#did you know birds scratch their head the way dogs/cats do???

[paula-of-christ]

One of the few places near where I live that is covered from the rain is our balcony (and other balconies of other apartments). And that means birds like to sit on our balcony while it's raining. Two days ago, there were two mourning doves (my favorite local bird) hanging out on our balcony, essentially like 5 feet away from where I was sitting at my computer. It was really cute, and it's the rainy season so it's been dismal all week, however that means there have been tons of birds hanging out. Per our contract, we aren't allowed to have a bird feeder (I think because the squirrels chew on the wood) but if I could I totally would.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> neglectment / rejection word count -> 1.9k

abstract -> all humans are the same... aren't they?

niki perspective 

I can’t believe I let those stupid people make me doubt her.

That was very stupid. But it was now the second day and she reassured me that I could quit anytime. I heard several whispers when I entered. They thought I would be punished and didn’t expect me to come back here unscathed.

“Doesn’t it make sense though? His owner never punishes him” I soon heard. Oh, how I loved her. “You're here?!” the dog hybrid said. “I was worried your owner must return or punish you,” he said and I smiled. “She isn’t like that. She said I did the right thing” I said happily and he was shocked.

“That's not how you’re supposed to act though! You’re supposed–” “Yeah I know but I promised her I wouldn't change because of these lessons. I'm just here to act properly at parties, that's it. Not because she’s forcing me,  don’t have to impress anybody” I said and he was confused. 

I know everyone would be different. I’m an exception. I have the best owner out of everyone. 

“You’re lucky,” he said and I smiled. “I know” 

I learned his name was Jake. He was recently rescued from the streets when he was abandoned very young. I don’t remember much of my life on the streets or prior. All I know is my life with her. 

The class was finished without anything wrong this time. Maybe I can convince her to go to the convenience store today. 

“Niki!” I heard and I scoffed. “Yah! It's Riki” I said as I saw the Hawk hybrid approach me. He was wearing designer clothes with a jeweled collar. “What do you want?” I asked and he scoffed. “I’m older than you. You should show me more respect,” he said and I rolled my eyes. “Hmm. What year are you Riki?” Jake asked and I answered with ‘2005’. 

“I’m older than you too!!” he said and I scoffed. “Our owners want us to be friends,” he said and I laughed. “Yeah right. y/n knows I’m not interested in making friends” I said and he clicked his tongue before grabbing the back of my collar. 

“Hey!!” I said as I tried pushing him off. “How do you get away with everything? I heard stories of what you’ve done and she still keeps you around?” he said and I scoffed. 

“She’s not like your owner!” I corrected and I would’ve had the nerve to scratch him away but… he was from that girl who seemed to have a good status that would get y/n in trouble. 

“Yah! Let him go” I heard and I saw the familiar overgrown tiger. “Who are you?” I heard him ask and he scoffed. “Someone who isn't scared to hurt the pretty little bird,” he said while the Hawk let me go. “Come on you’ve kept her waiting long enough,” he said and I followed Hongjoong. 

“There's no way you’re forcing me here,” the tiger told his owner and y/n laughed. 

“Hongjoong was sick of waiting,” she sighed and I chuckled. “Oh, Jay! e/n  asked me to watch you for today. She’ll pick you up tomorrow,” she said and I was confused. “What?!” I yelled and she smiled softly. 

“She’s on a trip right now. Her dad asked mine and here we are” she explained and I sighed. It was a request from him.

“No trouble today?” she asked me and I shook my head. “The black cat is bad luck y/nnie,” Hongjoong said and I glared. “It was worth a try,” Seonghwa said to her and she smiled. “Trust me Hongjoong. If Niki didn’t want to attend I wouldn't have him do it” she said and he smiled. “I know, he’s just stupid, '' he said and I glared at him. 

“Remember, for dinner you can’t say no,” Seonghwa said. Today was her monthly dinner with her friends AND she was babysitting the stupid hawk?!

 “y/n I wanted to go to the convenience store today,” I said, still wanting to stock up on snacks… especially if he's gonna be with us. “Niki, you should eat a proper meal tonight,” she said and I pouted. “You’re not even gonna be here which means the chef won't come by tonight,” I said and she sighed. 

“Fine you win”

jay’s perspective

Riki was a strange hybrid. He was wild and crazy… and had so many horror stories that the two were the talk of hybrid talk in gatherings.

y/n was just as maybe even more strange. She was the only child of a very wealthy businessman. Everyone wanted to be in her good graces… but the hybrid she owns doesn't match her personality. He’s too much trouble. 

Seeing her outside of the fancy clothes and jewelry though… She was the same as him. Both are childish despite their status. 

“That's not true, take it back!” he said as she shook her head trying not to laugh as they argued which is the best kimbap flavor. 

They already had a full basket and are now on their second. “Jay do you want anything?” she asked me and I shook my head. “Then starve tonight,” Riki said and y/n hit him playfully. “I’m going out tonight and there isn't much food at my apartment so please choose something,” she said. I had never eaten this kind of food before. 

Ramyeon… tteokbokki… frozen chicken? This is bad for my diet. 

“You’ve never had this type of food before have you?” Riki asked as y/n looked over the candy. “It's not a part of my food plan,” I said and he rolled his eyes. “Just get a ramyeon, kimbap, and ice cream and you're set, '' he said as I picked out one called buldak, a random kimbap flavor, and ice cream. I haven't had ice cream since I was in America. 

When she paid Riki still asked if we could get street food. She said yes and I was shocked at just how badly of a diet they had. Or that she even went along with his requests… he asked so carelessly. 

“I've been craving spicy fish cake,” y/n said “Ooh how about Mandu?” Riki suggested. “Ooh! And some chicken skewers!” y/n said and they grinned happily. 

What was this?

“Remember not too eat much. You still have to go to dinner” Riki said and she groaned. “I need street food. They’re planning on drinking” she said and he chuckled. “Be careful, okay?” he asked and she smiled softly and nodded. 

So he did care for her too? 

“Jay, are you sure you don’t want anything?” she asked and I shook my head. She looked disappointed with my response, causing the overgrown cat to roll his eyes. “Eat it, it'll be rude if you don’t,” he said as he handed me a chicken skewer. 

I've never tried Korean street food before… it was famous though amongst tourists and locals. I tried it and was surprised at how good it was. I regret not asking for one now…

Too bad it'll probably be my last time trying it…

We arrived when they dumped all the bags on the counter… they didn't even put it away. He didn’t even offer to help nor did she ask.“Niki showed Jay the guest room,” she said and he nodded as I followed him. It was a very spacious apartment… I don’t think it should even be called an apartment.

I saw my duffel bag. I’m glad she didn’t forget it this time… 

I didn’t know what to do now… stare at another wall I guess? Maybe sleep?

I heard laughing though…  I left my room to see the two putting stuff away. She was in a hoodie and sweatpants with a hair roller on her bangs. Riki is now in a shirt and sweats.

“Oh, Jay! You can use the TV by the way; it has many games. You can ask Niki how to use it” she said. Luckily, I have a PS5 for my entertainment at home. I wasn’t allowed to play certain games though…

“Buldak?” she said as I saw the ramen I chose. “That's Jay’s … he chose it,” Riki said and she nodded while putting it on the counter with the kimbap I chose. “We need to go grocery shopping,” she said and I was confused. “Why don't you have someone do that for you?” I asked and she chuckled. “Cause it's fun!” she said with a grin. “They won’t get us snacks otherwise,” Riki said. 

“Too many snacks are bad for you” I muttered. “y/n, he’s no fun” he whined and she chuckled. “Come on, quit being grumpy,” she said and he playfully huffed. 

“How long have you had Riki?” I asked and she smiled. “Uhm well I was seven and you were eight right Riki?” she asked and he nodded. “So twelve years! We celebrate every December 9 since we don’t know Niki’s exact birthday” she said.

Twelve years? That's such a long time… and only with each other?

“How about you?” she asked and I sighed. “Six months,” I said and she nodded. “Who’s been your longest owner?” she asked… so she did know how people like her were. “Two years,” I said and she sighed. 

“I hope you find a forever home,” she said with a sad smile. “Do you think if you didn’t meet Riki when he was young you’d keep him the way you do now?” I asked and she sighed. “Niki is my number one companion and my best friend. He’s not an object to be sold” she said, a little angry. 

Did I anger her?

“I can finish. Go get ready, yome-chan” he said and she nodded while she left. “Did I offend her?” I asked and he shook his head. “She’s just defensive on the topic,” he said as he put things away for her now. 

“That dog hybrid is right. You’re lucky to have her” I said and he looked at me with possessive eyes. “I’ll be given away soon,” I said and he sighed. “I know I am. She’s stuck with me whether she likes it or not” he muttered. “I think she likes it,” I said and he chuckled. 

There was silence afterward. 

I hate you, Riki. You have a life I would kill for. 

I soon noticed the strong scent of perfume that had faded before. She was in a red dress with the white fur coat she had the other day.

“You forgot this,” he said while pulling out her hair roller. “I’ll be out with Seonghwa, Wonyoung, NingNing, Chenle, and Yeosang,” she said and he nodded. “Pace yourself and eat well, okay?” he asked and she smiled. 

“Bye Nik, Bye Jay!!” she said while Niki helped put her heels and coat on while she left. “Is a bodyguard or a maid coming?” I asked and he shook his head. “No, we wait for when she comes back,” he said as he sat on the couch. 

“You look confused,” he said and I chuckled. “You’re like her friend… you're not even a hybrid for her,” I said and he shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll finally get someone to keep me like she does with you,” I said and he sighed when he paused his game.

“You won’t have that. Not with the social status you’ve been stamped with. Every one of those stuck-up kids does it to collect, brag, and dump you. They’ll repeat the cycle over and over again” he said now showing his distaste for humans. “What about y/n?” I asked. 

“I don't know… one day she might do the same” 

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[sematarygirls]

Living Dead Girl — Patrick Hockstetter.

part two

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader (descriptors such as beautiful and nicknames such as dollface, darling, ect, but no described features— ie. long hair, brown eyes)

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal abuse , graphic depictions of murder/gore , you being murdered (in third person) ��� , self image issues

word count : 5.5k (part one)

a/n : i don't know how accurate this is to patrick, but i tried to make him lack empathy and remorse and he can't exactly feel love— just obsession and fascination. also, i hc patrick as a lefty so do with that what you will.

Patrick had once again been feeling that familiar itch. It started subtlety this time, like a tickle from a weightless feather that blew lightly across his skin every so often, and it began to gradually grow.

He tried his best to satiate the hunger of the beast within, to scratch that itch in the same way he had so many times before— by killing the neighborhood pets.

But, it appeared this craving was a different kind altogether, for when he lit his lighter, allowing the aerosol to spray through the flame and fry the kitten until it was unrecognizable and it's shrill screams had died out, he felt nothing. There was no sense of relief, no satisfaction or even the small semblance of happiness— because Patrick truly couldn't feel such uplifting emotions.

There was just nothing.

Well, there was still that nagging itch.

It took some contemplation. Long nights staring up at the empty ceiling of his room, his right arm propped under his head while his left laid passively across his torso. How could he rid himself of this feeling?

He pondered that perhaps burning just didn't do it for him anymore. To test his theory, he tried many other options— drowning, suffocation, mutilation— he even, regrettably, attempted tasting the vile little creatures.

So, definitely not the method of torture because he was sure that if he hadn't even feeling so empty, those, with the exception of the last one, would have been a world of fun for him. Well then, maybe it was the animal!

Squirrels, cats, dogs, raccoons, lizards, frogs, birds— anything he could get his hands on became helpless victims in Patrick's reign of terror, but none of it helped.

That feeling began to grow until it took up every inch of his body. All he could think about was the kill. Even when he and his friends were torturing their pre-pubescent victims, images of blood and agonizing screams plagued his mind.

And that's when it hit him— he needed a human victim. One that brought real stakes to the equation, one that would get his adrenaline rushing at the idea of being caught.

Initially, it had been an idea. He hadn't planned to act on it... but then you came along, and god, you were just so perfect.

You ran into him, through no fault of your own. He had been walking down the wrong side of the hallway, and you were just coming around a corner, so he was in your blind spot.

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz," you chuckled lightly after you collided into his hard chest. You looked up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

As he stared down at you, he just knew that you were the one. You were so perfect. So beautiful. And it made him furious. He couldn't quite discern why, but the way your eyes sparkled with genuity and naivety caused a pit of red hot rage to build in his stomach.

But he couldn't act yet. He had to gain your trust. He had to ensure that he could get you into the woods by yourself so he could enact his plan and finally scratch that fucking itch.

"My fault, dollface," he spoke with a wide smile, attempting to be somewhat gentlemanly. "I wasn't paying attention." He gently clenched and released his fist as he watched you smile brightly. "I'm Patrick, Hockstetter," he introduced, leaning forward to tower over you in an attempt to be intimidating but in a way that could also come off as flirtatious.

"Ah, yes, the infamous Patrick Hockstetter, I presume?" You asked, your eyebrow arching slightly. There it was again. That anger. It had to have been your subtle cockiness, the way you weren't the least bit fearful of him even though his reputation clearly proceeded him.

"The very same," he smirked, leaning close to your ear. His breath lightly fanned the shell of your ear. "Why? Does my reputation scare you? Do I scare you?"

You let out a light chuckle. "No." It was a simple answer, and yet Patrick still found himself having to cling to that feeling on his skin, the one he desperately wanted to be rid of, to ensure that he didn't snap right at that second.

For some bizarre reason, in your presence, Patrick felt utterly powerless, which was a very foreign feeling to him. He had always been calm and calculated, except for when he was alone with his projects, so to be so out of control of his emotions just added to his resentment toward you.

"You should be," he replied ominously before turning and walking away from you in long, precise strides. He let his smirk fall and his lip curl up in disgust as he felt your eyes on his back the whole way down the hallway.

It had been such a simple interaction, and yet it had left you completely and utterly captivated. You should have been afraid of him. You'd known of his tendency for him and his friends to terrorize younger kids, and of course, you had heard the whispers of what he did when he thought no one was around, but those were just rumors... right?

Either way, you were intrigued by Patrick and wanted to see him again.

The next time you two had met, you were walking home. You lived above your parent's old record store in the town square, which was extremely convenient for you because it meant all the stores, the arcade, and school were just a short walk away. The record shop had been your grandfather's before it became your mother's, and soon it would be yours.

You were coming up on the arcade, and as you approached, you hesitated. Should you go inside? Your parents were expecting you home, but it was Friday, so they'd be okay with you going out for a bit, right?

As you contemplated, a blue Trans Am pulled up next to you, and a voice called out to you. "Y/N!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind registered the familiarity of the voice. It sounded like Patrick, but it couldn't be because you had never told him your name. You turned, eyes widening slightly in surprise as your gaze met Patrick, who was hanging with half his body out the window of the car. In the passenger's seat, Henry was staring forward, a bored and slightly irritated look on his face.

"Hockstetter?" You asked with a grin. "I don't remember telling you my name."

"You didn't," he replied, sending a grin of his own your way.

"Did you ask around about me?" You teased, your eyebrows raising slightly as you gave him a playful look.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "Still not scared of me?" He asked, placing the palms of his hands on the door to push his upper half out the window toward you.

"Hmm," you looked up and to the side, pretending to think for a moment. "Nah," you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Well, in that case," he drawled out. "You wanna go out with me tomorrow night?"

"You bringing your posse?" You asked, nodding your head to the three other teens in the car that had undoubtedly been listening in on your conversation.

"Why? Do you want them to come?" He asked suggestively. "I mean, I didn't know you were into that, but if you insi-"

"Stop! Stop!" You laughed, clamping your hand over his mouth. He looked you dead in the eye, and for a moment, you were so hypnotized by his eyes that you didn't realize the wet sensation of his tongue flicking across your palm. "Ugh!" You shrieked in disgust with a small laugh. "Gross."

"So?" He asked, his eyebrows raising. "Whatdya say?" He grinned his Cheshire cat grin, and you couldn't help but relent.

"Okay," you said softly with a little nod. "Yeah, I'll go out with you."

"Great," he smirked, doing a little drum solo on the door in, what appeared to be excitement. "I'll pick you up at 8." You nodded, not able to contain your huge smile as he tried to awkwardly pull himself back into the car. "Oh," he said, sticking his head out the window a bit. "And wear white." Before you could question him, he sent you a wink, and then, the car was off speeding down the street.

You began to absent-mindedly walk the rest of the way home, all plans of going to the arcade having fled your mind, replaced with the thought of going on a date with Patrick. Your first date!

You really didn't know what he saw in you. He was so charming and handsome, and you were just... you. You weren't exceptionally attractive like Shelly Benson and Daniel Klein or outrageously popular like Greta Bowie and Jackson Pines. You were smart in subjects you enjoyed and not as smart in one's you weren't, and you had average social skills but never really made friends, just acquaintances.

You were just normal.

And so you stood, staring at yourself in the mirror as you examined every inch of your outfit, desperately trying to look less like yourself. You sighed in frustration, running a hand through your hair with a huff as you turned around, refusing to look at yourself any longer.

Your room was your safe space. The walls were covered in posters of your favorite bands, celebrities, and movies. You wondered what it felt like to be so effortlessly flawless as you stared around at all the beautiful people littering your walls.

Aside from the posters, your room was quite cohesive. You had chosen an excellent set of neutrals to pair with your accent color (which was your favorite color, of course), and it created a very attractive and appealing color pallet.

The sound of a knock on the apartment door made you snap out of your admiration of your room. Leave it to you to critique your artistic excellence when you're on a time crunch.

You took one last look in the mirror before taking a breath and exiting your room. You proceeded down the hall and through the living room. With one last mental reassurance, you turned the knob and opened the door.

Patrick had been practicing and planning his moves precisely. He had to shower you with compliments and be completely polite. It would let your guard down, and that's when he could strike.

The door opened, and Patrick's gaze fell on you. Even he had to admit, you were undoubtedly attractive, but it wasn't companionship he was after. It was relief.

So, putting on his best show, he opened his mouth as if he was going to speak before closing it and giving you a once over, trying his best to seem in awe of you.

"Wow," he breathed with an awkward chuckle. "You look," he let out a puff of air, motioning to you as if he couldn't find the words. "I mean- you look perfect."

He watched in satisfaction as you smiled sheepishly, gaze averting to the ground. "Thank you," you replied. You looked back up and playfully said: "And you don't look too bad yourself," in an attempt to play it cool, but Patrick could see right through you. You were falling for his charm, and how could you not?

He was a God, after all.

"So," you asked, stepping out of your apartment and shutting the door behind you. "Where are we going this fine evening?"

"Well," Patrick started, placing his hand flat on your lower back as you two walked down to the record shop on the first floor. "I know this perfect spot in the woods away from town-" You gave him a concerned look, and he chuckled lightly at your fear. "I know how it sounds, but there's a firepit me and the boys set up out there, and it has a great view of the stars because there's no light pollution out there."

You bit the inside of your cheek, and Patrick felt his pulse begin to quicken. It seemed like you were going to back out. Should he have told you? Or just let you panic when they got there?

"Okay," you nodded, turning to him with a smile as you made up your mind. "I don't love the idea of a first date in the woods, but I'm like 99% sure you're not an axe murderer or anything, so," you trailed off.

Patrick gave you a wolfish grin. Oh, if only you knew that he was a predator and you were his prey— so innocent and oblivious to the things that the night had in store for you.

The two of you walked out of the store, and Patrick read the shocked look on your face as you saw Belch's Trans Am, which was then followed by discomfort and then relief when you noticed his friends hadn't accompanied him.

"Took some convincing, but I got Belch to let me borrow Amy," Patrick said proudly as he took one long stride forward and opened the car door for you.

"He named his car?" You asked with a little giggle as you climbed into the passenger's seat. "That's cute."

"Yup, although cute isn't the word I'd use," Patrick replied before shutting the door and walking around to the driver's side.

"And what word would you use?" You asked, amusement coating your tongue and dancing in your eyes.

"Demented," he said, giving you a look as he started the car. It was ironic coming from him, and he knew it. If anyone was demented, it was the pyromaniac freak who killed animals and was tricking a girl into thinking he liked her when really he was taking her to the woods to kill her.

"That's interesting coming from someone with such a," you paused, for a moment, thinking for the right word. "Colorful reputation."

"Touché," he shrugged, pulling out of the spot he was parked in and continuing down the road to the woods. The car settled in an awkward silence as neither of you really knew what to say. Patrick knew he should ask you questions and engage with you, but to be honest, he didn't really care about what you had to say.

"Let's see what Belch has in his glove compartment," you said with a grin. Patrick's blood began to boil again. Not because you were invading Belch's privacy— he quite liked that part, actually. No one was ever allowed to look in the glove compartment. In fact, he had specifically told Patrick not to and that he would know if he did, and now Patrick could satisfy his curiosity while blaming it on his date.

No, his blood was boiling because of how casual you were. Most people would ask a stupid question to fill the silence or just sit in it, but you found a way to light heartedly and nonchalantly attempt to start a conversation. It was Infuriating to him how different you were.

Patrick considered himself an expert on human behavior. After all, it was his world, and everyone else were pawns, so growing up, he had to learn about people. He had to pick up on their little habits and understand why people did certain things so he could manipulate them and use them as playthings.

But you were different, and that's what infuriated him so much. You were still plenty easy to manipulate, but you had little quirks and ways of doing things that he'd picked up on that went against his understanding of the human condition.

You were defective, and that's why he had to get rid of you. You weren't normal. You weren't a plaything or a pawn.

You were a threat.

Patrick glanced over at you, watching for a moment as you rummaged through the glove compartment.

"Eyes on the road, pretty boy," you said absent-mindedly. "I don't plan to die tonight, and especially not at the hands of you." This made him internally smile. That was the second reference you'd made tonight of him hurting you and each time you had been wrong. You were going to die tonight— a very painful death— and the blood would be on his hands.

"He has got a lot of tapes in here," you observed aloud, pushing things around a bit more before a gasp left your lips. Patrick looked over again as you pulled out a pink piece of paper with a red lipstick stain in the shape of lips and a message in a hot pink sparkly pen that read: I really enjoyed tonight. We should do it again sometime =).

"No fucking way," Patrick said in shock, a laugh leaving his lips as he registered what he was seeing. "I can't believe that fat fuck actually gets bitches."

"Hey," you scolded, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Don't be mean," you defended. "I think it's really sweet, and clearly, he knew you'd be an ass about it," you rolled your eyes. "He really tried to hide it in there."

Patrick turned the car into a little dirt road and parked. He knew no one would be out there that late, so the car wouldn't be seen. "Here we are," he announced before climbing out and making his way to the passenger's side to open your door.

"Don't take this the wrong way," you started as you got out of the car. "But I did not expect you to be such a gentleman." Your eyes followed Patrick as he grabbed a blanket out of the backseat and tucked it underneath his right arm before approaching you.

"Well," he said, linking your arm in his left one. "I don't usually care what people think," he confessed, one of the few true things he'd actually said to you, but of course, he was about to follow it up with a lie. "But with you, it's different." He looked over at you, only to find you staring. If he wasn't making an attempt at faking vulnerability right now, he would have smirked at how enamored you were by his words.

"And why is that?" You asked quietly, hypnotized by the way the darkness created shadows on his face that seemed to define it so well. Almost as if the darkness suited him better, which was odd considering usually the light was more well-defining to people.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met, and I don't want to scare you away," he professed, his voice seeming genuinely sincere, but obviously, that wasn't the case.

"That's quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," you said sheepishly, a soft smile falling upon your lips. You both walked in silence for a moment, the cruching of leaves and the chirping of crickets ringing through the vast area. "Wow," you breathed out, eyes glued to the sky. "You were right. The stars look amazing out here."

"Told you," Patrick grinned before unlocking your arms and advancing forward. You two had reached a clearing, and he was approaching the firepit in the middle. Surrounding the firepit, which was clearly homemade as the stones surrounding it were just stacked on top of each other haphazardly, were various random chairs and a long bench that looked surprisingly comfortable.

"This place looks cozy," you said, eyes sweeping over the area. A chill ran down your spine as a breeze blew through the clearing. The air seemed to grow thick, and something in your gut told you to run— leave now and never look back.

You would soon wish you listened to that feeling.

Instead, you walked forward, taking a seat on the bench as Patrick doused the wood inside the firepit with lighter fluid before grabbing a lighter from his pocket and setting it ablaze.

A wave of warmth fell over you as the clearing lit up gold. Patrick straightened up and came to sit beside you on the bench. You were so focused on examining your surroundings that you didn't notice Patrick carefully grab the knife that he'd hidden inside the folded blanket and tuck it under his leg before unfolding the blanket and placing it across you both.

"So," you grinned, finally looking over at him. "Do you bring all your conquests here?"

"Just the hot ones," he smirked. You rolled your eyes, laughing at his remark. "No, but seriously," he let his smirk fall into a soft smile. "You're the only one."

You looked into his eyes and couldn't sense any deception. God, those beautiful eyes. You didn't didn't think they were capable of telling a lie.

They say eyes are the windows to the soul, but Patrick didn't have a soul, so his eyes were more like mirrors, reflections of what he knew people wanted to see when they sought out answers to questions that were better left unsaid.

You stared at each other, the air growing thick with tension as the urge to kiss him overwhelmed you. Your faces slowly inched closer together. "Patrick," you whispered, a wanting evident in your voice.

He reached up to cup your face with his right hand as his left carefully, discretely retrieved the knife from under his leg. He moved his face in, and you were sure he was going to kiss you.

But instead, he moved to the right, his mouth next to your ear as he plunged the knife he had deep into your stomach. You let out a choked cry of surprise and pain as your mind raced with a million thoughts at once, all of them so loud that you couldn't think rationally at all.

"Aw, Y/N," Patrick said darkly, feigning disappointment as he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "I told you that you should've been afraid of me."

He pulled away, twisting the knife to create irreparable damage before pulling it out. He watched as you cried out in pain, hand clutching your stomach in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

"But you were too pathetic," he spat. He ran the bloodied knife across your cheek, slicing it open before pushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just a desperate little whore."

"Why?" You sobbed, tears streaming down your face from the burning pain. Blood began pouring out of your mouth due to the damage to your internal organs, and you knew you were going to die.

"Because I wanted to," he replied with a crazed grin, his tone of voice indicating that he believed it was the most obvious thing in the world. You had never been more fearful than you were now. Not just because you were dying, bleeding out in front of a boy you thought liked you, but because of the look in Patrick's eyes.

They were devoid of any emotion, as if killing someone didn't matter to him at all. You would have even preferred for him to look like he enjoyed it; that's how disturbing his absence of emotion was to you.

Patrick sat there and watched as you bled out before him. The glossed over, far away look in your eyes made his whole body ignite. It just felt so good.

Finally, the itching was gone, and he could live in peace for a little while more. He sat on the bench beside your lifeless body for awhile more, relishing in the feeling of freedom; it had been so long since he had felt that. When he was fully satisfied, he began cleaning up. He threw the blanket in the still burning fire before running back to Belch's car to grab the shovel he'd brought.

Sweat clung to him, sticking his shirt to his chest as he dug the hole where your body would lie. It seemed to take hours, and the feeling of sweating but also being cold was very unpleasant, but finally, he got the hole dug.

He threw the bloody knife inside and grabbed your body, picking you up bridal style and hauling you over to the hole. He dropped your corpse carelessly into your makeshift grave and didn't give you a second thought before he began shoveling the dirt back into the hole.

When he was finished, he walked back to the Trans Am, wrapping the dirty shovel in the other blanket he had brought so no dirt would get into the trunk of Belch's car. And, no one would question dirt in the driver's seat of a teen boy's car, so he wasn't overly worried about his dirtied hands and jeans.

For weeks, Patrick felt amazing. It was the longest Patrick had ever gone without feeling the compulsion to kill. Of course, he still tortured small animals, but that was for fun rather than necessity.

But then he started to see you.

At first, it was just glimpses. Like, when he was brushing his teeth, he'd lean down to spit out his toothpaste, but when he straightened himself out, there you were— standing beside him, blood staining your clothes and the cut on your cheek that he had gave you still fresh. But then, once he blinked, your figure was gone.

He would see you around like that sometimes, not frequent enough to cause concern that he was gaining a conscience. Just enough for him to think he was suffering from a bit of sleep deprivation.

He wasn't worried about being caught. The police hadn't found your body, and when he was questioned as to what happened that night on your date, he said that the two of you had planned to go out to the woods, but on the way there, you two got into an argument because you had been snooping through Belch's things and you got so furious that you demanded to be let out of the car right then and there. Belch, of course, backed this story up because he could tell someone had disturbed his glove compartment.

Soon enough, however, you began to haunt his dreams as well. He would have terrible nightmares of you coming back from the dead and murdering him in cold blood, just as he had done to you, and then, when he awoke, you were standing in the corner of his room.

It wasn't just his brain making shapes out of things to scare him. It was you. He could see clear as day; the moonlight illuminated your face, your once innocent and naive eyes now staring at him with hate and malice.

Patrick Hockstetter didn't believe in ghosts, but he believed in you.

"Dude, what's your fuckin deal?" Henry asked, snapping Patrick out of his thoughts. Patrick looked over at Henry from his spot, splayed out on the hood of Belch's car, which he had objected to until Patrick threatened him. The four boys were hanging around at the quarry, drinking beer as music blasted through Amy.

"What?" Patrick questioned, hostility lacing his voice. Who did Henry think he is speaking to him like that?

"You're not even listening, man," Henry complained, attempting to throw a crumpled up beer can at him but missing.

"Maybe because you fuckers don't have anything interesting to say," Patrick shrugged, looking to his left at the water and tuning their conversation out again.

You had been on his mind non-stop. All he could think about was your eyes. They were so real. That look of hate— he had seen it before in his mother and father after he killed his little brother Avery. He couldn't have imagined that so vividly.

"Do I scare you?" A familiar voice asked, voice a mere whisper as a breeze tickled his ear. He quickly turned and saw you. You were sitting right next to him on the hood of Belch's car, and this time, he was sure he wasn't imagining it. You were there in broad daylight. He had heard you. He had felt your breath across his ear.

But how was this even possible.

"What the fuck!" He shouted, genuine fear in his voice. He felt something he had never felt before as he tried to shuffle away from you, but there was nowhere left to go, so he ended up falling off the car and onto the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" Victor asked, his eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as he registered the panic and fear— he had never seen Patrick exhibit such emotions, and he could tell by the look in Patrick's eye that they were not fake.

Patrick couldn't hear Vic over the sound of your laugh. It was so loud, deafening even, and it made his ears ring. You hopped off the car and walked toward him slowly with a sickening grin.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked, scrambling backward, pebbles and rocks digging into his palms as he tried to escape you.

"Because," she stepped forward, leaning down and grabbing his faded yellow Tom and Jerry t-shirt by the collar. He felt her grab him. It was all real. "I can," she spat viciously. And just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.

"Are you alright, man?" Belch asked, genuine concern lacing his voice as his brows knitted together. Why had his friend been acting so strange?

"I-I need to get out of here," Patrick spoke quickly as he rushed to his feet, dusting off his clothes and looking around frantically.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Henry cackled, taking a long sip of his beer. Patrick gave him a hard, warning glare that confused Henry. What did he do?

Patrick took off running into the forest, driven by a pure, unbridled fear as he tried to escape you, but the faster he ran, the louder your laugh became. It echoed all around him. It was everywhere and nowhere all at once. He clamped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

And then, just like that, it stopped. He slowly opened his eyes and removed his hands from his ears, peering around the woods. He heaved a sigh of relief as he realized it was over.

It wasn't real.

You weren't real.

He took his time walking back home, stopping and tormenting a few animals on his way to relieve some of the stress that had built up from the games his mind had played on him.

By the time he arrived home, the sun had long disappeared below the horizon, replaced by the luminous glow of the full moon. He pushed the front door open, kicking his muddy boots off by the front door before shrugging his leather jacket off and tossing it onto the floor.

"Ma!" He called into the oddly silent house. He advanced forward, his eyebrow arching as he didn't get a response. "Ma, I'm home!" He tried again, still no answer. He continued through the house into the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat.

As his eyes scanned the kitchen, a tiny post-it note stuck to the fridge caught his attention. He took two long strides and ended up in front of it. Grabbing it off the fridge, his eyes scanned it.

Gone to see your father. Be back in a few days. I left some lasagna in the fridge for you to heat up and some money on the table for pizza or something in case you eat all of it.

Love, Mom

Patrick scoffed, crumpling the post-it into a ball and tossing it into the trash. Patrick's father was arrested for attempted murder when Patrick was young.

After Patrick killed his brother Avery, his father went mad and tried to kill Patrick. He claimed that Patrick was evil, and the world needed to be rid of him. Fortunately for Patrick, his mother still loved him (he had no idea why she still did after what he had done), and she called the police.

The paramedics arrived in time, and Patrick was saved. Though the attack did leave a raised scar on his stomach that never went away.

Patrick pulled a plate out of the top cupboard and a fork out of the drawer before opening up the fridge. He grabbed a can of Coke and the large glass dish with lasagna out. Deciding he didn't feel like waiting for it to heat up, he just used his fork to pick the pre-portioned slice of lasagna out of the dish and drop it onto his plate before sliding the rest back into the fridge for later.

Grabbing his beverage and dinner, he began making his way up the creaky steps that led to the second floor.

The carpet that had previously adorned it had been ripped up when his mom was having one of her overly energized and productive moments, so staples and other sharp objects stuck up from the dirty wood. He was careful to avoid them.

He reached the door at the end of the hall with a yellow sign that read DO NOT ENTER and swung the door open.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

Tags : @fatfagsj @brokenloverr24

[lucywritesagain]

I wouldn't say no

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈﹕Loki masterlist ꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱ Navigation ﹕┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Please note that this story is a repost from my old blog @lucywrites02.

Summary: Loki pays you a visit, saying that Bubbles- his cat- may be allergic to Thor. Is Loki serious or is it another excuse to hang out with you?

Word count: 0.7k

“You again?”

That was the way you greeted Loki as you walked into your office- a few folders under your arm and a box of medical gloves in the other. Your white coat flew behind you with every step like a cape, making you feel like in a movie. In all those years working as a vet it had never gotten bored.

“It’s nice to see you, too.” The trickster replied with a playful smile.

“What seems to be the problem, buddy?” You leaned over the table and gently patted your little friend’s head who purred in approval. “Why did your dad bring you here this time?”

“I think he’s allergic to Thor.” Loki said.

“Ha, that’s a good one!” You giggled, but stopped when you noticed their dead serious expression. “That’s a joke, right? Tell me you’re joking.”

“Why would I?” The god put his hands in the pockets of his dark blue jeans- something they didn’t wear often. “I noticed that Bubbles acts differently every time my brother visits.”

You weren't sure if it was a prank or if Loki really thought his cat could be allergic to his brother. The first time you met the god they barged into your office right before closing because the cat he just adopted was sleeping too much and refused to leave until you explained to him how the cat's body worked in great detail. You found it sweet how much Loki cared about that little creature and how eager they were to learn more. And what better way to learn than to take your information from the professionals? The second time they visited was to give Bubbles his vaccines and make a file for him. One time Loki ran into your office while you were in the middle of examining Clair- a beautiful ball python who has been your patient since the day she hatched- just to tell you that Bubbles made a chirping noise while watching birds and if it was normal for a cat to do this.

“Different? How?” You straighten your back, giving all your attention to the trickster.

“He’s really affectionate with Thor and he always hated people”

“Let me get this clear-” you had to hold your laugh for Loki’s sake. You were a professional after all and Loki- although a friend- was still your client. “You think Bubbles is sick because he likes Thor?”

“Obviously.”

“Alright.” You sighed and put on a new pair of gloves. You pretended to examine your little friend, feeling Loki’s eyes on you. Thankfully Bubbles was a very brave patient and you never had much problems with him. He even let you touch his belly. That’s why instead of looking for the cause of the cat’s ‘unusual behaviour’ you just tickled him here and there- which he really liked.

“If you wanted to ask me out you could have just said so. Or you could always just call me.” You have my number.” You broke the silence while still giving all of your attention to Bubbles, who happily flipped on his back, demanding belly scratches.

“I’m not- that’s not-” The god of mischief stuttered, suddenly taking an interest in that one picture of your dog on the wall. You have figured out his little plan and that was just embarrassing to him.

“I wouldn’t say no.” You smiled, looking directly at Loki who was still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Pardon?” The god asked, surprised.

“If you asked me out I wouldn’t say no.” You left Loki speechless. Their heart was beating like crazy and his mind was completely empty. “You know how much I love it when you and Bubbles pay me a visit every 2 hours, but I have other patients waiting for me so….”

“Oh yes, that’s-” The god took his cat into his arms and awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, thinking about their next move. “So if I asked whether you had time for dinner tonight you wouldn’t say no?” The god of mischief asked, still unsure of your answer.

“Only if you pay.”

“I guess it’s a date then.” Loki opened the door to finally exit your office. Their heart was still beating fast and almost stopped when you said-

“I guess it is.”

[dominimoonbeam]

The Other Way

To @ejunkiet, my beloved.

A David/Angel slight au. The meet cute in the woods.

 The Other Way

Angel hated hiking.

Why had they even agreed to this?

Okay, that was easy to answer. They hadn’t agreed, it had been a team building work thing and it was bullshit! And honestly, they’d been all for it and having a great time right up until they realized they were lost.

At first, they hadn’t exactly admitted to themselves that they were lost but now it was becoming unavoidable. The sun was setting and it was getting cold.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Angel whispered every time they held their phone up to stare at that no service symbol. Fucked, that’s what they were! Fucked!

A branch broke and something whined.

Angel spun toward it, clutching their phone tightly to their chest and staring into the trees. “Hello?”

Oh, that was great. Real smart.

Another whine.

Angel jumped back a step, eyes feeling like they might pop out of their head any second. “Is someone there?”

Of course, no one was there! That was clearly an animal sound!

But it was a hurt animal sound…

They had to see if it was okay, didn’t they?

No! Of course, they shouldn’t do that! What if it was a bear or something and ate them!

What if it wasn’t a bear and they could help?

What if it was a bear but they still could help?

They had a responsibility to try!

Or did they?

Angel thought this whole situation was definitely the fault of their boss. They should never have been put in the wilderness to make these decisions! They were a city person! And if they saw a lost dog or a cat in a tree or a bird with a broken wing they sure as shit did something about it.

Was this different?

“Oh fuck,” Angel exhaled, pocketed their useless phone, and inched forward through the trees.

They quickly came up on the base of a rocky slope, a ledge of more trees far above, and there, on the ground, was a dog.

Angel hurried closer at that familiar shape pulling at their heartstrings, and then stopped short when they were close enough to realize this was absolutely not a dog.

They’d never seen a wolf before and certainly never imagined they could get this big.

It whined and twitched, legs curling in and scratching at the ground as he tried to get up.

Angel exhaled soothing sounds, inching closer. “Woah, okay… take it easy,” they tried in their gentlest voice.

The big canine jerked, panting, one eye lulling to the side to look at them.

His eyes were so yellow. Angel stopped again, hands out as if they needed to show this wolf with their palms that they meant no harm.

He huffed and tried to get up again, almost managing it before falling down again, one of his front legs clearly broken.

“Hey, take it easy,” Angel said, pulling their backpack of and squatting beside his head. He was big. Really big. Way too big to be normal. Angel pulled out their water bottle. “If I had cell service out here I could google what to do about your leg… For now, here,” they emptied their bag on the ground and then used the waterproof lining to create a bowl out of it, pouring all the water from the bottle in right by the wolf’s snout.

It looked at them again and Angel could have sworn it was scrutinizing them. Were wolves always this expressive? They got the sense he was judging them… But then he huffed and lapped up the water.

Angel smiled, relieved, and sat cross-legged beside him. They tried to pet him, but he rumbled a clear snarl, so they stopped.

They grabbed the candy bars they’d packed for lunch and unwrapped one, holding it out toward the wolf’s muzzle.

It eyed them again and they were definitely sure he was judging them now. “It’s all I have. I didn’t exactly know I’d find you.” They waved the candy close to his mouth.

He snapped at it, taking the whole them in a smooth snatch and twist. Like he knew exactly how a wrapper worked and how to leave it behind in their grip. His teeth were huge! Angel laughed excitedly. “Wow! You’re big!”

The wolf actually snorted and then whined and dropped its head down again, like this had been too much effort right now.

Angel nodded. “You sleep. I’ll keep watch for help.”

The wolf didn’t snort this time but it didn’t try to leave either.

Angel ate a candy bar and tried to think of a way to get them help. Eventually someone should come looking for them… They really were important at their company. They couldn’t see their boss just ditching them out there…

About an hour later it was dark and cold. Angel hugged their knees and watched the stars. “Tomorrow will be better,” they told the wolf, teeth clattering.

It stirred enough to huff, which sounded like a wolfy “yeah right” if ever they’d heard one.

And then the wolf moved a little, whining at the effort but settling it’s head closer to them, against their side. Angel froze for long seconds, expecting it to growl at them for the contact even though he had initiated it. There was no growling, just that deep even breathing of sleep and the warmth radiating off that thick fur. Angel leaned closer and closer, until they were pressed against the side of the wolf’s neck, their cheek to its shoulder and their body pressed in as close as they could get.

When they woke up, it was morning.

The wolf huffed and tried to get up again, almost managed this time and growled angrily when it didn’t.

“You’re getting better!” Angel said when he seemed discouraged.

The wolf bared teeth but didn’t snarl, head on its paws again.

Angel fed it another candy bar.

“We might need more water soon… I think there was a stream… That way?” they said, trying to decide which way they had seen a stream. The wolf looked dubious. Angel put their empty water bottle in their bag. “I bet I can find it…”

He rumbled, clearly uncertain of this plan.

Before Angel could get up, a string of howls echoed far away from the woods on the ridge above. It was so faint, but it was there and the wolf lifted his big head to try to see up the cliffside.

It tried to howl, the sound caught in its throat before it seemed to give up and drop its head again, eyes shut and breathing labored.

That must be his pack.

Angel cupped their hands to their mouth and howled as loud and as best as they could up toward the trees at the top of that ridge.

The wolf’s yellow eyes flung open and his head jerked to the side to stare at them.

Angel did it again and they both waited.

Nothing.

Angel sighed and got up. “Okay. I’m going to go… that way, and look for the stream. I’ll be back.”

The wolf rumbled.

Angel started walking but only got a couple steps.

“It’s the other way, dumbass!” a gruff, strained voice snapped.

Angel jumped, almost falling down in their surprise as they spun back around.

The wolf was gone.

GONE.

There was a man laying on the ground in the same spot, a broken arm to his chest and the side of his face bruised.

“What. The. Fuck!” Angel gasped out.

He rolled his eyes, wincing as he tried to sit up. “You have got to be the stupidest person I have ever met!”

“Excuse you?” Angel snapped, clutching the straps of their bag and marching those few steps back to him. He was a big man. He had been a big wolf. Really? Really!? Yes. “Fuuuuck. I’ve lost my mind.”

“Oh, I think you lost it way before you found me. I can’t believe you tried to pet me.”

“You… You…”

“I could have fucking killed you! What if I’d been an actual wild animal? Are you insane?”

“You were hurt!”

“I could have killed you!”

“But you didn’t!”

They stared at each other.

Angel frowned at the state of him. He looked a lot more banged up as a person than a wolf. “So…You fell?”

“Obviously,” he snapped.

Angel nodded. Of course, he was pissy, his arm was definitely broken. They stood there awkwardly for another second and then took a step back. “Okay, so… I’m going to go look for water and—”

“Wrong. Way.” He ground out.

Angel blinked.

He looked up at them again and then pointed with his good arm in the other direction. “The stream is that way.”

Angel smiled sheepishly and shuffled in that direction. “Okay. Cool. Be right back… What-What was your name again?”

He cringed and laid back down. They weren’t sure if he was in pain physically or if this was his dramatic mental anguish, either way they decided to let him have it. He was clearly having a worse time of things than they were. “I didn’t tell you. Fucking covert… If I die I guess it won’t be my problem anyway…”

Angel waited while he grumbled to himself.

“David.”

Angel smiled. It was a surprisingly normal name for a wolf person. They inched closer, pulled out their last candy bar, and put it next to him. He glared. He really did look a lot the same as he had as a wolf… “In case you get hungry or… you know…”

“In case you get lost again and can’t find me?” His voice pitched in shock as he said it.

Angel shrugged. They were just turning to go when he grabbed their leg. They looked down, marveling at the size of his hand wrapped around their ankle. And then they heard it, that low growling.

“Don’t move,” he said, voice low and just above a whisper.

A wolf stepped from the trees, followed by another to the left.

Angel blinked. “Are they… like you?” they whispered, but felt their stomach dropping in a way that told them they weren’t that lucky. These wolves were smaller than he had been. Three more came into view, lips curled and teeth bared, something about it making tears prick Angel’s eyes. “Oh shit…”

David growled, the sound far from human.

Angel felt like there was a weight on their chest, pressing hard, squeezing tears and air out of them.

He still had his hand around their leg, the squeeze solid but not bruising. His hand slid up, past their knee, to their thigh. He pulled them back, until they were shuffling around his side and he was letting go to push them behind him. He struggled to his feet, one arm still curled to his side.

The wolves snapped, moving closer.

Angel’s back hit the rock wall.

David shifted right in front of them and their mind tried to absorb the image of a man turning into a wolf. He snapped massive jaws and for an instant the wolves flinched back, startled, but he staggered with that broken leg and what looked like broken ribs too. Still he snarled, like yes, he was hurt, but no he wasn’t going to let them get past him.

Angel wasn’t sure if it was a bluff or not. They weren’t sure it mattered.

And then, just when two of the wolves were about to lunge in on him, a third aiming to dart around at Angel, a massive brown wolf surged in from the side, slamming into the one that had been aiming for Angel and snatching one of the others by the neck.

Angel held their breath, unblinking as two wolves descended on that whole pack, breaking up their hope of a meal in a matter of seconds and sending them all running.

David shifted into human again, knees hitting the ground with a grunt of pain.

The brown wolf that had shown up first cast a glance between him and Angel before shifting into a man too, catching David by the shoulders to steady him. “Hang on, big guy. We found you.” He looked at Angel again, smirking. “And you found…”

Angel perked up, scrubbing the tears from their face. “I found him,” they corrected.

The third wolf shifted too, coming over to kneel beside David and get a look at the damage.

“I’m Asher,” the standing one said, smiling.

David groaned. “Don’t introduce yourself! They’re a fucking covert disaster already…”

Angel ignored him, stepping up and offering their hand and their name.

Asher took it with the hand not propping up his friend. “Were you the one howling?”

Angel grinned. “You heard me?” They tapped at David’s back. “See! It worked! I saved you!”

David growled. “You did not.”

“They kind of did…” the third wolf begrudgingly mumbled. “Your arm is broken and so are your ribs. Do you want me to get a healer out here or do you think you can make it back to the road if we carry you?”

“There are healers?” Angel started bouncing but stopped when it made them feel lightheaded.

Asher’s gaze flicked over them curiously. “You’re a hiker?”

“I’m lost,” Angel explained.

David snorted like it was an understatement.

Angel laughed. “Screw you, dude, you’re lucky I got lost. I saved you!”

David groaned. “I don’t care if you throw me over your shoulder, Milo, just get me the fuck out of here.”

The one next to him, Milo, smiled like he was trying not to. “With those ribs, it’s more likely to be bridal style, boss…”

“What about them?” Asher asked, still looking at Angel. Why was he staring like that? It wasn’t a scary stare or a creepy stare…

“Leave them,” David grumped.

Asher smiled. “They’re about to faint…”

David swung around to stare up at Angel.

Angel blinked back, white spots in their vision. “No, I’m not.” The white spots grew and their stomach felt all jellylike.

The last thing they saw was panic on David’s face. “Asher!” he yelled and just as their legs gave out, the other man stepped in and caught them.

[thatonewatching]

Creeps with animals

Feat: Eyeless Jack, 'Ticci' Toby, Jeff t.K, Hoodie/Brian, Masky/Tim, Laughing Jack, BEN Drowned, and Helen Otis/Bloody Painter.

BEN: Prefers lizards and insects but isn't opposed to loving bunnies and cats. Definitely researches different bugs and has a whole little notebook about them. Takes scary care of his pets and will go feral if you mess with them without his permission. Will talk your ear off about it if you let him shamelessly. Specifically likes to stick bugs the most. He collects small bugs he finds around the mansion and keeps them in jars. Names the bugs. Pet rabbit. Has jars of fireflies but lets them go after like two or three nights.

"Ben, what the hell is this?" you asked, grabbing the small buzzing jar. He hummed slightly, turning around, yet his eyes didn't leave his game until he was facing you completely. "Don't touch that!" he cried, snatching the glass from your grasp. "Okay, but what is it?" you repeated, crossing your arms over your chest with a chuckle. "His name is Greggley," he answered, placing the jar back on its high shelf. "I'm sorry, his name is fucking what?"

Eyeless Jack: Cat guy. Need I say more? has like eight fucking cats he found. Is way overprotective of them. Names them shit that will correlate to how he acquired them. Like, if he found them chasing a bird, their name would be some shit like "Birdie" or "Hunter" because it's cute. They claw at him like a scratching post, and you cannot convince me otherwise. He no longer wears shorts because of them. Gives them toys but is fully aware they will not be used. Can fit two in each hand. "You're not allergic to fur, are you?" Jack inquired. You shook your head quietly, a no. "Good,' he muttered. Opening the door, multiple cats rushed to him, rubbing against his legs and letting out loud meows. "Hello, princess!" he cooed, picking up a chubby calico. He rested the cat over his shoulder, beginning to pet its back. "Such a good kitty, aren't you?" he purred (get it? lmao) The kitten meowed in response, leaning into him more. "The cannibal demon man has cats..."

Jeff: He doesn't like small animals. Likes 'cool' animals, as he would say. Falcons, hawks, sharks, etc. Has a secret soft spot for sea otters. Would never admit it, though. Has had many fish in the past. None have survived for too long. His current fish is named "Bubbles" but he will not say its name. Only in his head. Aggressively nice to animals. Not allowed to have animals smaller than a cat. He will lose it. Cuddles with his animals. Feeds a stray dog. Smile dog. "Cute ass fish," he muttered, back cracking loudly as he stood upright from his crouched position. "Did you say something?" you inquired. "No, and even if I did, what's it matter to you?" he snapped. "Sorry," you ruefully replied, rolling your eyes. Sprinkling the food in the bowl, he squinted, as much as he can, at least, and said something else under his breath. Little did you know, he was calling his fish by its name.

Toby: Feeds every stray. Every single one. Cat, dog, rat. Doesn't matter to him. He has several rats and lets them crawl all over him. One is named "Gerard" and the other is named "Frank" because we stan My Chemical Romance <3333 Brings them places in his pocket around the mansion and in town. Never on missions. Kisses them on the head. They are chubby little rats, and he will not take criticism of them. They are his babies. "Toby, what the fuck is in your pocket?" Tim questioned, watching as the area wiggled around oddly. Toby moved his hand up, pulling out a black and white rodent. "Really? You brought the fucking rat to breakfast?" Brian joked. Toby shook his head, a no. "The fuck do you mean 'no'?" Tim angrily asked. Swallowing his food, a shit-eating grin plastered his face. Once again, he moved his hand up, pulling out another rat. "No, I brought them both."

Helen: Like four cats. They are not allowed in his studio. Many scars from them. They hide under his bed and get his legs when he walks by. Has run into many walls trying to avoid this. Does not trust them. Buys them that expensive ass kitty food and tuna. Cat treats. His cats know tricks for sure. They are mean. He jumps onto his bed from a distance away because of the fear of monsters under his bed (the cats) Names them after famous artists/poets. They give him even more mental instability. "Oh my fucking-" he cried, stopping mid-sentence to exhale loudly. The small black cat ravaged his ankles, kicking and thrashing to assert dominance. Bending over, he lifted the kitty from his limb, tossing it on the bed to continue his phone call. "Yeah, sorry. Mr. Sparkle Palooza bit me again," (I'm so sorry for the name)

Hoodie/Brian: He likes big dogs. Like German Shepherds, Golden retrievers, and any type of hound. Dogs go on as many walks as he can provide. Many, many treats. They are spoiled. He gives them scraps excessively. They sleep on his bed, despite having their own. Very well trained. "Sick em'" is his favorite surprise. Vicious ass dogs fr. Clips their nails regularly. Hates when he gets called a 'dog dad' or when his dogs are called 'fur babies' because it weirds him out. "Oh, godamnit. Can you fucking stop, you crazy asshole?" he muttered, attempting to hold the dog in place as the clippers came in contact with the animals' nails. You watched, amused, across the room as he swore to himself. "Need some help?" you joked. "No, (y/n), I do not need help."

Masky: No animals. Unless it's like a single cat, he's not down. However, does enjoy deer and other forest animals. Has been horseback riding. Enjoyed it thoroughly. No animals unless approved by him.

Laughing Jack: Endless animals. Cats, dogs, rats, mice, deer, birds. All of them but snakes. He hates snakes. But is super affectionate toward any other animal. "Jack, look what I found!" you cheered, holding up a small kitten. With wide eyes and a grinning face, he gently took it from your hand, cradling it as if it were as fragile as glass. "It's ours now."

(NOT PROOFREAD; I AM AWARE IT IS BAD)

[briamichellewrites]

30

René wanted to manage Bria’s career. She called Jon to get his opinion. He thought it would be great for her. However, he recommended that she be open and honest about her mental health situation. Just in case she needed help. Was he going to visit her on tour? Yes, they had a stop in Jupiter, Florida where he and Céline had a house. If she signed a contract with him, she should have one of her friends present. Did any of them have any knowledge about music contracts? She thought Brad did.

He was the A&R guy for the label he created with Mike. Yes, have him sit in with them. He had one hundred percent faith in Renè, he just thought it would be good to get a second opinion. Okay. She would let him and Mike know. He reminded her to rest. It would give her more energy on stage. That sounded like an awesome idea. He laughed and told her he loved her.

I love you, too. Brad was interested in meeting with Renè, as was Mike. They would have to set up a time to meet with him. Even if he couldn’t fly to Los Angeles, they could have a conference call with him. If she talked to him before that, that was fine. He just asked to be kept updated. She would do that. Were they going to come to the concert in LA? They were going to do everything possible to be there because they wanted to see her.

After getting his phone number, they said goodbye and hung up. They had a couple of hours to their next destination, so she decided to take a nice cat nap. She splurged on a nice tour bus with bunk beds and a king-sized bed in the back for her. It also had a bathroom with a shower, a TV with a DVD player in the living room and her bedroom; a small kitchen with a refrigerator full of drinks, and a pantry with snacks.

Her tour manager also encouraged her to rest. She told him she was going to do that. After closing the door, she put her pajamas on. She fell asleep after putting her earplugs in. It was the only way she could sleep. Her dancers followed behind her on a separate bus.

Everything she needed for her stage was packed into semis. It would be unloaded when they got to their destination. She had a staff of people traveling with her. They all made sure she took care of herself, got to where she needed to be on time, and made sure everything ran smoothly. They were all employed by Machine Shop Records and Warner Records.

Brad and Mike hired them with help from Jeff. She wanted to bring Nicole with her because she was a piece of home, but she was unable to come since she had another job. Next time. She was going to see her performance in LA.

Meow. Mike was not a cat person but Woody was growing on him. As annoying as he was, he was Bria’s child. No matter what he was doing, if he was sitting down, he would be climbing on his lap. Give me attention, human! He had to give up and admit defeat. Missy and Buddy were also the ones to beg for attention. He petted Woody and scratched his head.

Thank you, human. After a few minutes, he ran away. He looked down at the dogs. Missy was asleep dreaming of chasing birds while Buddy was chewing on a bone. Yum. Yum. It tasted like plastic! Dogs were natural predators, like cats. Bones helped him imagine himself chewing on an animal he had just hunted and killed. Maybe a pheasant or a duck. They had just come from outside where they used the bathroom and got exercise.

Woody came out and joined them. Mike made sure he knew exactly where he was at all times. When they came back in after an hour outside, he did a head count. One… two… three. Okay. He did take a walk around the property. Jason had done a great job and he was so proud of his little brother! He thought about that every time he walked around.

He would have a great career as an architect. If it was okay with Bria, he could use the house for his portfolio. His parents wanted to see it. They had only seen the plans and drawings. Jason was going to ask if they could come over and see it when she returned home. They would give her a few days, of course, to get used to being home. Maybe he would run home and get his swim trunks, so he could use her pool. As the animals rested, he decided to do that.

The pool felt wonderful! It was like he was in a giant bathtub! He brought over his boom box and a few CDs. Yes, he made sure the door was closed while he swam around. He didn’t want the animals falling in. Woody pawed at the door. Human, let me in! He noticed him. No, he was not going to let him in. He meowed for a while before running away again.

Hey, Mike. It’s Brad. I just talked to Renè. Call me back when you get a chance.

Rob was curious about the new development in Bria’s career. Brad explained it to him. Good for her. She might become the next pop star. He agreed that was very likely. She could become as big as Britney Spears with movie deals, brand deals, record sales, and everything else that went into being a hugely successful pop star. Renè could guide her career into whatever she wanted.

As long as she took care of her mental health, the sky was the limit for her. Mike called him back an hour later. He had taken a shower after getting out of the pool to rinse off the salt water. Brad asked him how the pool was. It was amazing! He was in heaven! Maybe when he became as rich as her, he would have an indoor heated saltwater pool. He didn’t doubt that. Mike laughed and asked if he wanted to meet somewhere to talk about Renè’s deal.

Yeah, he invited him over. He and Rob were just hanging out. Mike jokingly asked if he should take one of Bria’s cars.

“Mike, I think she would kill you”, he said slowly.

He laughed. “That’s what I thought. Okay. I’m coming over after I make sure everyone has enough food and water.”

They did. Buddy and Missy looked up at him. Bye, human. He told them he would be back later. Ok, human. Bria was woken up before arriving at their destination. She was given privacy to change clothes and brush her hair. After throwing on the clothes she was wearing before, she put her pajamas on the bed before going into the bathroom. She had enough time to eat and do a sound check before the show.

She jumped up and down backstage to get herself energized. While eating dinner, she took her medications. Another day. Another show. Her fans paid good money and she wanted to prove herself worthy. She warmed up her voice before her sound check by singing part of I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston. How did she sound? Her tour manager gave her a thumbs up. She sounded great! Was she excited? Hell yeah! She would need all the energy she could get.

From: Mike

To: Bria Michelle

Subject: Renè

Hey, I talked to Brad about Renè’s offer. We all think we should meet with him – you, Brad, and I when you get back to LA. Brad talked to him on the phone. We’re going to wait until you come home to sit down with him. If you want to talk to him before, that’s fine. Just let us know what you guys decide. We can’t wait to see your show! PS. Is it okay if I drive one of your cars?

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[a-reverii]

▸ A FAITHFUL COMPANION⌇sirius black.

› pairing ━ ꒰ dark!sirius black x muggle!reader ꒱

› in which ━ ꒰ a black dog seems to keep you company wherever you go. ꒱

› content warning + notes ━ ꒰ stalking ; obsessive tendencies ; swearing ; breaking & entering ; violence & blood ; degradation (not specifically sexual) ; allusions to kidnapping ; reader is in college/university ; etc. i felt like sirius would totally use his animagus abilities to his advantage (if he was a yandere), so here is this fic. ꒱

› word count ━ ꒰ 2 . 8k ꒱

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

A BLACK DOG.

That was the first thing your eyes laid upon when you exited the decrepit old vehicle that was the bus that took you to and from your college. A single, average-sized, black dog.

You'd always had a certain fondness for animals. From infancy to adulthood, this was a fact that didn't change. Cats, bunnies, birds, dogs ━ it didn't matter the kind. All that mattered is that you could pet it. You'd since, of course, learned that not all pets or animals were one for such forms of affection, but you nevertheless adored them all the same.

You didn't think much of the dog after you began making your way back to your home, only really took notice of it when you caught it in the corner of your eye, trailing behind you by a few meters. Were it not for the late hour or the fact that you were walking on your own, you may not have been so paranoid as to look behind you every once in a while, and, by extension, notice the animal, but you were glad you did.

You slowed down, and so did the dog. Strange, you thought, but you supposed animals were simply like that. You then continued, and noticed that it too resumed its leisure pace.

So, making the decision to act off of impulse, you paused your walking once again, before turning around and squatting down, offering the creature a friendly demeanor. The dog seemed to understand your openness, as it then approached, smelling the fist you extended towards it and allowing you to give it a good scratch behind the ears.

It was, most likely, very unsanitary of you do do this ━ the animal could have had all sorts of diseases or aggressive tendencies, but you'd always loved animals to a fault, so you decided to take the risk.

The dog's fur was remarkably soft, you realized, as you brushed your fingers against it. Much softer than that of a wild dog would be, or a stray, at the very least. Perhaps the animal was lost.

"Hey, little guy. Do you know where your home is?"

The dog, of course, did not respond, but you let out a small chuckle as it leaned into your touch and even went so far as to try to lick your face. This, you tried to avoid, wanting to maintain some level of safety and cleanliness, but the animal managed to give you one good kiss after numerous attempts.

"You're an affectionate one, aren't you?" You murmured under your breath, shaking your head. "Well, you're cute, but I'm going to have to head back home. Hope you find yours, buddy."

You gave the dog an affectionate few pats on the head before standing up fully and resuming your walk, not aware of the fact of the figure that then trailed behind you carefully, now hidden by a veil of darkness.

* * *

The next time you saw the dog, exiting the bus as you always did, you felt an eerie sense of deja vu pass over you.

That was, of course, until you realized that this very situation had occurred only the day prior. Still, it almost unnerved you ━ the way the animal sat so perfectly still. Were it not for the occasional breeze that brushed its fur in an almost imperceptible manner, you would have been sure it was a statue.

"A creature of habit, huh?" You mused as you stared at the animal in some attempt to soothe the odd feeling that was growing in your stomach.

The dog followed you, closer this time, and you didn't bother it. Despite the irregular nature of the whole ordeal, you supposed that if this dog was at your side, it would hopefully ward off any unwanted interactions with strangers or people with malicious intent. You never knew the true intention of people these days.

And so, days passed on like this, and a sort of companionship blossomed. The dog would appear in the same place at the very same time every day, and it would accompany you on your walk home. And, although your were originally slightly apprehensive towards the animal, you grew a quick liking to it. Its presence made you feel safer during what once were your lonesome walks home, and the animal itself was rather friendly.

It never seemed to follow you to your doorstep, however, always disappearing the moment before your house became visible. And, in a sense, for this you were glad. You'd most likely feel too guilty to deny the animal shelter if it pleaded with you on your doorstep for such, even though you hadn't the money or the space for it. So, for now, the brief but frequent walks were sufficient.

* * *

You sat in the large, imposing library of your college, chewing on the edge of your pen as a matter of habit. Before you on the table sat several pages of lined paper, the likes of which you were supposed to have an essay written upon in no less than a week.

"Shit."

You cursed perhaps too loudly, as a few heads turned your way, though no one made any comment as to reprimand you. It was rather unfortunate that every word seemed to echo ━ that every sound seemed to reverberate in the large building. The walls were high and the ceiling curved into a sort of arc, though as beautiful as it was, the architecture seemed to be the main cause of this. It made everyone inside of the library keenly aware of every word uttered ━ every sound made.

It was as a result of this that you'd been struggling for the past hour or so to write down so much as a single sentence. You'd gone to the library to have some peace and quiet, but you seemed to have neither.

Your eyes darted about the room, looking for something to focus on, something to ground you. The rain ━ yes, that would be it. Your eyes wandered over to the large window that occupied the wall beside you, and you did your very best to pay attention to the pitter-patter of the raindrops. You'd always found a certain calmness accompanied the rain.

It was, then, by watching the window so very intently that you spotted a black figure in the distance, unmoving amongst the chaos that was the rainstorm. In some attempt to discern what it was that stood there, you leaned forward in your seat ━ not that it was of much help, of course ━ and squinted your eyes.

It was a dog, you realized.

A black one, you suspected, though you couldn't be very sure as the fog and rain distorted its color, but of this much you were certain: it was a dog, and it was staring right at you, sitting perfectly still.

Instantly, you imagined it must have been the black dog that so often followed you, but you quickly realized that the distance from your college to the bus stop was too considerable a trudge, so you concluded it must have been a different mutt that had found itself upon the grounds of your beloved college.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that it looked so hauntingly familiar.

When the rain finally cleared up, the dog was gone, and you wondered if it was a trick of the light, or an image your own mind had conjured up. It was of no importance, however, you quickly reminded yourself, as you remembered the papers in front of you. Work, they seemed to whisper. Write something. And yet you couldn't seem to get the image of that dog out of your mind.

When you took the bus back home, having wasted an entire afternoon, the black dog was there to greet you, and you let it.

And so, days passed, and eventually weeks, and eventually months. And with the time, the black dog ━ the name of which you still did not know in spite of the amount of time you'd spent with it ━ became a familiar presence, one that seemed to follow you in the most peculiar of places ━ from your bus station to the outside of your bedroom window to perhaps, even, following you inside of your college campus.

Of course, some of the times you'd seen the dog you were sure were figments of your imagination, but you found it odd all the same ━ how this one dog seemed to infiltrate your mind so powerfully. You loved animals, yes, but you'd never realized to what extent ━ and you surely never expected that your mind would conjure up this creature everywhere you went. You'd certainly never expected to begin hallucinating the poor thing.

After yet another long day of schoolwork, you stepped off of your bus, your eyes almost immediately searching for that black dog that had so quickly became your partner ━ one you never found. Your eyes narrowed as you scrutinized the landscape before you, which now seemed barren without the creature.

It felt strange now, walking home completely alone, but you supposed that the dog may have found its home or had wandered off to somewhere new, and for this you could not be mad. You could only hope that the creature was now safe, wherever it was.

You let out a soft sigh as you felt the hardwood floor of your home underneath you and swung the door shut behind you, collapsing on your small couch. Your legs ached from the walk from the bus ━ one that was always far too long for your liking. You desperately wished that it could simply drop you off to your front door, but, alas, you were a struggling college student, and such luxuries were not ones you could afford.

After spending what you thought of as a considerable amount of time resting, you stood up with the intention to heat up some food ━ leftovers, most likely, as you'd hardly eaten all day. On your path to do so, however, you felt your stomach sink upon noticing a man in your kitchen, his back to you as he stared at an object you could not yet discern.

You stood, paralyzed for all but a moment, though it didn't take long for him to sense your presence, and to turn around, a devilish grin painting his features.

The man seemed to be about your age, perhaps slightly older, with long, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes and rather distinct look about him. You did not know how or why, but instantly you knew that he was no normal man ━ not in the slightest. Something was off about him, something equal parts alluring and eerie.

"Who are you?" Your words came out in a rather weak manner, and you wanted to hit yourself for sounding so vulnerable in front of this most likely dangerous stranger who had, for some reason, broken into your house. You weren't quite sure why he was here, of course ━ you didn't have anything of real value stored away in your home.

The man in question titled his head at you, as if observing your expression, before returning his gaze to the object in his hand ━ a picture frame, you realized. One you'd placed on the counter with the intent of moving long ago, though you'd never really had the time or put in the effort to do so.

"You muggles and your silly questions. Why does it matter who I am? If I were you, I'd be asking why I'm here."

Your brows furrowed at his words. Muggles? What on earth were those?

"Why ━ why are you here?"

At the question, the man's smile only seemed to grow. He did not reply, however, instead opting to continue staring at the picture in his hands.

"I don't know why you chose to live in such filth. I've never seen a wizard occupying such a small, dirty home. Tell me, Y/n ━ do you wish for your life to change?"

Wizard. The word rang in your ears, loud and clear. This was a madman you were speaking to, surely. What was he on about?

And ━ moreover, how did he know your name?

"I... wha..?" The more questions you had, the more they seemed to impede your question-asking abilities. You could hardly get a word out.

"I could buy you a much better home than this. Much bigger, cleaner. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Something luxurious."

His words were confusing. A house? Why would he buy a house? You felt as though you were lacking some crucial piece of information.

"Why are you here? Please, just ━ you can take anything you want. Just ━ please, leave," you finally managed to say.

The man raised an eyebrow, his head raising to stare at you. He looked almost amused. "Excuse me?"

"Please ━ please leave. Or I'll ━ I'll call the police."

"The police? What are those?"

Your brows furrowed. "I'm not ━ this isn't a joke. I'll have you fucking arrested ━ I'll do it if you don't... Just, get out of my home."

"No need for such harsh words, love. And we needn't escalate this so quickly. I don't plan on harming you."

"Then why are you here?"

Once again, that devilish smirk returned, but this time with a response to your question. "To take you to somewhere... better."

"Who are you?" Your mind was now buzzing, but you wanted answers. This man seemed to know something about you, and you wanted ━ needed to know what, a need that seemed to transcend your practical thoughts. You should have already called the police by now.

"Sirius Black."

"How do you know who I am?"

The man ��� Sirius, took a step forward, and you in turn took a step back. He then frowned.

"You muggles aren't very bright, are you? Or is that just you?"

"What?"

"I've known who you are for a long time now, Y/n. I've been... watching you. Up close and from afar. I suppose you could say you've caught my eye."

"What do you want from me?"

"Want?" Sirius echoed. "I do not want anything from you, my dear. What I want is to help you, is all. Now, whether you accept that help or not is entirely up to you."

"And... if I don't?"

"Then I'll simply have to see to it that you do."

You tried to control your breathing, which had grown increasingly erratic from his cryptic responses. Your eyes darted about your kitchen until finally you spotted your telephone, on the right wall, behind Sirius.

Shit.

He seemed to pick up on what you were doing as his eyes followed your line of sight. "I wouldn't do anything if I were you. It'll be easier for both you and I if you cooperate."

You bit the inside of your cheek. You had to try. Your eyes searched for something to use ━ a weapon of sorts. It found no other than a plant vase that sat on the counter, but within reach. Unconventional, you supposed, but you didn't have many other options.

In a single, ragged motion, you ran towards Sirius before hitting his head with the vase and ━ to your partial surprise (you hadn't swung with very much force) ━ shattering it completely. You tried not to pay mind to the stinging on your hand or the small but numerous shards that had embedded themselves into your arm as you ran towards the phone. Your hands trembled as you tried to tap the numbers 9-1-1, but just as your finger brushed against final one, a harsh force pushed you against the ground.

Sirius loomed above your now bloodied form, a dangerous expression on his face. His eyes were wide with the kind of paranoia that made your heart skip a beat. He looked beastly ━ almost animal-like as he bent down, hovering only inches above you.

"See what happens when you don't cooperate? Look at the mess you made. I was going to be nice. But now look at what you've done ━ " You shivered as his hands came to caress your cheeks, softly at first, before then digging into your skin with his unnaturally sharp nails. You bit back a whimper.

"Yes ━ nice, I was going to be very nice. But you've ruined it all, you stupid muggle. But that's fine. Your cooperation isn't needed. I only hoped for it."

He then took out an oddly shaped wooden stick ━ or something of that sort from his pocket. Sirius smiled wildly, as a predator would upon catching their prey.

"Sweet dreams, my dear. I suppose we can only hope you are ready for what comes next."

And then, everything went dark.

[supermaks]

if you have any more of that wingman roscoe's hc or even god providing a fic i would be the happiest person on that sinful internet (you were so right for it; they are above the rest and they are so different and thus so fckng compelling it's simply nature!)

I wrote this on my phone idk if it’s. ANYTHING but it’s for u 🍓🌷

2018

“Where’s your brother, girl?” Coco doesn’t answer. She doesn’t seem too keen on finding out, either. She lays down and lets out the heaviest of sighs, like the whole weight of the world was put on a bulldog. Lewis rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He says. “I’ll say it. You’re not my favorite.” Coco raises the bulldog equivalent of a very sculpted eyebrow and Lewis holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, excuse me. Seriously, girl, he would look for you.” Coco grumbles and turns around, effectively showing him her butthole. Fantastic. “Not making a very strong case for yourself. Do you have a lawyer?”

Angela knocks twice on the glass of the office wall. “Hi, weirdo, what are you up to? Being a weirdo?”

“No. Talking to my dog.” Lewis says. Angela hums, nods sagely. “You seen Roscoe?” She shakes her head.

“No. Did you lose your other twenty-pound bulldog? There’s only two, I should say.”

Lewis sighs. “Yeah. They’re quick bastards, though.”

“They’re really not.”

“Shut up, actually? Thank you.”

It’s late, nearly 9. Roscoe should be easy enough to find. He never tends to explore beyond the Mercedes’ amenities, and when he does there’s always a kind soul willing to airlift the lad and deliver him back to the motorhome.

These people might not like Lewis, but they like Lewis’ dogs. Lewis’ dogs don’t speak English, so they can’t voice opinions or express like, emotions. But they do pee. And poop. And chew through thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment. Shit.

It takes him thirty minutes to locate the beast. Thirty whole minutes tiptoeing around the paddock like a fucking idiot. He hears Roscoe before he sees him, his labored breathing, soft borks and happy little paws drumming on the pavement the way they always do when he’s excited, taptaptaptap. Lewis all-but runs around the corner, relived, a little curious, only to immediately wonder if he’s having a stroke.

It’s Max. Max? The kid. The guy. Crouched down to Roscoes’ level, going fucking crazy on Lewis’ dog like it’s imperative he gives the biggest amount of behind-the-ear scratches per second.

“What a nice boy. Oh, he’s so sweet, yes he is. Yes, you are.” Max’s scratches turn into aggressive, enthusiastic rubs on each side of Roscoes’ tummy and Roscoe wiggles, delighted, slobbers all over Max and Max laughs.

Honestly, Lewis should just forsake his fucking dog, leave him to The Netherlands and never dignify him with another look in his direction. Lewis clears his throat and Max looks up, smile still in place. His hoodie’s pulled tight down his forehead, and it makes him look stupid. At least it’s not the hat.

“He came running at me, mate, it was like a torpedo, out of fucking nowhere.” He says, eyes all big. Bigger than normal. Max has very big eyes. He has a very big everything, on his face, and all of it is like, hard to not stare at, because it’s so—it’s there. And when he smiles, it’s pretty. And pink. And soft. “You know, I had a lot of pets growing up. Dogs and birds and cats, but especially dogs. I love dogs.”

And Max always does this thing, too. Talks. “That’s cool, man. Can I have mine back?”

Surprisingly, Max shrugs, and his smile turns sly. “I dunno’. Roscoe, what do you think? Do you want more Max scratchies?” There’s a universe where Lewis didn’t have to hear Max Verstappen ask if his dog wanted more ‘Max scratchies’ while looking said dog in the eye. Unfortunately, this is not that universe. This guy is supposed to be the next Senna.

“Max. Mate. Please don’t say that.” Lewis begs. Max bursts out laughing, which is, again, unexpected, weird, goofy, nice, all at once, and straightens back up, to Roscoes’ disappointment and Lewis’ quick demise. Max is tall. Taller. He’s cartoony in his zipped up Red Bull hoodie and too-tight jeans. Just another racer standing under light drizzle.

But he’s still smiling. That fucking smile. It doesn’t fit. It’s a smile Lewis wants to trace with the pad of his thumb, on the face of a guy he can’t touch, no matter what. He can’t touch Max. He can’t take Max home, can’t find out how Max kisses, how he fucks, how he looks when he’s safe, when he’s free, away from all this.

“Okay. No more Max scratchies.” Max says, and adds, “Lewis.” too fast and caught between his teeth, like he couldn’t help himself. He’s blushing, now.

Roscoe takes a twirl around Lewis’ legs, back under Max’s, and decides to sit right between them. Lewis sighs.

He shoves his hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket and looks up at the dark sky. Clouds. Nice conditions. Max is starting P7 tomorrow. A pebble in somebody else’s shoe. Not Lewis’. Lewis is far away, still.

“Your family had a lot of dogs, then?” Lewis asks, and keeps staring up at the sky, because he doesn’t want to see the giddiness on Max’s face, the fullness of his grin and the fawn of his lashes. He doesn’t want to see the stupid fucking crush Max taunts him with every time they’re together. Max doesn’t play fair.

“Yeah. Yeah, we had—Lewis?”

Lewis starts walking, shoulders hunched, movements swift and decisive. The paddock is emptying out. Not that many people around anymore. Max is quick to follow, hesitant, but there. Roscoe tries to run ahead. Idiot lasts ten seconds. “Cmon, man. I gotta hit my steps.” Lewis lies. “Before it rains.”

Max nods, blinking fast, still red in the face. “Oh, yes. Okay?”

“Keep talking.” Lewis adds.

Max does. Lewis makes him carry Roscoe up the steps to the Mercedes’ motor home when they get back, wet and sneaky, shoulders pressed together. Lewis didn’t really learn that much about Max’s dogs, but he learned that he’s done playing fair, too.

[mud-castle]

In the dark mirror au, have their been instances were kittypet queens kinda just expect their kits to be taken and make sure that they're ready? Like, Thunderclan breaks into a Twoleg nest and instead of fighting the queen, she's just like "I've got two mollies and a tom, one of the mollies is a little small, though I think she's big enough to still go with you. I gave them forest-y names; Pebble, Fern, and Sparrow, please let them keep their names as a final gift from their mother." Has something like that ever happened?

Wow, that's depressing...

So, I must put it in:

Story below the cut:

Paprika was a fool.

She had known of the raids the forest cats sometimes launched on the neighborhood cats. She had known of the kits that had been stolen and of mothers and fathers who had been injured when they tried to protect them.

Yet, she had also known that the raids were rare, more often done on loners, rogues, and city cats. The forest cats didn't want to draw the ire of the humans by attacking their pets too often. Rather, their attacks on the neighborhood were more often made at those who had strayed too close to their beloved trees.

So, Paprika had dismissed the concerns of her friend Trixie when she'd told her of her plans to have kits. The last raid the forest cats had been just about a month ago. Often, they only happened two or three times a year. Paprika had seen a number of kittens born, grow, and be given their own housefolk.

Paprika had always wanted kits, little ones running around under her paws. She'd daydreamed of the things she would teach them. Like, the best places to sharpen your claws, the names of types of birds that came around the feeder, how to get your housefolk to scratch the itch you couldn't reach, and so much more. And, like the idiot she was, she'd decided that it was safe to finally have her own.

She'd been given birth to three precious kittens three months later. Two mollies and a tom. Two weeks went by without issue. Parenting was a little harder than she anticipated, but with the help of her housefolk, she took to it rather easily. The kittens had opened their eyes and ears and explored the world that was the basket in the kitchen.

A week later, a forest cat had been spotted four houses from her own. It had simply walked along the fence, looking into houses, and disappeared about an hour later. Paprika kept a closer eye on her kittens. They had begun to babble, weakly attempting to mimic her own words.

Two nights after that, the cat was seen again. Two houses from her own. It had done the same thing, watching the houses, before going off once again. Paprika decided to stay in the house instead of spending her mornings and evenings outside chatting with the neighborhood cats and dogs. Her kits had started mewing their first word. "Mama"

Two nights later, Paprika was awoken by nothing. Her kittens lay sound asleep next to her. She gave each of them a lick on the head, heart warming as they purred contently. Her housefolk had gone to bed a little earlier than usual. She could hear him snoring away. With a yawn, she turned her head towards the window. She froze.

Wide, orange eyes locked onto narrowed, green ones. Paprika had never seen a forest cat before. It was big, far bigger than her. She couldn't see much of its details as it had its back turned to the light of the moon. But she could see its eyes slide over to where her kittens were nestled against her, and the glint of fangs as its mouth parted into a wide, wicked grin.

Paprika bristled, alarm shooting through her body. She turned in the direction of her housefolk's room, wondering if she could wake him up before the forest cat could try anything. But when she turned back to the window, it was gone. Paprika didn't go back to sleep.

Rage hit first, then indignance, then helplessness. There was nothing she could do to protect her kittens. She'd personally seen the wounds on cat who had fought back. The forest cats never killed them, but they left some wishing they had. She plead for help, but no one would. Many cats turned their noses, sneering that she deserved it for making such a idiotic decision. Others simply gave her a pitying look, unwilling to risk their lives for a pawful of kits. They told her to accept her fate. Some of the dogs had wanted to help, but were unable to escape their backyards. Deep down she'd known better than to bother asking.

So, she did the one thing she could think of. She prepared her kittens for the inevitable. She made up stories of strong, noble cats who fought monsters in the woods. She taught them a hunting a crouch as best as she could. They began to speak in full sentences. They played games like "Hunter" where one of them was a mouse and the others had to catch them, or "Battle" where their made up groups fought off monsters.

It took longer than she thought, about a month later. But, she wasn't surprised when one night when her housefolk had gone out they appeared in the kitchen , eyes gleaming, claws flexing. No doubt prepared for a fight. They were big, and their pelts were unnaturally glossy and sleek. Paprika eyed each one, a spotted molly, a light gray tom, and the cat she'd seen in the window. His jaw was scarred and crooked.

She sighed quietly, numbness overtaking her body. She nudged her kittens to the strange cats, ignoring the confused squeaks of protest. The foresters blinked at her in surprise, expecting her to fight back or at least run.

"These are my kits," she began quietly, "there are two mollies and a tom."

She nudged the first kit, a dark tabby molly. "This one is Sparrow, she's the eldest." The bold kit swatted at the spotted she-cat when she bent to pick her up. The wild cat withdrew, hissing slightly, before snatching her up roughly.

"Ow!" Sparrow cried, "Mama! She's hurting me!"

Paprika flinched, but nosed her second kit, "He is Fern, the second oldest." Fern, took a slight step back, glancing back warily.

"Mama?"

He didn't fight when the gray tom picked him up, gentler than the spotted one had been with Sparrow.

A lump had begun to form in her throat by the time she turned to her youngest, the runt. "This is Pebble, she's the youngest. She's a little small but-" she paused to choke back sob, "but, I think she's strong enough to make the journey."

None of the cats moved. The crooked jawed tom stared at the kitten for a long moment. Finally, he sneered, speaking for the first time, "Scrap couldn't even survive a stiff wind." He flicked his tail, and the other two cats moved towards the door.

A strange mix of relief and guilt made Paprika's legs quiver. She quickly took her littlest one back to the basket, almost afraid he'd change his mind if she took too long. Her other kittens cried for her as they were taken away from the basket, away from their home, away from her. She curled her paws around her littlest one, not daring to face the foresters again, unable to face the looks of betrayal her kittens were surely throwing her.

She heard a scoff from behind her, the spotted molly, "I told you kittypets were cowardly, they won't even defend their own kits."

"She'll just have more later." The crooked jawed tom answered breezily, "Probably won't even remember these ones."

Another voice, the gray tom, "Next time she should mate with a stronger tom. These tiny things are hardly worth the effort."

Their voices grew muffled as they left through the cat flap.

She looked to the little kitten they had left her. Pebble. Paprika's lips curled back at the name. Never would this little one be taken from her. She would not touch the land beyond the fence or fight over a pile of bones. Paprika wanted her to never have any association with the wild cats. This little kit would never know hunger, or bloodshed, or anything outside of the housefolk's protection. And she certainly wouldn't bear the name of anything from that wretched forest.

She clutched her littlest one close, her rage giving way to grief. She finally allowed her tears to fall, for sobs to shake her shoulders. How could she have been so stupid?

"Mama?" her kitten mewed, pawing at her face in concern, "Are you okay? Mama?"

"Next time" the gray tom had said.

Next time?

There wouldn't be a next time.

[casuallyimagining]

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, and @hoebii​​ for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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Taglist: @min-yus, @melindagrace31, @shrimpmsg, @ghostkat23, @demcreeps, @ggsmashgg, @findingourtreasure, @20emma0, @springbean​, @black-rose-29, @cuteipat, @agustneeds, @deeepvibes, @yzkyzkuniverse, @softbbyg0rl​

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 108: Ideal (Happy Birthday, Harry Potter)

Harry hadn’t had very many good birthdays.

Somehow, in spite of that fact, he’d imagined that his 19th birthday would be different. Last year, on his 18th birthday, when they’d spent the day rebuilding Hogwarts, Harry had reflected on his many terrible birthdays and told himself that 18 would be the last bad one. He’d told himself that on his 19th birthday there would be a party, he’d have his friends around him, and maybe just for that one day, they could forget everything bad and just have fun.

But now he was single, living in muggle London, without any friends nearby, and without any happy plans in place. He decided that he had to do something today, there must be something that could make his birthday not quite so glum.

He set off toward a coffee shop a few blocks from his house and ran smack into a door as a woman was coming out. She apologized but Harry was too distracted by what he saw inside of the store. From where he stood he could see reptiles, and birds, and he thought he could make out cats in the corner, and somewhere there was the faint sound of puppies yipping.

Waving the woman off he entered the animal shelter, feeling like might have found something good after all. He wandered in; first past the birds, then the reptiles, then to the kittens and full-grown cats. He paused with the cats for a little while, trailing his fingers along their cages and talking to them softly. Then he moved past them to the dogs and puppies.

There had to be about 10 altogether, different breeds and types, some sleeping, some playing together, some just wandering about sniffing. Several came charging over to the edge of their pen when they saw him, wagging their tails eagerly and he just knew. He looked up and waved to a sales associate who was straightening some pet supplies. “Sorry, I just wonder if I could meet some of the dogs?”

“Oh, sure!” she replied brightly. “Draco is on the dogs today, I’ll call him over. Just a mo.”

That was an odd name, Harry thought, it must be a coincidence. Surely Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be working in a Muggle Animal Shelter of all places. It was preposterous. Yet a moment later he heard a voice he’d recognize anywhere, “Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he turned to look at the boy who had been his nemesis for several years, “Malfoy?” he asked incredulously, yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. It was his birthday after all.

(Read more below the cut)

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

“Oh, you boys know each other?” Annie asked with a wide smile.

“Uh,” Harry said inarticulately even as Malfoy said, “Yes, we went to school together.”

“Oh, it’s always nice to run into old friends!” she exclaimed. “Well, I’ll just leave you two to catch up and to find this young man a puppy!”

“You’re here to adopt a puppy?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“Or a grown-up dog,” Harry replied defensively, feeling like this sort of luck was quite typical of his birthdays.

“And you just happened to show up at the one shelter in all of London that I work at?”

“Well, it’s not like I knew you worked here. It’s my birthday and I just wanted one happy thing-”

“A dog is a big commitment. It’s not just something you decide you want one day then discard the next.”

“I know that!” he protested. “And I want a commitment. I want something to love and take care of, something that loves me in return. I want something that is there all the time.”

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. “Alright. What kind of dog are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could meet them and then I’d know which one was the right one.”

“Trust me, Potter, if you do it that way you’ll take home 5 dogs.”

“Maybe I want five dogs,” Harry said stubbornly. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else on at the moment.”

Malfoy snorted, “Have you ever owned a dog, Potter?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Have you?”

“No,” Malfoy said. “For one thing I’m not allowed to have them in my flat and for another, I don’t have the time and energy for a dog. Dogs are a lot of work and I’m not saying you can’t do it,” he said, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “I’m just saying, maybe you should start with one dog.”

Harry frowned but it did make sense, he supposed.

“Come on, Potter, tell me about your ideal dog and I’ll still let you meet all of them,” he said as he started toward the back. When Harry didn’t follow he said, “Come on, you can’t meet them out there.”

Harry followed him through a door that led behind the glass.

“So, when you imagine your perfect dog, do you think you want a dog with a lot of energy or that’s a little more lowkey?”

“Umm,” Harry said, imagining that he’d like a dog who wanted to play but also thinking of how hard some days were. “Maybe a little lower energy, but one that would still like taking walks and want to play a little bit each day.”

“Well, most of our dogs will want to play at least a little bit here and there,” he replied. “So meet Artemis first,” he said, as he went into the area all of the dogs were in and led one dog out. “She is not for you,” he said as the dog bounded over to Harry and Harry knelt down to pet her. She licked his face and put her paws up on his shoulders to sniff his hair.

“Why isn’t she for me?” he asked, tipping his head up to avoid being licked in the mouth. “Hi Artemis,” he said. “Hello, beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked her sides, combing through her soft fur. “You’re a lovie, aren’t you?”

“She is,” Malfoy confirmed, rubbing her head between her ears. “But our Artemis is part Australian Cattle Dog which means she is very high energy. She needs to run every day regardless of the weather and she needs a lot of stimulation. She is a very smart girl and there will be a perfect home for her, but you aren’t it.”

“But I like her,” Harry said, wrestling with her a little bit.

“You’ll like lots of them,” he said. “I promise.” Then he added, “And if she is your favorite, there’s nothing saying she can’t come back out so you can have her.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

“Alright,” Malfoy repeated. “So that’s Artemis, you can meet Pontus next,” he said, before calling Artemis back to the playroom where the other dogs were. “Pontus isn’t completely trained yet, we’re still working with him on basic commands, so I’ll just have to go in and get him.”

Harry nodded and sat back on his heels to wait, a moment later a huge dog came out, panting and dragging Malfoy behind him.

“Pontus,” Malfoy said reprovingly.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the dog barreled into him and knocked him off his feet with a couple of raucous barks. He pinned Harry’s shoulders to the floor and licked his face quite thoroughly, butting his glasses completely off his face. “Hey, boy,” Harry managed, pushing at his broad chest so he could sit up.

Malfoy was tugging at the dog’s collar, seemingly to no avail. Finally, between the two of them, they got him enough off of Harry that he could sit up.

“Well, hello to you, too, handsome,” Harry said with a chuckle as he scratched behind his ears and Pontus tried to sit in his lap.

“Pontus is very sweet but he is an oaf,” Malfoy said as he brushed his hair back out of his face. “He is part American Pitbull and part something huge and dumb. We can’t quite figure him out.”

“He’s a nice boy,” Harry said as Pontus tried to chew on a bit of Harry’s fringe.

“No,” Malfoy reprimanded the dog, tugging him back from Harry. “Yes, he is, but he needs a firm hand, Potter, and you are too soft. Once he’s trained a little bit he’ll be a very good boy but you just let him eat your hair so you’re definitely not his.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, patting the dog’s side. “I think you’re probably right.”

“Did you hit your head on the floor when he knocked you over?”

“Not really,” Harry said as he reached back to rub the back of his head and Pontus butted him to get him to keep petting him, “Yes, alright, you demanding thing,” he said with a chuckle. “Why do you ask?”

“Well because you admitted I was right and it didn’t seem to hurt you even a little bit.”

Harry laughed, “You’re a git. I’ll have you know it didn’t hurt me one bit.”

“My, my,” Malfoy said with a small smile, “Is this what we call character development?”

“Yes, I see you,” Harry said as Pontus flopped over onto his back on top of Harry’s legs so he could rub his belly.

“He likes you,” Malfoy said with a grin.

Harry looked up at him, “He seems pretty friendly, Malfoy. I bet he likes everyone.”

Malfoy shrugged one annoyingly elegant shoulder, “Not really. He’s usually not too keen on men, in fact.”

“And you let him all but attack me?” Harry asked in mock offense. “I mean, I know you don’t like me, Malfoy, but killing me seems a little much.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t attack people. It’s a common misconception about his breed. It’s all about how they are raised and trained, just like it is with every dog. Except possibly chihuahuas.”

Harry laughed, “I don’t know anything about his breed,” he said honestly. “I just meant that he tackled me to the floor pretty quickly.”

“Yes,” he said, “But when Pontus doesn’t like someone he cowers from them, he doesn’t attack them. He will do whatever he can to put as much distance and as many obstacles as he can between him and the person he’s afraid of.”

“Well, I think he’s sweet,” Harry said, his heart in his throat at the thought of this poor dog being so afraid. “Maybe I could adopt him-” he started.

“Oh no you don’t,” Malfoy said and he leaned down and grasped Pontus’ collar once more. “His person will come and in the meantime, he will have us to look after him. He is not the dog for you; he will wreck your entire house and you’ll let him. He deserves a family who will train him and teach him to be a good boy because he wants to be a good boy.”

Pontus stood up and wagged his tail at Malfoy, slapping Harry across the face. “Ow!” Harry said, shoving at Pontus’ rear end, “Stop hitting me with your tail. That hurts!”

“His tail is very strong,” Malfoy said with a chuckle, “Come on you,” he said to Pontus, “You can go back and play.”

A moment later he came back in, carrying a squirmy puppy in his arms. Harry reached out for it immediately, “Hello,” he cooed at it as the pup started to sniff him.

“This is Caerus,” he said. “He’s a beagle mix, which is quite obvious by his love of sniffing and by his sweet floppy ears.”

“Hi Caerus,” Harry said, holding him up so they were nose to nose, “You are very cute. Yes, you are.”

“He’s just going up for adoption,” Malfoy said. “He was a little touch-and-go for a while, his brother and sisters all died. He was in a very unsafe situation when we found him and we really didn’t know if he’d make it or not, but he’s a fighter.”

He squirmed to get down and Harry set him on the floor and he took off sniffing around the room they were in, following his nose.

“He will have no trouble being adopted. He is young and adorable, and people love puppies.”

“He is really cute,” Harry said as he watched him run around. “But he’s not for me.”

“I agree,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Oh, you’re looking for someone who’s a real rescue.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry asked.

Malfoy watched the little dog walking around the room, investigating and sniffing as he said, “It means that you have a hero complex, Potter, which I can’t even blame you for because you were raised to have one. But you want to rescue a dog who’s come from a rough life and knows it. You want a dog that will love you unconditionally and whose sun rises and sets with you.”

“Well-” Harry started, feeling a little defensive.

“That wasn’t a criticism,” Malfoy said quickly. “It’s a good thing. It means that you want to really bond with your dog and vice versa. Frankly, you’ll be a great pet parent.”

“Err,” Harry said inarticulately. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with another one of those shrugs. “Besides, you’re not cut out to train a puppy.”

Harry laughed, “I could learn.”

“You could,” he conceded. “Maybe. You don’t like to be the bad guy and sometimes when you’re training a dog you have to be able to say a firm no. Especially with puppies.” Before Harry could respond, Malfoy was bending over and scooping up Caerus, “Alright, Mister. Back to the puppy room with you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

When he came back he brought two puppies with him, both with curly, white hair. “Meet Castor and Pollux,” he said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, petting both of them as they squirmed on the floor and started to tousle with one another, both yipping happily as they played.

“We are hoping someone will adopt them as a set. They’ve never been apart a day in their lives and they basically only socialize with one another, no matter what we do with them. They both cry inconsolably when they are separated.” He crouched down beside Harry and stroked one of their backs, “They are also definitely not for you, but I told you that you could meet all of them.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile as Malfoy scooped them back up and carried them back to the other room.

A moment later he came in, walking slowly and leading a dog who limped along behind him. “This is Molly,” he said as he led her over to Harry. She wagged her tail happily at him and plopped down next to him. “She is the sweetest, gentlest dog you’ve ever met.”

Harry stroked her head and she laid her head on his lap.

“She’s a black lab mix and she is a love,” he said as he crouched next to Harry once more, “She has had a hard life and she would love you until the day she died, but she is also not for you.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy, “Why not?”

“Well first because she is special needs, she’s blind, her liver is pretty much shot, she’s all but deaf, she can’t manage stairs, and she is on a variety of medications.”

“I could learn how to deal with all of those things!” Harry protested. “Poor girl, she just needs a home.”

“That’s the second reason you can’t have her,” he said. “She’s already been adopted. She’s the owner’s dog. He just brings her along because he can’t leave her alone at home all day.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Yes, oh,” Malfoy replied. “She’s a good old girl.”

“Why doesn’t her name match all the others?”

Malfoy flushed slightly and Harry couldn’t help but find it a little charming, “I named all of the others,” he confessed. “We just need something to call them while they’re here and I like to give them new names if they’ve come from somewhere else to help distance them from their pasts. People can change their names when they leave.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry said.

“Shut up,” Malfoy replied.

Harry laughed, “What? It is.”

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, Miss Molly, let’s go. We have to find this prat a dog and you can’t be it,” he told her as he gave her a gentle tap and started leading her out. “No, you cannot. Your dad would never give you up. No,” he said as the door closed behind him.

Next, he came in carrying a tiny dog who was yipping at him, “Yes, yes, Hermes. We all hear you.”

He set the dog down and he immediately ran over to Harry, still barking at him. Harry held out a hand to the dog to sniff, “Hello there.”

Hermes yipped at him and then ran over to Malfoy yipping before returning to Harry once more.

“Hermes thinks it’s his job to tell everyone everything. He basically never stops barking.”

“Aptly named then,” Harry said as he reached out and stroked a hand down his back.

“He’s part chihuahua, we’re certain,” Malfoy continued. “And he is trained and housebroken, his only problem is that he doesn’t stop barking.”

“Will a dog like this find a home?” Harry asked, even though he knew it couldn’t be with him.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied. “He’s young and healthy and has his basic training. There are people out there who will not mind his barking one bit.”

“I’m not one of them,” Harry said as he handed Hermes back to Malfoy.

“No,” he replied. “There are two more,” he said. “And while I think either of them could be right for you, I’m saving the one I think is perfect for last.”

“Alright.”

“I only say this so that you don’t fall completely head over heels for the next one before meeting Penelope.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry assured him.

A few minutes later he returned with a giant black dog ambling along behind him, “This is Gaia,” he said.

Harry’s heart melted as the dog walked straight over to him and flopped down on his feet. “Hello beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked through her thick fur.

“Gaia is a six-year-old Newfoundland mix. She is house trained already, she’s a very low energy dog but she’ll go on walks and play with you. She is a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, he brushed his thumb along her cheek and she stared at him with her big brown eyes. “Hi,” he said softly.

“She would love you unconditionally,” Malfoy said as he knelt beside Harry.

“Why do you think she isn’t perfect for me?”

“More than half of her life is already over,” Malfoy said. “Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.” He glanced down at the dog and stroked her side.

“But...” Harry prompted.

“But,” Malfoy said before taking a deep breath. “You’ve seen a lot of death,” he looked up at Harry then, his eyes so clear and sincere that they seemed to pierce into Harry’s very soul. “Newfies typically live 8-10 years.” He raised one shoulder, “She would be great for you, but she is going to leave you far too soon.”

Harry’s eyes stung and he looked away from Draco and down at Gaia who had fallen asleep. “Will she get adopted?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said without even a moment’s hesitation. “She is a sweet, sweet girl and people love big dogs. I give her two weeks in here tops.”

Harry stroked her ear between his fingers, “If I tell you to bring in the last one but decide I like her better?”

“You can still adopt her,” he said quickly. “Sending her back now doesn’t hurt a thing.”

He nodded once, “Alright.”

Malfoy nodded back, “Come on, Miss Gaia,” he said. “Up you get, you sleepy girl.”

She stood up, turning to look at Harry for a moment and wagging her bushy tail at him, before lumbering after Malfoy once more.

When he returned he was leading a small tan dog behind him. “This,” he said as he scooped her up, “Is Penelope.”

As Malfoy started to hand her to Harry she started wagging her tail so hard that her entire body wiggled with the movement. Harry laughed as he took her into his arms, “Well hello little one,” he said. She bumped her nose against his before licking his cheek. “Hi,” he said again.

She squirmed a bit, so he set her down, thinking this is where any that had gone wrong went wrong but she didn’t walk away, she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her front paws against his chest so she could lick under his chin.

He laughed and stroked down her sides, she was super soft and he said as much to Malfoy.

He nodded, “Yeah, our best guess for breed is a chihuahua-frenchie or chihuahua-pug mix. The pug or frenchie would account for the wrinkles that she gets in her forehead, how soft she is, her barrel chest, and the way her little ears look. Chihuahua would account for the long legs and slender build in spite of her barrel chest.”

She took her feet off Harry’s chest and Harry held his breath to see what she would do. She turned away and he thought that his mind was made up but then she turned in a circle in between his legs, then another, then a third before laying down pressed against his body as close as she could get.

Something made Harry feel like he was choking as he watched her settle against him.

“She likes you,” Malfoy said softly. “Miss Penelope is almost two. She is potty and kennel trained already but will need a little help learning basic commands, she’s relatively young so it shouldn’t be too hard. She doesn’t like going on walks when it’s too hot or too cold, but when the weather is nice she enjoys them. She likes to play fetch and she really likes to chew things. But her favorite thing is a lap to curl up on under a blanket.”

“She’s so small,” Harry said softly.

“Fifteen pounds,” Malfoy affirmed.

“Would she want to sleep in a kennel at night?” Harry asked.

“If you wanted her to,” he said.

“And if I didn’t?”

“She loves to get up on furniture with people. I’m sure she’d be glad to sleep in bed with you if that’s what you’re asking.”

She lifted her head up from where it was tucked against her chest and plopped it on Harry’s thigh, gazing up at him with warm caramel eyes.

“She would adore you,” Malfoy said softly. “I named her Penelope because I knew that whoever she chose as her person she would be unendingly faithful to.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, stroking her head before running her ear between his fingers.

Over the earpiece Malfoy was wearing, Harry could hear Annie requesting back up on the sales floor.

“Why don’t you two take a little more time together,” Malfoy said. “I’ll go check in with Annie and then when I come back you can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Penelope lifted her head as Malfoy left the room watching him until the door closed before turning to look at Harry.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, stroking his fingers down her side. “He’ll be back.” He picked her up, holding her in his arms like an infant, and she huffed a little breath before settling her head on his shoulder, tucking her nose into his neck.

“It’s alright,” he said again, even though she didn’t seem perturbed in the least. “What do you think, then?” he asked her. “Hmm?”

She pressed her nose against his neck and gave him a tiny lick.

“Do you want to come live with me?” he asked her.

Her tail twitched back and forth a few times.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he turned his head to press his face into the fur on her shoulder. “Hmm? You want to come home with me?”

More waggles and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Do you like the name Penelope?” he asked her, shifting her so that he could see her face, he brushed his thumb over her black whiskers and she turned her head away, “Well you don’t like that, do you?” he asked and he brushed his thumb under her eye to clear a little gunk. “Sorry, little one.”

She let out a little huff at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

He held her and pet her, talking to her softly. He fell completely in love with her in a matter of minutes.

When the door opened and Malfoy stepped back in, Harry said, “Can I take her home today?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said with a smile. “There’s a whole bunch of paperwork for you to fill out first but wait until you get a load of their quills. There’s no inkpot or anything.”

Harry laughed, “They’re pens, not quills.”

“You know about them?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“I lived with muggles after my parents died until I was 11. Yes, I know what pens are.”

Malfoy huffed, “Why wouldn’t you have brought them to Hogwarts? Why didn’t you use them there? It would have been so much smarter.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with pens,” Harry replied with a laugh.

“Well, that's probably true. But I was an idiot.”

Before Harry could say anything in response or even process that remark fully, Malfoy was reaching for Penelope, “Let me put her with the others while we get you squared away.”

“No!” Harry said quickly, clutching her tighter against him.

“I’ll give her back, I promise,” Malfoy said.

“Can’t she just stay with me?” Harry pleaded.

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, “Yes, alright, but don’t let her distract you from the work you have to do.”

“I won’t.”

“Here,” he said, holding out a contraption to Harry. “Put this on her, she can’t be loose out on the sales floor.”

“Err,” Harry said as he reached for it. “How do I?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Merlin, Potter. It’s a harness,” he said. “Here, set her on the floor and I’ll show you how to put it on her. It’s so you can walk her on a leash.”

“Can’t I just use a collar?” he asked.

“No,” Malfoy said as he lifted one of her front legs through a hole, then the other. “Small dogs, in general, do better with harnesses than collars. Unlike larger dogs, she has a more fragile trachea so we put a harness on her instead.”

“Is she okay, though?”

“Oh, yes,” he said quickly as he snapped the harness over her back. “Right,” Malfoy said, passing him the end of her leash. “This way, I’ll take you in to see Jeff and get her paperwork filled out.”

“Great, thanks,” Harry said, “Alright, Penelope,” he said, “let’s go.” She wagged her tail and stared up at him.

“Do you have the things you’ll need for your home?”

Harry shook his head, “Can I get those things here?”

“Yes. After you fill out her adoption paperwork.”

“Will you help me make sure I get everything she needs?” Harry asked quickly, afraid he’d miss something essential.

Malfoy gave him a smile and a small nod.

When they went to the office, Malfoy knocked on the door and someone, Jeff, Harry presumed, called for him to enter.

“Hi Jeff, this is Harry Potter,” Malfoy said, gesturing for Harry to enter the room. “He’s here to adopt Penelope.”

The man at the desk looked up over the top of his glasses and gave Harry a warm smile. “That is wonderful news! Come in.”

“I’ll just leave you to it, then,” Malfoy replied.

“Draco, you should stay. I’ve been meaning for you to learn more about the actual adoption process,” Jeff said.

It took a while to fill out all of the paperwork, but once they did, Jeff said, “perfect. Now there’s just the home visit and you’ll be all set.”

Harry looked over at Malfoy and Malfoy looked at him, both realizing at the same time what a bad idea it was to have a muggle come to his house.

“I’ll do it,” Malfoy volunteered quickly.

“Your shift is almost over,” Jeff said, looking at the clock on the wall. “I can take care of it.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “I don’t mind. We’re old,” he broke off, glancing at Harry, “friends,” he finished a bit awkwardly. “I’m helping him make sure he has everything he needs anyway.”

The other man nodded, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said, nudging Harry out of the office.

Malfoy helped him to buy supplies for her, laughing as Harry picked out far more toys and treats for her than he thought was necessary. The sales associate helped them to box everything up and Malfoy helped him carry everything out of the store. "How far do we have to walk?" Malfoy asked.

"Just a couple of blocks," Harry said. "Do you want me to take that?" he asked, offering him Penelope's leash in exchange.

He shook his head, "It's fine." He hoisted the box a little higher in his arms.

"Do you live near here, too?" he asked, watching Penelope trot along tail wagging as she sniffed.

"About twenty minutes by bus."

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Draco Malfoy riding a muggle bus, who would have thought it?"

But the other man didn't seem to find that amusing, he frowned, "I'm not the person you remember."

"No," Harry said quickly, "I know," he added. "I wasn't trying to say anything unkind."

"Sorry," Malfoy replied, shaking his head slightly, "It's been a while since I've seen anyone from the wizarding world." He paused then added, "People from the past don't generally say kind things."

Harry hummed, "The wizarding world is full of hypocrites and people unwilling to see the wrong they themselves have done." He shook his head, "It's a lot. It's why I left."

He nodded to the door ahead of them, "This is my house," he added.

"It's nice," Draco said.

"Thanks," he grinned as he opened the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize that I would be having company or I would have cleaned up a little more," he added as he let Malfoy inside.

He took the harness off of her and let her investigate her surroundings.

"Did you say that you aren't expecting company?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, keeping one eye on the dog as he started setting up her little bed and basket of toys.

"But it's your birthday," he said.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment before clearing his throat, "Do you have a back yard?"

"Yes," he said, glad for the change of subject, "This way," he added, nodding toward the back door. "It's fenced in but it's not very big, I'll take her on walks," he hastened to add as he opened the door. Penelope wandered out and started sniffing around and something warm unfurled in Harry's chest just watching her.

The other boy glanced out the door and nodded, "This is fine, it passes the inspection."

"Good," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Come on, Penny," he called and the little dog perked her head up and came dashing across the yard and back into the house."

"Penny, huh?" Malfoy asked with an amused little smile.

"For short," Harry nodded.

"I like it," he said as they turned and headed inside. "Well, I'll get out of your hair-"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Harry asked without really thinking about why.

Malfoy's brow furrowed, "Do you want me to?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "Only if you want to." When Malfoy didn't reply immediately he shook his head, "Never mind, it's silly. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm lonely, ignore me."

"No. I'd," he swallowed, "I'd like to stay for dinner, if you wanted. I just couldn't imagine that you'd want..." he trailed off.

"We're not the boys we were," Harry said, holding out a hand, "Harry Potter."

After a heartbeat Draco reached out and clasped his hand, "Draco Malfoy."

"Do you like pizza?" Harry asked.

He nodded, "As long as you don't put peppers on it."

"Done," he replied as Penny came over and put her paws up on his leg. He scooped her up and smiled, thinking for the first time in a long time that maybe everything was going to turn out alright.

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

Sorry friends, this one really got away from me. It's super long. I hope that you still enjoy it! <3 Lots of love, -c

Day 107: Charge | Day 109: Coffee Shop

[hyunverse]

BUNGA (FLOWER) | FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

gender neutral.

summary; you’re megumi’s dream person.

note; i wrote this bcs my birth name is actually a type of flower ugh the self indulgence also i like butterflies. also inspired by a song called bunga by masdo. i recommend listening to the song while reading. bunga means flower in malay!! also pls open the gif for better quality.

YOU REMIND MEGUMI OF A FLOWER. white orchids; they symbolize purity. and that’s exactly what you are to him.

fushiguro megumi remembers this one day when he and tsumiki had went to a flower garden together. he didn’t know why tsumiki suddenly felt like visiting a garden, but he followed anyway. he observed as his sister looked at the flowers around them, a smile never leaving her face and her eyes were practically sparkling. it felt nice to see his sister actually enjoy herself, especially after their parents got up and abandoned them, leaving tsumiki with all the house chores.

“look at all these flowers!”, tsumiki caressed the petals with her fingers, thumb gently gliding over the flowers, “they look so nice, don’t you think so megumi?”

megumi didn’t reply, he opted to stand beside his older sister. tsumiki explained the symbolisms of the flowers she knew of. the raven head looked stoic, as if he wasn’t listening to any of her words but the truth is, he was. he found the symbolism behind the white orchids particularly interesting. it suited the orchids’ physical appearance. white and innocence just made sense.

as the siblings chatted (though it technically was one sided on tsumiki’s part), a cat walked towards the duo. the ball of orange fur purred and nudged it’s head on tsumiki’s legs, immediately getting the teenage girl’s attention. she kneeled down, her previous smile growing wider.

petting the cat, she looked up at her younger brother, “aren’t cats so adorable?”.

“yeah,” megumi uttered. a lie. he wasn’t a big fan of cats, he found them annoying. dogs are better, that’s what he believed in but he didn’t have the heart to say that to his sister. not when she looks the happiest she had been in a while.

“and the weather’s really nice today!”, she added, eyes glancing up at the sky. the sun was glaring right into her eyes, so her pupils shrunk. she didn’t mind however, she had always loved sunny days. the sunlight shone right above their heads, and megumi didn’t like it. he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his back, causing his shirt to cling onto his skin. megumi much prefers when it’s cloudy, shades of grey in the sky, the perfect weather for staying at home and reading books.

even so, he just nodded, “mhm.”

shortly the sun started to set, spreading orange hues throughout the sky. flocks of birds returned to their nests, and so the fushiguro siblings made their way back to their abode. on their way tsumiki stole glances at her brother, letting out a dry chuckle everytime she notices the lack of expression on his face.

“you should smile more you know, megumi”, she ruffled his erratic hair, “you won’t get much friends if you keep on frowning like that”, she teased.

he grumbled, “i don’t care if i don’t have friends.”

megumi thought it was ridiculous. why would it matter, anyway? he’s fine being alone. people are bothersome; they’re too loud and they stress him out. especially the stupid punks in school who thinks they could do whatever they want. megumi simply shrugged and pushed his sister’s words out of his mind. scratch smiling and being likeable.

yet here he is, smiling at you. over no particular reason too.

currently, he’s walking along a beach with you. you; dressed up in a white sundress, a pair of sandals in your right hand. the sand burns under fushiguro’s feet but he couldn’t feel it over the fast thumping of his heart, he couldn’t feel the heat when his whole skin is tingling. he trolls behind you, walking over the footsteps you made. your sundress flows to the rhythm of your walk, flying slightly up when the wind blows your way, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. fushiguro looks away from your figure, his fair complexion tinted with blush.

you’re his best friend, he’s not supposed to look at you like that.

“it’s so nice here, megumi!”, you call out to him as you stand at the edge of the sea. waves crash, they trickle up to your toes. with a smile you hold up your hand for megumi to hold.

bashfully, megumi walks up to you and takes your hand in his. he’s reluctant, for he dislikes his hands. they’re cold and filled with callouses. so when you grip his hand as though you didn’t intend to let go, when your thumb rubs against his, he feels less insecure of his hands. the sensation of your hand in his is hot, it burns; however it feels nice.

megumi fushiguro hates warmth, but if it’s your warmth, he’d enjoy burning in heat.

the sand by the sea doesn’t feel hot on your feet. the waves get bigger and bigger; till they reach up to your ankles. you giggle because it tickled, the sound of your laughs reaching megumi’s ears. he turns to his side to see you crouching down, collecting the water in your hands.

that’s when megumi concluded, your whole existence screams purity.

a week later megumi meets you again. sometime at 11pm, by an oak tree—your usual meeting spot. the oak tree is large, it’s impossible to miss it. you stand under the oak tree, allowing dried leaves to fall onto your head, getting stuck in your hair. you know megumi would get all the leaves out of your hair. he does it everytime. he’ll pick out all the leaves out of your hair while lecturing you, though his words enter one ear then out from another. no matter how many times he says “i can’t do this all the time”, even he himself knows he would.

from afar megumi watches his best friend run around the flower field, chasing butterflies. your hair gets swept away by the wind as your hands stretch up to the sky, desperately trying to get a butterfly to land on your hand. you’re wearing a jumpsuit, the white color of the material truly brought out your skin tone. your complexion is glistening, and it makes megumi’s heart throb.

“they’re scared of you, y/n,” he finally says, putting both your hands down. the butterflies fly away from your sight, and you pout.

“but they’re so pretty,” you sigh, watching as the butterflies choose to fly anywhere but on your fingers. and then one lands on top of megumi’s shoulder.

your eyes widen, holding the sides of megumi’s figure to make him stay still. megumi could see sparks in your eyes when you admire the blue butterfly. soft is the expression you wear on your face. he likes it on you. that cute expression of yours makes megumi fall five times harder for you even when he knows he shouldn’t.

“you’re like a flower ‘gumi. it likes you.”

ridiculous, he thinks. you’re the flower. it’s obvious by the way your body moves under the moonlight, and how insanely beautiful you are.

fushiguro megumi doesn’t say anything in return, as always. he rarely does. if possible, he wants to avoid you from finding out just how in love he is with you.

after that day, you never show up under the oak tree, a few minutes distance from jujutsu high. he’ll wait for hours long only to be disappointed.

--at least not until his birthday comes, about a few months later. his face turns pale once he spotted you. you wait by the jujutsu high gate with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn’t ghost him for three months.

"glad to see you doing okay," the apple of your cheeks seem more prominent when you smile, megumi feels an urge to kiss them.

"i haven't seen you in so long," megumi mumbles, "happy to see you here today."

you grin and hold up your hand for him to take per usual, and didn’t mutter anymore words until the two of you reach a café in the outskirts of tokyo.

“nice café,” the raven comments , glancing at you. you’re wearing a puffy sleeved white blouse now—honestly, do you only own white clothes?

“found it on instagram”, you mutter, “i thought you’d like it. happy birthday, megumi.”

megumi smiles for the first time today. as a jazz song plays, he eats the birthday cake you purchased for him quietly. the cake tastes delicious (to be fair, anything you buy him is perfect) because it’s not too sweet. the fact that you remember his preference makes his smile grow a little wider.

you hum to the song and rest your head on his shoulder. it seems like the two of you are the only ones in the café—a much needed privacy. you’re usually touchy with him, and he prefers affection to be private. typically they make megumi blush, and he doesn’t want people to witness him all flustered.

“did you miss me, megumi?”, he replies to your question by nodding and placing his hand on top of yours.

serenity is this feeling, megumi thinks.

at the corner of the café stands an antique grandfather clock. it’s sounds are so loud, they resonate the whole environment. megumi suddenly becomes hyper aware of the sound, there’s a pounding in his head. the sound becomes louder and louder, to the point where megumi couldn’t feel your skin under his. he shuts his eyes close, an impossibly bright light glares his eyes.

“fushiguroooo!”, an annoying voice yells. itadori’s voice, megumi is certain.

the pounding in his head slows down. his sapphire eyes flutter open, and he realizes the light he saw was sunlight rays peeking through his blinds.

“seriously fushiguro, we’ve been calling you for an hour now. hurry up, we’re going out to eat in five. to celebrate your birthday”, megumi looks up to see nobara standing behind itadori. 

they’re both leaning against his door frame. itadori is dressed in a yellow hoodie, while nobara rocks a coat over a turtleneck. the female sorcerer holds her toy hammer tight in her grip, her eyes boring through megumi’s figure. by her posture, megumi guesses she was about to hit him with the squeaky hammer if only he didn’t wake up sooner.

fucking menaces, they could’ve left him to sleep for a little more. he hasn’t seen you in so long, he wanted to sleep in to spend time with you.

finally rubbing his eyes awake, the boy looks at the vase of orchids sitting on his nightstand. he sighs before standing up.

megumi will find you someday, he promises. if you’re a flower, he’ll gladly be the butterfly.

✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0 @sunaluvs @guardianangelswings @fairywriter-oracle @inu-makki @erinisbadger

tagging; @candleohappiness , @haru-senji <333

[vogueinnie]

HEAVEN OR HELL ; part. 2 TEASER - PART 1 - PART 2 - (...)

       ━ WARNINGS ; demon!hyunjin, virgin fem!reader

if you feel uncomfortable with the mentions of religion, please don’t read this story cause there are a lot blasphem, mentions of Lucifer and Mammon (Lucifer’s son)

corruption kink, fear kink, humiliation (and not only in a sexual way), mention of killing a cat, pet name (angel), manipulation, mention of alcohol (wine), reader is ashamed of herself, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral masturbation, grinding, very slight choking, slight possessive kink, no penetrative sex

     ━ WORD COUNT ; 3.3k      ━ NOTE ; part 2!!! the smut part is kinda... soft? but the naaaasty is coming!!! also sorry for that cliffhanger at the end zjfhdzfz. feedback are so welcomed!!

The sinister forest in which you walked every morning now was very different from the glittering glade you were used to. The trees were whopping and if you looked at them for too long you can see red eyes forming in the wood. Or was it your imagination ? No one never knows. No beautiful tulips, no cute birds tickling your ears with their cute whistles, no bunnies jumping here and there. Just dead flowers and a mortifying dead silence.

Everything was dead.

All the love and joy living in your heart were starting to fade away. You can’t even remember for how long you were stuck in this place you don’t belong. The time seemed to be unfairly long. The days were all the same, empty, but tormenting in a certain way. You even started to forget how it was, in Heaven.

But in your misfortune you were lucky. Mammon chooses you. He was one of the most powerful of this world, after all. You were constantly watched, mocked by the people living here for being an angel. But what was wrong in being good ? Hyunjin was walking you everywhere like a trophy, or a dog, exposing you to everyone with the leather leash he used on you the first time you both met. They all seemed both amazed and disgusted by you. 

“Why did Mammon chooses her ? Is she that special ? She’s an angel, how can he spends his day with her ?” were most of the words you were able to hear when you were around the devilish creatures. And Hyunjin never answers one of those questions, but his legendary smirk wnever left his face. It was ever more painful for you to understand that you were nothing but a toy for him. But what did you expect ? To be fully accepted as a sweet person ? Bullshits.

The only time he left you alone was on mornings. That’s why you always ended up in that scary forest near the huge castle you were left. Well, alone was a big word.

Jeongin was following you everywhere. He was Hyunjin’s personal and favorite servant. A strangely gentle and obedient demon. He looked young and pure, his beautiful angular face was surrounded by his dark blue hair. And you found that there were bright shades of red waiting to sparkle in his eyes. He was tall, not as tall as Hyunjin, but tall enough to be impressive.

There was no in between in this world. Demons were either painful to watch or absolutely breathtaking.

You were walking in the dead grass with him next to you, breathing the fresh matinal air. A beautiful black cat presents himself in front of the both of you, rubbing against your legs and purring loudly enough for you to hear.

A smile finally draws on your feature and you kneel to pat his head and scratch his chin. 

“Look, Jeongin ! He wants hugs, poor thing... You’re probably hungry... Jeongin nods, looking straight ahead. But it’s the first time I saw a black cat... Are they common here ? You turn your face to look at him with a smile but still, his mouth stay closed. Hm, yeah, I see... You whisper softly, a little discouraged by his constant silence with you, making you realize that you were really alone here.”

Still without a words, he resumes his walk towards the castle, silently asking you to follow him. And you did, with the cute animal on your step. You were playing with him, walking fast or slow to see if he was still behind you. A laugh escape your mouth seeing the fluffy cat struggling to follow your speed. Not that you were fast but he was a little bit confused.

You bump into someone not on purpose and immediately your blood went icy. Respectfully, and especially cause you were too scared to look at the demon in front of you, you bow your body so low it was almost painful for your back. But you better hurt yourself than being hurted by someone else. Especially in Hell.

“There, there, there... What do we have ? This voice... I knew you were stupid but not to the point of not looking where you are walking. His words were painful but you didn’t move an inch, not wanting to bother him even more. The cat behind you was meowing and if you could you would see the confusion on the man’s face. What’s this ? Jeongin, kill it.”

“No ! No, no ! N-no...? Your voice had suddenly risen to end up being very low. You lift up your chin to finally see Hyunjin in front of you. He was only dressed in a black silk bathrobe embroidered with golden pearls, his long hair was half-tied in a low ponytail and he was holding a glass of wine in his right hand. He... He doesn’t mean you any harm, Sir... He just wants a friend...? His laugh was cold and heartless and he was scanning your body up and down with his piercing eyes.”

Suddenly, you felt a cold sticky liquid running through your face and you just understood that he literally threw the wine in your face. Your lips were parted in shock and that’s the moment you could hear vicious laughs behind him. Of course, Lucifer’s son always need his public. He drops the glass on the ground, glass shattering into thousands of pieces near your feet. 

Hyunjin grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face close to his. Close enough to let his tongue slowly lick your cheek wet with wine.

“Remember when we first met, angel... What did I say ? A lot of things, actually. But you didn’t answer and he grab a handful of your hair.”

“That you wanted me ! A-and... That I was a mess... That you hated dirty things, Sir... You answer quickly with a shaking voice. He lets go of your face abruptly with a wide smile, nodding his face.”

“Yeah that’s it ! And what did you just make ? He pointed your face nonchalantly, making you whisper A mess with a tiny voice. A fucking mess, I hate it, in the name of Lucifer... I hate it ! His pupils were all black, you couldn’t even see the white in it. And you knew you messed up.”

He was hysterical and the screams, laughs and encouragements from the lower classes encourages him to act even more crazier. He grabs your wrist merciless to the applause of the crowd and he leads the two of you in the part of the castle which belongs to him.

Faster than you would have liked, you were in his room. It was always cold, not welcoming and way too dark for your eyes in need of nothing but sunshine. Hyunjin stayed silent but the creepy smile on his face was enough to makes you shiver in fear.

It was crazy how easily he switched from being insane to quiet.

Once you were in his private bathroom he made you look at you through the big golden mirror in front of the black marble bathtub. And you could see the damage, the deep red liquid running down your face, some strands of your hair are wet and the front of your black lace dress is also ruined with wine. You feel your back burning from his stares, and it’s even more humiliating than your physical condition.

“I think my angel needs to take a bath, don’t you ? You nod slowly, playing nervously with your fingers. What are you waiting for ? Go ahead.”

You look up at him leaning against the door frame, panicked. He raises an eyebrow and you shake your head. No, impossible. You probably misunderstood. Or he misspoke. How can you get naked in front of him ?

“Need some help, maybe ?” 

Still through the mirror you can see him approaching you to stand behind you. Your body was frozen, not that you were afraid, but you were mostly intimidated. Your aura may be a pink pale tone but his own was... Like a dark shade of the deepest blue. The ocean itself is bright compared to what emane from this demon. 

He puts your hair on the right side of your neck to have a full access of the left side one. His breath against your shivering skin was hot, and it probably burns you in the best way. The warmth and the softness of his lips against your skin were painful and you couldn’t help biting your lips and squeezing your eyes.

The inner fight you waged against yourself scared you more. Do you really want to push him away ? Or can’t you wait to be naked for him ?

Slowly, his long fingers trail the curve of your body, from your shoulders, to your waist, your hips, but strangely... Never your intimate parts. And you swear, at that right moment, you needed that more than you could ever imagine. Your body was squirming against his and slowly he grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Look at you, angel. You open your eyes to see your back totally glued to his chest, making you blush in an instant. Don’t be shy with me, I told you. I’m your owner, there’s no need to be shy. You couldn’t stop looking at him and when he pushes his thumb against your lips you opened it to take it in your mouth and to start sucking it. He chuckles, nibbling your ear, his hot breath awakening all your senses. So nasty, are you really a child of God ?”

His last sentence makes you shiver. He was right. Did you deserve to be considered pure when you wanted him so badly ?

Hyunjin slowly untie your dress and the unknown feeling of being naked in front of someone was as arousing as scaring. Only his sharp eyes was touching you. As usual, he was looking at every details of your body and you can tell how badly he restrains himself to not put his hands all over your frame.

Why was he even nice ? He was almost hysteric few minutes ago. But the answer was evident... He was a demon, after all. They don’t need an excuse to act like crazy.

You didn’t move, looking shamefully at your body for reacting to every ones of his caresses, looks and words.

He takes you out of your mind, grabbing your wrist to lead you in the bathtub, hot smoke escaping from it due to the water. You put your body in it and you look at him undressing. He was as naked at you. His body was slim, his thighs and abdomen were muscular, his body was sculpted by the the God himself. 

How funny is it to think that when he’s the son of Lucifer himself.

It doesn't take long for him to join you, placing his body behind yours. You didn’t know if it was because of the water relaxing all of your nerves, or his strangely calm aura, but you felt good. Hyunjin grabs your shoulders to make your body leans against his, slipping his wet hands on your face to clean your features from the liquid that he himself threw at you. 

A little sigh escape your mouth and you allow yourself to pretend that you’re not in Hell. That you’re in your own room with all your green indoor plants surrouding you. You even have the impression that your favorite sugary smell is all over you, and you can even feel Felix scratching you neck and chin cause he knows how much you like that.

Wait... But you’re not in your room. And there’s no Felix.

Hyunjin started to kisses your neck slowly, licking your skin with the tip of his tongue, making you moan unintentionally. You open your eyes, ashamed of how pathetic you melt in the hand of the one and only Demon who can controls you. He probably feels your body tense and he starts to draw some invisible circles against your tummy.

“It’s funny how I want to protect you and ruin you at the same time. You bite your lips, gulping slowly just imagining the two situations. Yeah, it’s funny. How I want to take care of you, kiss you everywhere, makes you feel good. His words are accompanied by gentle caresses, he brushes your boobs with his fingertips, making you shiver and squirm against him. Even if he was behind you you can feel his gaze on your naked body exposed to him. How I want to hurt you in the goodest way, makes you beg and cry. He pinches one of your already hard nipple with two of his fingers and again, you moan softly. Isn’t it supposed to hurt ? Then why does it feels good ?”

He chuckles when he hear your voice, rubbing now your two buds in his digits. You can’t control your body and the sensation you’re feeling and quickly you came to the conclusion that you want more. You want to feel more, you want that heatness in your body to be more intense, to explode.

The back of your head falls against the crook of his neck and his strong woody smell makes you loose your mind. Hyunjin turns his head to put his forehead against yours while his fingers travel all around you naked figure against him. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere, it's like he can touch your whole body at the same time.

“Don’t stop looking at me. He whispers in a low voice, his eyes fixed on yours.”

You nod slowly even tho it’s difficult for you to stay focused when one of his hands glides along your exposed pubis. His other hand is still firmly gripped to your boob, massaging it in both a soft and harsh way. It was his power. To be gentle and rough.

Instinctively you open your legs. More, more, more. That’s all you can think about right now. And it seems that he exactly understand what you want. More. His long fingers run through your womanhood, wet because of the water, but not only. You can feel how burning it is, how good it feels when he slides them against your two intimates lips. More. You try to keep your eyes open as much as possible to not break the intense contact you’re sharing. A little oh escape your lips when he circles his fingers around that tiny, little, swollen bud. More, you want more.

“You don’t have that in Heaven, uh ? You never felt that good, did you ? You shake your head, half closed eyelids due to everything you’re feeling. That’s the real Heaven, angel.”

His wide black dilated pupils were magneficient, you couldn’t even think of looking away. He continues to rubs your most sensitive area and the hot water just help everything to be more soother and slicker. He teases your nipple, kissing the tip of your nose with a smirk drawns on his beautiful lips and you start to buck your hips up to feel more of the frictions he was offering to you. Slowly, you grip his wrist to push his hands even more against your intimate area. He chuckles, again, at your eagerness and soft moans crash on his lips when he taps your pussy. It was tickling, weird, but oh so good at the same time.

Slowly he grabs your waist to turn your body around so that you are facing him. And it’s even more intimidating to see Hyunjin with his eyes totally lost in the luxurious world. Almost automatically you stick your body to him, surrounding his waist with your legs.

If only you know that doing that made your pussy crash against his, you can really feel it, hard and pretty long dick. Your cheeks were now probably a bright tint of red. And you can see that he wasn’t in a better state.

“S-sorry ! I didn’t meant to do that, Sir !”

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Do it again, can you ? You nod slowly, pressing your two hands on his shoulders to give you a little bit of support. You move your hips slowly against his body, his hard-on hitting your core everytime you moved. Yeah, just like that, keep going... How does it feel ?”

Your only answer was to nod again and bite your lips. It felt too good to be real. Your two bodies stick together were hot and you swear, the burning flames in Hell wasn’t as hot as you. One of Hyunjin’s hand was grabbing your waist to help you move and grind above him while the other one found their way to your exposing neck. 

All of your body was covered with shivers and you didn’t know if the cause was his eyes on you, his hands gripping your throat without squeezing it, or your core sticking and rubbing on his rosy tip. 

“You’re mine. You can hear his hoarse voice whispering in your ear as he still grab your throat in a possessive way while his hand on your waist tighten it firmly. You’re mine. I choose you not only cause I know you were obedient... His hips buck up into yours, making the both of you crash your crotch together in a moaning symphony. Because I knew you were going to love it a lot more than you should.”

You felt light-headed for a moment. Hyunjin’s words was arousing, making you feel like the dirtiest angel. And it was too much. Too much new sensations for your body. The knot in your stomach were growing to the point that it was consuming you so you speed your own pace, helped by his hands, his breath, his moans, even his praises “pretty, hot, good girl” were the only words you were focused on. You felt enveloped by your devastating orgasm, your face leans back and a silent moan escapes your parted lips. It was difficult for you to keep your eyes open, your bordy starts to shake against his and you scratch his shoulders to hold on to reality. It was insanely good to be on cloud nine, a soft smile draws on your lip as every muscles of your body relaxed and tensed at the same time. 

You feel him chasing his own high, patting his veiny and leaking dick on your swollen and overstimulated bud. You wanted to escape his touch as much as you wanted him to keep doing that delicious feeling.

You let yourself totally go in his arms when the both of you come back down from your high. Hyunjin was as breathless as you and he rubs your back in slow caresses, kissing your temples with a little grin.

“I bet Felix never made you feel that way. You frowned your eyebrows, why was he talking about Felix now ? You lift your face to look up at him in a confused way. Oh, you probably didn’t know... You shake your head slowly. He was my servant. You both have the same disgusting sugary smell. ”

Your jaws dropped and you blink your eyes. Felix, the purest heart you have ever known was once... A demon ?

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

    ━ TAGLIST ; @sailorhyunjinz - @minholuvs - @that-anxious-bisexual - @ohmysparkle - @yuminsung - @minaamhh - @kittykatvenom - @bubblelixie - @imagineinnie - @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot - @etherealeeknow - @linours - @starry-jinnie @p0t4t0don14ll - @straytannies - @binnie-m00n - @formidxble - @skzcvre - @titleisyettobemade - @bythesunnotbythemoon - @nada-disso - @characha - @lizsvcks - @pxnidxjks - @ninjaleeknow - @solistired - @keloiu - @staaaaaa - @journalskz - @bubbl3gunz - @tinyminari - @hyuneytoast - @s4ilor-m4rs (if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to send me an ask!)

[imaginarypeteel]

A Little Problem

Mateo Chavez x reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: A new cat in a shelter you volunteer at has caught your attention and your cat allergic boyfriend is worried

Requested by anon

Genre: I think fluff? Maybe a lil angst?

The relationship between you and Mateo was great. The two of you didn't fight much, you worried for his safety but knew he loved his job, got along with his crew and family, so did he with your friends and family. It was amazing. Really.

There was just one thing bothering the man.

You were a perfect example of a to-be cat lady. Your phone gallery was full of cats, your house decorations had cats, your keychain was a cat, your follow list on all of social media were mostly cats, your comfy clothes were about cats, the books you had were about cats, your search history was about cats, you volunteered at cat shelters and you absolutely wanted a cat.

The problem?

Mateo is allergic to cats.

Now you tried to play it off like it didn't bother you and said that you don't want a cat (which was an obvious lie of course).

The man knew that a cat at a shelter had even caught your attention like it was the most captivating thing in the world. One day you came home from volunteering and - after getting rid of all the cat fur that was on you - started talking on and on about a new siamese like cat that was brought in.

Mateo felt bad about it. He felt like he was holding you back from doing something you longed to do.

So he just sat back and silently listened to you ramble on and on about the pretty blue-eyed feline while he thought if he should let you go.

~~~***~~~

"Hey! Probie? Are you listening?" Marjan asked seriously as she gently pushed Mateo.

"Hm? Sorry, yeah, um, what were you saying?" he apologized as he washed the inside of the door handle.

"Do you think we should take Buttercup away for a while, so she could see that we are great too and TK is not that awesome?" Paul asked while throwing a glare at the younger Strand.

TK just shook his head playfully, "You're being stupid. The dog just likes me better because there's much more to like."

Marjan and Paul immediately protested at his words but Mateo stayed quiet.

Eventually, the others noticed his silence as well, when he didn't argue with TK's remarks and eyed him oddly but he didn't notice. Way too busy thinking what would be the best course of action with your cat ladiness.

When the silence continued from the young man during the whole shift and he even made mistakes with the easiest things, Marjan decided to bring it up while she, Mateo and Paul were walking home.

"Hey Probie, you alright? You've been weird today," she said with worry while setting her hand on his shoulder gently.

"Hm? Oh, uh yeah, I guess um..." he wasn't sure how to tell the two of them what's bugging him but he didn't even get a chance to try.

"Let me guess. Something about you and Y/n?" Paul worded knowingly as he eyed his friend.

"Yeah... Um, she really really likes cats and i mean really. And now there's this cat that she has been rambling about for weeks and you know i am allergic and she says it's fine and she won't take a cat and doesn't want to but it's painfully obvious and-" Mateo lowered his gaze and sadly watched his feet move while they walked. "And i feel like I'm holding her back and i don't want to do that. I want her to be happiest she can be and i feel like i can't give her that," the man mumbled while scratching his arm with discomfort.

Marjan massaged his shoulder and exchanged a look with Paul who shrugged his shoulders as he didn't know what to do either. She slid her tongue over her teeth as her dark eyed gaze returned to the young man. "Don't worry, we'll think of something. For now, just go home and hug her," she comforted him when they reached the front of your and Mateo's apartment.

~~~***~~~

When they were at work the next time and - as always - Mateo had to prepare lunch for the crew. His phone pinged bird like, so the man carefully sneaked towards the object, fingers spread cramped as he didn't want to stick them together with the dough. When he checked what it was, a small smile stretched on his face. You often sent him messages during work to send him motivational quotes, cheer him on or just tell him what to do at home if he got there before you.

His smile dropped and he sighed as he saw that you had sent him a text but it also included a picture. A picture of you at the cat shelter, blowing a kiss at him through the phone. And while the focus of it wasn't on any cat, he could still see the grey and white cat calmly sitting on your shoulder.

Babe❤️: I hope my favourite firefighter is kicking emergencies asses

Babe❤️: Be safe Matty and come back home, love you

Babe❤️: [picture]

Mateo nibbled on his lip before texting back.

Hey darling, we haven't been too busy today

Is that her?

He has waited a bit to say that, thought it over few times, unsure if he wanted to go deeper into the cat talk.

Few Seconds went by before he got a reply.

Babe❤️: Yesssss, daz Jamie. Isn't she gorgeous?

Babe❤️: Btw, how's Buttercup and the crew? I saw a video of Marjan's hijab coming off. Is she okay?

And just like that, the man's smile was back. Of course you'd worry about the others.

She's a bit off but otherwise okay. You can talk to her after work I guess.

Babe❤️: Okay, fingers crossed everything will turn out okay

Babe❤️: I have a new client tomorrow, so I'll be out most of the day but I'll try to find time to hangout with her

You worked as a landscape designer for a small but averagely successful company. He was very proud of you because you got to do what you loved and you did it with passion.

"Okay, when you're done texting, tell us what that sigh was about," his train of thought was interrupted by his crewmates who were all staring at him with curiousity and worry.

"Oh! It was nothing," he laughed it off and returned to making lunch.

To the young man's horror, he hadn't closed his phone properly and Paul and Marjan couldn't help but get nosy.

The woman grabbed his phone and swiped a bit. "Damn dude, you are whipped," she laughed with Paul. Mateo rose a brow at them before his eyes widened and with rosy cheeks, he told them off.

"By the way, is she with cats right now. Aren't you allergic to cats? Is that why you're sighing?" Paul asked while placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Mateo stopped mixing the dough, his shoulders shagged and he sighed loudly.

"Yeah actually, I love her so much and I know she does too but if you'd only see how her eyes light up when she gets to talk about cats. Especially that one, Jamie. She says she doesn't need a cat and is happy with what we have and that we can take a dog in the future but I know a cat is what her heart yearns for, that cat is what her heart years for. I feel like I'm holding her back from doing something she wishes she could do. I feel like it will slowly drive us apart. I won't be able to handle that."

The crew was silent for a while, all sympathizing with the dark haired young man and thinking of a possible solution, so the couple wouldn't have to break up over a cat.

"You know, before I told her I was allergic, she told me a past experience she had with an ex and her cat at the time..."

~~~

"You know, my ex absolutely hated cats. He was that dog person who only worships dogs and every other animal is dirt in their eye, especially cats," you scowled while rubbing butter on your bread as the two of you waited for your food to be brought out. "He met my cat once and even though Marshimallowy gave off clear signs of irritation and to back off, he still touched him and of course he scratched him then," the e/c eyes of yours made a big roll while saying that. "He then complained that if I want him to stay, I have to give him up. Like hello? You invaded his space and are demanding I give him up? He has been with me since I was a teenager and tolerated my complaining and comforted me through hard times but I have known your sorry ass for only few weeks," you angrily bit your bread and rubbed your forehead. "So like, of course I broke up with him cause absolutely no one can tell me to give up my pet. No one. If they do, they aren't worth my time," you simply said as you sipped wine. For a moment you got a sad face, "He died a bit after that but those few more weeks i got with him after that were worth more than spending a lifetime with that guy and his super loud hunting hounds. Not to say i don't like dogs, i just hate dog people."

~~~

"But you aren't like that, Probie," Marjan comforted him as she put her hand on the young man's shoulder.

At around that time, Captain strolled around to get his coffee because can he survive without it? Probably not. "And what are you all gathering here for? Did Probie do something?"

Mateo just quietly turned around and showed the New York man the picture on his phone. The captain glanced at the photo and rose his brow. "Okay? You and Y/n got a hypoallergenic cat? Why is everyone so quiet and sad about that?"

It took Mateo few seconds to process his Captain's words before he wide-eyedly mumbled, "What? What do you mean?"

Owen looked at the photo again, "That's clearly a siamese cat, they are hypoallergenic."

Mateo's eyes started shining and wide smile spread on his face. "For real?! Oh my- Thanks cap, you probably just saved my relationship." Come to think of it, he never really sneezed or had hard time breathing or had any other allergic signs after you came from the shelter.

~~~

You were fumbling with your keys somberly, your client had flipped when he saw that a woman was going to landscape his high end garden and immediately he stopped being a client and cut contacts with your company. Now even after handling your papers, you were still mad at the sexist rich man and went to the cat shelter, so you could cuddle with Jamie before ranting to Mateo while cuddling with him. But when you got to the shelter.

Jamie was adopted.

Now of course you were glad that the cat was going to have a home after you found her abonded and close to death because "she is too mischievous" is what her former owners said when the shelter contacted them after finding a microchip. But you were still sad that you couldn't hug your favourite cat anymore.

Opening the front door, you slid in and started taking off your shoes.

"Welcome home, babe," called Mateo from the kitchen.

"Hi, thanks," you dragged out while rubbing your head a bit. You didn't mind showing your emotions beside Mateo. He wouldn't judge you, you know that.

You slowly padded towards the dark haired man and wrapped your arms around his torso, nose pushed into his back. Not noticing the pet food bowls in a corner.

"Bad day?" he asked as he rolled the rice around in the pan. You didn't reply vocally but nodded, face rubbing against his navy blue shirt. "Well the food will be ready in a bit, can you set the table?" he asked gently. Leaving the spatula beside the pan and rubbing your hands softly.

You whined a bit but retreated your arms from around his strong body and took few steps to his left and opened a cupboard. Rising to your tippy-toes a bit, you reached for the plates and took two cups from beside them. You set the dishes on the table before sliding towards the fridge in your socks and opening it, quickly you skimmed over what you had. "What do you want to drink?" you asked your boyfriend, mood lightening a bit.

"Juice is fine for now," he answered while reaching to the cupboard a bit higher than the plates and cups and got a bowl. In few seconds, all of the cooked rice was in the bowl. He really is swift in the kitchen.

You grabbed a pack of plum juice and slid back to the table. You chose the cup with your zodiac sign, so he could have the "I'm a firefighter being hot is my job" cup. Suit him well.

Mateo put the bowl of rice on the table and stilled, his beautiful dark eyes ran over what you had set before chuckling.

You stared at him with confusion as he opened the drawer with knives and forks and spoons and teaspoons and etc. Brain lagging like an old laptop that has way too many games downloaded and forced to run them, it took you few seconds to realize you hadn't taken out the cutlery. E/c eyes widened, you smacked your lips, "Oh my gosh, Teo, I'm so sorry!"

He laughed as he took out the necessary items, "it's okay, darling." He handed you a fork and a knife and placed a pair on his plate aswell.

You expected him to sit with you as you placed your butt on a chair but instead of that, he bent down, and opened the big drawer with dry food in a way that gave you a nice view of his ass while you wondered what he was getting from there. With confusion, you watched as he took out a bag of cat food.

"Babe why did you-" you stopped talking when you noticed a pale colored cat rubbing itself against your boyfriend's feet. You could recognize that feline anywhere. "Jamie!" you exclaimed and jumped out of your seat.

The cat looked towards you with perked ears and meowed back at you, she came towards you and rubbed her side against your legs before returning to your boyfriend.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched Mateo pour some of the cat food in a red bowl. "B-But I don't understand... T-Teo you're allergic! Why-Why would you-" you mumbled.

Mateo pet Jamie few times as he put the bowl on its stand. The dark eyed man smiled at you before coming closer and engulfing you in a warm hug. "She's a siamese cat, hypoallergenic. Of course I'll still have an EpiPen nearby but i can enjoy her presence now too," he explained and rubbed his nose against yours. "You kept talking about her and I felt guilty for keeping you from her but thankfully" - he pecked your nose - "i was told that i won't die in her presence."

Few tears slipped down your cheeks before you squeezed the life out of your favourite firefighter. "Oh Mateo! I'm so sorry for making you feel like you have to do something like this but thank you, really."

"Hey, I'll get to finally enjoy cats too and see what you've been talking about all the time."

~~~

The two - well three of you were in your bed, Mateo being the pillow of the two. Your head was rested on his left arm while Jamie found comfort on his strong chest.

"Mateo," you mumbled.

"Hm?" he hummed, hypnotized by the purring furball.

"You attract the best pussy," you yawned before closing your eyes.

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

I'm sorry, online school hogged up all my time(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

[callivich]

This is pure silly, crack where Ian and Mickey are cats and fall in love. Inspired by @gallacats ❤️

🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛

Mickey had seen Gallagher around. He was bright ginger with stripes in different shades of orange, so he was kinda hard to miss. Also, he was huge. Mickey had wondered if he was part Maine Coon or one of those other giant breeds because he was so damn big. And he was friendly like a dog, which was just weird. They were cats, they weren’t supposed to brush up against the legs of any and all strange humans that showed any interest, they weren’t supposed to fall asleep in the middle of the sidewalk belly up, and they definitely weren’t supposed to offer food to other cats that they barely knew.

Ian knew Mickey, everyone knew the Milkovich cats. They all looked like they had been in a fight or like they were seconds away from being in one. Mickey was small for a Tom cat, black all over with white paws that were often grey because they were so dirty, a tear in one ear, his fur scruffy, and more often than not he could be found nursing a scratch or two. He had blue eyes though, which Ian thought was kind of pretty and unusual. Whenever he saw Mickey, he always found himself staring. Which usually led to Mickey hissing if he noticed.

They weren’t friends, so Ian didn’t know why he was sharing the rather large fish he had stolen from an open delivery truck. But as he had tucked into his prize in an empty alley, Mickey had appeared out of nowhere and began to stare at him, licking his lips. So he offered. Because, why not? It was hard on the South Side and Ian wasn’t going to eat the whole fish and it would be too difficult to carry the rest home to his siblings. He might as well share it rather than it go to waste.

“Help yourself.”

Mickey tensed, as if what Ian had said was a joke. When no punchline came, he tentatively moved forward. “Seriously?”

“Sure. It’s good.” Ian went back to eating, occasionally glancing up to note that Mickey was inching closer.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“Fucking stupid to share.”

“No it isn’t. I won’t be able to finish it so-”

“You sure? You’re the size of a fucking dog.”

Ian didn’t know what to say to that. “Ok? Still doesn’t mean I can eat this whole thing.”

“Move then.” And before Ian could do anything, Mickey was shoving him out of the way, and sticking his face into the fish. He was messy, bits of fish flying everywhere. Maybe Ian was the size of a dog, but Mickey sure did eat like one.

Within minutes, he was done and he was sauntering off, out of the alley without another word.

“Bye?” Ian called. “And you’re welcome!”

Fucker, Ian thought.

———————

Ian didn’t see Mickey for about a week. And although he’d almost forgotten about the moment in the alley, he had thought about Mickey a couple of times. Wondering if the reason that he was kind of on the thin side was because he wasn’t good at hunting. He always seemed to be impatient and prone to hissing and fighting which brought a lot of attention. The wrong kind. Ian knew that if you wanted to hunt or steal food, you had to be patient and quiet so that the birds you were hunting or the humans you were stealing from didn’t notice. Something he didn’t think Mickey was good at. Chances were he was not great at getting regular meals. The other option was to be friendly to the humans and get scraps, another thing Ian was good at and he would bet money, that is…if cats had money, that Mickey wasn’t good at that either.

A few times he had thought about the blue eyes and the pleasant smell that he remembered noticing as Mickey had shoved him out of the way that day. But he wasn’t thinking about that right then. He was lying in the middle of the sidewalk, sunbathing, stretched out and almost falling asleep. Yes, he was happy. So happy and so relaxed that he didn’t hear the low growl of a dog.

It all happened really quickly, one minute Ian was alone and then the next a dog was slobbering and growling all over him, angry for no reason that Ian could think of. He jumped up, ready to fight, because if being a stray cat on the South Side taught you anything, it was how to fight. But before he could arch his back or hiss or spit or do anything. A blur of black fur was throwing itself at the dog, screeching and scratching and scaring the shit out of the surprised dog.

A human was calling the dog away from the cats, taking the danger away within seconds. And then there was just Mickey, still with a fluffed up tail and a mean look in his eyes. Ian came up beside him, in awe of the way Mickey had defended him. He nudged his head against Mickey’s, a soft thank you.

“Fuck off.”

Ian crept backwards, alarmed at the mean tone in Mickey’s voice. “What? I was saying thanks.”

“Don’t need a thanks.”

“You’re fucking weird. I’m just trying to be nice.”

Mickey turned to look at him, his body relaxing. He looked around, his tail flicking one way and then another. Ian got it then - Mickey was nervous. He probably wasn’t used to other cats being nice to him.

Sitting down in a casual position, he stretched out again on the warmth of the sidewalk. “I know you don’t want a thanks, but thank you.”

“You’re a dumbass. Shouldn’t be so fucking stupid….lying here where any dog or nasty human could come along.”

“Not all dogs and humans are bad.”

“Maybe not. But enough that you should be careful.”

“Why do you care if I’m careful or not.”

“Don’t. But….someone has to steal fish and if you’re gonna risk it, might as well let you.”

————————

Mickey didn’t care. He didn’t. He didn’t care that Ian had offered him fish when he was starving, like it was no big deal. He didn’t care that Ian was friendly to him even though everyone knew the Milkovich cats were trouble. He didn’t care that Ian was sort of nice to look at….there weren’t a lot of ginger cats around and none of the other ones had the mix of orange colours on their fur and the striking green eyes that Ian had. He didn’t care. And he definitely didn’t spend anytime thinking about this. It was just….Ian was obviously too trusting and a dumbass, so he had to step in and save him from the dog. Mickey was an asshole but he wasn’t going to just watch Ian get mauled for no reason. He was just returning the favour for the fish. That was all it was. Nothing else.

Ian didn’t have to be weird about it. But of course he was, looking at Mickey with wide eyes and practically vibrating in his need to brush up against him. He calmed down after Mickey told him to fuck off, but he was still obviously wanting to come closer. And Mickey couldn’t have that. He had a reputation. He didn’t need giant ginger Gallagher following him around, even if he did steal the best fish.

“I can steal more fish, if you like? I know all the best delivery spots.”

“Whatever.” Just the thought of this was making Mickey’s stomach rumble but he tried to play it cool.

Ian was stepping closer, Mickey thought he could hear a soft purr. Fuck. Now he felt like purring. Stupid Gallagher.

——————

Later, when Ian thought about it, he wasn’t sure why he did it. But he couldn’t help it - Mickey looked so good, scruffy and a bit dirty, but good nonetheless. And Mickey had just saved him from a dog. So, yes, he rubbed his head against Mickey’s and licked his face a bit - a thank you, but also, an ‘I like you’.

“Hey.” Mickey smacked him in the face with one paw. “What the fuck?”

“Just…you got something on your face.”

Ian wondered if Mickey had been taught how to clean himself, maybe he didn’t know. So, he shoved his face into his and licked again.

—————————

Mickey knew that there were cats who loved each other, licking and cleaning one another, sleeping together, watching each other’s backs, sharing food. He didn’t have that. So, of course, he was a bit stunned when Ian tried it. He was used to being alone. And, if he was honest, being a stray cat on the South Side, alone and vulnerable, was not great. He was constantly getting into fights and struggling to find food and sometimes it was cold at night and he had thought that it would be nice to curl up with another cat. Gallagher would probably be very warm - what with him being huge and all.

Whatever. He’d come this far, he might as well see where this goes.

———————

Mickey let Ian get close, like cats that were close usually did. They snuggled for a bit before Ian led him to a fish delivery and stole one hell of a delicious fish for them to share in a moonlit alley. It tasted wonderful, but the best part was when Mickey led Ian to his secret hideout - in an abandoned building. He had stolen blankets and other soft things he could find and had created a little nest. Ian immediately jumped into it and Mickey followed, it felt strange curling up with another cat but they quickly adjusted into a comfortable position. Yes, Mickey could get used to this.