to him. His eye was closed, and he seemed far away. Ccino blinked, crouching down to his level, and ran a shaky hand over his skull. Nothing.

He stepped back, scooping up Wisp and petting his soft white fur idly. The cat jumped out of his arms as Ccino pondered the sight before him. Nightmare, the guardian of negativity, feared throughout the multiverse… was asleep inside his cafe. Huh. Ccino smiled despite himself. It was oddly endearing to see Nightmare so vulnerable. He seemed so small. Ccino realized for the first time that he was taller than the dark skeleton.

He let out a soft breath, running his hand over Nightmare’s skull again and quietly slipping out of the room to finish cleaning up. He gazed over the room before walking over and starting the kettle. Nightmare was his guest now, he supposed. He thought it odd that Nightmare, with how powerful he was, chose to stay at Ccino’s. Thinking about it, Ccino wasn’t sure what had happened to Nightmare after Killer had left and the truce had been formed. He knew that Dream and the other Stars had moved to the Omega Timeline, considering that hideouts were frowned upon after the truce, but… Nightmare was banned from the OT. Ccino peered back into the room through the glass wall separating the cats from the eating area. No wonder Nightmare looked so out of it when he first walked in…

He shook his head, going back to work. He collected the dirty dishes, scrubbing them gently and setting them on the rack to the side. He left the counter, heading into the cat room and unlocking the door that led from the cat room to his apartment. He went upstairs, looking around before deciding to clean up a bit. He didn’t know what Nightmare’s life was like at the moment, but he figured he might as well be able to offer something better than a couch covered in cat hair: a lumpy, slightly larger couch covered in cat hair.

He remembered boiling the kettle, and after a moment’s hesitation, took two mugs from his cabinet. Nightmare was a guest. He went back downstairs to the cafe, entered the cat room, and looked over at the guardian again. Nightmare hadn’t moved, but his eye was cracked open slightly as he sleepily batted at a ball on the ground. Ccino chuffed warmly, going to make some tea. The clock read 10:30 in glowing red letters as Ccino made a drink for Nightmare. He recalled the dark skeleton’s usual orders, maneuvering through the silent kitchen as he prepared a cup of tea. Nothing too fancy, just some chamomile, but hopefully Nightmare would appreciate the thought. Ccino pushed back into the cat room, waiting for a moment to watch Nightmare. He had sat up, his back propped against the armrest, and was petting Peanut. His hands ran through the cat’s thick fur, clumsy with sleep.

“Nightmare,” Ccino spoke softly. Nightmare startled, turning around to look at him. He sat up, grunting slightly with the exertion. Giving him a closer look, he really did seem like a wreck. Ccino pretended not to notice his disheveled state, instead moving closer and sitting on the floor beside Nightmare. “I made tea.” He pushed the mug over to Nightmare, watching as the other took it gently. He just held it in his lap for a moment, staring into the drink and letting the cup warm his hands before taking a sip. He still seemed tired.

“Here,” Ccino said, taking the cup from him. Nightmare frowned, seeming like he wanted to say something, but Ccino shushed him. “Hold on. I’m getting you out of the cafe first.”

Nightmare blinked, trying to formulate a coherent thought before Ccino sat forward and lifted him into his arms. He held the guardian steady as he scrabbled in a moment of mild panic before reconciling his fate. Ccino felt a weight on his shoulder as Nightmare slumped in his arms, and he did his best to pretend he didn’t hear the soft whimper of relief Nightmare let out.

Ccino carried him upstairs, laying him down on the sofa before returning to retrieve his drink. When he finally made his way back into the apartment to settle for the night, Nightmare was almost asleep again. Ccino roused him, gently shaking his shoulder and trying not to feel guilty about the way Nightmare whined and reluctantly sat up.

“I brought your tea,” Ccino said, his voice softer than usual. Nightmare took the cup from his hands, leaning against the armrest and drinking slowly. Ccino kicked back, putting on a show and finally unwinding for the night. He looked over after a bit, having heard Nightmare set his cup down, and smiled softly at the sight he discovered; Nightmare was cuddled into the side of the couch, watching the TV with a sleepy gaze.

Ccino stood, leaving the room for a moment to bring a blanket from his bed, but on his return, he found Nightmare asleep. He sighed, taking a minute to stare at the guardian’s huddled form before scooping him up to better arrange Nightmare’s sleeping area. Setting him back down, Ccino laid the blanket over him, sitting beside Nightmare for a while before turning the TV off. It was getting late, and he needed to get an early start for the cafe the next morning. He turned the lights off, staring at Nightmare in the dark before deciding to turn on a lamp in the corner and leaving for his own bed.

Maybe Nightmare wasn’t so scary.

[kaynanarie]

JourneyTober! Day 11 - Creation

            “Nothing in that room, just more sand and some empty trunks. Looks like it’s whatever rations we have left for dinner.”

            Jen stepped into the main chamber, sunlight and sand spilling in from the half-submerged windows. She paused mid step when she counted not one but four identical monkeys in the room. While Monkey’s newfound spell of creating clones was useful, Jen was surprised to see it outside of combat. One was setting up camp to the side, coaxing a spark into a proper fire. Two were sparing, taking up most of the space with their spins and strikes. The last was closest, perched atop his staff.

            “What’s with the party?” Jen asked, careful to stay out of range of any wayward attacks.

            “Practice,” the balancing monkey answered. Leaping down, he used the moment to swing his staff, the impact ringing against the stone floor.

            Jen glanced around. “For the clones? They seem fine to me.”

            “Fine for a fight,” he said. “Need more focus for individual control.”

            A mischievous idea crossed Jen’s mind. Smiling, she stepped up to Monkey as he prepared his staff for another pillar strike. “Sooooo you need focus for the clone spell, hmm?”

            His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before he could guess her next move, she jumped at him, grabbing at his sides to tickle him. While she didn’t expect much of a reaction, the completely blank stare she received was disappointing.

            “Really? Nothing?” she pouted, brushing at the fur of his neck and face. Still, he didn’t move, even his tail was as still as his expression. After an awkward moment, she withdrew her hands and crossed them in embarrassment. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to your clone training.”

            When she backed away, Jen bumped into the monkey that had snuck up behind her. Arms looped around her waist and lifted her clean off the ground like a misbehaving cat. The monkey in front of her grinned before disappearing in a puff of smoke and one singular hair.

            “Wait, wha?” Jen’s face burned when she realized her mistake. She could feel the rumble of Monkey’s chuckle in his chest while she dangled from his arms. “Alright, very funny, you got me. I’ll go over there and leave you alone now.”

            The brush of his chin when he shook his head was foreboding. Jen had half a second to panic before fingers dug into her sides and returned the favor. She squealed and barked out a laugh, flailing and kicking in his unbreakable grip. Nuzzles against her shoulder tickled his cheek fur along her vulnerable neck.  

            “Stah-ah-ahp! I ca-ah-ah-an’t breathe!” she begged between hysterical cackles. When he finally ceased, she was red faced and teary eyed, giggles still bubbling up as he set her down.

            “That’s so not fair,” she whined, stomping over to the neglected campfire. “I can’t even win a tickle fight.” Monkey followed after her, his quiet chuckles echoing off the stone walls and coaxing a smile to her face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Almost caught up with these. Thanks to anyone reading.)

[tyxoxo]

RxLuSTx0_ - II.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, read part 1 here

genre: smut (aftersex/aftercare), camcouple!jeno/reader

words: 850~

warnings: none

a/n: typed this up at work LMFAO

jeno ended the live quickly, bending down to the height of the laptop to tap the “end stream” at the top right hand corner.

his audience was used to his silent goodbyes, knowing he just wasn’t the type to say any closing remarks, especially if he was the one still standing from the night's events…

which was usually the case.

all that remained was the homescreen, a picture of the two of you from one of your vacations, jeno hugging you from behind as he rested his head on your shoulder. two big grins, in front of whatever monument you all decided to track down that day in the blistering heat.

he abandoned the laptop, rising to his feet and walking over to where you lay sprawled on the vinyl floor. to no surprise, he was still hard, fighting the urge to stroke himself over your unresponsive body.

you looked so pretty, arms splayed up at your head, cum stuffed so far in your throat that it managed to come out the other end—bubbling past your nostrils with every shallow breath. you would probably be mortified to see yourself this way, but to jeno, it was the hottest sight he’d ever seen.

he noticed your tremors, jolting from the aftermath of your trouble to swallow everything he gave you. you did amazing, he thought. and he was sure the audience thought so too, considering the abundance of donations that poured in. with a smile just as soft as the picture on the laptop monitor, he bent down once again, bundling your arms over your torso and gathering your legs together.

in one swift motion, he lifted you bridal style, making sure your head fell into the crease of his shoulder for support. you finally responded to his affectionate stimuli, eyes attempting to blink away the remaining tears that pooled under your eyelids.

“you did so good baby…”

you finally set your eyes upon your boyfriend, breath hitching from the gentle tone of his voice.

“i did?”

your two words were followed by a delicate cough, attempting to clear your throat of the thick substance you thought you had swallowed thoroughly.

“of course you did…so beautiful.”

he lowered his face to your flushed skin, continuing to whisper sweet nothings against your tear-stained cheeks as he carried you over to the bed.

he lowered you onto the faux fur comforter, giving a tender kiss to your forehead before walking off in the direction of the ensuite bathroom.

by the time he came back with a warm washcloth, you had already attempted to rid your face of the mess he made; even wiping the remnants of his cum off the corners of your mouth. still, you couldn’t help but savor the salty fluid, sucking the pads of your thumbs clean with a slight pop.

jeno’s eye smile grew upon seeing your antics, adoring your effort to never waste a single drop—something he taught you very early on in the relationship.

you scooted a few inches on the bed, allowing him room to sit on the side.

the comforting silence was just what you needed to comedown from the intensity of tonight’s events.

even though jeno wasn’t much of a talker, except for when he was buried inside you or your mouth, it was a nice change of pace to receive such calming aftercare. no worries about the past, present, or future, just pure enlightenment in each other’s company.

you rose up to rest your back against the headboard as he brought his fingers forward, taking off your eyelashes that were completely soaked, or more appropriately—ruined.

you kept your eyes closed as he began wiping along your forehead, somewhat embarrassed at the realization that you were comparable to that of a train wreck.

but the warmth brought on by the washcloth now swiping along your breasts eased your worries, your upper half eventually slouching into his gentle cleansing.

“i’ll keep this here in case you need it okay.” he stopped his ministrations, setting the washcloth on the nightstand.

you craved his touches, something softer to end the night. even as he turned to set the cloth down, you reached your hands forward, clawing at his thighs, signaling that you were impatient for his cuddles.

he turned back to face you, bangs sweeping across his twinkling eyes.

“don’t worry baby, i’m here…i’m here.”

he hushed words were repeated like a mantra as he began enveloping you in a sweet embrace.

he’d always been the bigger spoon, wrapping his arms under and around your neck and letting the other rest on your hip, scooting your front further into his broad frame.

he had plenty of preferred positions, but whatever allowed him to plant consistent kisses on your forehead, was his favorite.

“you’re all mine, you know that right?”

you felt him whisper along your temple, causing a shiver to run along your spine. you arched your back in response, breasts pressing firmly against his chest. you peared up slowly, speechless from viewing absolute beauty right in the face.

“always yours…”

was the last response you could muster as the onset of slumber descended upon your eyelids; drifting off to the caresses that were of assured and everlasting peace.

i feel like this is trash >.<

[luna-nigthshade-wood]

The perfect gift

The perfect gift, everyone thinks, is the minimal gift that Dean deserves in his birthday after all the years he spent taking care of everyone and saving the world, and his family is willing to find. Aka, the ducklings+ Cas try to find the perfect gift for Dean

The perfect gift, Jack decides as he puts different pans and pots in the kitchen counter, is this. And he can’t help but be excited when Dean smiles at him as he takes a bite of his-slightly-more-charred-than-brown burnt pancakes. The excitement doesn’t stop even when he has to help Dean cleaned the kitchen and burnt pans.

The perfect gift, Bobby-John believes as he struggles to find the design he wants, is this. And he feels cheerful as Dean hugs the teddy bear he designed with its soft and brown fur, dressed in a plaid t-shirt that smells like the apples and cinnamon of the pies that Dean likes so much. Bobby-John gets even more cheerful when Dean hugs him too.

The perfect gift, Kaia ponders as she struggles to find it, is this. And the gleeful look on Dean´s face as he opens the box and finds a collection of well-loved Vonnegut books is worth it. And Dean and her will later get engrossed in a conversation about the real classics, while Claire calls them nerds, and that will be even more worth it.

The perfect gift, Jesse rules as he browses the aisles of the store, is this. And the childlike wonder that Dean gets as he finds his favorite comic books from when he was a child makes Jesse´s chest swell up with pride. And later, Dean and him will see the comics and try to recreate the sillier moves, and they will laugh like loons.

The perfect gift, Alex hopes as she tries to untangle the wool, is this. And the way Dean´s eyes light up as she presents him the bracelet with the good luck pendant makes her thankful to be here sharing this moment. And afterwards, Alex will hug Dean, and the hunter will promise to always be there for them.

The perfect gift, Krissy wonders as she steps inside the music store, is this. And the way that Dean caresses the polished wood of the guitar she gifts him, as he starts playing some tunes, makes her smile something fierce. And once the party has dwindled down, Dean will track her down and teach her some basic tunes, and her smile will be the brightest

The perfect gift, Patience reflects as she wipes the paint from her hands, is this. And the delicate way that Dean handles the portrait she made of their whole family as if he was handling a Picasso, is a balm to her soul. And later Dean will build the picture a frame before finding the best place to hang it at the Bunker, and they will both smile every time they see it.

The perfect gift, Ben exclaims as he clicks in his computer, is this. And the little fist bumped, Dean makes when he opens the box to find the tickets to the baseball game makes him do a little fist bump himself. Later on, Dean will take an old glove and a baseball ball and their little play will devolve in an all time war with his siblings and family, and he will cackle at the chaos.

The perfect gift, Claire trusts as she finishes the final touches of her gift, is this. And the delicateness that Dean has as he pulls the new polished and repaired dagger out of the box, makes Claire smile despite herself. Afterwards, Dean will ask her how she was able to make this and Claire will smile cryptically towards Cas, but won’t say anything, after all she is the one that went through all the trouble of recreating the angel´s blade.

The perfect gift, Emma contemplates as she tries to take the glue out of her hands, is this. And the brightness of Dean´s smile as he careful looks at every photo of the scrapbook she made, bright her heart and her days. After, Dean will pull out and old trunk full of memories and pictures and they will start another scrapbook together, and she will feel the happiest person on the world

The perfect gifts, Sam shuffles as he tries to get them all through the door, is this. And the way that Dean almost falls in his haste to get to the pie table is a reward by itself. Later, Sam and Dean will go out and sit in the trunk of the Impala as when they were kids just watching the stars and they will both forever be grateful of being brothers

The perfect gift, Cas is not sure what it is and then he remembers something small that Dean used to want when he was a child. It is in the way that Dean eyes start to wet as he slowly but surely takes the figure action he wanted all those years ago, and sometime soars inside Cas´ chest as Dean pulls him in a kiss. Dean will go to bed later that night and will cuddle with him, and that is the most perfect gift that Cas can ask.

The perfect gift, Dean thinks, is this right here. It is the sheepish look in Jack´s face as he presents his burned pancakes to him. It is in the proud eyes of Bobby-John after he presents the teddy bear to him. It is in the excitement that Kaia gets as she starts to discuss her favorite books with him. It is in Jesse´s laughs as they pretend to be Batman and Robin It is in the way Alex´s protectiveness ensues as he promises to never leave any of them alone. It is in the soft tunes that Krissy plays on the guitar as he teaches her some of the music they both love. It is in Patience´s art and painting that bring a smile to his face every time he sees them. It is in the hesitant but firm way Ben throws the ball as their little practice evolves into and all war (it is also in the chaos that ensues). It is in the way that Claire smirks as he wonders how was she was able to recreate such a master piece. It is in the happiness of Emma and her little quips as she tells him the story of every photo on the scrapbook. It is in the nervousness on Sam as he suggests they go to watch the stars as was their tradition when they were children (it is in the happiness he gets as they do just that). It is in the action figure that Cas carefully gifts Dean, and it is not even about the action figure, it is about the healing of his inner child and the thoughtfulness that Cas had when he searched for said gift.

The perfect gift, Dean is sure, is this moment, it is being alive, surrounded by his love ones, and he wouldn’t change them for all the presents in the world

AO3

[wub-fur-radio]

New Brooms & Pantries!! More 21st Century Post-Punk for Your House

Wub-Fur presents another eclectic mix of new post-punk rock music that you should listen to. 19 tracks featuring selections by Iguana Death Cult, Egyptian Blue, Mannequin Pussy, Yard Act, Pylon Reenactment Society, Uranium Club, Hot Garbage, and a dozen more bands who know what “a new broom sweeps clean” means.

Cover Art by the Photoshop AI (we asked it for "Abstract album cover art for a compilation album of 21st century post-punk rock music"). Apologies to Ian Dury and the Blockheads, whose classic 1977 first album is the inspiration for the title of this mix.

▶︎🎶  Listen on Mixcloud or 🍎 Music

Running Time: 1 hour, 10 seconds

Tracklist

Intro / WUAMLWM [Brief Excerpt] (0:10)

Pushermen (3:50) — Iguana Death Cult | The Netherlands †

Nylon Wire (2:14) — Egyptian Blue | Brighton, UK †

Hyperglam (1:50) — Opinion | Occitanie, France ‡

Accidental Momentary Blur (2:41) — Ulrika Spacek | London, UK †

Small Grey Man (4:02) — Uranium Club | Minneapolis, MN ‡

I'll Do What I Can (3:46) — Folly Group | London, UK ‡

Dream Death (2:47) — Feeling Figures | Montreal, Canada †

Redecabbaged (3:01) — Sachet | Sydney, Australia ‡

Educate Me (3:53) — Pylon Reenactment Society | Athens, GA ‡

Who Do You Wanna Be? (3:48) — Dream Wife | London, UK †

Dead Meat (1:29) — The Tubs | London, UK †

When the Laughter Stops (3:16) — Yard Act | Leeds, UK ‡

Long Way from the Top (4:03) — TV’s Daniel | Austin, TX †

I Got Heaven (2:51) — Mannequin Pussy | Philadelphia, PA †

Lowering (4:02) — Hot Garbage | Toronto, Canada ‡

A Brash Child (3:00) — The Pheromoans | UK †

Pop Star (2:53) — Lime Garden | Brighton, UK ‡

Ex-KGB (3:42) — The Toads | Melbourne, Australia †

The Ring (2:51) — Flowertown | San Francisco, CA ‡

All tracks released in 2023 † or 2024 ‡.

[kristannafever]

Second Chances - 7

Kristranna Modern AU Rated: Explicit WC: 2115

Chapter Index

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

Anna was nervous as hell, walking beside Kristoff to keep up with his long strides as he stalked towards the coffee shop.  It had taken a lot of convincing for him to have her there.  Nearly an argument.  It was Anna’s point in the end that she wanted to flaunt what she had now, that got him to reluctantly agree.

And Kristoff was playing up to that fact.  He wore his work boots with the thick soles that made him a little bit taller than his already impressive stature, dark jeans, black t-shirt and faux-fur lined bomber jacket that he said wasn’t his style but was a gift from his sister.  Anna agreed with his sis; he looked magnificent in it. 

She didn’t really want to do this, ready to blow him off, until she actually went through her jewellery and realized she was missing some.  A bracelet from her mother and a pair of earrings that were given to her by her sister.  She had to wonder if her ex had stolen them or hidden them from her since they were some of her most treasured pieces that she only wore on special occasions. 

Kristoff stopped at the door and opened it for her, following her closely behind into the crowded coffee shop.  She saw him right away, looking up at her and smiling with a little wave.  Then he saw her companion and his smile faltered.

Anna approached the table.  “Can I have my stuff please?”

Her ex’s green eyes shifted from her man back to her.  “Sit a moment.  I’d like to catch up.”

“Catch up?” Anna laughed acrimoniously.    “What the fuck would we have to catch up about?”

Her ex cleared his throat, gaze turning hard.  “Please sit a moment.  I just want to talk.  There was no need to hire a lap dog.”  His eyes flicked back to Kristoff.

“This?” Anna asked, glancing back and pointing at Kristoff.  “This doesn’t concern you.  Yet.  Please give me back my things.”

Her ex clenched his jaw and reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small velvet sachet which he placed on the table directly in front of himself.   “You know,” he said, looking up at her with cool disinterest, “I could have just as easily kept these for myself.  If found them in the old carry-on luggage when I was cleaning out my closet.  The least you could do is sit and buy me a coffee as a thank you.”

Anna felt Kristoff press further against her back and knew he was seething without having to look at him.  She had no idea what her ex was attempting but it wasn’t going to go any further than this.

“Fuck you,” she said, leaning over and grabbing her bag. 

A hand clamped on her wrist as she was about to take it back, then an even bigger hand clamped into her ex’s forearm. 

“Hey!” he shouted, letting go of her wrist immediately.

Anna stepped back as Kristoff was in front of her now, putting his body between her and her ex.  She peered around his shoulder to watch what was happening.

“Let me go!”

“Let’s get one thing clear,” Kristoff leaned in and growled, “I’m no lap dog.  I’m Anna’s man.  And you? You are one fucking pathetic piece of work.”

“Fuck off,” her ex spat, trying to wrench his arm out of the grip.  His other hand came up to try and match the grip Kristoff had, only for Kristoff to quickly clamp his free hand on her ex’s other forearm.

“You and me should go outside,” he said calmly, making her ex stand up and letting go to quickly turn him around, then clapped his hand on the back of the dirtbag’s neck with the other firmly gripped on the back of his arm leading him forward.

Kristoff pushed the other man out through the door without much further protest.  Anna followed, smiling to herself and noting that everyone in the place was watching what was happening with rapt interest. 

Her man was smart enough to know that and steered her ugly mistake around the side of the building where nothing was watching them, the he turned in front of her ex and pushed him against the brick wall of the building, forearm pressed against his neck. 

“I don’t care your motives were for wanting to sit down with her,” he said in a low and threatening voice when Anna approached them.  “I don’t care about you at all.  I will just as easily step on you like I step on a bug if I was so inclined.”

“Fuck you!” Her ex gargled and stared to claw at Kristoff’s forearm to relieve the pressure on his neck. 

Kristoff’s hand came up lightning fast and with an open palm he smacked the struggling man’s temple.  He grunted in pain and Kristoff let go as her ex went limp and shrugged against the building, hands coming up to protect his face. 

“You’re so pathetic.”  Kristoff laughed, and stepped away.

Anna moved forward.  It was her time to shine. 

“It’s more like fuck you,” she said calmly, staring at him with a triumphant smile while he side-eyed her, his hands clamped on his bruised throat.  “Or rather, you can go fuck yourself, because there is no way you know how to actually please a woman.”  She raised her eyebrow.  “Lucky for me I found a man who knows exactly how to do that.”

She turned to walk away, Kristoff waiting patiently a few feet away with his arms crossed, when her ex had one last dig.

“You are so naïve!  He’s lying just to get pussy.  There is no way he actually likes you, Anna.  You are the worst!”

Kristoff’s face twisted with rage and surged forward.  Anna stopped him with a palm on his chest as soon as he reached her.  He stopped immediately, his face relaxing as he looked at her.

“He’s not worth it, Baby,” she whispered to him. 

She turned back to her ex who was still slumped against the building, glaring at her with his hand on his throat.  She was going to say something.  She wanted to say something.  Then she looked back at Kristoff and decided that she was right in the first place.  He wasn’t worth it.  She had her jewellery back and there was no reason to one up someone who fights with nasty lies.

With one final look of pity thrown his way, Anna turned her back and grabbed Kristoff by the arm so that they could go home.  Her ex, not liking this dismissal, had a lot to say about it and launched into a tirade much like she heard when he broke up with her. 

“Shit, he is one delusional motherfucker, isn’t he?” Kristoff said to her with a smirk.

That made her burst out laughing with her ex still spouting out behind them, and she was delighted when Kristoff joined her ruckus laughter, making her ex even madder.  They continued on, and once they rounded the corner of the building, the pathetic man’s ranting was drowned out in the sounds of traffic and people. 

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

As soon as they were back home after their encounter with her ex, Anna was all over Kristoff.   The entire ride home had been torturous for her, replaying the way Kristoff handled the other man with such ease over and over again, being delighted by it in her mind, and more forcefully, her body.  She told her man as much, getting him just as hot under the collar as she was to know that as soon as they were home, it was on.

His lips were ravenous on hers.  His kisses deep and powerful, while his impossibly strong hands handled her gently and respectfully.  Those same hands that had knocked her ex down a peg.  Those big hands that brought her more pleasure than she ever dreamed that hands could. 

As soon as they freed each other of every stitch of clothing, their naked bodies were pressed together under the covers of the bed.   It wasn’t long before Anna was longing to feel him, easily the greatest feeling in the world in her life as of late. 

“I need you,” she breathed, his fingers working magic as his lips travelled down her neck to her collarbone.

He obeyed, shifting his body with hers so that they could come together.  A moment later he was pushing into her, moaning softly, then kissing her passionately.  Anna moved in tandem under him, taking in more and more until there was no room left within her. 

“I will never get tired of this feeling,” she sighed, relishing in the fullness of him.

“Neither will I,” he muttered, moving himself slowly so that they could both savour the sensation. 

It wasn’t long after that Anna craved more.  She told Kristoff she wanted to switch and he quickly separated them and laid down in her place.  Feeling an ache without him, Anna moved even quicker to fix it, sliding herself down onto him, smiling and moaning with relief. 

Anna took her time, her hands braced on his impressive chest, moving in just the right way that brought her so very close.  Then she stopped in the nick of time, her centre pulsing with anticipation.

“That drives me crazy, you know that?”

Anna laughed low.  “I do.”  She started to move against him again, and the feeling returned with so much force she knew she would not be able to get that close to the edge again.  “Oh… Kristoff.”

“Anna,” he moaned her name in return, his big, warm hands caressing every inch of her body. 

A moment later she reached the point of no return and Anna curled up onto his broad chest.  He held her tight as she rode out the heavenly euphoria that spread warmth throughout her entire body.  Then it was over, and she was immediately wanting another one. 

“How close are you?” she asked, not ready to give up the feel of their chests pressed together.   

“Not so close you won’t have another one.”

Slowly Anna pushed off his chest to look at him.  His dark eyes stared up at her, a smirk pulling at the side of his mouth.  “You are incredible,” she said.

He shook his head.  “No, you are incredible.”

She smiled at him.  “Agree to disagree.  You want to change spots?”

“No.  I love this.  I love watching you come undone.  And when you get there, I promise I’ll join you.”

“There is no better feeling than that, is there?”

He regarded her a moment.  “No, there isn’t.”

Anna started moving with him again, going slow until the sensitivity wore off and gave way to pleasure.   She took her time with him again, taking turns from kissing him passionately to moaning out his name.  His sounds echoed hers every time, then when she felt him starting to tense beneath her, she increased her movements to meet him at the finish line. 

Seconds later his cock was pulsing in her clenching walls, and Anna curled up on his chest again as waves of pleasure took over.   It was incredible, the feeling of each other’s climax, and then their bodies slowly uncoiling from the tension.  They remained in the same embrace for a long time after.

Eventually Anna got off of him with a deeply satisfied sigh, and laid down at his side and hugged her arm around his stomach.   “I love it when we come at the same time.”

“Me too,” he said quietly.  Then after a silent moment, added, “And you’re the only one I have ever had that with.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she lifted up onto her elbow to look at his face.  “Really?”

“Yes, Anna.  You are the only one who’s ever given me that pleasure.”

“Well, you are the only one who’s given me that too, but you know that.”  She smirked at him.  “I’m surprised you never experienced that with your ex.  You’re a magnificent lover.”

His smile was slightly sad.  “It was different with her,” he said carefully.  “Not disappointing per se, but nothing like it is with you.  Not even close.  Not even in the same ball park.”

Anna had to laugh.  “I had that exact same thought.  Ballpark and all.”

His smile became the one she knew and loved.  “Did you?”

“I did.  And you know what?  I think we were made for each other.”

He wrapped his arms around.  “I agree with you on that one,” he said, and pulled her down for a kiss.

---

Previous Chapter

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[lostvalkyrie]

Real Places I Have Visited That Your OCs Would Probably Like

@thatwritingho - Olive - The Mutter Museum in Philadelphia, PA, a collection of medical oddities. They have an entire wall of skulls behind glass, a fetal skeleton, and other preserved remains. It's strictly educational, no photography allowed, but I'm not sure if there are any ethical concerns about how some of the specimens were obtained. The museum itself is beautiful, all polished wood and perfectly clean glass, and it has the feel of a library. It's just you and the bones and other equally as quiet visitors.

@the-loveliest-lotus - Lucy - The Junkman's Daughter in Atlanta, GA. It's a huge store full of funky and colorful clothing and accessories and stuff. I remember them having plenty of rainbow colors, 70s style platform shoes, and coats with faux fur collars. She would probably dig putting on a fashion show for whoever went with her.

@gointothevvater - St Cecilia - The Cosmopolitan, Las Vegas, NV. This place is just beyond. Every single aspect, even stuff that should just be utilitarian, is somehow beautiful, sleek, luxe, and perfectly maintained, to say nothing of the Chandelier Bar which I think she would like. You go upstairs and sit inside of a huge chandelier, surrounded by glimmering crystals. The entire place smells like the lightest touch of expensive perfume. The kind where you couldn't say exactly what notes are in it, it just feels pricey.

@dolly-macabre - Dolly - Stella's Lounge, Grand Rapids, MI - This is a bar with a fun vintage 80s vibe. They have retro arcade games, all sorts of whiskey, and a cocktail so strong that they'll only let you order two of them in an evening. The interior is painted black with pops of color, much like the aesthetic of a raven haired rocker lady with many tattoos.

@chordsykat - Sparkles - Wherever the sea lions congregate, San Francisco, CA - Why can I imagine her unsuccessfully trying to befriend a pile of sea lions, who would bark in an alarmed fashion and leap off of the docks as she ran at them?

My OC Vilde - John K King Books - Detroit, MI - This is a used bookstore in an old factory, and they say they have a million books here. It's at least three stories from what I remember, so I believe them. Parts are anxiety-inducingly difficult to move through due to all of the stacks of books, but then you'll occasionally find an empty aisle that you can joyfully loiter in, uninterrupted. That old paper smell always reminds Vilde of home, since her mother owned a rare bookshop downstairs from their apartment. Unlike her mother's shop, however, John K King has never stocked the Finnish Book of Necronomic Spells, the Black Book of Helvetesmunn, or any other cursed grimoires.

[midnightmah07]

𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ✨ Beauty and the Beast AU! Leobelle (a/n: did ya miss me in the inbox? hehe😙 addieyouarenext)

Glancing over his own reflex, the mirror had an issue to judge Leona, by making him stare down his face over the piece of metal. He was hideous; A beast, in fact. Even so, he doesn’t understand how he has gotten so far, specially with a pretty… No, more than that. Specially with a perfect girl like Isabelle. She was his last shot to lift up the curse, his last chance to learn how to love, his last hope to be able to be the better version of himself… Yes, all of that laid upon a girl who barged in for her father, who took no steps back, who somehow managed to see over his fur.

The clock didn’t stopped, a petal fell, and that’s how Leona grows more desperate. She has to be able to help him. He can only pray she is the one. The curse laid upon the prince was the weight of his shoulders, a reason of why he was so scared to face a modest woman like Isabelle. But what is that curse? You may ask, well, this story takes place before the winter took place as a snowstorm.

Leona, you see, he was a selfish and arrogant person that was able to sit up a throne and wear a pride of a crown. When his brother passed away, Leona was taken in with greediness for power and hunger for superficial things; beauty, is the best example of it.

On top of that, one night, the prince had invited the most beautiful women on the region, in a look for a wife, his eyes travel down the crowd; but only to look away, as soon as he hears the gates opening. Revealing a old lady, crawling into the castle with cold trembling hands… For her stay, she offered a simple rose. A symbol of sympathy as Leona would shelter her from the storm. Yet instead, the same laughed at her face, denying her stay. Except, that she warned him, he shouldn’t just take others by appearance. The green coat falls off to reveal a beautiful woman, long blonde hair and lustrous long green dress. As punishment, she puts on the Prince, a curse. The same, could only go back to normal, if learned how to love and not be deceived by appearances. If he did not learnt until the last petal falls, he would be a beast for eternity.

As years passed and went by, Leona lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? He wonders that everytime out loud, but instead of being able to rethink the same thought he hears a knock on the door.

“Master, she is ready.” The chandelier; Ruggie, announces Isabelle waiting for Leona.

“I do not ca…” He takes a deep breath. “I will be down in a minute.”

The change of humor sure caught Ruggie’s attention. But both of them were pretty aware of who caused it.

Leona steps down the stairs covered in the clean red carpet with his blue suit and yellow vest, his fur was in a small ponytail, as he gently walked down the stairs, until he stops his tracks looking up to Isabelle. The time freezes, at least that his excuse. Her hair i half down and half pull up in a bun, long ballroom dress on the same shades of the long gloves that is a bright yellow and to mix all up the beautiful golden trails of drawings of roses on Isabelle’s dress. She looks up to him with a soft smile. Because, she. She can learn how to love a beast… Isabelle can learn how to love him.

And that, the lady in green; Adeline. Could see it clearly. The black shadow standing next to her shows up in the moonlight standing on her side.

“So?”

“Not yet, Malleus. Let him say the three little words to each other.” Adeline gives a small smile. Watching the both of them twirling and swinging together around the ballroom.

“If that depends on you he will remain a beast forever…”

“Malleus!”

Adeline gasps crossing her arms over her chest offended by his words, that weren’t a full lie, but still… He could be more sensible about it.

Back to Leona and Isabelle, she lays her head on his chest, making a sparkle feeling on his chest. The tale is old as time, the song is just as old as rhyme, but it all remains the same story, with different people. Beauty and the beast, once again reunited by faith or destiny of some kind, forever meant to be together as the sun will rise. It begins all with just a little change, both of them scared, neither one prepared, but the beauty and the beast will always encounter each other, in every universe, in every life.

WHAT IS THIS. WHAT. I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS. SKSJIEJEISJSJS THEY'RE SO???? THEM??? THEY?????? THEM????? LEOBELLE MY BELOVEDS MY BABIES MY EKDJEKSJOEJDKSNSKDNSKJS AHHHHHHH

THIS IS SO GOOD IM SOBBING IM CRYING IM THROWING UP THEY'RE SOOOOOO IN LOVE IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY INSANE

I LOVE. HOW U INCLUDED MALLINE HERE TOO. ALSO RUGGIE AS A CHANDELIER MADE ME LAUGH NGL BUT I LOVE IT😭😭😭😭 THIS IS ALL PERFECT NOW!!! KISS!!!!!!!

[nursesimblr]

A few days after Eda The Lioness was born, Triki The Midwife was woken up by a familiar noise. Underneath the large tree she found Azh The Lioness surrounded by blood as she tried to clean up a small ball of fur. Duma The Cheetah remained nearby and Triki was worried. New inhabitants in paradise had always been a cause for celebration, but now it meant being responsible for looking after 10 animals at the same time. Triki, Nimli The Woman and Ugg The First would worry again that night, but first, they made sure Azh had everything she needed and named the little furball. Welcome to paradise Rek.

before || next

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

Despite having introduced the dice for the birth of animals, apparently, in addition to being more fertile they are also luckier than my Sims. lol Add that to the arrival of Triki and Nimli's children and quickly, this family became the most chaotic I've played in years. It's definitely time to spend some time at CAS 👀

[shebeafancyflapjack]

The Old Guardian

Set in @idiotwithanipad 's Era Swap AU, where our OC's Amy and Silver, as well as Mary, are alive at the same time as Humphrey and Sophie.

Silver finds a new friend hidden in Bone Hall.

-

Once she'd swished up enough saliva in her mouth, Silver spat it onto the stain before scrubbing the fabric in cold water as hard as she could.

Getting blood out of ladies garments was nothing new. Mummy had been teaching her ever since her own moon blood had started. However, when it came to Silver's new mistress, it was not simply her chemise that had the odd bloodstain. The sleeves of her best dresses, her stockings and especially her gloves. Such a shame, his Lordship provided his daughter with such lovely clothes, even though Mummy thought them rather morbid.

Kneeling on the floor beside the tub, Silver decided to try practicing some of her French as she worked. It please her Lady to see how well she was improving and perhaps give her less cause to harm herself.

"Je m'appelle Silver." She whispered, "Je travaille pour Madmouselle Bone. Puis-je vous apporter quelque chose?"

Finally, after her knuckles were red raw, one of the stains had disappeared from the woollen.

"Ah! Tres bien!" She praises herself, moving to pin it up on the rack close to the fireplace for it to dry.

Only three more garments in the 'red' pile for her to deal with. God willing, she would have them done in time to help Mummy finish her work and have supper. Her Lady would not be returning from her outing with her grandfather until later that evening.

It might have been Silver's imagination, and granted she hadn't been working here all that long, but she had taken note of how much worse her Lady's moods were after spending time with that man. A man who had only looked at Silver once and made her blood run cold at how....hateful those eyes were. Just a glimpse, not something he made too obvious to Amy's parents.

Moving back to the floor, Silver rinses out the sponge and begins to work on her lady's petticoat.

"Bonjour, mon cheri. Je m'appelle Silver. Et toi?" She practiced.

"Je m'appelle Rogh. Bonjour, mon petite." Comes a deep, gruff voice from the chair in the corner. "Ca va?"

She stilled, just for a moment.

Then smiled, "Ca va, merci...Monsieur Rogh."

"Eh....Wha-?!"

Silver whipped her head around in time to see a bundle of fur and limbs fall off the chair in shock.

She let out a giggle as her startled companion scurried back behind the chair, as if the little piece of furniture would be plenty to block out his strange form.

Silver left the clothes to soak and picked up her skirt as she stood, making her way over to the corner.

The stranger's eyes widened as she approached, trembling a little. Like a hunting dog left out in the rain for failing its master.

She stopped; "Be not afraid. You knows I cannots harm thee."

The man, for he surely was a man despite his furs and bestial posture, kept staring at her in wonder, almost disbelief.

"Ehh...How? How...you see...?" He gestured with his paw as he talked, pointing to her and then to his eyes and then himself.

As if he were self aware of how limited his speech was.

She smiled, moving to sit down a good distance from him and cross her legs.

"My Granny called it The Sight. Said many women in our bloodline hath been blessed with it, right back to Eve herself." She said, "When I were five, my da dids take me with him on his cart to check the crops. Somethin' dids startle his mare and it bucked me clean offs, woosh!"

"OH!" The stranger exclaimed, already invested in her tale.

He shifted out from his pathetic 'hiding place' to settle on the floor.

"I dids land withs terrible force and all the skies went black. I was waitin' for the angels to come carry me up, I was. Even as my da did weep and call my name, I coulds not rise, no matter how I tried and ever so hard did I try, mister!"

"But...you no die? Girl...grow...big? Live?" He frowned.

"I dids indeed!" She giggled, "T'were a miracle, my strange friend. Just as I's was on the brinks of death, I heard my uncle Jim start callin' my name. But here be the rub, Uncle Jim dids die of plague but a year before my birth! And yet there he was, stood over me, tellin' me not to be a wicked girl and break my daddy's heart. So I's stayed! Two weeks in bed I rested and then, on the night of the Harvest Moon, I dids finally rise."

The man gave her a one-sided smile, as if he hadn't smiled properly for anyone to see in a long, long time.

"Now...girl see...dead?" He asked, gesturing to himself.

She nodded, proudly; "Hope thee not be offended. I has seen thee skulking abouts the place in the corner of mine eye since our arrival. But long time ago, Granny did tells me it best not to commune with spirits till they greet me first."

"...Me...greet girl?"

"You did! You say 'Bonjour, mon petite.'" She giggled, hands on her ankles; "I'm the only little one here, yes? Or were thee greeting the mices?"

He smiled again and shook his head; "Me...speak to...girl. No mouse. Not in this...room."

She tilted her head as she watched his struggle.

"Forgive me. Is English not thy native tongue? I's afraid that I still be but a novice of French..."

The man shifted, sitting more comfortably before her.

"It...stupid...words. Me been in....house." He waved his paws at the ceiling, "Many, many, many years...even b-before...first house...Words change so much....Too quick. They....fall out of head." He tapped his temple, looking a little sad. "Every time me learn, it change 'gain. And 'gain."

"And yet the French doth roll so smoothly off thy tongue?" Silver complimented.

He shrugged, "Spend many years watch Lady of House. She good teacher. Then she have Stompy. Me watch her teach Stompy, learn with Stompy."

"Stompy?" Asked the handmaiden, with a tilt of her head.

He let out a small laugh, "That what me call Little Lady. When she small, she get big cross with mum and dad. Run back to room go STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!"

Silver laughed at the image of her mistress making such a racket in whatever smart shoes they'd squeezed her feet into.

"I shalls have to tease my Lady withs that knowledge now." She smiled, moving back over to keep working on her laundry. "With hope, she wonts report me for cavorting with spirits."

That's if Amy even believes her. She doesn't seem to pay much mind to the religious beliefs her mother holds, she might think Silver's 'gift' a mere peasant's fancy.

Rogh's jovial expression faded as he turned his eyes to the bloodstains that she was having a far more difficult time now working out.

"Stompy no 'member Rogh 'nymore." He sighed, the look in his eyes breaking Silver's heart, "When she baby, she so happy to see Rogh. Me look over her cot as she sleep. Sing 'bout Moonah. Tell stories of tribe and old dead friends. Even when she learn to walk...we play chase down hallways...."

Another adorable image. Silver had seen babies spot the ghosts she saw and react to them. Such a shame most had to grow out of it.

"Then big Lordy Bone Man come one day." The wild man continued, his tone darkening. "Show me heir, he shout to son. Son bring Stompy to him. Lordy Man not happy she girl."

Silver scoffed, rubbing another wad of spit into the sleeve before shoving it beneath the cold suds.

"That be rich menfolk for ye. I's surprised Lord Humphrey be as kindly as he is." She commented. "...Did they try to have a son?"

Rogh shook his head; "Me heard Sophie Lady say to her nurse...'une fois c'était suffisant'."

"Une..." Silver frowned as she tried to translate each word, then nodded; "Ah. Gotcha."

Not that she had much attraction physically towards men, but she imagined if she did have to marry one, she'd find herself lucky to be paired with someone as kind and decent as her Lady's father. Lady Sophie was somewhat cold and blunt. Mummy believed that all French folk be that way, but Silver doubted that was the case. Maybe the world which be so cruel to daughters of Eve had turned her heart to ice to protect herself. And, possibly, Amy too.

"Doth thou know when...this started?" Silver gestured to the blood staining the water.

He winced, "Short after Lordy Man start take Stompy for 'private lesson'. First it just little pinch pinch under table and in bed. Then she start with pins when she learn to stitch. Then fork at dinner...Rogh give up trying to tell her to stop."

That was how the two of them had been properly acquaited. The young mistress appearing outside her cottage one evening while she was gathering wood, a needle in her hand, telling Silver to 'play' with her.

Even with the fear of what disobeying her betters could potentially mean for her and Mummy, she'd refused to break the girl's skin. Even now, after her promotion to being a Lady's maid, she refused to hurt her mistress more than a harmless pinch on the underside of her wrist.

"I dunno 'ow yous can bear its, darling girl." Mummy often said to her when she'd confide in her about it; "To have the child's dead eyed stare 'pon you as yous go abouts your work. It doth give me the shivers, it do."

"Everything doth give thee shivers, Mummy." She'd retored, earning a light swat on her forearm.

Having seen the spirits of the dead since she was five, Silver had seen far more disturbing sights than a somewhat bedevilled fancy girl. Old Tom who got cleft in twain by his brother's axe had been one to remember.

"'Ere..." Silver leaned in towards the wild man, "You thinks the old Lord Bone be what put the darkness in her?"

He nodded; "Bet best bit of Bum on it. She happy cub before he appear."

"Well...then I cans makes it part of me duties to help her be that's again!" She chirped, inspecting the dress once more and pleased to see it was finally rid of any dark red patch; "All clean!"

Rogh beamed; "C'est propre! Tres bien, Petite Lune."

Silver giggled as she added the dress to the drying rack.

"Little moon. I likes that." She said, "I'm glad we cans talk nows. There be others who is hiding away? Other than them pleasant folk in the cellar, that is."

He looked down, shaking his head.

"They no speak to Rogh. Last friend go...many year before Stompy mum and dad arrive...when they both still cubs."

Silver felt that tug in her chest again; "Yous been all alone? In alls that time? No ones to talk to you?"

He scratched at his arm, looking small and solemn.

"Not nearly 'long as last time...."

That only made it sadder.

Silver knelt before him and smiled, wishing she could take his hand.

"'Ere. As your French be better than mine, and English be my skill, mayhaps wes can tutor each others? My Lady is a good teacher but she cannots spend all her times teachin' me when her own schedule be so packed."

"Rogh teach Petite Lune?" He asked, "Oui! Hehe. Can me come to cottage?"

"As if you needs my invite. Don't thinks I ain’t already seen thee poppings thy head in to smell my Mummy's potato stew." She teased.

He blushed beneath that scraggly beard.

"It better than most muck in rich man kitchen."

"She'll be pleased to hear that." Silver grinned.

They were interrupted by the door suddenly opening, Lady Sophie standing in the doorway.

"Madame." Silver scrambled to her feet, clasping her hands before her, head bowed.

"Who you speaking to?" Her Ladyship asked in English nearly as poor as Rogh's.

Quickly, she digged out her most trustworthy lie for this situation.

"The Virgin, my good Lady." Silver replied; "I asketh her for strength ands loyalty in serving Lady Amy."

She made a point of naming Jesus' mother as opposed to simply God Himself, hoping to appeal to Lady Sophie's Catholic leanings.

"Hmm. Are those clothes finished?" She asked.

"As well as can be, m'Lady." She said, hoping she hadn't missed any spots.

Rogh stood near and uttered something against her ear.

Silver cleared her throat; "Y a-t-il autre chose que tu aimerais que je fasse, Madame?"

Her Ladyship's eyes widened in surprise.

"You are improving. Accent is atrocious, but is better. Tres bien." She praised, stiffly, "My daughter is due to return home soon. See that her chambers are clean and prepared for her. Then you may assist your mother until Lady Amy's return."

Silver curtsied; "Thank you, Madame. Merci."

She looked to her side, giving Rogh the smallest smile of gratitude.

Before Sophie could fully leave, she paused.

"Another thing. Draw a bath for my daughter before she sleeps tonight. I suspect Lord Bone has taken her to some foul smelling places again." There was a slight sad resignation to her voice, but with her back turned it was tough for Silver to read her face.

She wanted so desperately to ask....is Lady Amy safe with her grandfather? Did her Ladyship know how much contempt the man had for her daughter? Was she afraid to speak up about it?

But Silver knew that any attempt to involve herself in 'private affairs' would lead to a verbal slap, if not a real one. Never mind if she was given access to all of them as a servant.

"Yes, Madame." Is all she says. Then Sophie leaves.

Silver gestures for Rogh to follow as she goes to Lady Amy's chambers to fluff her pillows and open the windows to air the room out.

She nearly chides Rogh when he goes to jump on the bed like a child, but his feet don't seem to disrupt the spread of the sheets.

"What age ist thee? Thou look as old as his Lordship but thou acts like an urchin!" She sniggers.

"Me three and twenty! Uh, me think. Saw 'least twenty Big Colds."

"Winters?"

Rogh nodded, with a grunt, then sat on the edge of the bed, watching Silver work.

"I knew mine eyes not be tricked." She tutted as she dusted the dressing table; "Her Ladyship knows that blaggared be hurting my mistress too. Ooh if I coulds gets my hands on hims."

"Been there. Have tried ripping off neck." Said Rogh.

"I has my own ways, I do. Mummy donts always approve but times be desperate." Silver smiled as she picked up an apple from the bowl of fruit on a table; "Hmm. Not quite as good as a lemon but, t'was Eve's weapon to free herself from ignorance."

"What you say?" Asked Rogh.

"Oh, haha. Pay mes no mind, my dear friend." She smirked; "I just be planning a little curse."

His eyes widen; "C-Curse?"

She pocketed the apple in the inside pocket of her dress Mummy sewed in.

"You real...witch?"

"Wes prefer 'wise woman'." She said, "But there be those who calls us that's. Won't tell anyone's, will you? Mon cheri?"

He shut his mouth and mimed with his hand the motion to stitch it up tight. Not that there was anyone he could tell if he wanted.

"Merci!" Silver giggled, "Now I must go finds some nails and vinegar laced honey. Then I can lay this here token beneath Lord Bone's carriage cushion and let it take root."

"And how you know it work?"

"I probably won'ts. But at leasts I's can be sure it'll attracts a loads of bugs to 'hopefully crawl up into his britches!"

Both of them burst into fits of laughter at the thought.

If learning French wouldn't be enough to put a true smile on her Lady's face then informing her she'd placed a bane on her wicked grandfather just might do the trick.