#hopped up on pain meds giggling weakly

[link-sans-specs]

Did I fall? Where's Rhett? What time is it? Does my mom know? Evidently, I've hurt my head. (Note the order of those. 😏)

I busted my ass! 🎶

Mythical Society

Never Before Seen- Broken P elvis Song

BONUS: See it right there? That's my pelvis.

[karlyanalora]

Life is a Joke (Might as Well Laugh)

Prompt: Day 4 Laughter and Bonding

Warnings: Mentioned drunkenness, impairment due to painkillers

Relationships: Fox & Rex, Fox & Wolffe, Grizzer & Hound

Characters: Commander Fox, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, Nala Se, Grizzer, Seargent Hound, mentioned Riyo Chuchi and Plo Koon and Padme Amidala

@loving-fox-hours

Peals of laughter echo off the walls. The noise hurts Nala Se’s ears, but unfortunately, laughter is important for human development. CC-1010 is tickling CT-7567, who is rolling on the ground with tears streaming down his face. He is smiling though, so Nala Se is very confused. She leaves shaking her head.

“Had enough, Rex’ika?” Fox asks.

“No, never!” Rex cries as he struggles in vain to turn the tables.

“Alright,” Fox says with a shrug before he attacks the bottoms of Rex’s feet.

Rex laughs so hard he can’t breathe. He struggles valiantly until he can get enough air to stutter out “Yield!” in between giggles.

Fox hops off and gives a cry of mock betrayal when Rex weakly tackles him, still too winded from laughing.

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

“And then the senator says, ‘I am a strict animal rights activist; I would never do anything to harm any living creature.’ And I have to bite my tongue because I know for a fact he shoots tookas from his window every morning. And Senator Chuchi knows it. But this guy is as drunk as they come and trying so hard to impress her. And she just smiles and nods, smiles and nods.”

Wolffe howls with laughter and Fox gives him a look. “Wolffe, it is not that funny.”

“But it is!” Wolffe slurs.

Fox looks at his glass of Jawa Juice. Wolffe is as high as a Star Destroyer right now from pain meds. Still, it’s good to hear him laugh. Maybe Fox can squeeze in a few more visits before Wolffe gets his cybernetic eye put in.

“Not as funny as Plo Koon’s dad jokes. I heard him let one slip in a meeting and Mace just stared at him. The whole room went silent before Mace one-upped him with another dad joke. I hear you catch them from Padawans. And apparently clones too.”

Wolffe gives a small snort in his sleep and Fox pulls up his covers.

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

Senator Amidala wanted proof of their “humanity”. And nothing was more human than singing in the sonic.

Everyone knew when Hound got back from his late-night early morning patrols with Grizzer. He’d hop in the sonic and starting singing at the top of his lungs “You Are My Sunshine”. The whole building could hear him as he bellowed. Hound was loud and unfortunately for the Guard, he had the musical talent to match that of a drunk Mastiff. (The Guard would know what that sounds like, also thanks to Hound.) He could go through the whole song twice before his shower time was up.

Fox signaled to Thorn that it was time.

They peered around the corner, thankful for the first time that a sonic, unlike a real shower, worked with your blacks on. Thorn held up the holovid recorder and hit record just as Grizzer joined in by howling along.

Fox wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know how I feel about a Mastiff sharing our sonic,” he whispered.

“I always thought he just sat outside,” Thorn admitted. “Though he does look cute with his jowls blowing in the wind.”

“YoU ArE My sUnSHINE! My onLY sunSHINE!” Hound continued to sing at the top of his lungs. “You make me hAppy when SKIes are gray. You'll never know DEAR, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine AWAY!” He held that last note for a painfully, earsplitting, long time.

Fox tried hard not to laugh as it became increasingly clear Hound was singing about Grizzer. He finally cracked when Hound got down on the floor and pulled Grizzer close as they howled the last part of the chorus together.

Hound’s face was priceless when he realized he’d been caught. “Commander!”

“As...you were...soldier.” Fox managed to get out between guffaws.

Thorn steeled himself with all his training to hold the camera steady and hit “send.”

The next day the holonet exploded.

@loving-fox-hours

[perpetually-jungshook]

Taehyung: Deer in the Headlights

a one shot, off-shoot request of the series: A Very Tragic Boy with Enormous Wings

Private request: ...then I wish for a conclusion on [Wings] vmin || I wish to know what happened after chim lost his wings. Did they meet again? How did they meet in the first place? Are they good friends or romantically involved?

Genre: AU, fantasy, angst

Word Count: 2.2k

photo credit: merimask on etsy (go look their masks are super cool)

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

“C’mon Jiminie, just a little longer,” this encouragement is more for me than him as I stumble forward, almost collapsing under Jimin’s weight when I place my foot on an uneven part of the sidewalk. As soon as I regain my balance, the cold pinprick of a small droplet stings my cheek, likely having fallen from the dark clouds looming ominously overhead, threatening a storm. He never minded the rain, but thunder and lightening makes me nervous, skittish. I still have time. Just a bit.

My head throbs where they sawed off my antlers. At first, I wanted to shed them naturally, but that might have taken weeks and Jimin didn’t have weeks. I couldn’t leave him at the warehouse, not by himself.

We have to get back to the Hive. We just have to get back…

Jimin doesn’t respond.

“Namjoon’s gonna take care of everything,” I pant heavily, weakly trying to shift around my companion’s dead weight. He pinches my tail, which I thought had been tucked safely in my pants. Worst piggy back ride ever. My voice is quiet, “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

Jimin says nothing.

My pace picks up with adrenaline as soon as I see the wharf. Knees shaking as I descend the familiar set of wooden steps, I sigh in relief when I see him.

“Well! If it isn’t my favorite homo-cervidae,” Hoseok gives me a lopsided, warm smile, one of his large ears twitching playfully. “I would say nice rack but… you seem to have lost your antlers.”

He giggles. I ignore the comment.

“Hey Hobi, I’m gonna need a ride for two,” I stop at the edge of the concrete walkway just shy of the dock, sweaty palms starting to lose traction on Jimin’s legs.

“Who’s your friend?” he leans over the side of the speed boat, tilting his head to see around mine, ears flicking back for a moment in distrust. Like homo-cervidae, the homo-equus breed is easy to startle, keen on distrust, but because both Hoseok and I are less than fifty percent fauna, the instinctive responses are occasionally not as strong. Occasionally.

“Jimin.”

“Park Jimin?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought he had wings.”

I can feel my friend’s breath lightly fanning across my neck and shoulder. When I found him, two days after his surgery, he’d seemed dazed, almost half asleep, maybe drugged. In the three hours we’ve been together, he hasn’t said a word. I’m not sure if he’s even awake right now. So I answer for him with a quiet, “He… did.”

“I’ll be damned,” Hoseok leans on the railing, looking both shocked and cynically amused. “Did he sell them?”

I nod.

“Hopefully that money goes a long way for you,” Hoseok looks at me like he wants some of that money that’s “hopefully going to go a long way.”

“It will,” I assure him vaguely, even if the payment isn’t for me. “Now passage for two please.”

The man with the horse ears pouts. He won’t ask me explicitly for a fee, knowing I know Namjoon and he’s the one who pays Hoseok to do this, unless he wants to lose his job. Or worse.

“Right,” Hoseok winks, his next words sarcastic, “May I see your tattoos?”

With my hands supporting Jimin, I can’t really show him the inked symbols. I would usually try to humor him, but not now.

“Cut the crap. You know I have them.”

“What about him?”

“He’s with me.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, “I gotta check-”

“Just let us on.”

There’s a pause as Hoseok gapes at me. I hate to be stern, but Jimin doesn’t have the time for us to horse around like normal.

“All aboard then. Toot toot, motherfucker.”

With a couple unsteady steps, I manage to successfully board the boat and lower Jimin in one of the seats. I turn to look at him, my precious, broken best friend. His eyes are open, but glazed over. The only thing that tells me he’s alive is the consistent rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathes.

I feel his forehead with the back of my hand. Temperature feels a little too warm for a homo-avian. With a sigh, I pull him against me and take a peek at his bandages. They’ll have to be changed soon. I gently lean Jimin back, reaching into my deep jacket pocket to pull out the bottle of pills I’d found on him. Two every six hours? When was the last time he had taken them? I can’t tell if they’re antibiotics or pain meds. I don’t want him to overdose, but what if he dies from infection? It’s been three hours since I found him. The bottle feels pretty full, but it’s also open. What if he hasn’t taken any in two days? That might be dangerous. So, I can take a chance, right?

Hoseok starts the boat, motor roaring, and I fall into a seat beside Jimin, wrestling open the cap.

Cold sea spray creates a pins and needles effect on my cheeks, my eyes naturally squinting to protect against the salt. I have to yell to be heard, “Okay Jiminie, you gotta swallow these. It’s just two tiny pills. Can you do that for me?”

He doesn’t respond.

I reach across the small gap and pinch his cheeks between my thumb and index finger, parting his chapped lips. This is no easy task, considering the bounce of the boat as we navigate the choppy waves. I quickly slip the two little blue capsules into Jimin’s mouth and massage his throat until I think he’s swallowed them.

A mix of fear and heartbreak pinches in my chest.

“We just have to find Namjoon,” I whisper, barely able to hear myself over the sound of the motor. “He’ll know what to do.”

My hand finds the two checks in my pocket. Still there. He has to know what to do.

Uncharacteristically, I’m not really in a talkative mood, which seems to put off Hoseok. I wouldn’t go so far as to call us friends, but we’ve had our fair share of chats. Yet… I can’t bring myself to be polite right now, and he only tries for conversation a couple times before dropping any further attempts. I’m not sure whether he finally senses something might be wrong or just gets bored of me not reciprocating interest.

The hour long boat ride seems to drag on for days. Has Jimin’s face always been this pale? Has his breathing always been this shallow? Temperature this high? I feel helpless.

The giant structure approaches slowly on the horizon. On a rocky outcropping lies the silhouette of jagged wood, sheet metal, netting, and pieces of cloth flapping in a wind that brings the smell of rot to my nose. The Hive. Home. It’s more of a conglomeration of salvaged trash than a “building,” but it’s where I know I’ll be safe.

It’s where I know Jimin will be safe.

The clouds have thickened substantially overhead and I’m not really sure anymore whether the spray I feel on my face is entirely from the ocean or if some of it is from rain. I look over at Jimin to find him staring straight ahead, but there’s no sign of recognition or relief in his expression. There could be so many things wrong. When was the last time he had gotten food or water? Is he sick? Is he cold? I take off my jacket and wrap it around his shoulders, shirt stiffly damp from the sea spray.

“Almost there, Minnie,” I whisper, pressing my face into Jimin’s shoulder, trying to get some form of comfort from his familiar smell or the feel of his body heat. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine…”

The rain beat down around me in sheets, causing an unrelenting tremble to weld me to the sidewalk. I’d tried to take shelter in the lobby of one of the massive corporate buildings, but they’d kicked me out. So I found myself underneath the eaves of a building, the drops coming down with so much force that they splashed and got me wet anyway.

A flash of lightning gave me enough warning to close my eyes and cower before the roll of thunder.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting out here, but my body had grown numb to the cold. So when the cold pricks of rain drops stopped hitting my skin and the slight warmth of body heat enveloped me, I couldn’t help but force myself to crack one eye open.

Eyes bright, cheeks flushed from the chill, a young boy stood in front of me, peppered wings spread wide to shield me from the rain.

A homo-avian. A young one, maybe my age, no more than twelve or thirteen. He was still growing into his wings.

“It’s not good to sit outside during a storm,” he said, voice quiet, soothing.

Body shivering too hard to be trusted to speak properly, I simply nodded.

“You got someplace to go?”

I shook my head.

He offered me his hand with a small smile, “Well now you do. I’m Jimin, but my friends call me Minnie. So you can call me Minnie. Cuz we’re friends now.”

I somehow managed a smile too as I took his extended hand and he hoisted me up.

“Wow, you’re like, really cold. But we’ll get you all warmed up. I have a friend with a house not too far from here,” he kept our hands connected as he walked and talked, explaining everything to me with a generous dash of enthusiasm. We turned a corner, then he paused, “What’s your name, by the way? I didn’t ask.”

I got out a wobbly,“Taehyung, but my friends call me T-”

A flash of lightning and the immediate rumble of thunder cut me off, causing me to drop into a squat and tremble. Stupid instincts. At the edges of my attention, I could see Jimin lower down slowly, spreading one of his wings over my shoulders.

“Well Taehyung, I’ve got you. We’re almost there,” he assured soothingly. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

I leaned against Jimin like my life depended on it. It probably did. The small stubs of antlers on my head probably dug into his cheek as I nuzzled against him, searching for comfort. But Jimin said nothing in protest. He just smiled and kept his wing around me.

Hoseok stops the speed boat next to a short rotted dock. He ties up and hops out, offering to help me with Jimin in exchange for a tart but humorous, “Man, you’re lucky I like you. This is not in my job description.”

With a quick check to my jacket pocket to make sure the money is still there, I give Hoseok a grateful pat on the shoulder and a polite “be careful with the storm” before hoisting Jimin onto my back and trudging up the gravely pathway toward the sheetmetal gates. They open slightly to reveal a familiar man.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he rushes forward and I sigh in relief when I see both of his irises are a light grey, almost white. No darkness today. Thank god. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he had been going through an episode.

“How’s he doing?” Namjoon asks, taking Jimin off of me to place the broken boy on his back.

I adjust the jacket on my friend’s shoulders before responding, “He hasn’t said anything to me since I found him. I- I’m worried.”

Namjoon begins walking, the gates opening a bit wider to let us through. His voice is deep and quiet, “Did you give him the medication?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’s probably processing the shock. You know how homo-avians are sensitive after medical procedures,” Namjoon says as he guides us through the gravely, damp, muddy maze of dark corridors. “We’ll just make sure he’s eating, drinking, and sleeping. He’ll get it out of his system eventually.”

His tone is less cold than matter-of-fact.

“Don’t worry, Tae, we’ll take care of him,” Namjoon says as he turns into a doorway and gently sets a very limp, soaked Jimin down on a stained mattress. I immediately bend to remove the jacket, his shoes, and socks as my companion places a threadbare blanket over him. “We take care of everyone here.”

“I know,” my response is hollow with dismay and fear. I reach into the pocket and remove the checks, handing them to Namjoon with the slightest bit of reluctance. “Is this enough?”

He opens the folded envelopes and glances at the numbers, nodding, “It’ll cover the kid’s medical bills.”

The smallest bit of weight lifts from my shoulders, but then I look down at Jimin and my heart sinks into my stomach. This is my fault…

But like Jimin says, it’ll be fine. It’s always fine.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

Part of the Fauna Series.

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[itwasprobablyhippogryphs-blog]

Character A is injured. Character B works in the ER.

This was bad. Sirius should be asleep to be fresh and ready for his interview tomorrow, but instead, he was sitting in an uncomfortable ER chair next to his best friend, his eye swelling, his lip throbbing, and his chest on fire.

In Sirius’ defense, he had warned the other guy that he would punch his lights out if he kept talking. He’d even been kind enough to give the asshole two punches before serving the guy’s ass on a platter.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Padfoot,” James said, even though he was holding a cloth against his split eyebrow. Sirius rolled his eyes and barked out a laugh that turned into a pained gasp. Bruised rib then.

“Hey, I told the guy—“

“Yeah yeah, you’re a real saint. You could have just walked out of the bar,” James retorted, but his smile gave him away. 

“You know, you’re right, but when some dick hole starts spewing filth, well, I can’t just let that slide,” Sirius says with a small, ginger, shrug.

“That’s truly noble, my friend, but a black eye isn’t going to look so great for that interview,” James chided. Sirius didn’t have a reply for that. It wouldn’t look good, and he needed to make a good impression on Dumbledore.

“Potter?” a voice called, clear across the relative chaos around them. James and Sirius looked up to find an unfairly attractive woman with dark red hair scanning the room.

“That’s me!” James called, lunging out of his chair before sitting back down with a sharp his. Bruised ribs for him too then. Sirius really should have seen the asshole’s friend swinging a chair. Hindsight and all that shit.

“Damn, Prongs, if you don’t make a move—“

“Are you kidding? I’m totally going to make a move! Shit, how do I look?” James turned to Sirius, and fuck, he looked so earnest it hurt.

“Great, Prongs, really, you look like a catch,” Sirius said with his best impression of a straight face. James scowled.

“Yeah, fuck you, I hope they decide that you’re injuries aren’t severe enough for meds,” James grumbled as he stood again. The woman was watching the two of them, and looking at her longer, Sirius could tell that she was probably exhausted. Her hair was pulled into a haphazard bun and the bags under her eyes were impressive.

“Love you too,” Sirius called after his best friend with a wide smile. The pain in his lip was worth it.  

James had only been gone for a moment when a smooth male voice called “Black.”

Sirius looked up automatically and his blood froze. A man with dusty brown hair and eye circles that rivaled hot-redhead’s was standing by the check in counter, looking down at what Sirius assumed were his intake forms. 

Say what you will, Sirius Black remembers every partner he has. Maybe not last names, but he has a knack for faces, and he and that face had become well acquainted in undergrad.

Remus Lupin had been in his sophomore literature class. He’d been wickedly smart, with a humor that was subtle but cutting. Sirius had fallen head over heels for him, and they’d hooked up a few times, had studied together, had even been on outings that could be called proper dates, but then Remus had dropped off the face of the damn earth.

Remus finally looked up from the clip board and scanned the room, his eyes gliding right over Sirius.

“Black? Sirius Black?” He called again. Sirius felt his stomach lurch and he raised a hand slowly. Finally Remus’s eyes met his own.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Sirius said slowly. He was vain, sure, but not vain enough to think that Remus would remember him from six years ago. Still, he had to admit that Remus’s utter lack of recognition hurt. Remus looked back down at the clip board, obviously waiting for Sirius to get his ass out of the hard plastic chair. 

Actually standing was easier said than done. Sirius felt a deep stab of pain in his chest and had to pause to catch his breath.

“Woah, okay,” a soft voice said, closer to Sirius than he expected. A broad hand cupped his elbow and Sirius sucked in a sharp breath when he looked up to see Remus hovering over him.

“You okay?” he asked, brows furrowed. He looked older than Sirius remembered him. Up close, there were scars on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes looks like dark bruises. His face was lightly lined, far more than would be expected of a person in their late twenties.

“Well, I can say I’ve been better, doc,” Sirius quipped as Remus helped him stand. Rather than let him go, Remus towed him over towards the beds that lined one of the emergency room walls.

“Hey, doctor, anyway you could make him prettier?” Sirius asked the red head who was standing over James. His best friend flashed a rude hand gesture while the doctor snorted.

“I’m not in plastics,” she said dryly and Sirius’s brows shot up.

“Oh, Prongs, I like her,” he said.

“Okay, on the bed first, then you can banter,” Remus said, exasperated already. Sirius smirked and levered himself down, hissing at the change in pressure on his chest.

“What’d you two get into?” the other doctor asked as she scribbled something on James’s chart.

“Oh, just your average night of revelry,” James said with a smirk. The doctor pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else.

—

The next hour was one Sirius wished he could forget. Remus and a pretty blond had helped him out of his shirt and looked him over. He’d been sent for x-rays and CT scans, been prodded and checked over.

Having James helped pass the time, but now his best friend was getting his own CT scan and Sirius was left waiting in the hospital bed. He pressed the call button on his bed remote idly, hoping that someone funny would show up.

The curtain opened to reveal Remus, annoyance etched into his features.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, looking Sirius over for signs of distress.

“I…uh, just bored,” Sirius grimaced. Remus’s frown deepened. “Sorry, I thought a nurse would show up,” he said weakly.

“Well, we’re understaffed at the moment, and honestly, nurses don’t have time for this kind of thing,” Remus said. He waited a moment before turning.

“Hey, wait! While you’re here,” Sirius said before he could stop himself. Remus paused and turned back. He didn’t say anything, just raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Uh, sorry, this is probably fuckin’ weird, but, do you remember me?” Sirius asked. Remus stared at him for a few moments and Sirius felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.

“I only ask—we had a class together, once, and, well, we—“

“I remember you,” Remus said quietly. Sirius blinked at him.

“You do?” he asked, honestly surprised. Remus nodded, stepping closer to the bed and tweaking the curtain behind him.

“You’re hard to forget, Sirius,” Remus said with a small smirk. Sirius felt his heartbeat quicken.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked quietly. 

“Because it was years ago?” Remus said, “Because we went on maybe three dates and then never saw each other again? And because I’m your doctor and you’re my patient.” 

“That—those were dates?” Sirius asked, unable to stop his smirk. He felt somewhat giddy, which could have been the excitement of realizing that his long harbored crush considered their previous meetings dates.

More likely, the pain killers were beginning to kick in. By the look on Remus’s face, he thought so too.

“Well,” he started with a sigh, looking away to hide his smile, “it was a long time ago.” the doctor stood and no! No nononono!

“Hey—wait,” Sirius leaned forward and grabbed Remus’s hand (which he thought was very impressive considering that hand was dancing so much) “We should do it again! Well,” Sirius found himself giggling, “well, not IT, or, we could, if you wanted, but only if you wanted, I’m all about consent.”

“Oh, okay, that’s the medication,” Remus said with another, really really, cute smile. There was an odd mixture of relief and disappointment in his tone.

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed, but that’s not what he meant, “Wait, no! Like, yeah, I can feel them, they’re great, good shit, top notch, but I mean it!” Remus raised his eyebrows and they started to mesh together. Weird.

“I mean like, yeah, Remus, I kinda—like, REALLY KINDA, like actually totally, want to date the crap out of you,” Sirius said with his best serious tone. 

“Okay, well, once you’re not hopped up on pain meds and come to your senses,” Remus started.

“No wait, but really, I’m serious!” Sirius said quickly. he looked around as much as he could without letting Remus’s hand go and grabbed his wallet. He flipped the bifold open and held up his ID. “See? I’m Sirius! And also serious.”

This time Remus did laugh, a snorting, small chuckle that flooded Sirius with warmth. He felt like he was floating above the bed, but Remus’s hand was anchoring him, keeping him from floating away.

“I really, really want to try again,” Sirius said, staring at Remus’s eyebrows, which were currently tangoing up his forehead, “you’re crazy talented eyebrows be damned.” Remus looked down at him, mouthing “eyebrows” and heaved one more sigh.

“Okay, look, I’m not saying yes or no while you’re high as a kite,” Remus said, serious, but there was a hint of a smile around the corner’s of his mouth. He pulled his hand away slowly, and there was nothing Sirius could do because Remus’s hand melted and then became solid again around a pen he was suddenly holding. He scribbled on a piece of paper for a moment and tore the scrap off the larger sheet.

“I’m going to put my number in your wallet, and IF you can remember any of this, call me,” he said, tucking the paper into Sirius’s wallet.

“Okay, that’s cool, yeah,” Sirius said slowly, “I’m all for that, just…” he trailed off, staring at his wallet.

“Yes?” Remus asked patiently.

“I just need to know…what language you wrote that shit in, so I can google translate it later,” Sirius said, looking from his wallet to Remus with wide eyes.

“I don’t know Egyptian pictures,” he said, obviously concerned. Remus laughed again, louder this time, and Sirius felt like there were bubbles popping in his head. It was great.

“I have faith in you,” Remus said, still chuckling. Sirius felt his eyes start to droop and realized for the first time just how tired he was.

“Okay…I’m gonna, nappy bye,” he slurred with a smile. Remus nodded.

“Okay, you nappy bye. I’ll come check on you in a little while.”

“Yeah you will,” Sirius said, or tried to say. He was ninety percent sure he said it, but the room had gone dark and fuzzy and warm and he could tell Remus later, just in case.