#i hope these make sense im so tired

[vault-kid]

I have so many of the fallout asks I wanna know bc I’m kind of in love with Luna? Soooo… 14, 15, 16, 23, 26 pls. I would include more questions but I fear for the word count with 5.

im twirling my hair and giggling and kicking my feet rn .. <3 dont be scared to ask more i LOVE getting asks PLEASEEE anywaaysss onto the answers! 14. What is their fondest memory?

Reminiscing a lot from her childhood, Luna's fondest memories come from the times she and Amata were younger. Probably one time where Alfonse let Amata stay over for a sleepover, and they secretly stayed up gossiping, reading Grognak the Barbarian, and doing whatever girls do in sleepovers.

That, or simply wandering around the clinic as a younger kid. Right after class, Luna would go back to visit James and Jonas at the clinic. If the day had been slow, she usually asked Jonas to play "Doctor" with her, Jonas being the sick patient and Luna as the best Vault doctor.

15. What is their proudest moment / accomplishment?

Proudest moment... I mean other than finally having the emotional strength to complete Project Purity, and surviving... Luna felt extremely proud of herself for helping Bryan Wilks in Grayditch, and making sure he had a safe place to stay after. She has a soft spot for kids (Child at Heart perk!!), and even though that whole ordeal was a pain in the ass, it's one of the few times Luna ever felt like risking her ass like that was worth it. Luna usually wonders how Bryan is doing whenever she's away, but any time she visits Rivet City, she make sures to stop by and at least say Hi.

16. What is their biggest regret?

I feel like Luna would have a lot of regrets, one of those biggest regrets being Butch related, to say the least (secret for now...) but on a deeper level, her biggest (continuous) regret would be never allowing herself take a break, in every sense of the word. From being a nobody in the Vault to becoming the Wasteland’s hero, she finally felt like she was important—until she realized that, more often than not, she was always sacrificing herself in some way for strangers, or being manipulated into being someone's errand girl. Sometimes, all she really wants is to be anything but the hero, but honestly, she can't help but follow in her dad's footsteps.

23. How do they feel about physical touch / affection?

In all honesty, she loves giving affection (physical or verbal affection). But, receiving it? Mmm maybe not. It really depends. She was fond of it but after her past relationship with Butch (in the Vault), she's been very against the thought of getting vulnerable with anyone like that again. Luna just doesn't really like being touched in general. (Although she is literally touch starved after leaving the Vault.)

26. How would others describe them / their disposition?

In reality, if you asked around, I'm sure everyone would say different things about Luna. You know what they'd say about her in the Vault (A bummer, downer, goody-two shoes, etc, etc.), but in the Wastes? Some would describe her as a hero, or a saint, risen to save the Wasteland. Some would say she's just an emotionless, privileged kid with a hero complex. Others just want her dead. Maybe many would agree she looks depressed, suicidal; a ghost roaming around. However, they would all say she is determined, maybe even a bit stubborn, but with a sense of humanity. And she can live with that.

[lotus-pear]

ace detective more like ace DEFECTIVE

[poopystain]

uhhhhmm

[mossy-aro]

ultimately i think my insistence on aro positivity honestly is as much a political stance as a personal one.

when i say aro positivity is crucial and that i dislike doomer-ist posts that express sentiments like 'I hate being aro so much I wish I was dead instead’ it's not because I don’t think there can and should be a space for negativity and acknowledging self-hate, or the many ways being aromantic can really suck sometimes. i find that to be very important!

that being said. there is smth here about how self-hate posts are sometimes just arophobia that we inflict on ourselves. and when we put that out into the ether it (intentionally or not) can become arophobia that we inflict on other members of the community. i think there absolutely needs to be a place for negativity and the expression of anger and frustration and self loathing even - these are all good things to talk about because these are things that we experience. that being said, it can also be genuinely upsetting and triggering to people to have what is essentially arophobia shown to them and then have that be validated by other aspec people. your personal thoughts can affect your wider community on a level you may not anticipate. and i understand it i truly do! it took me so long to be able to recover from accepting being aroace - it threw my entire world off kilter and made me question everything about my place in the world.

but my insistence on aro joy and positivity is because ultimately i do believe that building is at the core essence of it all. that ultimately discussions and the purpose of community should be about construction, not destruction. and this is both a personal and a political stance. talking about how much you hate yourself and cultivating online discussions/spaces where negativity about aspec identity is the main and only theme is destructive - if that’s where we let the conversation end. these thoughts can and should be used as a vehicle to look for a path forward!

joy and positivity create a space where the focus can become on forging a path forward, on construction, on community building instead of tearing ourselves and others down with negative thoughts. it’s not productive or healthy when it stops at a place of negativity - it becomes actively destructive to the essence of community.

and i do think that this is especially poignant considering the fact that being any kind of queer, but especially aromantic (and/or asexual) means forging a path for yourself and making your own happiness where there is no obvious way forward. our communities exist mostly online (right now, anyway), there is little recognition of our existence in the real world, the effects of amatonormativity are both pervasive and actively dehumanising, and there are legal, economic and social structures in place actively making our lives more difficult. yes that all sucks! it’s good to acknowledge that. we need to in order to change it. but more importantly, that’s not the end. we are still here and our happiness, our future is for us to determine. even if we can’t change the laws or society, loving yourself and understanding aromanticism as a political identity (as well as personal), as a radical worldview, and as a protest against amatonormativity is essential for both community and personal well being. the personal is political.

tldr. i guess my point is that as a community, we should focus on building, improving, and nurturing ourselves and each other (construction) as opposed to destruction. we should recognise aromanticism and asexuality as political identities as well as personal ones and rely on community and self-love in the absence of anything else as a form of protest and political power. destruction (the recognition of everything that is wrong) is essential as a starting point - but where do we go from there? we rebuild.

[lightbulb-warning]

today i offer you prompts 11-20 for isat month!! ignore your calendar THANKYUUUU <3

[beastwhimsy]

FINALLY drew every single person in the system after half a decade of knowing I have osdd. IT ONLY TOOK 5 YEARS.....

(please don't refer to how we look as character designs!! thanks!)

notes! - I've been evaluated by multiple professionals and they've all gone ya you have guys in there. good luck man - I can remember experiencing pretty damning symptoms since I was like. a wee lad. - I'm guy number 2. hi! waving!!! - sunny and moon don't really have a concrete age but can be considered adults - there are 10 girls, 7 guys, and 3 people who aren't either - some of these guys formed based on some childhood friends I had - there are 6 fictives overall. most of them consider themselves their own people and don't identify much with their source material - the most frequent fronters are robin, sunny, phoebe and francis - if you have any questions please feel free to ask! if anyone says anything nasty I won't respond. I love pressing the block button

[llemon-soda]

give me something to believe

[alicethenobody]

This post is just my interpretation of the characters of course, not saying anything I say here is totally factual.

Dante and Nero are similar in a lot of ways, yet so very different in the way they treat their part human part demon nature.

If Vergil was burying the light (his humanity), Dante was burying the darkness (his inner demon). Ever since his mom died he suppressed his demon side, pretending he was a full human in his Tony Redgrave days. Not even the people closest to him (Grue and Nell) knew about his relation to Sparda.

Dante eventually accepted that part of himself, but it’s evidenced that he still hates said part. For example, in the DMC5 novel it’s explained he didn’t want to go to Patty’s birthday party because he’d be surrounded by “normal” (in his words) people and he doesn’t consider himself normal (though he plans to go see her after the mission anyways and the party has died down because he cares a lot about her) he very much has a “Everything I touch dies�� mentality because in his mind his relation to Sparda is why the shit with Gilver (who was created by Mundus) happened and Grue, Jessica, and Nell suffered the consequences. This might also explain a lot about why in 3 he resented Sparda and the fact that he was related to him, constantly having demons ruining his life. And he hated the fact that he was part demon himself because demons are the reason he lost the people he loves. That’s why, despite his love for humanity and caring so much about his friends, he keeps the people he loves at a certain distance, he thinks it’s the only way to protect them. This extended to his nephew.

As for Nero? He started off similarly, hating his demonic side (growing up in Fortuna fucking sucked) and pretended to be fully human like Dante did as Tony by hiding his arm. When he asked Kyrie if “this is what she wanted” she essentially told him she wanted all of him, that included the part of himself that he hated. Ultimately, because he had someone like Kyrie, he was able to do something Dante couldn’t: He learned to love his demonic side, not even trying to hide his arm anymore when 5 takes place.

While Vergil’s theme is about burying his humanity, and Dante’s theme being about his inner demon wanting to break free, Nero’s theme is about embracing that side of him and wearing who he is on his sleeve.

Dante helped Nero a lot in DMC4 and was kind of a mentor figure to him. While Nero didn’t openly show it at the time, he really looks up to Dante and respects him, the fact that Dante accepted him as part of his business must’ve meant a lot to him. DMC5 ends with Nero returning the favor, by helping Dante realize he didn’t have to kill his brother again and that he could change and that they could mend their relationship. I think Nero would be the perfect person to help him maybe not hate himself for who he is so much? They’re both very good hearted people but I think Dante needs to be shown that being as self sacrificial about things as he is isn’t what’s best for him or anyone really.

[actual-changeling]

I know a lot of people interpret Scully's reaction to Mulder's love confession in 'Triangle' as her assuming that he is drugged up and talking nonsense.

There is another (worse) option, though.

"Oh brother" is definitely not what you respond if you're taking it seriously, we can probably agree on that, but i don't think potential drugs are the reasons here.

Let's look back a little. I'm working with the assumption that 'Folie a Deux' is set in May of 1998 with FtF taking place in August. 'The Beginning' happens sometime in September of the same year. If we use this as our timeline, we have a total of around five months during which a LOT of shit happens.

'Folie a Deux' is important because this is the "original" drugged up love confession Scully hears when Mulder is in the psychward. It gets to her, she thinks he is being genuine and does what he asked her to do.

More important than the act itself is what he tells her. I assume most of us have that conversation memorized, but just as a reminder:

"Scully, you have to believe me. Nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. You're my one in five billion."

Even from our point of view, this makes complete sense—she IS the only one he trusts.

Except that it's a lie. I don't expect Mulder to think of Diana in that moment, and it wouldn't have been an issue at all if it weren't for the events of 'The End', which happen about 2-3 weeks later.

Suddenly, there is a person from his past that he trusts unconditionally to the point of stupidity, and he not only doesn't talk to Scully about any of it, he stops talking to her period. It's as if she has been a placeholder for Diana, and now that she's back, there is no use for her anymore.

Mulder works the case with Diana, Scully is dragging herself along and he does not care about her or her work until it is useful for him; he doesn't back her up when a room full of people (including Diana) belittle and mock her. He nods along, which, to Scully, is just the last puzzle piece slotting into place.

To summarize, Mulder's confession in Folie a Deux that she took seriously is revealed to be a lie—a means to an end to get her to do what he wants her to. Whether or not that's objectively true is a totally different matter because this is what Scully is confronted with.

Betrayal.

With that in mind, their argument in FtF in his hallway and Scully thinking of herself as redundant makes complete sense. We get yet another love confession, one she ALSO takes seriously, and if it weren't for that fucking bee, they'd have kissed. Maybe then, the whole mess that comes after could have been avoided, but here we are.

In "The Beginning", Scully repeats said confession back to him in an attempt to calm him and regain his trust in her/her science. Let's see what happens:

He implicitly tells her that none of what he confessed still applies, that the whole speech was, once again, nothing but a farce to get her to stay. Mulder confirms this at the end of the episode, and Scully asking him with tears in her eyes to trust her is a deeply painful contrast to his earlier declarations.

Two times, Mulder confesses his love to her.

Two times, he takes it back later and continues to use it against her.

In 'Triangle', Scully once again finds herself next to Mulder in a hospital bed and listens to him as he confesses his love for a third time. Does she think he's drugged up? Yeah, probably, but that's not the reason she cannot take him seriously.

Considering her track record with Mulder and big speeches, is it at all surprising that she no longer trusts what he tells her?

"Oh, brother," because she is forced to grapple with her many, many feelings for him and process it in a way that fits into everything else that has happened so far.

"Oh, brother," because it might be an attempt to placate her and nothing else.

"Oh, brother," because there is a chance he will twist his 'I love you' into a weapon to stab her with later. Because he says it and does not mean it.

This is not a "oh, he's drugged up" expression to me. This is Scully preparing to get hurt again.

The funniest part is that she's right. She is right. He couldn't have meant it because then he wouldn't be staring her down with apathy in his eyes and tell her not to make it "personal".

SHE is making it personal? After Mulder manipulated her by pulling on their connection like a leash to get her to do what he wants? After he confessed how much he loves and trusts her over and over just to throw it all away?

To ignore all of it in the moment it actually fucking matters?

The drug option is less angsty and kinda fun, and I do enjoy reading fics that interpret it as such, but with their history attached, it is so much more—and so much worse.

Pretending it never happened is one thing, but then actively denying it to her face and using her feelings to hurt her? Yeah, no.

Mulder fucked up and Scully has every right to reject his declarations and distance herself from him.

[g1ngerbeer]

glassesposting once more

[kiisaes]

SURE LOL making this its own post so I don't bother op with how genuinely annoying I am

"what's your educated take on bakugou" (this is the primary litmus test. if you have a dogshit opinion about him I am terminating the conversation effective immediately)

"what do you ship in this series, if you ship at all, using strictly the text with no fandom interference" (testing to see if you can separate canon from fanon, because fanon has severely warped many's perception of canon. I think most, if not all, big ships in this series were sabotaged by the fandom - either by misinterpreting the characters in the ships or artificially inflating/deflating their importance to the story)

"what are some general themes and takeaways of this narrative"

@bakugous-broken-toothbrush

[sag-dab-sar]

📖 Myth & Sacred Scripture 📖

In Hellenic Polytheism and Mesopotamian Polytheism (and others but I don't want to speak for them) there is no sacred scripture where the words of a God are given to a myth writer and that writing is then declared holy by some form of religious authority.

The idea that myths are the literal actions of the Gods come from a concept of sacred scripture. Sacred meaning the words have holy implications or they have a fundamentally important connection to the divine. This understanding of religious writings is demonstrated in:

Protestant Christianity where the Bible is divinely inspired (usually derived from 1 Timothy 3:16 & 2 Peter 1:12). Additionally, in Trinitarian Christianity Jesus is God making his words in the Gospels the literal words of God.

Islam where the Quran are the words of God given to Mohammad via the angel Gabriel over the course of his life.

Judaism where traditionally the written Torah are the words of God given to Moses at Mt Sinai.

**There are more examples but I'm not going to try and talk about something I did not study.

This pervasive idea of scripture being the words of God embeds itself into a general view of what religion supposedly is because:

Christianity is the largest religion in the world.

Christianity is the dominant religion in English speaking countries, so when we have these discussions in English it tends to have that cultural Christian viewpoint.

Islam is the second largest religion in the world.

Islam considers the Jewish and Christian scriptures to also be given from God, but they have been corrupted in one way or another. This combination can put a mistaken emphasis on sacred scripture being a fundamental aspect of religion.

Even though Judaism is a very small religion the written Torah is considered part of the Christian Old Testament (first five books). Christians interpret the scripture completely differently but the idea of Moses receiving the Word of God at Mt Sinai continues into Christianity from Judaism.

In many "dead religions" the closest you can come to the "words of the gods" might be the writings of ancient oracles or those who communed directly with spirits & gods. However, in Greece and Mesopotamia there was no centralized religion or continuous tradition to overview and canonize them into sacred scripture. Additionally, those are not usually what people are talking about when they refer to myth.

Myth is extremely important, but mythic literalism is a misstep people make, often due to our preconceived notions of sacred scriptures and their connection to the divine.

-dyslexic not audio proof read-

-I hope this makes sense-

[toasted-toadette]

just had the most vivid scene pop up in my head where it's donnie putting on eyeliner and then it fucking.gets in his eye. and since Mikey helps him with his makeup he goes to mikey and is like "i've made a mistake." while his eye is just pure black and fucking corrupted with the eyeliner and mikey is screaming "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO"

[goldenhallas]

what if the power of each of the Evanuris is what's keeping the veil held up, and Solas' ritual was drawing upon their power and binding them to their idols (or just stealing their power?) in order to tear down the veil and keep them contained at the same time? he did say in Inquisition that he had contingency plans for the gods, to deal with them at the same time as tearing down the veil

i think he's doing tbe ritual here because the idols are directly linked to the Black City/Golden City where the Evanuris are trapped. see how the idols look like they're in a ritual circle that once belonged to a grander city? the Solas idol lights up when the cutscene starts, probably because he's imbued his power into it

it looks like he manages to get all the idols to light up except for one, the one Rook knocks over and destroys to stop the ritual, which frees two of the gods

so by stopping the ritual you may actually have just made everything worse, because now there are two really powerful, really angry elven gods on the loose...

[xhoneygirlxx]

i personally don't like when people buy me things. often times when someone gets me something i feel bad that they spent the money on me.

anyway here's a little thingy while i work on some writing :)

18+ minors go away

Eddie would be the kind of boyfriend who would buy you things, whether it was a small snack from the gas station or a brand new eye shadow palette you've been wanting for a while, and every single time you'd thank him followed up by a little chastising for spending money on you.

He's told you plenty of times before that he has the money, that he bought it because he wanted to and he likes to see you happy, so there is no reason for you to feel bad that he spend x amount of money on a little gift for you.

After a while he starts to realize that your little rant about his gifting isn't just about you worrying about his bank account but you simply don't think that you're worth it.

This gives the metalhead an idea, for every rant you give him about spending money on you he has to remind you why he does. So, the next time he brought home a little present for you and you reprimand him, he takes you straight into the bedroom where he pins you underneath him and shows you why he does what he does.

"You're so perfect, honey. Did'ya know that, hmm?" Eddie questions, his breath lingers hot and heavy on your neck.

You whine loudly, not just because of the compliment but because of the way he's driving his cock in and out of you so perfectly.

He pants heavily as he pulls back from his spot in the crook of your neck, arms steading him as he cages them by your head. Guitar pick necklace and dark curls dangle over your face, a greek god reincarnated right above you.

"Fuck, you're s'good baby. So fucking good f'me." He praises.

You keen into his sweet words, gripping around him tightly as his words edge you closer to the end.

"Feel s'good, Eds. Love how you feel." You're completely cock drunk, lost in the hazy cloud of euphoria.

A breathy chuckle escapes the kiss bitten lips of your boyfriend, enamored completely on the way he's got you. His rhythm picks up, hips snapping at a faster pace causing the squelch of your sopping cunt to be louder than before.

You're not sure what he does, whether he angles your legs higher to your chest or if he switches the way he fucks into you, all you know is he is now hitting deeper inside of you causing the air to be knocked out of your lungs.

You're a live wire, sparking and crackling ready to explode at any moment. He's everywhere, filling each of your senses, and you're not sure if it's heaven or hell and if this is how you were to go out, you'd be fine with where you ended up.

"S-shit, squeezin' me so tight," Eddie grits out, "You gonna cum, baby? Yeah, y'gonna cum all over my - fuck- all over my cock?"

At this point you're not sure if he's teasing you and quite frankly, you don't care if he was, all you care about is the string in you're belly that's ready to snap.

"Come on, sweetheart, cum f'me. Be the good girl you are and cum."

That's it, that's all you need to hear before you're finally pushed over the edge. You're back bows off the mattress, toes curling so tight you'll probably cramp up, and your eyes roll straight back into your head.

You release with a silent scream, an airy gasp followed by the oxygen being ripped from you. It's a big one, probably the biggest orgasm you've had in your life, and God does it feel good.

It feels like you've been pulled out of your body, floating straight into the clouds only to free fall at a slow speed. You always wondered what people meant when they said they were on cloud nine but now you know because you've seem to reach there in this moment.

It clearly was a big one because the moment you fall back to earth, Eddie already has you cleaned up and a cup of water waiting for you. He sits on the side of the bed, boxers haphazardly thrown on, as he pets the hair out of your face that clung on to the drying sweat.

"My sweet girl, you okay?" It comes out concerned yet not frantic enough to alarm you.

Words seem to be too much of an issue for you, tongue to heavy to move. Instead you resort to nodding your head, giving the best smile you can despite being completely drained of energy.

"Did I go too hard? Was it too much?" Big brown eyes study your face, afraid that you've been injured in some form.

You shake your head rapidly, "M'okay, Eds. It was perfect." Although your voice is hoarse, your eyes tell him all he needs to know. You're being honest.

Letting out a subtle sigh of relief, Eddie coax you to sit up as much as you can, putting the rim of the glass to your lips to encourage you to drink.

"My good girl, did so good f'me." He coos sweetly. Placing a soft kiss to your forehead, he places the glass on the bedside table before helping you lay back down.

Once you're settled back into bed, Eddie takes his spot next to you, pulling you into his chest to hold you. It's silent for a moment, a comforting calm after all that's happened. He lets you soak it up for a moment, allowing you to regain yourself before pushing you to say anything else.

"Thank you, Eds." It comes out muffled from where your face meets the skin of his chest, however he still hears it loud and clear.

It might not mean much to anyone else but to him, it means everything. Finally it's dawned on you that he doesn't just do the things he does because he he feels like he has to but simply because he wants to. It's not just about him fucking the absolute shit out of you but the fact that he took care of you right after, not because he has to or because you made him, it's because he did it out of the kindness of his heart.

You deserve nice things, whether it's a dollar bag of chips or a mind blowing night of sex followed by after care, Eddie does these things because he wants you to know he loves you and you deserve everything good in this world.

He lets these words soak into his skin, going straight into his veins and causing a heat to fill his body. You don't see it, not when you're eyelids are too heavy to open, but he's smiling. It's not a smile from winning a competition or contest, but a smile of pride. He has finally proven to you that you are worth kindness and thoughtful actions without any sort of rebuttle on your end.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Now get some rest, it's been a long night."

His words seem to soothe you because not even a second later you're humming into his chest contently.

___

This sucks but I felt the need to share. Eddie Munson would 100 percent spoil his s/o and no one can convince me otherwise.

I hope you all enjoy this and if you find any sort of spelling/writing error, no you didn't :)

_ __

[mochindayo]

Oh, So much cat fur || L/A/DS Z/ayne x MC

I made an ao3 a bit ago. I've been a lurker on there since...idk...years, but. I'm going to uhh...i think post fics there too haha. may or may not see some crossposting. i'm being wild and it's also going to have regular fics (haha, that is if i decide i'm writing in the first place xD) there's one snz fic and one vanilla fic right now lol. Am i nervous? sure, but like- also i've lost it, idk. here we are. anyways. I'm so into LADS rn. here we are. i want to write more, but i always say that, write one thing, and disappear for another 5 months. maybe i'll change, who knows. I’m taking advantage of my motivation while I’ve got it rn

the portal, to...a fic in my ao3 lol. but i'll also put the fic here under the cut...because..why not?

Zayne, sneezing, because little kitty Zayne is choking on his own fur!!?? HUH!? OK SIR!?

======================

Zayne was always a neat and orderly person. It irked him that he was the cause of the copious amount of cat hair that was beginning to collect–on him and his furniture. 

Ever since the bizarre event that had left him with cat ears and a long, fluffy tail, he had been doing his best to maintain his cleanliness. This was lasting longer than he had wistfully hoped. 

He was shedding everywhere. 

The elegant strands of his midnight fur that adorned his cat features had begun piling up, turning his couch and sheets a grayish hue. He practically ate cat hair with every meal now. If anyone had a pet that shed, they would understand. 

Zayne had decided in order to lessen the amount of shed fur, he would brush his ears and tail three times a day. It was just about time to start his midday grooming session. He figured there should be enough time before you came over for lunch. 

Oftentimes, if you spent the evening with him–whether it was in his office or in his apartment–he would let you brush him. It was soothing. He would just melt into your touch. 

He got to work, grabbing his brush and finding a comfy space on the wood floors. 

How long has it been since he’s vacuumed? He admitted to himself, he had begun to slack on the cleaning. It had gotten exhausting keeping up with the amounts of sweeping he had to do everyday and becoming a cat has made him more prone to naps these days. Therefore, his floors were gaining quite the collection of cat fur. 

Zayne sighed slightly as he settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. However, no matter how gentle he sat down, it  hadn’t stopped him from stirring up the stray strands of fur into the air. He started on his 

With the precise motions of a surgeon, he ran the brush over his ears first. An attempt to ensure that each motion was controlled as to not let too much cat fur fly. The feeling was pleasant, he almost purred. 

Strands of his soft black fur detached from the brush, regardless of his attempts, drifting lazily through the air. 

He watched them float.

A small sigh left his lips. No matter how careful he was, the fur would go wherever it felt. The sun’s rays illuminated the fur flying through the air, accentuating how they floated gently before landing on his clothes, his floor–his face.

He gave a frustrated exhale from his nose, blowing the cat furs away from his nostrils. Then, he moved on to brushing his tail. He wasn’t a big fan of brushing his tail. It was a human scaled version of a maine coone’s tail, those of which were already long and fluffy. He swiftly moved the brush through his tail. Unlike his ears, this took more effort and these strands were more prone to flying wherever they felt like. 

More and more fur lifted into the air, curling in invisible trails around him. It was like a mini cloud of cat fur always hung around him. 

That’s when he felt it. 

A faint, miniscule tickle on the tip of his nose. It was hardly worth acknowledging at first. Just a light sensation that teased the edges of his sinuses. His nostrils gave a tiny twitch, and then nothing.

Zayne continued brushing, doing his best not to acknowledge any sensations on his face. This of course, scattered more fur into the air around him. Not that it could be helped. Still, he refused to give into the growing irritation, or acknowledge the way his breath had begun to catch. He was still in control. He could do this. 

He finally made it to the ends of his tail. The fullest, most luxurious part. It was beautiful, yet he cursed it. Although, you personally loved when he let you run your hands through it. He gave a few generous strokes, running the bristles through the fur with precision. 

More and more fur detached, swirled through the air, landing everywhere. 

His breath hitched. The tickle was beginning to settle in the back of his nose as he continued. He gave a particularly harsh tug on his next stroke as a knot had nestled itself deep in his fur. Big mistake on his end. A small plume of fur flew up into the air, curling directly into his face. He could feel each ticklish strand land on, around, and in his nose. The teased and tickled as he shakily inhaled. 

“No, no, n-nhh…I d-don’t– don’t need to snihHh–sneeze–” 

His nostrils flared, protesting the cat fur that tickled his nose. His breath hitched and stuttered, chest heaving. Fighting a losing battle, he finally raised his hand up to his nose. He wasn’t allergic to cat hairs, but his nose was quite sensitive to the touch. 

At last, his breath caught.

“Hhh–hh’Tscht!” He pinched the first sneeze off behind his fingers. It was refined and quiet, yet it did not relieve him from the tickle that plagued his nose. Before he had time to think, his nose protested once again, and suddenly once became six times.

“Heh-’Tcht! –eH’Tcht! N–tchtt! ‘Tch! ‘Tch! ‘tchhh!” Zayne wasn’t going to stop anytime soon if he didn’t release his nose to expel the cat fur, but habits kept him from doing so. “ahH–...s-so tickly..s-stuhHh’tcht!! ehH’Tcht! S-stupid cat f-fur’TCHT! ehH–’Tcht!” 

Each sneeze–albeit quite–harshly jerked his body and shook more cat fur into the air.

“Sh-hiH-iHt’Tgxt’ch! ah–Tchtt! hihH–heh’Tchht!” 

His body repeatedly betrayed him as his nose gave in to the itch–even as he fought to suppress them. Somewhere in the midst, he heard his door unlock. ‘Oh no, they’re here already. How long hahH– has it b-been?’ With all the commotion from his nose he had forgotten you were coming over. 

Soon, he heard the sound of your feet headed in his direction.

“Zayne? Are you… wh-what happened to you?” You tried to cover up your amusement by coughing to hide your laughter. Zayne tried his best to glare at you through his bleary eyes.

“T-too muhh’Tchh! hehH’TChh! Toomuchcatfur ahH–’TChh!!!” He stuttered out through the sneezes. “Hehh…I-I can’t s-stohH–p…”.

“Do you maybe think, you should, perhaps, take your hand off your nose? Stop stifling mayhaps? Or would you rather forever trap those tickly–”

“hehH–eH’DTZsh’iiihh!!” Even the mere word tickly made his nose burst. At least he finally let himself release the sneezes freely, “ahEhH’DZSH–iihhh!! eHEH’DSZHIew! heh’DZSH–IIHH–…hhh..”.

You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment, “Kitty Zayne choking on his own fur?”

His ears flattened as he sniffled the mess back, rosy cheeks gave away his embarrassment. You gave him a cheeky smile as you pulled some tissues out of your back pocket. You held them out, nudging them towards his face as he still glared (lovingly) at you.

“This is n-not amuHh…amusing…hh…hH’iHhh–’Tschhh!” He sneezed again and hastily grabbed for the tissues. He blew his nose harshly in an attempt to evict any stray cat fur left in his nose. 

“Well, I found it quite amusing,” You giggled as you plopped down on the floor right in front of him, “though you had me worried for a moment there when you wouldn’t open your door or respond to your phone.”

He looked back at you above the tissues as he examined the expression on your face. A look of both amusement and relief. 

“I did…not mean to worry you. Apologies, my dear,” He sighed, his lips twitched into a small smile. 

“It’s no worries! The scene I walked into made up for it. Imagine, me walking in, worried, just to find you sitting on the floor, sneezing your head off, surrounded by a cloud of your own fur–”

“OhH–no wh–y–heH’TSCHHH! eH’Tschh! eH’Tch! ‘tch–’tch–’tch…heh…haHh–e’Tschhhh! Why did you have to mention it again?” He once again blew his nose into the tissues. Though they were quite wet by now. You threw your head back, cackling.

“I’m sorry, Zayne!! I didn’t realize you were so suggestible!” Regardless of his embarrassment, your laughter was still music to his ears. 

“Mhm…what will I ever do with you, hm?” He let out an amused sigh. 

“Why don’t we settle onto the couch instead of going out today? Now seems like a perfect time for an afternoon nap, yeah?” You beamed as you reached to scratch his ears. Miraculously, your hand made it to his ears before he could stop you. He let out a small pur, which in turn caused his cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“S-sounds good to me,” he finally replied after he let you scritch behind his ears. You knew he enjoyed that spot. You hummed happily and helped him up from the floor. Zayne followed without protest, unable to stop the small purrs that escaped his throat.

Moments later, the two of you were nestled together on his plush sofa. Zayne’s breaths were slow and steady, though a faint sniffle escaped him now and then. The sneezing had finally eased, leaving his little cat-self drowsy. His tail curled lazily over your legs and with each soft exhale, his ears would give a tiny flick. He was the first to doze off, with you not too far behind.