#day 1 - 4

[fishandshesmygills]

they should invent an understanding and intellectualizing your feelings that makes them go away!!!

[hinamie]

happy gojoday to all who celebrate

[emberglowfox]

birds of a feather

[z13lovebot]

Go fish

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Learning to celebrate the little wins!

[pxrasitism]

i hate them [hangs up another pic of them on my wall]

[church-of-lilith]

​babe wake up melissa schemmenti is canonically bisexual via one throwaway line of dialogue !!!

[orbveil]

☀️🌲🏔️♪

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[helmip]

✨🌟star light, star bright🌠✨

[emoregressioncore]

fall out boy in valentines <3

1/2/3/4 in emo quad valentines series

like or reblog if you use them plz

print pdf link

stickers/magnets (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)

[lilybug-02]

Officially Graduated

🎓✨🎉 🎓✨🎓🎊 🎉 💐

With a Major in Environmental Geoscience and a Minor in Soil Science 🌿🌋🍂🏔️🪨🌅💐

[ruinix]

your writing is genuinely amazing…like we are not worthy….

i humbly ask for a continuation of the bj blurb you did with Quinn where him and reader are 69ing 🧎‍♀️

Hello, anon. Lovely. Yes, of course, but it is I who is not worthy of you for reading my fic. I fear this moved up the queue because…just because. Anyway, for context, Part 1 is [ Payback ] aka BJ blurb. But if you squint…it can be a standalone (maybe? i think it is or I might be delusional). Please enjoy...

Fifteen

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Handjob with spitting, Hair tugging, Overstimulation (both), Cum tasting, Oral sex (m receiving / Blowjob, then both / 69) 🙂‍↕️, slightest bit of Choking, a sprinkle of Dominance, Quinn literally losing it over you 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

Count: 2816 words | Masterlist

You’re just staring. Quinn thinks it’s—his proposition—an easy sell, but you look so annoyed, glaring at him from between his thighs. You’re looking at him like he just wronged you. He’s confused.

“You don’t want me to have more?” You huff, crossing your arms, eyebrows meeting, glaring up at him with so much anger.

“My Love, I’m not saying that.” Quinn sighs, flinching when you don’t ease up on raining down hell on him.

"Quinn!" You stand up, mounting his lap, hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You pout, peering at him with such wide pleading eyes—gone is the glare. You repeat, “You don’t want to give me more?”

“What are you saying?” Quinn groans. The pain is sending heat to his sensitive cock. His mind is hazy. He’s not sure why you’re pouting when he just told you he wants another position. “I didn’t say that.”

Because…why would he get in the way of what you want? When did he ever do that to you?

You want pancakes for morning? Sure, he’ll make you some while he makes his own plate of smoked salmon, eggs, and potatoes. You want coffee? He’ll brew you a cup. You want beer? Even if he doesn’t drink anymore, he always keep the cans of your favorite brand in the fridge. You want a cocktail or mocktail? He has recipes in his phone.

You always get what you want. He’ll make sure you have everything you want. Everything you need. He’ll give it with no hesitation. So why the fuck would you think he’ll not let you have your fill of him?

“Well, you basically said it.” You sniffle for effect which works immediately.

Quinn is sitting straighter, mind clearing up yet he’s still confused. What did he say again?

“I want to eat you out, then I’ll fuck you,” were his stumbling words. Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You fucked him too much with your mouth that he didn’t say all of what he wanted to say. No wonder you’re pissed and sad.

“Sorry, my Love.” Quinn brushes a hand over your glistening lower lip that was just around his cock. “I meant to say and to rephrase, I want to eat you out while I fuck your mouth.”

You whimper almost immediately. Your grip on him finally eases. He, kind of, likes the pain, but the release only send more heat to his cock. You nod, grinding your clothes pussy over his aching member, hands rubbing over his shoulders to further your point that you’re pleased. Quinn is too. This is the reaction he was thinking about. Not the glare. Just you, being so needy as him, while his own hands grip and trace circles on your thighs.

“You should turn off the TVs. You’re wasting energy,” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with kisses that you’ll make him work for.

You’re just there, but you’re not letting him kiss you. Quinn keeps trying to kiss, failing and failing because you decide to kiss the corners of his lips. You’re driving him insane.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, willing himself not to come again as you grind over his cock, he turns off TVs, groaning when your hand wraps around his cock. Just tell him if you want him dead. You’re killing him with every stroke. If he hasn’t yet seen stars from the earlier tryst, he is now.

“My Love,” he gasps—shamefully sounding like a whine. “I will come if you don’t stop.”

“It’s okay. I won’t waste it.” You nip at his ear. He can feel your tongue tracing along the shell of his fucking ear. “Just one more. Then we can go to the bedroom?”

“F-fuck,” he breathes, hips shallowly meeting your rhythm. “You’re copying me, aren’t you?”

He feels your grin against his ear. You finally let go of his ear to meet his gaze, mischievous glim in your eyes. Of course, you are. Of fucking course. No way this is unprovoked. This is you enacting revenge on him for how much he teased you before. Isn’t it? Fuck.

He’s so fucked.

Still, he doesn’t mind it, but you’re really killing him. Especially now, because you fucking spit on his dick. The way you immediately slick it down his cock, mixing it with his arousal—he is fucking dribbling pre-cum or maybe it’s already fucking cum. He’s not sure.

“You don’t like it?” You taunt, brushing ghost-like kisses on his parted lips.

Cruel. You’re so cruel.

“Please, my Love,” he pleads.

You’re making him feel so weak.

“I promise. Just one more.” You press a soothing kiss on his eyebrow like it would help him.

Your words are exactly what he whispers when he fucks you—with his tongue or fingers or thigh or cock. Oh, you’ve plotted this so hard, haven’t you? It’s working so much. Quinn doesn’t understand why it does. He’s so utterly confused why it’s so hard to contain himself when he can fuck your pussy and make you come around him so many times without coming instantly. So why is your hand undoing him so easily? A fucking mystery.

It honestly doesn’t even matter.

Fuck. It feels so good. Like a high without drugs or alcohol or caffeine. It’s just you.

“I need your cum, Quinn.” You finally capture his lip, tongue immediately moving against his.

He groans because. Fuck. His. Life. He can taste himself. His cum. God, he tastes so good on you.

“’m close,” Quinn mumbles.

He bites down on his lips because of how fast you part from him, a trail of saliva just breaking and hitting his chin. Curses string past his lips when you greedily licked over his dribbling slit. He’s fucking gone. He can’t stop coming into your mouth. Can’t stop his hands from grabbing your head, down his fucking length so he can spill down your throat. You said you won’t waste it. He trusts you. He does. But fuck, he needs to make sure. Needs it to reach nowhere else but inside you.

He whispers your name, pleading for you to stop sucking, but you keep sucking, flattening your tongue up his underside. His vision turns fucking spotty that he wraps his hands around your hair and forces you off his cock. Pop. The fucking pop of you releasing his cock from your suction. You succubus. Nymph. Minx. Oh, God. There’s no saving him.

“Stop, stop.” Quinn pants, sweat beading on his skin. “Give me a fucking minute.”

“You never gave me a minute last week.” You smirk up at him, scratching his thighs with your nails. “Did you?”

“No,” Quinn groans, letting go of your hair, trying to fix it but failing. “Sorry.”

Shrugging, you stand up, grabbing his hands to help him up. Quinn feels like he ran two marathons. His legs are almost jelly as he walks after you. He can’t stop looking at your ass especially when you push your shorts down, revealing nothing else. You got no panties? Fuck. He almost wobbles when his fucking cock just stands. You tut, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

His lips part, failing to produce words. His throat is fucking dry. Blush heats up his cheeks when you hand him a bottle of water, coaxing him to drink while you strip down to nothing. Quinn has never drunk water so fast. His hands tremble around the plastic, squeezing like it’s a squeeze bottle—it’s not. He made a mess which would normally drive him insane. Not today.

Not when you just sat on his lap, hands going up, from your inner thighs to the glistening flesh where it meets your pussy, to your waist, to your breasts. Like you’re presenting them to him. Evil. So fucking evil like a Demoness.

“You wanna fuck these first before—”

“No,” he cuts you off, his sight darkening, his blood simmering. He’s done playing your games. You can play some other time. “Sit on my face, my Love.”

Quinn grabs your throat when you try to speak. You whimper when he pressses down your arteries, controlling the blood flow to your brain, just how you like it. Your whole demeanor shifts from the teasing brat to helpless and needy whore. Just like that Quinn grabs your rein. So easy when you were so fucking playful.

“Sit on my face or I’ll have your head hanging over the edge to fuck your throat while I eat you out,” he threatens.

Your sharp breath and whine, your hand gripping around his wrist when he gives another firm squeeze, and your arousal dripping on thigh are all signs that you want both.

You’re so hungry today. Still can’t get your fill of him when he already gave you two full loads. Greedy.

“Which one first?” he asks, releasing you, making you whine and grab his hand to put around your throat again. He does, but he doesn’t put the pressure you thoroughly need.

“I want to sit on your face,” you grumble, annoyance leaking out of you.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Quinn asks, gripping your hip with his other hand. As much as he likes the mind-blowing orgasms, you’re not normally like this. Like you’re proving a point.

“I just wanna reciprocate…” You sigh, looking away then back again. “Plus, a bit of revenge. You made me lose it last week. I want to do it too. I chose today.”

He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, watches your eyelashes fan as you blink. Your hands rub over his chest like you’re stringing a spell. It’s working. Whatever shadowed his vision clears. All he can see is you. His heart pounds. Quicker. Much quicker than it already did.

You’re staring at him with those pitiful eyes. He can’t help but melt.

“You can do whatever you want,” Quinn groans. “I did go hard on you last week, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you huff, biting your lip. “I loved it.”

Of course, you did. Quinn enjoyed it too. He always enjoys his time with you. Whatever you two do. Movies. Cooking. Cleaning. Kissing. Fucking. Sitting down on the couch without doing anything. He loves doing things with you.

“I enjoyed what you did to me,” Quinn pertains to the earlier moments. He instantly gets rewarded with a wide smile. Your smile that makes your eyes crinkle at the sides, eyes sparkling with so much joy. “You made me lose my shit.”

You laugh, so amused, so proud of yourself. You should be. You have that right. He loves you so much, so he kisses you. Less unhurried. Never less of love.

But when you scoot further down his thigh, pussy grinding over his cock, he’s once again a goner. It’s all fucking blink. Now he’s lying on his back, gripping your hips, pulling you down, tongue slowly lapping over your pulsing clit to your entrance. Fuck, tastes like a perfect pussy. A delectable pussy.

Oh, the way you scream, trying to get away when he’s only starting.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs as your back arches, as you helplessly pant. “I thought you want more?”

Your answering sob drowns out his senses. This is what he needed. Everything feels so right, so fair. He savors your taste, sliding his tongue into your quivering pussy. You’re so wet. You haven’t come yet, have you? He got to fix that. That’s not fucking allowed. He needs to feel you come so hard around his tongue.

You whimper, grinding down, hands on his abdomen for leverage. Your words are nothing but gibberish, yet he understands it. You want more. More. And more. He’ll give you more. You don’t need to beg. Not now. Some other time, maybe. Before he can start plotting, Quinn swipes his finger over your clit and pussy pulsates.

You let out a breathy scream. You grind down while also trying to run from the pleasure. So Quinn hooks one arm over your thigh. You can’t escape him. Not when he’s the one feasting now. You can’t rob him after he came for you. He won’t let you.

You keep muttering his name, keep trying to get off, keep grinding on him. His pretty girl is so conflicted. That’s cute. You’re cute.

Your thighs are quivering. Your weight on him. Quinn loves that so much. He smells your arousal, your cum, your pussy. He smells everything. He would love to die between your thighs. Die with your taste on his tongue. The only thing that’s missing is your lips around his cock. Where the fuck are you?

You mutter his name in a whiny voice, cursing and sighing. You probably fail to remember why you two are in this position. You always do that, but it’s okay. Quinn’s here for that reason. He traces up his hand over your thighs, your hips, and your back. He put pressure on your arch of your spine.

Finally, he feels your breaths on his cock. Your clumsy kisses on his shaft made him thrust up. Damn. He doesn’t think any of you will survive this position. Both of you are losing it. Why are you two only doing this position now? God, your lips, your tongue, your mouth, your throat. All of them feel so good.

Your wanton moans send vibrations through his whole body, so he makes sure to do the same, humming into your pussy, tongue tracing every crevice in you, sucking and gulping your arousal. Your responding sounds bring him more pleasure. Physically around his cock. Emotionally because he’s the cause.

Fucking perfect.

Quinn replaces his tongue with two of his fingers—the ring and the middle—and his thumb traces and teases your clit. He licks up to your other hole. He can’t neglect any of you, can he? No. Never. He’ll die if he does. Too bad he can’t reach the lube in the drawers. Too bad your arousal or his spit isn't enough lubrication. Too fucking bad.

‘Next time’, he thinks.

Quinn gives it a few more kissed before he’s back to your pussy, because you’re whining for him to stop. If you don’t want his touch there, then he won’t. He knows you. You just don’t want it today. That’s perfectly fine. Whatever you want.

He slides his tongue besides his fingers, stretching you. He knows how much you can take. You can take more than this. Oh, you do. And you love it. It’s the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, his fingers. The perfect squeeze like you’re afraid that he'll leave. He will never. He will—

You kiss his fucking tip like you’re making out with him. Your hand rubbing down his fucking length. Harsher, harder, sucking and playing with him as he does with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Quinn mutters as you do.

“Quinn,” you breathe as you kiss along length. “Close.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He can feel the familiar tremors he felt just minutes ago. The tremors he thoroughly memorized every time his cock is seated inside you. To know you is such a gift he’ll never take for granted.

So, he lets you come again, lets your cum drip into his awaiting tongue, lets you ride your orgasm. He lets you even the playing field, because now, both of you are in the same tally.

Two for two.

A good ratio, but not for Quinn. He needs you to come more than him. He needs you to soak him and lose it because it’s too much. He needs you to writhe and beg for rest. He needs your head over the edge while he fucking uses your throat. He needs to hear you gag. He needs to see your tears on flush cheeks. He needs to see your pussy red and raw from just his tongue while you get overwhelmed.

He already lets you have your control, but you’re always on the losing side here. He has more stamina and more drive to use you. Oh, the ways he’ll use you for what you’ve done to this supposed lazy rest day.

You’ve done this.

You should be prepared for more. The way you whine so softly, you’re still clueless about what you’ve done. You thought he’d just let you get away.

Quinn is kind. He’ll let you have your fill of his cum. You want your stomach to be filled with, so he’ll give that to you. It will warm your stomach, but you would realize that your pussy is not. Not a single drop of cum inside.

He knows it will drive you fucking insane.

You will be begging to be filled while also begging to stop. You will be so conflicted.

That’s a perfect scenario.

Because Quinn will not listen.

You can have whatever you want, but he already decided…not tonight.

<- Previous (Part 1: Payback)

[xinyuehui]

―I used to know two people, and your eyes reminded me of theirs. What happened to them? They disappeared.

Link Click: Bridon Arc · S3EP1

[thebookofbill]

Studio Bad Egg, the small brand that created the Cipher Cult collection and recent Pines family figures, is considering creating ANOTHER FORD FIGURE. FOR VALENTINE’S DAY. AND HE’S POSSESSED BY BILL

THEY KNOW

I cannot overstate how important this is: IF YOU WANT ONE OF THESE FIGURES, VOTE FOR IT! Studio Bad Egg is a small brand that cannot afford to make things if there isn’t enough interest, and the best way to show interest is by voting! The Instagram poll is linked here.

GET OUT THERE, VOTE, AND SUPPORT THE FIGURE SO WE CAN HAVE BILLFORD MERCH. I NEED THE KARAOKE NIGHT FIGURE (DESIGN C) LIKE I NEED AIR. DO NOT LET ME DOWN

[peachyprophets-blog]

BETWEEN SUN AND MOON

Humanoid! Catnap x Reader x Humanoid!Dogday

CW: Nicknames "Angel"

Summary: You get a letter calling you to an old factory. When you arrive, you recognize old faces that you once saw and loved as a child...

A/N: I've finished Chapter 4 of Poppy Playtime and felt the urge to write a FF.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The letter was on the table in front of you. You were surprised when you found this letter in your mail. The letter had an address that you hadn't been to for a long time, Playtime. When you were younger, you went there every day. Your favorites there were always Catnap and Dogday. Unfortunately, at some point you couldn't go anymore because your parents moved with you to another state. The last time you went there as a child, you were given two cuddly toys, Catnap and Dogday. The employees had known you long enough now and thought it would be a pleasure to give you smaller versions of two of your favorites as a parting gift. When you remembered it, you had to smile, of course that made you super happy. You still had them both to this day, and they accompanied you when you moved with Catnap and Dogday, you never felt lonely. And when you moved back to the city where you grew up after years because you had been offered a well-paid job, you suddenly found the letter in your mail inviting you to the Playtime area. You had already heard about the factory closing back then, but like everyone else, you didn't know why the factory with the great figures and the endless fun had closed. So you decided to drive to the factory the next day to see how things were going and maybe find out why the factory was closed.

When you went to the factory the next day, you were already excited inside, you were finally returning after all these years to the place that was so dear to you as a child. When you entered the factory, you were confused why it was open, but you didn't worry about it. After many terrible events such as the chase by Huggy Wuggy or Mommy Long Legs, you finally arrived at Playcare, the place that had shaped you so much. But you now knew how terrible this place was in secret and could also imagine why it had been closed. When you arrived at Playcare, you sat down for a moment because you were exhausted, but as soon as you had found some peace and quiet, a red mist came towards you before your vision became increasingly blurred and you fell into a restless sleep.

You can remember this dream, you had had it once before as a child. You woke up but your eyes remained closed, you heard two voices communicating with each other and there was a slightly sweet smell in the room. "Are you sure they're okay?" a voice asked worriedly but got no answer, just a deep "mhhhm". You were slowly able to open your eyes and what you saw frightened you. Dogday and Catnap were standing right in front of you, they seemed to be arguing with each other. When Dogday noticed that you were awake, he started to smile and sat down next to you before gently stroking your head with his hand. "Angel, you're awake," he said to me in a soothing tone. Before I could answer, I felt another weight next to you. Catnap had sat down next to me and laid his head against mine. "Don't worry, angel, he's missed you all these years, just like I have," Dogday assured me. Catnap gave an affirmative purr and looked me in the eyes for a moment longer. He seemed to notice that the dream was getting to you because shortly afterwards he rubbed his head against yours in a soothing manner.

"We've never forgotten you, of course, but we were always with you." When Dogday said these words, you remembered the cuddly toys you were given back then. Sometimes it felt like they were watching you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──