#please oliver let me pet your dogs!

[theupstairskid]

I don't have a timestamp but if you watch the background the right side when Oliver is talking at one point during the Paleyfest panel thing you can see Bear being a little cutie

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 5.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a/n: again, a little bit of a slow chapter. shera deserved some happiness and i'm giving it to her, dammit. also i lied, i dropped the chapter on monday oopsies.

wordcount: 4.5k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, my terrible, terrible combat writing

story playlist

Shera’s handwriting, in all accounts, was terrible. It was crude and wispy, all blending together like a child’s scrawl. As she sat at her desk, the ink dripping onto the paper from the length of her pauses, she wondered how to sign it. 

Yours,

Shera

No, that was much too personal— she… she wasn’t his. 

Best,

Shera Stark

That felt formal and detached. It simply wouldn’t do.

She went through a myriad of different closing statements, wroughting her brain over like wringing out a rag. She even considered not doing it at all. 

No, no— she… she wanted to. She needed to try, atleast. Sulking and crying would only do so much for her. She needed to be proactive and offer an olive branch of sorts. She settled on a simple drawing of Moongeist— or mayhaps any wolf, but the point was there. He’d know. 

With the note pinned to her cut dress fabric, she snuck from her chambers, flagging down a pageboy. 

“Hello,” she murmured to the young lad, who couldn’t be any older than nine or ten. “May I ask a favor of you, ser?” 

“Yes ma’am… my lady,” he corrected softly, eyes wondering to Moongeist, who was sitting patiently at Shera’s feet. 

“May you take this fabric and note to Prince Aemond’s chambers and leave it upon his desk?” 

“The prince doesn’t like people going through his things while he’s not there, miss,” he responded, blue eyes wide. “I do not wish to be flogged.” 

Shera blinked slowly. Surely Aemond didn’t have servants flogged for an indiscretion. “Has… Prince Aemond had pageboys flogged before?” 

“No, miss— but I delivered him a letter while he was eating his lunch once… he had his eyepatch off on the table and I did not knock,” the young boy looked at his hands. “He said if I didn’t knock next time, he would make me clean up Vhagar’s dung with a wheelbarrow.” 

What the fuck, Aemond? Shera stifled a little laugh, trying not to embarrass the boy. “How about this,” she hummed. “Would you like to pet my wolf? He’s a real direwolf, all the way from the North.” 

The lad eyed Moongeist with a curious gaze. “My mumma had a shaggy dog with a curly tail when I was young. He licked my face n’ smelled horrible but he was my bestest friend,” he said, bashful. “He died a while ago— no one’s got any more pups for me to pet.” 

“He’d love a pet from you, ser,” Shera continued. “Will you deliver this to Prince Aemond’s chambers? If he gets cross with you, tell me and I’ll resolve it and sic my wolf upon him. No harm will befall you.” 

Shyly, the boy smiled, offering his hand to the wolf. Moongeist sniffed his hand and licked his palm, causing the boy to giggle. 

Shera showed him where Moongeist liked to be scratched the most, and the pageboy was quite pleased with himself when he had the giant wolf thumping his foot on the ground like a puppy at the most perfect of scratches. 

He took her note and favor and tottered off. 

— 

Shera knocked on Helaena’s door. “Hela?” she called softly. 

A handmaid opened the door and let her in, wide eyes upon Moongeist. 

The solar was lovely, decorated in blue and purple silks upon the ceiling. There were framed pinnings of various bugs upon the walls, some of them being very rare if she remembered correctly. 

Upon the floor were strewn children’s toys, like wooden dragons that Helaena had when she was little, along with soldier dolls and princess dolls. Some children’s books were left open, some neatly stacked near the settee. 

Shera’s eye landed on Helaena, who was bobbing a toddler on her knee on the couch. A white haired child approached her, his violet eyes wide. He was the spitting image of Aegon as a child. 

“Who’s you?” he asked, not afraid to stare— like all children do. 

“Shera!” Helaena exclaimed, humming as she hoisted the smaller child onto her hip. “Jaehaerys, this is your auntie Shera.” 

“Auntie… Shera…” the little boy echoed. “Is she married to uncle Aemond?” 

Helaena’s face blanched slightly. “No, dearest,” she hummed. “She is very close to me, like a sister. Like Jaehaera is your sister.” 

“Oh,” he murmured. “She doesn’t have white hair. And she has a dog.” 

“He’s a wolf, Jaehaerys,” Shera chimed in. “Has your mumma read to you about direwolves and Winter Kings yet?” 

“A woof,” the smallest child chimed in, bouncing happily upon Helaena’s hip. “A woof, a woof!” 

“Well, I should introduce the children. You have already met Jaehaerys,” Helaena ruffed up his white curls as he continued to stare at Shera unabashedly. “He has a twin sister, Jaehaera. Who is…” Helaena swirled around. “She is hiding behind the settee,” she whispered, leading Shera to look at the pair of violet eyes peeking over the furniture at her. “And this is my youngest, Maelor. He is two years old. The twins are five.” 

“They’re gorgeous Hela,” Shera mused. “Jaehaerys looks just like Aegon, I thought I had stepped into the past when I saw him. Maelor, however,” she added, smiling at the little cherubic face of the youngest prince, who was blushing and giggling, “looks just like his mumma.” 

“Come sit, lovey,” Helaena said as she put Maelor down on the floor near the toys. “Lunch should be here soon. You look darling in that shade. You look like a jeweled beetle,” she hummed, offering her hand to Shera, which she took. Hela’s palm was warm, like a toasty fire, but not sweltering. It felt akin to being swaddled with a blanket. “Can I show you some of my bugs?” 

“Of course,” Shera agreed, feeling genuinely at ease. The solar was lively and lived in, surely because of the children— it felt… homely and not sterile and lifeless like some others’ chambers. 

Off to the far wall, Helaena led her to a bookshelf, carved in draconic designs and various Old Valyrian sigils that she couldn’t quite parse. It was stocked from top to bottom with various books, mostly pertaining to the taxonomy and biology of insects and arachnids— but there were some familiar titles snuck in as well. 

‘The Winter Kings of Yore: An Account of the North’. 

“Hela— you still have this?” Shera asked, her hand thumbing over the positively ancient book, prising it from the shelf. She remembered this was one of her favorite books as a child and would request Helaena to read it when they bathed. 

“Of course! I still have this one, too. ‘Tis Maelor’s favorite.” she pointed to another book, nestled next to the other tome. It was much shorter, but its hard cover was more colorful with streams of blue and purple thread embroidered into a moon and an image of a wolf. 

‘Moonpuppy’. It was a children’s book, the only one Shera had brought with her to King’s Landing when she arrived at age five. 

“Oh Gods,” Shera breathed, her fingertips skimming over the embroidery. It wasn’t the original binding of the book— the book was well loved into bits, to where the inner pages only remained at one point. Shera and Helaena had worked tirelessly for a whole moon trying to prise it back together. The princess embroidered the cover, trying to make it as close to the original as possible. 

Opening the book, she remembered they even made a title page, inked in their silly children’s handwriting. 

‘Moonpuppy, edition II. By Helaena Targaryen and Shera Stark.’

Shera wanted to cry. She sniffed, carefully going through the pages. “Helaena, how have you managed to make me cry twice now?” 

“Tears of happiness, my little wolf spider,” Hela whispered. “You should read it to Maelor. You were always better at the voices than I.”

“Oh, Hela— I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, heat coming to her ears. “It… hurts to speak for long and I cannot project… what if he cannot hear me?” 

“Even at two, he is a very good listener. He is nothing like his father in that regard.” 

Shera wiped away her tears and went to sit down. “Maelor, is this your favorite book?” 

“Mwoonpubby!” the toddler exclaimed, jumping to attention right away. 

“Do you know all the words? It’s been quite a while since I’ve read— I may need help remembering.” 

“Mumma reads it every night— can I be the pubby and you be the mwoon?” 

The strength of Shera’s smile almost hurt her face. “Of course.” 

She began her reading, her fingertips buzzing with elation and a strange sense of anxiety.

Once, long ago, there was a puppy. 

He lived in the bitter cold and was very small, but that was okay. He had a large family to keep him warm. 

His mumma and papa talked to the moon each night, encouraging him to do the same. 

‘I don’t know what to say.’ said the little pup. 

‘Whatever is in your heart, dearest. The moon will listen. She will always listen.’ His mumma soothed him, fiddling over his fur with her big tongue. 

One day, it was very dark. Usually, at night, they had the light of the moon. But it was gone this night, smothered in fog and clouds. 

The little pup whined, trudging in the snow. He was lost! He was lost and he couldn’t find his way back to his mumma. 

‘Mumma! Mumma!’ he howled to the sky, to the hidden stars, to the darkened moon. ‘Moon? Moon?’ 

Shera cleared her throat, feeling the pinch of her nerves creeping up on her. She wanted to finish it— she had to.

There was no answer. He was alone. 

He cried and cried for hours, so alone and so cold without his family to warm him. He missed his mumma so badly, he missed the moon. 

‘I don’t talk to you much,’ the pup said, muzzle to the sky. ‘I don’t have much to say usually. I am sorry.’ 

He shuffled his paws as he huddled under a low hanging ledge, out of the snow. It was still wet and he was cold, but it was better than nothing. 

He felt cold still, cold in his bones— 

A light shined down upon him, finally. The moon had broken through the fog. 

Her voice was so hoarse now, that nary a sound came out. Moongeist nuzzled his snout under her hand in a gesture to tell her to take it easy. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t, her voice catching within the brambles of her inflamed vocal cords. 

“S’okay, auntie Shewa,” Maelor said, toddling up onto the couch and snuggling up to Shera without any reservation. “I can finish it, I know all the pawrts. Mumma gets tired too sometimes… so I finish the stowy.” 

He could see, he could see. ‘Oh, thank you, thank you!’ he howled and barked and yipped. 

‘You should talk to me more, little pup,’ the moon cooed, bathing him in her silver light. ‘My sweet little moonpuppy.’ 

His pack found him quickly, all piling near him to keep him warm. He snuggled into their furs, looking up at the sky. 

The moon was full that night, full and bright. 

“Auntie Shewa?” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I pet your woof?” 

Shera looked to Helaena and gave a nod.

“You have to be gentle, like with the bugs.” Helaena stepped in, saving Shera from further talking— to which she was grateful for. 

“Uh huh…” Maelor mumbled, dragging his chubby little hand over Moongeist’s fur in a gentle manner so unlike a toddler. “Soft.” 

Moongeist licked the boy’s head, cowlicking his white curls into one. He giggled with delight.

–

They all lunched together, Helaena insisting that they sit on the floor and eat with the children. They sat in a circle, the kids having their porridge. They each had different toppings, which felt so much like them.

Jaehaerys had cut up ham atop his, accompanied by a smattering of frizzled onions. 

Jaehaera, on the other hand, had pieces of stewed pumpkin atop hers, glazed with cinnamon and maple syrup. It had some roasted pumpkin seeds atop for crunch. She had more of a sweet tooth than her brother, it seemed.

Maelor had a smaller bowl with plain porridge and melted butter– he glanced at Shera’s plate, to which her and Helaena were both eating parboiled quail eggs, dipping their toasted bread in the yolk. 

“Mumma– want egg,” Maelor muttered, swirling his spoon in his porridge. 

“What kind of egg, darling?” Helaena asked.

“I want what Auntie Shewa has,” he continued. “Dippy egg.”

“Maera,” Helaena called to her handmaiden. “Can you please have the cooks whip up some dippy eggs for Maelor– and mayhaps a bone for Moongeist, too?” 

The thumping of a tail was heard as the wolf heard ‘bone’ and ‘Moongeist’ in the same sentence. He stayed near Shera, but also in close proximity to Maelor, who had become quite attached to the wolf very quickly. The toddler offered porridge from his spoon to him, who happily slurped up the food with a wagging tail. 

Soon enough, Maelor was devouring his dippy eggs with toast. Helaena leaned forward now, tracing little circles on the plush rug they sat upon. “It was supposed to be different, you know.” 

Shera blinked. “What was?”

“I was supposed to be betrothed to Jacaerys– before… Aegon,” she started, eyes glazed over and looking towards somewhere far away, somewhere not completely there. “It might have been nice. I don’t know.”

“... really? You and Jacaerys?” she raised a brow. She couldn’t imagine Alicent ever agreeing to such a thing.

“Mother wasn’t pleased. Father pushed and pushed but mother was stronger and pushed back. It was a flash in the pan, so to speak. I wish I knew where we would be now if she had agreed.” 

“You would be upon Dragonstone, Hela– with… Jace’s children, presumably,” Shera cringed inwardly at the thought– that would be her some day.

Helaena wrinkled her nose at the thought, seemingly agreeing with Shera’s sentiment. “For all his faults–” she got up then, tugging Shera to her feet and leading her to the open window. “Aegon is… good with the children. When he is here. I don’t… he isn’t my husband in feeling– but he is my brother. What are we, any of us– but beholden to the mistakes of our families. All of us.”

Shera stayed silent as they sat on the windowsill together, letting Helaena talk. It seemed like something she didn’t talk about much– if ever. 

“He got the worst of mother’s rage. It broke something in him. But I think there is something broken in all of us, even mother,” Helaena reached to the trellis, plucking a beetle that was hiding between two folded leaves. “All of her children are cursed in some way,” she lifted her periwinkle gaze to Shera then. “You are one of her children, too.” 

“... cursed,” she echoed. Yes, that seems about right.

“Will you survive?” the princess turned the conversation then. “Upon Dragonstone?”

“I don’t know.” she answered truthfully, talking in honesty about the betrothal to someone for the first time. She tried before with Cregan, but he didn’t listen. 

“You’ll have to take the reins, you know,” Helaena prattled on, staring at the beetle with her full, rapt attention. It was blue in color, gleaming like a sapphire jewel in the sunlight. “Take them and steer them. You’ll be the only one able to change it– the trees bleed, Shera– cut lip, punctured wood...”

Shera’s brow furrowed further. Helaena was known to descend into her ramblings– but something within her tingled at the words. She didn’t know what they meant, but it made her stomach churn. She felt the whoosh of air from outside the window, a cream colored blur in the edge of her vision. She didn’t hear it, only felt it and saw it, fleeting. It landed upon a spiked point of the keep, across the way from the window– but she couldn’t parse what it was. Shera blinked profusely, bringing her hands to her eyes and rubbing them. When she looked again, it was gone, mayhaps never even there. 

“Hold the beetle, Shera,” Hela hummed, offering the jewel colored insect to her. “You remember how to hold them?”

“Gentle,” she responded, voice so quiet that it was hardly even a whisper. The beetle crawled eagerly onto her palm, roving around slowly. 

“I need to clean up the children for naptime. Maera,” the princess called, hopping off of the window sill. She walked to the handmaiden, who was a head taller than Helaena. Her dark brown hair was braided in one long wisp, a few errant strands sticking to her forehead. She had tanned skin and dark eyes, with a curved nose. The handmaiden smiled to Helaena and they whispered to one another, clearly very familiar, before they disappeared toward the nursery.

Her surroundings blurred as she kept her attention on the beetle. It seemed so simple, so… calm, despite being in the palm of a would-be predator. The light reflected off of its blue colored carapice, the elytra buzzing ever so slightly. It wanted to stretch, the slight unfold of its wings captivating Shera. She wondered what it was like to fly– she had always refused Jacaerys when he asked her to join him atop Vermax. But if… if she were the one flying, she may not be so scared. Her shoulders rolled in tandem with the beetle, feeling a crack of her bones and the ghostly sensation of her own wings clawing out from them. 

The beetle’s antenna wriggled, its little claws digging into her palm, pulling itself along. It wanted to go, it wanted to fly. Leaning towards the window, she saw the great expanse of the sky, littered now with clouds. There was a little breeze now, ruffling the gentle film of the wings as they extended– they looked and felt broken when coming from their sutures, but straightened out quickly. Crawling closer, closer to the breeze, flitting upon it. Hovering now, legs dangling ever expertly. Regarding the indoors one last time– pushing forward into the open air, flight, flight, wisping upon the breeze… was this freedom? 

“Shera! Open your eyes!” 

The breeze died upon her face as she turned to see Helaena at her side, a few maids behind her looking terrified– Moongeist was whining at her feet. 

“Shera?” Helaena whispered now, her periwinkle eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“... yes– um,” she glanced around nervously at the maids, who were now chittering amongst themselves. 

“Thank you, ladies– you may go now. I will call the maester myself if Shera falls ill again.” 

Ill? She was awake that entire time, she knew it– she was… focusing on the beetle… the beetle…

“Hela– where is the beetle?” 

“The beetle…” she breathed, looking over to the table. 

Shera looked to see an open lightbox, the beetle was in it. It was seized up, not moving. 

“It fell. Its thorax got torn on the windowsill– I will fix it before I pin it,” the princess sighed. “The breeze was too strong.”

“Is it dead?” 

“Yes.” 

Shera felt cold, a chill creeping at her back. “I should… I should get some rest, I think. M-much excitement for me today, I think.”

Helaena nodded.

–

Shera laid in bed, taking her dinner in her chambers. She felt… utterly exhausted. The day had been tumultuous, even without her… disassociating spell in Helaena’s chambers.

Her fingers roved over a book– it was something that was just left in her room for decoration and no real substance. Her eye strained as she tried to focus on the words. It was already hard enough to read with only one working eye, but with the content of this book being so boring, she couldn’t parse any of it at all. 

Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks rapt upon her door.

“I don’t need any tea,” she croaked out, unable to project her voice. She slipped out of her bed, adorned in her nightgown– it was fairly see-through, so she grabbed a blanket and slipped it over her head and body, snugging it close. She hated being caught without her veil on. “Please, come back in the morning.” she muttered as she opened the door, peeking her face out slightly.

“I’m afraid I cannot take no for an answer, Lady Stark,” Aemond hummed, standing before her in all his glory. He wasn’t dressed for bed– she wondered if he wore his riding and sparring leathers to bed, too. “I was tasked with delivering some… reading material to you.” 

Shera perked a brow inquisitively. “Reading material?” She hadn’t requested anything specific from the library.

“Can I come in?” 

Shera bit her lip. “Yes… I suppose…” she opened the door wider for him to come in as she scrambled to find a veil to wear. 

“No need for that. I won’t look if it makes you uncomfortable.” he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. He had two books in his hands as he looked around the room. 

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Shera grunted, a bit indignantly. His words from the dinner still echoed in her head. Mayhaps it's a mangled mess under there. She remembered him laughing at her earlier in the day when her veil had slipped slightly. Her cheeks burned as she pulled the blanket taut around her, facing away from him. 

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” he said flatly, putting the books down on the side table next to the chaise. “But, out of respect, I won’t look.” 

She was sure he meant it as a way to soothe her worry, but she couldn’t help but feel tears start to form. Hastily, she wiped them away. “What was so important that this… delivery couldn’t wait until morn?” she glanced at him, her eyes stinging. “And why you?” she added, her punctuation of you a bit more harsh than she intended. 

Aemond’s brow knit as he regarded her. He said he wouldn’t look, the liar. 

She whipped in the opposite direction quickly. 

“Helaena asked me to deliver you this… and I had one to give you as well. Think of it as a betrothal gift.” he muttered, beginning to walk the room as if he wasn’t an intruder. Well, she had invited him in. 

Moongeist was snoozing on the bed, belly up. His legs twitched in the air as he whimpered softly from dreaming. Aemond stared at him. “This is your valiant protector? He is sleeping on the job.” 

“He deserves rest— you aren’t a threat to me, Aemond. He senses that,” she replied. Not a threat physically, at least. You’re a predator to my mind. 

“Hm,” he hummed, walking to the table where she still had two honey walnut cakes sitting out. “You enjoyed them, I take it?” 

“What?”

“The cakes. I had a maid bring them to you this morn.” 

“Oh– it was you,” she murmured, the tips of her ears flushing under the implication. “... thank you. It… helped.” 

“You were… distressed– these always used to cheer you up.”

Shera let out a tentative breath. He had thought of her– and remembered her favorite sweet? And… cared enough to have them brought to her. Maybe… maybe he didn’t loathe her so. “They were… very good,” she continued, letting a smile come to her face. It felt strange to smile around Aemond after so long.

“Yes, the cook who made them still works in the kitchens,” he picked up one, taking a bite. He had liked them as well, but his favorite had always been blueberry scones. “She surprisingly hasn’t kicked the bucket yet– still working away down there, at seventy-five. Mother offered her retirement and a nice hole in the wall shack near the wharf. She refused, adamant to work until she died.” he made a noise of surprise at the taste. “Still good.” 

“I’m surprised you remembered, Aemond,” she walked closer then, making sure to snatch the last one off of the plate before he decided to take it, too. She took a bite, the honey sticking to her fingers.

“I remember a lot, Shera,” he pulled out a chair and took a seat. Why was he staying?

 Her heart stopped momentarily as he said her name. She buried herself further into the pastry to hide her red cheeks. “Memories are a plague,” she grumbled, pulling up her legs to her chest after she settled into the chair next to him. 

“That they are, most of them are. A festering, decrepit reminder of… things best left forgotten. However,” he leaned forward then, his thumb cleaning off a drip of errant honey from the corner of her mouth. “I do remember, you were always a messy eater. Some things don’t change, do they?”

She shivered as he touched her with such… gentleness he hadn’t displayed at all since she’s been back. It was a glimpse into the boy he used to be– he was still there, deep down. She almost choked on the rest of her cake, putting it down on the plate as she quietly licked her fingers, trying to distract herself. “... no, some things don’t change.” 

“The book weren’t the only reason I came– Helaena asked me to ask you if you would like to come on a picnic to the Kingswood tomorrow. With Aegon, the children, Helaena and I. She told me that… Maelor required you bring Moongeist.” 

Shera stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and owlish. The blanket slipped from her head slightly as she leaned forward, snatching the remainder of Aemond’s honey walnut cake from his fingers. “I suppose– as long as there are more cakes,” she hummed, feeling a slightly giddy sensation tingle down her spine as she devoured the rest. “How on earth did you manage to get Aegon to agree?” 

“I promised that there would be wine,” he watched, his violet eye roving her face unabashedly as she finished the pilfered sweet. 

“And?” 

“And… mayhaps I threatened to pay all the brothels off to not service him any longer if he did not attend.” 

–

Aemond left soon after, bidding her goodnight in a very stiff and still… somewhat cold in manner. But he was trying– she could see that. 

Before tucking back into bed, she looked to see the books he had left for her.

One was the copy of ‘Moonpuppy’ that she had read earlier that day.

The other, the supposed ‘gift’ from Aemond, was a well-worn, well-loved copy of the old folk hero ‘Symeon Star-Eyes’. Upon opening the cover and flitting through the pages, she saw many notes and footnotes on each page– it was Aemond’s handwriting. He had left his thoughts on each page– as she descended through the book, his handwriting changed and evolved. It started off very shaky and tenuous, but as she scanned through the end of the tome, it was confident and sophisticated. He had annotated this copy for years, his handwriting and views on the text changing with each year. Flipping back to the front, she looked at the date.

It was dated five moons after the Driftmark incident. Then, opening the back– it was dated a fortnight ago. He had written, noted, and journaled in this book for ten years.

Why did he give this to her?

[oldfashionedbutlervibes]

I have so many, so damn many headcanons for this little dork

And so, please enjoy some of my favorites

Dating him:

—If you are to take the dating him route, he 100 percent tries to be artsy for you, like he’ll try so hard to find clean paper and maybe a pencil in his dumpster or on the street to do a drawing of you (it actually doesn’t look that bad if he finds his materials, but he cannot draw hands for the life of him)

— If you find him with fresh swan scarring I absolutely think he can’t handle having his wounds cleaned, like at all. He will probably yelp a lot and try and swat you away, especially if your using peroxide or sum, he just can’t-

—….since mashing your phone faces together is the equivalent of a kiss I think it’d kill him- if not from his literal face blowing up from embarrassment most definitely

—on a similar topic, HE. IS. SO. CUDDLY- would be hugging you 24/7 mmkay

—tried to steal you a valentines box of chocolate once. Ended up feeling so bad he returned it after a very short 15 minutes.

—….bottom…

Your his pal

—he has like..55 nicknames for you and uses them depending on occasion

—never ever ever forgets your birthday even if you don’t stay friends long

—will truly do anything in his power to make you happy

—your killing the spider btw

—I so believe that he has found a full deck of cards in his dumpster and begs you to play uno with him :)

General

—I think he’s been mugged by stabby and shooty so many times that their just on first name basis

—tries counseling Jerry when he can 10000%, he will come over to the booth and try asking about his marriage which only makes poor Jerry feel worse but will try to not show that so Randy feels useful <3 (not like a ship but as bros)

— P A N S E X U A L (probably cannon by now but still let me have this)

—Has one attempted murder charge against his God-

—scared of every single bug except butterflies

—had a stray dog as a pet once (he named it Poof or sum)

—On the subject of animals I think he honks back at the swans to try and assert dominance

Overall I just see him as quite the silly, 10/10 partner 11/10 friend >:D

(Update: OH MY GOD- YALL ARE LIKING THIS A LOT HM? DO YOU WANT ME TO MAKE SOME JERRY/OLIVER ONES? LEAVE EM IN MY ASKS PLEASE-)

[tempobrucera]

Poetry Dies Last

Pairing: Thomas x Reader; Thomas x Reader x Ethan Summary: Thomas can’t quite believe his eyes when he sees you fifteen years after the last time. And then he's waiting. Wordcount: 3.4k Warning(s): 3k of sadness, alternative ending to All my friends and Let the devil (can be read without the other ones but then you’re missing the happy end) A/N: @maneskings Thanks for loving this story as much as you do <3

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

Thomas’ seven days of heaven and hell began on a Saturday. 

Someone I loved once gave me a box of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.¹

Thomas reads it again. And again. And again, again, again, again. 

Handwritten into one of Ethan’s notebooks he found in a box hidden away. A box his partner told him to clear out as she explained to him that it would be nice to use the space for something else as if it would and should be the easiest thing in the world for him. Space for something else than his personal baggage, he thinks. 

The whole morning, he went through Ethan’s scribbles while she was sleeping on the couch with their dog only a few steps away. Peacefully slumbering while Thomas went into turmoil. He knows better, he shouldn’t lurk through Ethan’s thoughts or go through his notebooks, he should give them back to him but he can’t help himself.

The Mary Oliver quote he reads over and over again was written by you. He wonders if you knew how this would end when writing it. 

We’re under the same moon and I’m sick with that knowing.²

Ethan wrote it under your quote. He feels sick, and still he wants to go somewhere he hasn’t been for years. Thomas still thinks about you and him with such intensity he worries it became his daily prayer.

She’s still on the couch when he puts the box full of knick knacks away. 

“I’m going to the beach.”

“Let’s take the dog,” she yawns, “And go to the beach then.”

“Sure.” It’s not what he wanted, he wanted to go alone, have time for himself and indulge in memories - the past. Doesn’t look like he’ll have the chance for that now.

She is sitting next to him on the passenger seat, her hand on his thigh. The drive is quiet - no words being spoken. There’s only music coming from the speakers he wouldn’t have chosen himself, some noises coming from the dog. He feels like he has to get out of this car before he slows it down.

At the beach he gets a beer and some fries as he did so often. Sharing his beer with Ethan and sharing his fries with you. Days and nights full of laughter, sand everywhere, and the far away thought that the year is already over when the summer begins. The other thought that he’s still with the people he loves. Now he just looks at the sea, how the water laps against the shore. Nipping on his beer. Just one hand in his lap, his dog walking around them.

Two figures are on the horizon but otherwise this part of the beach is empty this time of the day. They have a dog with them as well. He sighs and prepares himself to leash his dog and for a lot of barking.

“Come here, Cinnamon.” He already takes the leash, pets her head and pleads with her. “No barking and jumping people today, okay? Please.”

His partner laughs next to him, loud and freely, he smiles.

The figures are holding hands and one of them is whistling for the dog that comes closer and closer, Cinnamon happily wagging her tail, ready to jump already. But the other dog changes direction, running away from them again. And then there’s a laugh. A laugh that has his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. The fierceness of his own feelings sets him aflame. There’s too many feelings he can’t shake off. It’s your laugh he hears and for a moment he thinks he deluded himself into making up the voice in his head just to feel closer to you again. But there’s a red umbrella with yellow sprinkles that he thought he had misplaced years ago in a hand that isn’t yours before he sees your face and how you’re holding hands with someone that isn’t him. 

“Bagel, no.” Your voice is ringing in his ears and Thomas has to close his eyes before he can’t take them off you. There’s a smile around your lips, the guy next to you looks like someone he would have tried to befriend if things would be different. “I assure you these people have no food but I have treats. Sit.”

“I wish Cinnamon would do that and listen sometimes.”

He just hums in agreement. When you look at him Thomas’ whole world stops for a few seconds. He waves - just to see if you react but you don’t wave back and for the last moment you look at him he asks himself if you might have forgotten him entirely. You look ahead and he slowly lets his arm sink down. Cinnamon licks his hand before she walks away. Love is humiliating, he thinks, and wonders if the person next to him sometimes thinks the same.

“Someone you know?”

“I must have mistaken them for someone I used to know.”

He didn’t. He is sure. And when he sees a new DM on Instagram, a photo of you smiling at him, he is certain. You unfollowed him years ago, he did the same but somehow he always came back to check on you. Love in the age of followers, always reminded of each other somehow.

Are you happy?

It has been 15 years. A lifetime away, so long ago. Still seeing you walking along the beach, hand in hand with someone else, a dog running around your legs, breaks Thomas' heart. Again. Over, and over, and over, and over. 

The Ouroboros ring is still on his middle finger, like it was all these years ago. There's another ring on his ring finger, glistening in the sun. After all the ring he turns to when he's nervous, when he doesn't know what to do with his hands, he reaches for the one around his neck. It was a promise. Never quite broken, but never fulfilled. 

Thomas reaches for it now. His hand still shaking, he wishes you would have looked at him longer, just for a little longer. A second, a minute, just a moment longer. A moment that would have felt like another lifetime. He was close to following you, leaving everything else behind. His dog trudges over, licks his knee, and lays down in his lap - always knowing when he's about to break. There's a hand on his other knee.

Nothing lasts. There is a graveyard where everything I am talking about is, now. I stood there once, on the green grass, scattering flowers.³

He has read those lines once. In one of Ethan's poetry collections, or maybe Ethan read them to him. Thomas has to think about it now, nothing lasts, and everything five feet under. Him, Ethan, you, everything said and everything locked away.

Happy? He isn't happy, he hasn't been in a while. That was a lifetime ago.

He doesn’t know what you expect the answer to be, if you even want to hear the truth. 

No.

He types and sends it off.

.#####.

When he drives back to the beach on Sunday, this time alone, he is hopeful. It should scare him but he can’t remember when he felt this much hope flooding through his veins and his mind the last time. The windows are down, wind in his hair and he put Led Zeppelin on, so loud that he can’t hear himself hum to the melody.

He gets his fries and his beer. For a second he thought about asking Ethan to join him, even just for the feeling to not be alone. He didn’t ask, he didn’t say anything, Ethan’s notebooks still in the box at the same spot in the house he made himself a home out of. 

But he lets his mind wander back in time. To the times where you and him were watching the sun. When you leaned your head against his shoulder. When you would eat your fries, laugh and tell him from your week. To the times Ethan was there, how Ethan kissed his neck and you kissed his face. To when you went skinny dipping, Thomas splashing Ethan’s face and Ethan dunking him under water in turn and him only feeling safe because your hands never left his body until he resurfaced and he had to cough. But before he could get mad there was always someone to kiss him.

He’s waiting. Waiting for you to appear out of nowhere, to step in his life again like you did the day before. You don’t show up, there’s no answer from you, nothing that would even suggest that you even saw him yesterday.

Thomas would like to stay but he promised to be somewhere else this evening and he can’t wait any longer. He promised Ethan something a while ago and he is sure that everyone else thinks that he has forgotten about it just after saying it.

“You made it.” Vic smiles at him when he sits down on the seat between her and Damiano. Damiano smiles at him as if he knows something no one else does but isn’t saying anything. As expected of him he claps when Ethan is called on the stage and sits down but when he is the only one still doing so Vic elbows him in the ribs slightly.

“Sorry.”

Vic dismisses it with a hand gesture. The whispering from the audience is dying down and only then Ethan begins to speak, book in his lap, glasses on his nose. There’s no introduction, no hello or pleasantries. He just opens the book and starts reading. 

“For the ceiling full of stars.”

Thomas’ hands shake and he clutches to his own thighs. His head spins and he only hears scraps of what is being said.

“Explain the children of the world that they should stop growing If there's one thing no one needs, it's more people who hate themselves.”

He knows he will start crying in a second, Vic takes his hand and he’s afraid to crush it.

“And then explain to the lovers, the constant pain of endless searching And if the tears bother us, explain that they are always part of it.”

There are tears rolling down his cheeks, Vic isn’t letting go of his hand and Damiano hands him a tissue as if he came prepared. The rest of the reading he tries to breathe, his vision blurred from tears. He can’t wait to get out of here, this room, away from people, away from all the words that sting and away from Ethan. But Victoria isn’t letting go of him, even when they are standing up. There are tears drying on his cheek while he watches how Ethan’s boyfriend goes to him, hugs him and presses a chaste kiss to his lips, Damiano puts his arm around him, and Ethan looks at him. Thomas’ eyes are closed when Ethan comes to him, he’s sure he makes a pathetic noise when Ethan wipes a stray tear away from his cheek with his thumb, kisses him on the forehead, and then he hugs him. Slowly Thomas lets go of Vic’s hand and his nails are digging into Ethan’s back. Ethan gives him the book he read out of earlier on stage.

Poetry Dies Last - Ethan Torchio

When he looks over Ethan’s shoulder he can see how Ethan’s boyfriend looks at him sceptically.

But he comes over and gives him a quick hug as well, his voice dangerously close to his ear: “I don’t like it but I guess I have to live with you.”

.#####.

Monday afternoon he takes Cinnamon and leaves the house without saying a word and a drive later he finds himself at the beach again.

He waits, again. There’s hope that he can’t quite explain, he’s haunted with it. There’s love he hasn’t felt in a while somewhere under all the pain. He’s only going backwards it seems. Cinnamon next to him howls at the waves when she thinks they are coming too close to him.

You don’t come to see him. 

His bare feet are resting in the sand that is cooling down from the heat of the day.

There’s something Ethan quoted once he has to think about: I want nothing. I just want the emptiness to mean something.⁴

Thomas thinks he still knows how ice cream tastes off your lips.

.#####.

Tuesday he’s back in the same spot. He stays longer this time, darkness engulfing him. He’s alone this time but he can see the lights of a small port somewhere in the distance. 

Even when you don’t come he knows the lights will still always be there. Somewhere far away but still there for him to see. He would like to know what you’re up to, how you’re doing, where you are. If your dog is in your lap. He wanted to have forgotten you by now but he’s still sitting at your beach waiting for you. 

It’s easier during the day, when it’s light outside. But now it’s dark and the sea is whispering your name. He wonders if you’re still thinking about him like he thinks about you but he’s certain that you’re far from that. The only thing he ever wanted was someone to see the mess he is and despite everything find him worthy to be loved. You and Ethan to love him anyway.

It pains him how much he thinks about you. How much seeing you turned his world upside down again. 

Thomas lights himself a cigarette. A cigarette he stole from Ethan earlier in the day, an old habit resurfacing again. The first drag of the cigarette feels and tastes weird on his tongue but by the third it feels pleasant. He hasn’t smoked in five years. Something his new partner encouraged and wanted, and he just gave in. Too many bad memories of people handling him without care, too scared that love turns into something else.

The lights are brighter than he remembers. And you're gone, forgetting him and kissing someone somewhere else.

.#####.

Early on Wednesday before she even wakes up, he takes Cinnamon and drives back to the beach. Maybe, that little bit of hope tells him, he’s only there at the wrong time. He gets himself breakfast and a coffee, planning to get his beer and his fries later in the day. The dog jumps around his legs when they’re walking along the shoreline. Running after a toy he throws and bringing it back to him, jumping up to encourage him to run with her.

He’s out of breath when he sits down but he has a small smile on his face. It slowly drops off his face when there’s a new text on his phone.

Where are you? Are you ok?

He thinks about his new relationship, that he changed. That he’s bored with everything and has a boring life with boring sex which feels more like a chore than a blessing and with a relationship that only gives him the feeling to not be alone. He still has his bar that brings him joy and playing live which he always loved the most in his life but everyone around him moved on.

Sometimes Vic would sit next to him, head on his shoulder, and say: “I know you grew up but … I miss my Thom.”

He doesn’t want to be that person, boring, bitter and closed off. And he isn’t, he can’t. He can’t let people from the past win over him like this. People who hurt him, people who scared him, people who abused him. Thomas learned that he has to let certain things go, that they are weighing on him too heavily but he still can’t let go of everything. The sand of the beach passes through his fingers. Maybe the longing for something more is his way of surviving. 

Thomas would smile one of his silly smiles. But Vic would elbow him and tell him not to fake it. Not for her. He would feel bad about it for a few moments and Vic would manage to put Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide on, take his hand and dance around with him wherever they were.

On these days he would be himself, feel like he was still 21. Go party with Vic during the night, drink, dance on tables, feel free and like how it’s supposed to be. He would come home late or rather early in the morning, would lay down next to her and think about how much he misses your warmth and Ethan’s lips that would press against his neck.

When he comes back home during the depths of the night he takes the notebook out of the box again. 

“I exist in two places, here and where you are.”⁵ 

He feels exactly like this quote you wrote down in Ethan’s and your collection of poetry quotes years ago. He wonders if you were thinking about him then.

.#####.

He takes Ethan’s poetry book he pressed into Thomas’ sweaty hands the other day. It’s already Thursday but he still goes back to the beach, she looks at him worried when he takes his keys. 

He was never an avid reader, the complete opposite to Ethan, but he wants to know what has been written even when the tears will drip down onto the pages later.

For: The ceiling full of stars.

There’s a handwritten note Ethan wrote on the page in red ink. 

“I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.” - Unknown

Hearts are so easily broken. And I’m sorry, I still go to bed in one of your old t-shirts you forgot at mine sometimes. There’s still songs I put on playlists for you. Playlists full of songs I like because you loved them first. Everything sticks with you in certain ways even if the people don’t and people feel about you the same. I can’t make it sound poetic but the door will always be open if you ever feel like coming home.

Ethan

He didn’t expect the tears to come so easily or so fast but they are. It meant something is the only thing he can think about. 

He’s a shaking mess when he turns to the last page hours later.

I love(d) quite passionately, and always with a hint of tragedy.⁶ 

He almost skips the acknowledgement segment at the end of the book. But his name being first on the page catches his eye. Yours right under his makes his stomach turn.

We could have been okay.

And only then there’s Vic and Damiano getting their thanks.

He’s still sitting in the sand and hoping. It’s time to get his cold beer and fries that are dripping with grease. On the way he thinks about the time Vic told him that she saw you, breaking down in her arms, when he left for Los Angeles with a person that wasn’t good for him and he noticed too late, everyone did. How Vic told him only years later, he thought he wouldn’t forgive her but the one he can’t forgive is only himself.

He wishes he wouldn’t have turned around that day, that maybe he wouldn’t have moved, that things would be different now.

The thought that Vic was right, she’ll break your heart, Thomas. How he has been to hell and back and how he would still say it was wonderful.

.#####.

It feels unreal that it is already Friday again. It’s almost a week since he has seen you. His guitar is on his lap. 

This morning he gave her a kiss and she smiled at him. Tired but happy to still have him there. He felt exhausted. Exhausted from looking for something from someone he knows can’t give him what he needs. Deep down he knows she’s hurting too but she still makes him breakfast and sends him off with another kiss.

“Is he okay?”

He hears Damiano ask. And he hears Vic’s worried voice too. They talk about him as if he isn’t there.

“I think he saw her,” Ethan says, “he mentioned something the other day.”

Later he leaves without saying goodbye, only taking the pack of cigarettes out of Ethan’s leather jacket. He wonders if Ethan knows that he started again, or if she can smell it on him when he comes home and lays down next to her in bed.

And then he's back at the beach. He took the notebook with him and his guitar. He has his beer and his fries and the taste of cigarettes that feels comforting to him in a way he doesn’t understand. He flicks through the pages thinking that it might inspire something heart-wrenching in him.

“And I’ll never see you again, if I can help it In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers Dedicated to new lovers”⁷

They don’t and when he picks up his guitar later, he still thinks about you instead of the woman waiting for him in his bed.

There’s a ripped out page in the notebook and Thomas swears to himself that tomorrow is the last day he will wait.

.#####.

It’s Saturday, the sun is about to go under. His bottle of beer is empty, fries are eaten and he knows he should go home, leave this place behind once again.

Thomas sees your naked feet in the sand when he wants to give up, sandals in your hand, before he sees into your face.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“Yes, did you wait?”

“Hope was stronger than not coming back, I guess.” You nod and then you sit down, next to him, close to him. Like he dreamt of every night this week. He looks down and takes his empties. “I have to get something, will you wait?”

Another nod.

Thomas goes to get another beer, more fries and a Sprite for you. There’s six cans of Sprite in his fridge from this week, just because he knows it would have been your drink of choice on a warm day while he can’t stand the taste. For some reason he didn’t take one earlier.

The guy looks at him annoyed: “Only drinks, sorry, I am already closed.”

“Please!” He fishes a 50 euro note out of his wallet.

“Give me ten minutes.” There’s a sigh and a slight shake of the head but the guy still takes his money. “Some large fries with ketchup and mayo, a beer, and … A sprite?”

Thomas nods. He’s nervous. Nervous that you’re gone before he’s back, that you already left, that you realised you made a mistake coming to see him. But when he’s coming back you’re still sitting where he left you. He sits down next to you in the sand and he hands you the fries and the can of Sprite.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For old times sake,” he says and you put your head down on his shoulder. It’s a little bit heartbreaking. A sentiment reserved for old lovers. For something that used to be but isn’t making it any smaller.

He takes a swig of his beer. It feels like you never have been strangers, not even for a second, it feels like you have been here with him for the whole way. 

“I miss you!”

“I miss you too,” you say, “both of you.”

“It’s too late … right?” He has to ask even when he knows what the answer is and that he doesn’t want to hear any of it. 

You twist the ring on your finger. It’s your wedding anniversary, you shouldn’t be here.

“Yes.”

Six years - he’s six years too late.

“We could just stay here.” He says regardless. “We could just leave, move somewhere close to the ocean and we could just live.”

He knows he’s building castles out of sand but he doesn’t want to stop, not for the moment.

“Sounds like a dream.”

“Can we just disappear?”

You’re holding his hand and your voice sounds tired: "Stop giving me always just that little bit of hope to stay. It hurts so much more, Thomas."

“We could just stay here.”

You aren’t letting go of his hand, you’re still holding it in yours. Maybe there are only endings after the first, everything ends because nothing is endless. Your head is still on his shoulders, he smokes, there’s tears again. And so many memories between you. 

“I’m glad you’re in Rome.”

“There’s a reason why Rome rhymes with home.”

You laugh at his stupid joke, like you always did.

“I want you to be happy, Thom.”

“It meant something, right?”

You sit up and you move the hand that isn’t holding his to his cheek. 

“It meant something, caro. Of course it did.”

Thomas doesn’t expect it and he can’t stop the whimper falling from his lips when you kiss him. He tastes like years ago. But you can’t shake the feeling that he tastes bitter underneath all the sweetness, the promises and the cigarette smoke. Under the surface it’s bitterness and lost chances. Another lifetime. It doesn’t stop you from leaning in to him and to deepen the kiss for how long it takes.

“I will stay,” Thomas says. Still a little breathless.

“I’ll leave,” you say, “And, Thomas? I love you. I’ll have to live with that. And you’ll have to make peace with everything else.”

“I wish it would be different.”

“I know,” you get up - there’s a last kiss to his lips and one to his cheek. A thumb that wipes a tear away once again. “Say hi to Ethan from me when you see him.”

And then you leave. Leaving him in the sand with castles he made out of air. And a ripped out page that has seen better days. 

“Maybe I’ll see you in another life If this one wasn’t enough So much time on the other side”⁸

Is what you have written down. And when he turns it he sees Ethan’s handwriting.

“Missing and silence. Isn’t that enough?”

He could just walk into the water. Wait for everything to go black. And maybe someone would kiss him again. Like all those years ago, after the feeling of drowning. Someone laughing next to him. 

He could and that scares him the most but he just sits there in silence.

“Thank you for stopping by all those years ago and for tonight.”

.#####.

END.

.#####.

For everyone who needs the real and actual happy ending now here you go: “All my friends told me you’d break my heart.”

Let the devil be my witness

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

Poetry & lyrics used:

¹ The Uses of Sorrow | Mary Oliver

² Elegy for the Four Chambers of My Brother’s Heart | Steven Espada Dawson

³ Flare | Mary Oliver

⁴ The Complete Short Stories (Scribner, 1987) | Ernest Hemingway

⁵ Selected Poems, 1965-1975 | Margaret Atwood

⁶ Not a direct quote but inspired by this clearly: Letters to Sartre | Simone de Beauvoir

⁷ Night Shift  Lucy Dacus

⁸ How Big, How Blue, How Beatiful | Florence + The Machine

.#####.

Taglist: @writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @lauraosheaoh, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @cheese-toastie-11, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @livvyysstuff, @que–sera–sera, @roisinlove123123, @romanoffswoman, @lovelyy-moonlight, @crwnnjules, @roisinlove123, @chocolatepizzatyrant, @whitewolf-writes, @lizzylynch1, @fugg1977, @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27

[justaaveragereader]

The Eight Evil Thoughts // OT8

Part 3: Envy

You were a firm believer that when you died you were bound to go to heaven…but what happens when you get casted straight down to hell. Before kneeling before the most famous evil thought/leader you run into the other evil thoughts along the way.

“Never underestimate the power of jealousy

and the power of envy to destroy.

Never underestimate that.” - Oliver Stone

🏔️ Pair: Reader x ????

🏔️Genre: Angst, Thriller, Possible Yandere, Suggestive, Slight Religion Talk, Cursing

🏔️Word Count: 4.1k

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

Tossing the apple in the air you continue your journey within the labryinth. Deciding to just give up you sit on the ground. Leaves crunching underneath you as you sit. Tossing your loser apple in the air to help pass the time. While trying to come up with any thoughts of how you are going to get out of here. Your last two visits, Mingi and Jongho, were a complete bust.

“I have to pass the rest of these. There is no room for failure now.”

Exhaustion slowly starts to take over you, eyes shutting while you grip the apple Jongho chucked at you. The apple felt like the only thing keeping you grounded like everything was a fever dream, the apple was your reality check, that it all was happening. This was all real.

Letting your thoughts come to a screeching halt you drift off. Sleep now fully consuming your body, a belly full of the apples from Jonghos orchard.

🏔️ 🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

You feel a wet soft object touch your face. The wetness throws you off, eyes flashing open ready to fend off what or whoever is deciding to disrupt your sleep. You move quickly to sit up, hand clutching the apple tightly.

Right before you is a small light brown dog with small white dots for eyebrows, its underside is completely white while its top half is a caramel brown color. Eyeing it closer…you are hesitant but hold your hand out so it can sniff you. Nudging its head forward in your hand like it’s signaling you to pet it. You decide to run your hand over the top of the dogs head, shocked completely that this dog, cute and innocent looking, would be down here in a place like this.

Tucking your apple into your side so the dog wouldn’t eat it. You bring your other hand up, squishing the dogs face together while petting it.

“Well how are you good boy? Who’s a good boy?” You repeat while cooing at the animal in front of you that looks so happy. Checking to see if the dog belongs to anyone you pull at the small collar around the dogs neck.

“Shiber?”

The dogs ears perk up at its name being called.

“Are you Shiber? Well, aren't you adorable Shiber!”

Continuing to coo at the cute dog in front of you. Rubbing its belly, the dog was just a big ball of love. This felt like the most human thing, the most normal interaction you had since you’ve been down here. Nothing was off about the dog; it looked like a normal dog. Getting lost in the affection and love for the dog. You hear a whistling noise. Shibers ears perk up. Assuming that this was the owner signaling for the dog to return, you brush your hand across the dogs head one more time.

“Come on boy, let's find your owner.”

Brushing your pants off while standing up, grabbing the apple. You notice Shiber is wagging its tail excitedly.

“Show me that way. Let’s go boy!.”

The dog happily starts trailing in front of you. Taking you through a heavily wooded area. It’s like you are on the edge of the woods. Nothing but dark trees and dead leaves are all that’s around you. Worried, you start to slow down. Shibber senses you aren’t walking anymore. Turning around to look at you he lets out a small bark.

“No can do buddy. I’ve had my share of scary places already.”

Letting out a small whimper noise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

“No. No. No…please come on. Don’t do this to me.” You whine out to the dog, the eyes tugging at your heart.

“Don’t do this please. You don’t understand the days I’ve had down here. Come on..!”

You whine to the dog who is proceeding to let out sad whimpers at you. Ears laying flat on his head head. Big sad eyes looking up at you. Letting out a groan you proceed forward.

Dead branches smacking you in the face, dead leaves in your hair, trying to not stumble on the dead roots on the ground. Putting so much focus into trying not to injure yourself you realize you have made it to the edge of the wooded area. Picking the dead leaves out of your hair with frustration.

“You know this is against my morals!”

You look down, eyeing the dog. Letting out a small groan of frustration. You decide to look around at your new surroundings.

“Wow…”

You are rendered speechless. You are surrounded by small house like pets from dogs all the way to small goldfish.

“It’s like a pet store here..”

You think out loud, still stunned by what is all in front of you almost missing the whistling noise that sounds off. This time it is much closer to you. Shiber nudges his head against your ankle knocking you out of your awe like state, looking down you rub your hand over his head.

“Alright boy, lead the way.”

Giving the dog a small smile, proceeding to follow behind him. Passing by so many animals…You had never seen so many animals in your life it was like being in a small zoo. Birds, fish, cats, you had even seen a snake just hanging out in a tree looking like it was resting. Following aimlessly behind this dog, it was like your feet were on auto pilot again. Everything was so amazing to you, you were being wrapped into the scenery.

“Ah..Shiber I see you’ve brought company!”

Coming to a screeching halt, body completely freezing, whipping your head to look at the person in front of you. His features were sharp, with a big brightening dimpled smile, about the same height as Jongho, and solid gold eyes, no pupil.

Shiber makes his way towards the young man before you. Rubbing his head against the mans pants leg. Wagging his tail excitingly. You knew right away this was his owner. He had such a comforting aurora but that ick like feeling was scratching at the back of your head. Screaming in warning but yet you could not fight the feeling you got seeing this solid gold eye man grin at you.

“I’- I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to enter your space without permission…I just wanted to make sure h-he got back to his owner…”

You say silently while letting a small smile creep on your face…eyeing the man closely.

“Nonsense! You are fine. Shiber has a tendency to play by his own rules, don’t you Shiber?”

He says while rubbing behind the dogs ears. You feel a sudden ick, upset he’s showing so much love and attention towards the dog yet you try to shake that feeling. He looks at the dog with so much love. You find it hard to believe a sweet man like this could be trapped down here. Yet you are still on guard, trying not to fall into any traps set up for you. You cannot afford to fail again.

“Are all these animals..yours?”

Letting another big dimple smile across his face he looks up at you, solid gold eyes boring into your own. Your brain is on high alert, it’s like it is screaming once again at you to get out of there but the way this man is smiling at you it’s hard to leave. Your heart is persuading you to stay. Your body feeling insecure the more he looks at you yet so fulfilled that he’s even glancing your way.

“Why yes they are! Have you taken a look around at them? If not, you should! They are the most gorgeous animals you’ll ever see.”

Getting lost in his smile you shake your head in a nodding motion. At a loss for words, there is so much you want to say but it’s like you are short circuiting. Feeling something brush against your leg, you look down. It’s by far the cutest cat you’ve ever seen.

“That’s Byeol, she’s quite friendly.”

Squinting slightly you see in the left eye of the man his solid gold eye is starting to slightly turn a green like color. Your brain now feels like it’s sounding off an alarm, bells, whistles are going off in your head yet you can’t get your body to move your heart is swooned. Bending down you rub your hand over the cats back. Shocked by how soft she is.

“Wow! She’s so soft! You must take very good care of her!”

He lets out a small laugh. This left eye slowly goes back to being fully gold. A big smile appears on his face, blush dusting his cheeks. He kicks slightly at the grass in a shy manner. Slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“I mean yea..I try.”

Smiling brightly through every word he says. Byeol and Shiber both seem to really like you. His eye once again starts slightly turning green. Feeling goosebumps litter your spine. Your brain once again feels like it’s yelling at you, calling you an idiot.

Bending down now fully crouching to scratch the cat, the apple Jongho threw at you falls out of your pocket, rolling right in front of the mans feet.

That’s when you hear it. The scribbling noise. You heard it with Mingi, you heard it with Jongho, now you are hearing it with this man. Slowly moving your hand off of the cat. You look up at the dimpled man before you. Cautiously standing up from your crouching position, noticing that one of his eyes is fully green. Standing fully..leaving the cat fully purring below you, walking in between your feet.

“You are one of them…. aren’t you?”

The man is just staring hard at the apple on the ground. Staring at it so hard you would think he could light it on fire just by his gaze.

“Where did you get this?”

Your eyes grow slightly in size. His voice sounds nothing like how it sounded just moments ago. He lets out a low chuckle. Suddenly it feels like everything around you had froze, the cat no longer is purring below you. Out of your peripheral vision you see Shiber whimpering with his ears close to his head like he is afraid. A sinister smile graces his face.

“Where did you get this apple?”

Now fully scared you slowly back away..putting as much distance between you and the mystery man as you can. Eyes darting around looking for any sign of what the name to this man could be. Whoever he is has had no effect on you so he must not be as powerful as the others you’ve come across. Eyes still dancing around you glance back towards Shiber. There it is! There is a board with his name on it. Slightly stretching your neck to see the name.

“I’m going to ask once more…and once more only…Where did you get this apple?”

Nervously you bite your lip. Goosebumps are now littering your whole body. Fight or flight is now in full gear. You could just turn around, run away but you are too frightened to move. Fear is nipping away at you. Everything is still so still, so quiet around you. All the animals you had been hearing earlier are no longer making any noise, like they never existed. Shrinking back into standing up straight, as curious as you are to figure out who he is, your body is quivering with anxiety which is taking over.

“From Jongho…”

You say through a whisper.

The man lets out a sick cackle. One eye is now fully dark green while the other is sparkling gold. His grip on the apple now is so tight you see his knuckles are now turning white. He’s now laughing so hard he’s bent over his face almost touching his knees like he is caving in on himself.

“Can you just give the apple back to me please..?”

Continuing his hysterical laughter, gold and green tears are running down his face, smacking the ground. One hand on his chest like he’s trying to catch his breath. You can almost taste the uneasiness, the ick now running up your spine.

“Sir please..I just want it back..”

You slightly take a step towards him, hand slowly coming out to pat his back, to show him you mean no harm and you are here for peace, no other problems.

“You want your filthy apple…he’s never once given me an apple. He’s never even let me in the orchard so you tell me..what makes you so special?”

He whispers through a raspy voice. Full on standing up, you swore he had grown in height. Jerking his body back, catching your hand before it can even grace his body.

“What makes you so special huh?! What do you have that I don’t?! You think I want your stupid apple?!”

“I-..I don’t..it’s not..it’s nothin-.”

“I’ve been down here with him since forever! I’ve asked to go multiple times, no invite and here you show up, getting to frolic through the orchard!”

“Please the apple..I just want it back”

You step back now noticing both eyes are pouring with tears. It’s like whiplash with him. He’s a whole different person than he was moments ago. It’s reminding you of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, two sided coin. No longer having the bright smile grace his face. Green and gold tear stains are littered across him, eyes holding so much insecurity, pain, and hurt. Holding out the apple in his hand, locking eye contact with you.

“If I can’t have it…no one can!”

He closes his hand in a tight fist causing the apple to burst. Apple chunks fly everywhere, some smacking your lower legs, other pieces flying towards Shiber who was as still as a statue. That’s when you felt it. The feeling of jealousy pins your body. It comes in palpitations, your heart feels like it’s going to turn sour. Letting out a shriek.

“How could you do this!? You insecure asshole! You couldn’t handle the fact he gave the apple to me and not to you?! But you knew of him prior I had to wander to find him! You had it all laid out for you! Look around you have everything that I want! It’s perfect here!”

Falling on your knees. Throwing your hands over your mouth. Eyes growing in shock you can’t believe you even had said that.

Silence is all you hear.

Before your eyes can rake their way up to look at the two colored eye man…you spot the board with the gold encrusted writing.

Envy.

Eyes growing wide once again.

“Green with envy.”

Your eyes flicker up to his face. He looks down upon you. Like you’re scum, like you are the small thing in this world built up of garbage. Green eye piercing your soul, or what’s left of it. Cause as you know your humanity is slipping right through your fingers, into his hands.

“That’s why your eye turns green, right? I’m sure you’ve heard of that saying before. I’m green with envy.”

Gritting his teeth, jaw tense, his arms are at his side, apple juice dripping off his hands. The waft of envy was rolling off of him. He resented you, even though he looked down at you like you were worthless you still could feel the heat radiating off of him. Watching his eye twitch at you quoting the famous saying is what flooded your ego.

“You sit here tending to your animals all day. Crying about not having an apple. A stupid rotten apple that someone you know gave me. You have nothing but luxury here. I’ve been wandering around for God knows how many days, barely making it, barely surviving. Yet here you are crying to me about what you don’t have. You have everything here! You have the dog! You had my fucking apple that your insecure ass decided to combust, you have I’m sure every animal that was on Noah’s fucking ark here. Yet you are crying about a damn apple!”

Chest heaving from the yelling you just did…sweat beading down the sides of your temples. You brush off your pants, standing up. Not even sparing him a glance, turning around you start to walk towards the entrance you came from.

“You sound so insecure…jealous of what I have…dare to say I’m getting into your head?”

You feel it…You feel the envy snipping at your bones, the insecurity trying to seep into you. Everything you lacked this man had. His looks, this scenery…He had everything yet he was envious of an apple. The emotion now was feeling so strong…Like being in the middle of a tidal wave, your brain and heart were constantly knocking against each other. Biting your lip you keep your mouth shut, continuing to walk. You know he is just trying to provoke you, get into your head, stroke his own ego. You were not going to give him that luxury.

“San! That’s my name sweetheart!”

Deciding to cover your ears with your hands, the more he talked the more you felt the emotion running its course through your veins. Painfully you feel it, trying to remain strong. The feeling now is hollowing itself in your body. Pain surges through the back of your head, the same feeling when Mingi had his hand on the top of your head. It feels like someone is splitting you open from the top down, your knees start to get weak. Legs slowly are giving out. Trying to walk as fast as you can, the edge of the woods is in plain view. Your legs don’t feel like they can carry you much anymore, dropping to your knees, falling into the dirt below.

Gripping the back of your head, the pressure being unbearable. You try to remain on all fours, attempting to crawl your way to the edge of the woods. You feel a weight on your lower back, your whole body knocks to the ground. Wincing as your body makes full contact with the dirt.

“You think you’d turn your back and just walk away from me?”

Removing the foot he had on your back to under your stomach, flipping you over so you are face side up. His smile is huge, something like the Cheshire Cat. Dimples on full display yet one of his eyes is still green. He looks so angelic, yet you’ve seen the act he had just put on so you know it is too good to be true. Squatting down so he can get closer to you. He grabs your face in his hands. The envy feeling in your body spikes. The feeling makes you sick, like you have too puke. He has a pout on his face.

“I know you feel it in your body. I can smell it on you.”

He inhales deeply.

“You think you are above me? You're the bigger person by walking away? Sweetheart…It’s already consumed you.”

Both of his hands grab the front of your shirt pulling you up right. Disgusted by his actions yet your body is so weak you can’t pull away. Your face scrunched. You continue to keep your mouth shut. Trying to put all your focus on trying your best not to feel the jealousy nip at you.

“I must admit tho…you are kinda cute. I like them stubborn. It makes it all the more fun to rile up. Like a ticking time bomb, you blow up. Like a stick of dynamite! You take time to set off but boy oh boy when you do…”

“…I could just spit on you.”

A smile graces his face once again. He’s amused by your comeback. It’s like a game to him, cat and mouse. He’s the predator, you are his prey. His gaze is so intense, your body is in a high panic, you try to remain calm on the outside, inside you are shaking, terrified.

“By all means please do.”

A smirk gazes across his face. Opening his mouth, sticking his tongue out. Like he’s poking fun at you. Mocking you. Gritting your teeth you clamp your mouth shut. His eyes are so cat-like, so intense. He’s so gorgeous, it makes you insecure, sickly upset. Dimpled smile grazing across his face again.

“What? No treat for me? How rude.”

He says while fully standing up from his squatting position. Pulling you fully upright. He stands behind you gripping your shirt, starting to drag you off. You try to shake out of his grip.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing with me?! Let go!”

Trying to muster up all the strength you have left but he’s so strong. He’s pulling you away from the woods. Dirt gathering underneath you.

“You know I can see why Jongho took pity on you. You are very enticing! Like a surprise box, you never know what to get but I see the appeal from you now. He always was one for the kinder hearts. He’s a sick man if I do say so myself.” He silently chuckles to himself. Face still beaming with his dimpled smile.

You stop thrashing trying to get out of his hold. Pity? Pity? How in the hell did Jongho have pity on you? Dealing with Jongho was like its own personal hell.

“He knew you were coming to see me next so he tried to prepare you! Can you believe that?! He’s been down here since before time yet he’s still so faint at heart. You almost got away with it too! Ooo it’s so exciting to say that!”

You can hear the chipper tone in his voice. You can feel true excitement rolling off of him. This man was insane, you were convinced, he was so two sided.

“If that apple hadn’t rolled out your pocket. You would’ve almost overcome me! You were so close. What was it like almost tasting victory? Ah..I’m so jealous! You almost had it too!”

You feel bile crawling up your throat at those words “You were so close.” Nausea starts to swim through you. Resentment fills your heart, that’s all you feel towards San.. You can’t believe that he is now the cause of you failing. You are disgusted with yourself, hurt, let down.

“You know resentment is a feeling of envy! They both go hand in hand.”

Your eyes grow wide, confused if you had spoken your thoughts out loud or if he was a mind reader.

“No, no. I’m no mind reader, don’t you worry about that sweetheart!”

The hairs on your body stand up. Terror fills you, he can read minds. He hears your thoughts. You try to think of anything to get your mind off of what you’ve been thinking. Trying to focus hard on any random object. You try to set your focus on the ground, the dirt, anything. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize he had stopped dragging you. Too afraid to look behind you to see where he had led you. Your hands quiver in fear, sweat is beading down your body, lips raw from biting the skin off of them.

He squats down in front of you, wanting to be eye to eye with you. Wicked grin plastered on his face. One eye is still green while the other is gold. Feeling a soft cool breeze hit your back, your skin is covered with more goosebumps. So many emotions are crawling all over you. Trying to penetrate your skin by the only one that pierces you is fear. The fear of not knowing what’s behind you, the fear of what he’s going to do to you, the fear of not knowing, the fear of it all.

“I hope you can swim.”

“Wait wha-.”

He shoves you with full strength, falling backwards into water, surely he has bruised your skin with the shove. You can swim yet you are sinking it feels like you are anchored down, drowning. Water is filling your lungs, the burning sensation takes over. Your lungs feel like they are on fire. Is this the cost of failing? Dying all over again? Dying a painful death? A painful memorable death?

Life must be making a mockery out of you cause all you can see as you sink deeper into the dark water is Sans face smiling brightly at you while standing on the edge of the water like he’s just won a prize. There it was again that feeling of resentment and envy. This is what feels like to be consumed by such an emotion. Accepting your fate you close your eyes and let the darkness consume you.

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

Authors Note: I’m so sorry it took me a while to post part 3. When I tell you school has been occupying so much of my time. This week is my last week before winter break so I’ll be able to put out part 4 on time! Besides that well…What are our thoughts👀👀? San was interesting to write for. I think I revealed quite a lot in this part. Its kinda revealed in the form of “If you read between the lines well enough you should be able to piece things together.” I can’t wait to hear y’all thoughts on this chapter!

👉👉👉👉👉👉Part 4 👈👈👈👈👈👈

DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY.

[punypcrker]

heard, not seen

Peter and Gwen meet when he bumps into her on their first day in their summer internship at Oscorp only to see (pun intended) that she’s blind!

It didn’t help that he had slept through his alarm. Peter had purposely picked a song he hated to blast at full volume a full two hours before he was due to arrive at his internship. He had no intention of being late or unprofessional in any way at Oscorp, especially not on his first day.

“Shit,” Peter winced when he checked his watch again, as he sprinted up the seven flights of stairs he needed to ascend to make it to the meeting room for the new interns.

After sleeping in, he accidentally spilled coffee all over his pristine dress shirt that he had steamed and ready to go since the night before and had to change into his back-up inferior dress shirt. Then, the bus had a delay that resulted in him running the last couple dozen blocks toward the large skyscraper in the middle of Midtown.

So despite his best efforts, Peter was late. Very very late. Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to make it to the floor. He burst through the stairway door and onto the greater floor, following the signs at a brisk pace now that there were bustling employees and interns of all varying levels of security clearance and seniority all around him. His eyes were flicking from one sign to the next as they guided him toward the meeting room he was expected to be at soon. Even after everything that’s stood in his way that morning, that was what finally sealed his fate.

Peter was practically flying down the hallways, following the arrows on the signs toward the room. Given his luck, it only took two rooms and three turns before he felt his body slam into someone standing and heard them squeak in surprise. He swore under his breath and instinctively grabbed the person by the lapel of their long peacoat to keep them from falling backward onto the floor.

“Oh, my god I’m-“ Peter began to apologize as he finally looked at the person he ran into and saw her captivatingly icy blue eyes and long blonde hair, making his heart race, “So sorry…”

“No, I’m sorry!” The young woman cried out, her face pinched in distress as her free hand toyed with the ends of her hair nervously, “This is my first day and I don’t know if I’m standing in the way yet. I haven’t really gotten the floorplan memorized yet so I’m a little-“

It was then that Peter finally noticed the large Rottweiler dog sniffing at him curiously, the leash attached to its vest clutched in her hand alongside a long white cane, and the clear patch that read ‘GUIDE DOG - DO NOT PET.’ Oh, for the love of Christ. Peter just ran into a pretty blind woman… on his first day.

“No, please,” Peter insisted, his heart now practically sitting on the floor since it’s fallen out his ass, “I wasn’t paying attention, I shouldn’t have been going so fast without looking at where I’m going. I am so so so sorry.”

“How about a truce?” The mystery woman offered with a kind smile, making her curious dog sit beside her obediently, “Let me extend an olive branch. I’m Gwen, I’m one of the new interns.”

“Peter,” He replied, taking her extended hand, “I’m Peter. I’m a new intern too. I was running late so I was rushing. I really am sorry, Gwen. Really…”

“I know, Peter,” Gwen smiled and his mouth went dry, she’s so pretty, “It’s okay, I have an idea.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, his brain screaming at him to check his watch again but he ignored it.

“No one walks up to the blind girl with a big Rottie for a guide dog, so Daisy and I are pretty lost,” She explained, and Peter waved at the dog knowing Gwen can’t see him, “How about you walk with us into the meeting room and we tell them you were helping us get around? If that doesn’t excuse your tardiness, I don’t know what will.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Peter insisted, shaking his head, “No, no, no. I’ll happily help you ladies to the meeting room, but you don’t have to save me. It’s my own fault for being late.”

“It’ll be fine!” Gwen insisted with a breathtaking smile, flipping some hair off her shoulder and folding up her collapsible cane to holster it before holding out a hand, “Just give me your elbow, and let me do the talking once we’re in there! This will work, I’ve done it before.”

“Lots of guys physically run into you because they’re late?” He asked, giving her his elbow.

“No,” She giggled, gripping onto his elbow and following as he guided her and Daisy to the interns meeting room, “I’ve just used my disability to get people out of trouble before. It’s concerningly easy.”

“You shouldn’t exploit yourself for my benefit,” He insisted as he pointedly tried not to stare at her pretty pouty pink and glossy lips considering he had no clue how much of her vision she still had, “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

“You worry too much!” Gwen practically groaned, her hand curling around his bicep as she got a little closer to him when she felt Daisy move in toward her to guide her out of someone’s way, “You gotta learn to live a little, Peter.”

“You might be right,” Peter chuckled nervously, “I’m just trying not to mess this opportunity up.”

“With me or the internship?” She asked with a smirk and a wicked look in her eyes, which were so pale they were nearly white, “Because I have no idea what you look like so the ball is totally in your court.”

“Oh,” He choked, almost stopping dead in his tracks before remembering that he was guiding her and her dog, “No, I mean. You’re very beautiful, I-I mean. Of course, I think you're super pretty but not in, like, a creepy way. But I meant-“

“I’m just playing with you, Pete,” Gwen giggled and Peter’s heart continued to pound in his chest, “I know what you meant. But I also meant what I said.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a furrowed brow as they approached the door marked for their internship meeting. All he could do was pray she didn’t hear how nervous she made him. Especially when she didn’t let go of his elbow and looked at him with a sweet smile.

“Ball’s in your court,” She replied as she grabbed and unfolded her cane, her wrist flicking expertly to feel around the immediate area, “You seem sweet. And you sound cute. So, yeah, the blind girl is shooting her shot but in a backwards kind of way by encouraging you to shoot yours.”

“Well, then, I definitely have to shoot mine,” Peter blew out a breath, “You’re very inspirational.”

“If I only had a nickel…” She shook her head, making him chuckle earnestly, “Shoot it later, though. We’re already late enough, I suppose.”

“I suppose you’re right,” He nodded, reaching for the knob.

“You’ll have to get used to that, I often am,” She told him cheekily, “Otherwise, you have no chance.”

“Oh, I am very used to being wrong,” Peter admitted, “I’m even more used to ladies being right. Especially the pretty ones.”

“I said later,” Gwen playfully scolded, trying to play off the blush burning on her cheeks, “Don’t get me all flustered on the first day.”

“But it’s cute,” He smiled, “I like playing with you too. You’re very cute.”

“Stop,” She drew out with a pout, the blush burning bright pink and pulling more chuckles from him as she tried covering her face with her free hand.

“I’m not shooting my shot,” He defended with a smirk, “I’m just telling the truth. You didn’t see the look on my face when I saw you for the first time, you’re quite literally stunning.”

“You’ll have to get used to that too,” She reminded him with a small smile, almost sad, “I can hardly see shadows. I definitely can’t see your face.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Peter said nonchalantly with a half shrug, “I happen to have a great vocabulary and can describe things in great detail.”

”Then maybe you do have a fighting chance,” Gwen chuckled shyly, her eyes returning to her guide dog, “Plus, Daisy seems to tolerate you enough. That’s definitely a good sign.”

”That’s a relief,” He chuckled in return, finally opening the door and gesturing with his free hand, “Ladies first.”

”Thank you, sir,” She said with a single nod, her cane skimming the floor in front of her as she took each step with Daisy dutifully keeping her from running into anything.

Peter followed quickly behind to catch up, walking with her on the opposite side of Daisy toward the large crowd of interns gathered in the center of the room. He wasn’t wasting this opportunity. Not with her.

[tomegnome]

2023 Book log: Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett

Monstrous Regiment satirizes themes of gender, war, and religion in the fantastical setting of Terry Pratchett's wonderfully irreverent Discworld. Barmaid Polly Perks lives in the charmless and highly conservative country of Borogravia. Seeking her lost soldier brother, Polly disguises as a "Oliver" and enlists alongside a cast of colorful characters including teenage runaways, a vampire, and a troll...who all have secrets of their own. Wink wink. Hijinks and gender fuckery ensue!

🍄Ratings based on the five core gnomish literary values🍄

Characters - 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻 Camp - 🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷 Queerness - 🌼🌼🌼 Style - 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻 Feeling - 🌷🌷🌷🌷

I read this book 10ish years ago and remembered it being an absolute delight, and golly, it really held up. If you haven't read Terry Pratchett before you can totally jump in with Monstrous Regiment since it stands perfectly fine on its own weird little legs (btw anyone who tells you to read discworld chronologically is a teacher's pet and not to be trusted).

I have dog-eared the ever loving shit out of this poor little paperback. First of all this book is so funny, laugh out loud funny. But also has these poignant, beautiful little moments. It gets surprisingly dark in places, but in a way that feels necessary and is really in service to fleshing out the characters. It really grounds the book in the midst of all this absurdity and gives it this real life human quality.

Many writers write characters and then, quite separately, female characters. Pratchett just wrote interesting characters. He saw humans as flawed and weak, but also brave and hopeful and that shows in the way he writes these really silly, lovely characters.

Paul, Polly's brother, is BARELY in the book. He speaks maybe once. But through Polly telling you these little memories about him you become really come to adore him and by extension, learn about and appreciate Polly even more. And the books doesn't even need it! Paul could've just been a call to action, but instead he has his own little arc. Someone please talk to me about Paul and his birds.

And Jackrum. And Maladict. And Lofty and Tonker. Any of them really. Because my heart is so full of love for these characters.

Which is why this book works when there are more contemporary novels exploring gender much more seriously and doing a worse job, imo. I am probably biased, but ultimately it felt to me like this book was saying: Oh gender? What a funny little notion. What a silly little human invention. Grab onto it with your grubby gnome paws and do with it what you wish.

For more information and detailed content warnings I highly recommend thestorygraph.

🍄Sample passage - may be light spoilers🍄______________________________________________________________

"Bloody Jackrum left me surrounded by armed men!" Polly hissed.

"And?"

"Well, I… knocked two of them out," she said, feeling as she said it that this rather spoilt her case as a victim. "One went over the road, though."

"I think we got that one," said Maladict. "Well, I say 'got'… Tonker nearly gutted him. There's a girl with what I'd call unresolved issues." He turned round. "Let's see… seven horses, seven men. Yep."

"Tonker?" said Polly.

"Oh, yes. Hadn't you spotted her? She went mad when the man charged at Lofty. Now, let's have a look at your gentlemen, shall we?" said Maladict, heading for the inn door.

"But Lofty and Tonker…" Polly began, running to keep up. "I mean, the way they act, they… I thought she was his girl… but I thought Tonker… I mean, I know Lofty is a gi - "

Even in the dark, Maladict's teeth gleamed as he smiled. "The world's certainly unfolding itself for you, eh? Ozzer? Every day, something new. Cross-dressing now, I see."

"What?"

"You are wearing a petticoat, Ozzer," said Maladict, stepping into the bar. Polly looked down guiltily and started to tug it off, and then thought: hang on a moment...

"The captain looks bad," he said. "What did he try to do to poor little you?"

"Patronize me," said Polly, glaring at Maladict.

"Ah," said the vampire.

[messers-moony]

My Everything | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.

Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister

A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)

Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 

The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 

Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 

The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 

So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 

James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 

Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 

Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 

During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 

“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 

“Aguamenti.” 

The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 

“You’ll pay for that.”

Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”

They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 

“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”

“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”

Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 

“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 

Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”

“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 

“Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”

“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”

James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”

From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 

In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 

Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 

“Rem. Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 

“What’s wrong, Rem?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 

She sighed, “Remus, please.”

“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 

“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”

He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”

“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”

Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.” 

He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 

One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 

It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 

“Very fitting, Sirius.”

Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 

“Matching animagus’, eh?”

Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”

Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”

“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 

“‘Course!”

“Yep!”

“Can’t wait.”

That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“How long?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”

“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”

“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”

Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”

Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”

“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”

“So why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”

“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”

“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 

“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”

Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”

Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”

“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”

“That’s why I need you!” 

Remus just smirked triumphantly. 

“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”

“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”

The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 

Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 

Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 

Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 

Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 

It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 

So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 

Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 

“Rem!” 

Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”

It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 

The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 

The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 

Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 

A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 

When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 

Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 

“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.

“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”

Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”

Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”

Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”

Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”

Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 

“Sirius, this is-“

“Perseus, I know.” 

Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”

“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”

“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”

“Okay.”

Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”

“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”

Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”

Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 

“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”

Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”

“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”

“N- No, sir.”

“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”

“B- But he-“

“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”

Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 

Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”

“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”

Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”

It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”

“What if- what if he leaves again?”

“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”

Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 

When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”

[percervall]

Going for walks in the woods

Player: Kostas Tsimikas Words: 1330 Requested: no, but dedicated to @kostasstsimikass for writing A+ Kos fanfics (and to celebrate two wins in a row, who would've thought that would happen based on our performance so far? Not me 😅) Warnings: None, pure fluff A/N: This idea wouldn't leave me alone when I read the prompt. Please let me know what you think 🧡

Autumn masterlist

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

He pulled his scarf tighter around his face. It was a lovely autumn morning; the air was crisp and a fog danced low over the ground. The still rising sun cast long shadows over the trails leading deeper into the woods. Kostas was still getting used to the cold. He had managed when he lived in the Netherlands, and he was sure he’d get used to it in Liverpool as well. He turned his face up when a ray of sun filtered through the canopy of the trees, taking a deep breath. A smile tugged on his lips as he felt the warmth on his cheeks. It was still early, there were hardly any people on the trails this morning so he took his time soaking up the sun. His two dogs were waiting for their owner to continue walking, one more patiently than the other. Before it really registered, Kostas felt Fuerte tug on the leash, pulling it out of his hand. Kostas tried to get a better grip, but Fuerte had already run off. The Liverpool defender let out a string of curses. He called after his dog, picking up the pace with Maui.

She was enjoying the silence of the woods. Normally, she didn’t have time to go on a run before work but today was her day off. She looked at her watch to check her heart rate and distance, but looked up when she heard barking. The dog was running straight towards her, tongue hanging out. He seemed to be enjoying himself, letting out another bark before jumping up against her. She let out a laugh, not moving quick enough. She lost her balance and fell on her bum, letting out a shriek as she went down. The dog was quick to come lick her face.

“Hey bud, okay, alright. Thank you for the kisses,” she cooed, moving to sit up and pulling the dog away from her face. She scratched him behind the ears as she looked for a tag on his collar. The dog plopped on his hind legs, letting her pet him.

“Where’s your owner, bud? Hmm? What are you doing all by yourself?” she murmured, still petting the dog. They both looked up when they heard someone calling out. The dog barked once, but made no attempt to leave.

“That your owner, bud?” she asked him, getting a lick in return making her laugh once more. 

“I am so sorry!” Kostas said when he spotted Fuerte licking a stranger’s face, “Fuerte, come here boy!” 

Fuerte looked at him, tilting his head, but made no attempt to listen. Instead he planted his front paws on the woman’s thighs, giving her another lick. The woman let out a laugh, scratching him behind the ears. She pushed the dog off her lap and rose from the ground.

“Here,” she said, handing him the leash, “I think this belongs to you?” Her eyes twinkled with the laughter still evident in her voice. Kostas muttered a thank you, taking in the mud on her olive green running leggings.

“I’m sorry for ruining your clothes. He normally behaves very well,” Kostas apologised. The woman shrugged, looking at her leggings as if to assess the damage. “That’s what they invented washing machines for.” She threw him a smile when she looked back up. Kostas was struck by her beauty; her coppery blond hair was pulled up in a ponytail, she had a gorgeous smile that reached her hazel brown eyes. The sunlight filtering through the trees highlighted a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Kostas was aware that he was staring. He cleared his throat, looking away from her to his two dogs. 

“Let me- can I make it up to you? Can I buy you a coffee? Or- or tea?” he rambled. She chuckled, pulling the sleeves of her top over her hands.

“I’ll never say no to tea. There’s a café near the car park which also has a to go window. I was heading that direction anyway,” she said, pointing behind Kostas. 

“So, how long have you been in England?” she asked, breaking the initial silence on their walk back to the car park.

“Since August. I moved here for work. My dogs came over last month,” he answered. 

“What do you do for work, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Ah, I’m a footballer. For Liverpool. You’re not an Everton fan, are you?” he replied jokingly.

She chuckled. “No, I’m from London originally, don’t worry. If anything, I’m a Gunner.” 

“As my teammate would say, at least not a Manc,” Kostas grinned, causing her to laugh. 

They reached the café and Kostas ordered them both a hot drink. She directed them to an empty bench and they sat down. Fuerte and Maui laid down at Kostas’s feet, more than happy to stay there for a bit. 

“So,” Kostas said, breaking the silence, “do you often go to the woods?” She nodded and took another sip.

“I try to go for a run every day after work. Helps clear the cobwebs after a day stuck behind a screen.” They were quiet for a moment. Kostas fidgeted with the carton sleeve of his to go mug, wanting to ask her for at least her number, but not knowing how without seeming like a total creep. She took her final sip, throwing the empty cup in the bin as she got up.

“Thanks for the tea Kostas. And thank you for the kisses Fuerte,” she said, crouching down to give both dogs a final head scratch. 

“You’re welcome. See you around maybe?” Kostas said. She smiled at him and nodded.

“I hope so.” And off she went, leaving Kostas behind with his thoughts. Fuerte looked at him, head slightly tilted as if to say really? After all I did for you? 

“I know, I know…” he muttered, rising to stand as well. “Come one, let’s go home.” 

+

“For fuck’s sake, not again,” Kostas groaned when Fuerte tugged his leash loose again. He normally prided himself on how well-behaved his dogs were, but Fuerte had figured out to strike when he was distracted –which he was seeing as he had been deep in thought, mind on the games coming up. Fuerte let out a happy bark and ran off. Kostas was quick to follow him, breaking out into a jog, pulling Maui along with him. He was a defender for crying out loud; he should be able to catch his dog, but Fuerte had other ideas. Kostas heard the person finding his dog before he could see them. Hearing them laugh set off butterflies in his stomach. 

“Did you run off again Fuerte? Maybe we need to talk to Kos and see if we can go running together, hm?” she whispered to the dog, petting his head. She chuckled when Fuerte licked her cheek in agreement.

“Sorry, I swear I trained him better than this,” Kostas said, rubbing his neck. She looked up, meeting his eyes and smiled at him. 

“It’s okay. Fuerte and I are best buds, aren’t we?” she cooed. Fuerte let out a bark in reply. 

Kostas laughed at that. After Fuerte’s first run in with her, they’d met up a couple of times to walk his dogs together which evolved into them falling head over heels for each other. She had moved into his apartment last week and their one year anniversary was coming up next month. 

“How was your run?” he asked her, taking her hand in his as they walked to the car park. Fuerte had decided that she was the only one to hold his leash, so they each had a dog.

“It was good. Love this time of year,” she replied with a smile, squeezing his hand.

“Mm, me too. Love you more though,” Kostas said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She chuckled, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. 

[otp-holic]

Just so we can outwit time (A03)

Instagram brings another piece of their past into their present.

1K. Remember this from Stucky Week? I did some manips for that and I promised it had a happy ending. Today, with all the thoughts about tiny Steve, a plot bunny assaulted me and I remembered I never got to actually post the manips that were inside that suitcase, so here is one. The others might pop up at some point, too. Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

Photo-booth Picture, Brooklyn Heights 1937 (dated on the back) Private Collection.

“Can you grab my phone now that you are up, please? I left it over the kitchen counter.” Bucky asks when Steve pauses the movie they are watching to get up from the couch to grab a glass of water.

“I don’t know if your dependence on that thing is something to celebrate or to be worried about in your adjustment to this century.” Steve chuckles walking back to his spot on the couch beside Bucky, the phone’s screen lighting up in his hands with a notification. “You might wanna check the Instagram message you just got from the Brooklyn Historical Society! I bet you are getting sued for liking too many posts.”

“You little sh…” Bucky starts talking, grabbing the phone from his hands but not finishing the sentence, too focused on the tiny screen while reading in silence.“Steve, dear, I think you should read this.”

Bucky hands him the phone, and he would be worried about that sentence combined with the pet-name so soon after almost being insulted, but Bucky’s face is relaxed and he’s smiling, so he guesses I can’t be that bad.

“Before you start reading, tho, please remember whose idea it was.”

“Whose idea was what?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, just smirks and gets closer to him. Steve looks at the message.

Dear Mr Barnes: Please excuse this message, but since you support and follow us here, we hope it won’t be much of an intrusion and even good news.

A couple of days ago, a woman named Olive Morgan sent us the picture that follows this message hoping that we could contact you somehow, given that you follow us on Instagram.

She firmly believes that the picture belongs to you and Captain Rogers and, after double-checking it ourselves, we agree with her conclusion.

She says it was inside a suitcase in her parents’ attic (her late grandfather used to travel around the flea-market circuit with a vintage pictures’ stall back in the 60s) with the initials “SGR” that is apparently filled with pictures.

Can you confirm if this is, in fact, yours? We could send you her contact information for further information or clarifications because she told us she would like nothing more than to return all your presumed belongings to you both. She was also very insistent about letting you know she has kept this private even from her own family, just in case it might bother you. Please find the picture attached and let us know how to proceed. Best regards.

Steve remembers that brown suitcase Bucky bought him as a present (and a promise) for his twentieth birthday, remembers rushedly collecting and locking their most precious things inside before going on the USO tour, remembers thinking about it and the rest of their belongings when he was sent to war. Remember longing for it when he lost Bucky for the first time.

He remembers missing it like any of the other big lost pieces of his life when he came back from the ice: not even keepsakes to touch and ground him in. Not beyond Bucky looking at him from his compass.

And then he sees the picture after the message and yes, he remembers that too.

“Well, you were not wrong: that picture was my idea,” he laughs and he snuggles against his partner, full-on leaning on Bucky who welcomes him by moving his vibranium arm over Steve’s head to pull him even closer, both of them looking at the screen now in silent remembrance for a few seconds. “I know I pushed you into that booth instead of into the hot dog stand, and…”

“And I went hungry all day, don’t sugar coat it.” Bucky cuts in. “I think people in Jersey heard the sounds of my poor stomach. Damn my inability to say no to you, Rogers.”

Steve laughs louder now, but Bucky is not lying. He had seen “Four-minutes picture booths” popping up all over the city for years and people going crazy over them, but he had never had any reason to invest the scarce money he had in taking a picture of him. Not until he unintentionally listened to two of his neighbour's teenage daughters giggling over a picture strip while whispering about forbidden kisses, necking, and a love that would last forever.

“I’ll have you know that it was planned, too. You might have thought we were on a non-date to get our bellies full and our good suits stained with mayo, but the truth is I just wanted to kiss you in front of a camera,” he confesses.

“You kinky punk,” Bucky smiles and kisses him on his temple. “But… well, you know how they always say ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer’?”

Bucky pauses and the look he throws his way goes straight to his gut ( “Your thankfully required teenage crush on your best friend is still going strong, Rogers” , he says to himself).

“That hot dog was probably delicious, but with your current massive weight crushing my ribs right now, it’s better to have a reminder of how small you used to be,” Bucky tells him. “Small, beautiful, strong, and stupidly stubborn. Those last ones are still the same, in case you are curious.”

“And you look just the same,” Steve blurts out. “Minus the poor-boy hat. I despised that thing.”

“You are delirious, Steve, and not just because of your irrational hate on my very nice hat. In case you haven’t noticed I’m lacking one arm, I have tiny wrinkles around my eyes, and my baggage is up to a million pounds…”

“You still look at me the same way, Buck. You were the only one who saw me back then, but I was lucky because you were the only one who mattered.”

That undeniable truth shuts him up for a full minute: Steve feels it every day, and seeing it on that picture is just a nice reminder.

“You win, sap,” Bucky jokes, getting himself together. “Will you kiss me now or do you need cameras pointing at you to feel something? Because that can be easily arranged in these joyful times we are living.”

He kisses Bucky lazily on their couch. Movie forgotten, water forgotten. Just them and the promise of a suitcase full of little pieces of themselves shining like a beacon on the back of his mind.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

Tag list 🏷

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​ @foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​  @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​  @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @babeyspidey​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @lou-la-lou​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind​ @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​ @maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterspideysstuff​ @reemusluupin​ @perspectiveparker @itstaskeen​ @itsemohours​

[mysticalrambling]

Adorable Addition(Part 2)

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fan Fiction Masterlist)

(Part 1)

Warnings: None. Fluff all the way.

Summary: dad!Chris Evans x reader. Chris and you decide to adopt a dog when you see your son with Scott's dog. It is a cute family day and you all enjoy it to the fullest.

._._._._._.

“Can you please take out Dodger for his morning walk? I will handle the children.” Coming up behind your husband, you started to gently massage his shoulders.

“Are you sure you can handle both of them?” He moaned when you starting to untangle all the tight knots in his back.

“Yes, I am. Just let me distract Oliver first because he will throw a fit if you did not take him with.” Your elder son has been more than clingy towards Chris from the moment the baby has arrived. Getting jealous of even you when you kiss or cuddle with your husband. He is the only one allowed to be with his daddy and now he won’t even let Chris pet Dodger. It was adorable at first but now it is slowly becoming a nuisance.

“If you don’t mind, I will take Ollie with me to the park because we haven’t spent much time together.” Laughing at your husband’s puppy dog eyes, you are reminded that he was just as obsessed with his little prince as well. You wanted to remind him that from the moment he has come back from his set in Los Angeles, he has spent most of his time with Oliver.

“I don’t mind and I will get him ready.” The new found habit that your son had developed was to wear something related to Captain America, whether it is a shirt or a hat. Today, he decided upon Captain America sneakers and you did not even have the energy to lecture him about his stubbornness.

“Ready to go, bubba?” Holding an overjoyed dog with his leash, Chris extended his hands towards his firstborn.

"Can we get ice cream on the way?"

"Yes, you can." "No." You both spoke out at the same time and then turned to stare at each other. Sometimes, your husband acted like a three and a half year old child instead of your actual son. He knew that Ollie always gets stomach ache after eating sweets and he still fulfills all his wishes.

"Chris, you know what happens afterwards." It was like trying to reason with a wall when he passed you one of his cheeky smile.

The moment you were about to argue with him, you heard a cry from the baby monitor, signaling your little princess was up. Emma was truly a blessing in disguise because she was a very calm baby as compared to your son. It was such a smooth pregnancy that you both were sometimes worried that something might have been wrong with the baby. From the moment she was born, your world changed a lot but in a good way. She hardly cried and the best thing about her was that she was really attached to you.

"Looks like our princess is up. You better go to her because she won't come to me quietly." Jealousy flashed through Chris's blue eyes because he always thought that your daughter would be a daddy's girl from the very start. But boy, was he wrong. He found that out from day one when she did not stop crying until she was back in your arms.

"Don't be jealous, baby. Now go to the park and remember no ice cream."

"Of course, darling." He quickly strapped Oliver in to his stroller and pulled the shades down. Chris was still not okay with the paparazzi taking his family's pictures and he did everything to avoid that. The moment they stepped out of the house, you ran towards your baby's nursery room. She was fussing now and you knew she wanted to be fed so you got to the task.

"Daddy, why didn't we take baby sister with us?" questioning Chris through the shield, he played with his Captain America teddy bear.

"She is too young right now to play with you but Dodger and I are here so you will have a lot fun."

"Daddy, pick me up, please."

"No, bubba. You just play with your toys till we arrive to the park."

"Please, Daddy. Now! Now!" He started to repeat the words over and over again. Chris tried to quiet him down by giving him his pacifier and more toys but nothing seemed to work.

"Be quiet, Oliver." Chris ran out of patience and snapped at his son. However, regret and guilt washed over him soon afterwards when he saw Oliver's chin wobble and tears pooling in his eyes. The little boy knew that when his dad called him by name then he was really mad.

"Sorry," whispering slowly from the stroller, he started to play with his stuffed toy.

"I am sorry, baby." Quickly putting together the baby sling on his upper body, he slid Oliver in to it and used both his arms to hold on to the stroller and the leash. "Happy, little guy?"

"Yes!" Oliver laid his head on his father's chest and gently sucked on his teddy bear pacifier. Chris ignored the paparazzi that was trailing behind them because his son was his top most priority right now.

The moment they arrived at the park, Oliver tried to wiggle out of the carrier and Chris quickly undid the straps. Dodger and Oliver have been inseparable from the moment they met each other. The kid got jealous when his Dodgie started to pay attention to the new born baby. He did not want to share Chris's or Dodger's attention with anyone and that is the reason why he took so long to get accustomed to his baby sister.

"Enjoy, baby." Chris made sure that Oliver did not leave his sight and did not mingle with any strangers. He made it clear to his fans that he wanted some privacy with his family. This was a private moment and his fans respected that. Chris was truly glad to have a following that were not toxic. "Let's go get some ice cream now."

He called out after he saw that his son was all sweaty and worked up after all the chasing around and playing on the swings. Your son immediately dropped the frisbee and skipped over to you with Dodger hot on his tail. Getting a chocolate ice cream, he wanted to be picked by his father again. Chris knew that his shirt would get dirty but his family was worth it.

“Honey, we are home.” Tiny pitter patter outside your room alerted you of your son running towards your room. Chris followed suit with a stained shirt. You just shook your head at him and mentally checked if there was still some Tylenol in your medicine cabinet.

As soon as he came out of the closet with a new shirt on, he plopped on the side of your now awake daughter. She was dressed in a baby pink polka dot dress with a matching headband and a pink pacifier. Making grabby hands towards Chris, she gave him a smile that showcased her two new front teeth. He was over the moon and immediately cuddled with his babygirl.

“I am going downstairs to make some dinner. Ollie, you want to help?” This was your bonding time with your baby boy where he tells you about his day and all of his feelings regarding the events. He told you all about his day today and how he made Chris mad. You gently explained to him that stubbornness was not a good trait and parents sometimes get angry. But that doesn’t mean that you guys hated him. “Dinner is ready, Chris. Come downstairs.”

“I want to sit with daddy too.” Both the kids were perched on his lap as you fed them both dinner. Chris stole a few bites in between and you laughed when Emma smudged her dirty hands on Oliver’s cheeks. Dodger sauntered in the dining room and went straight towards his eating bowl. This was your family and you cherished every moment you spent with them. The adorable additions to the family have been a blessing and you plan on cherishing them forever.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._._._.

A/N: This is just some family dribble that I wrote related to Chris Evans. I just love the idea of dad Chris. Send me some ideas related to Chris as a family man and I will be happy to write about it.

P.S. Thank you for motivating me to write a part 2. Tell me if you want another one.

Like, comment and reblog.

Taglist: @maximeevansblog, @justile

._._._._._._.

[onlyfreds]

My Heart is Yours | F.W.

Title: My Heart is Yours

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: For Valentine’s Day, Fred Weasley (with the help of half the Gryffindors) plans an over the top (but sweet) way to ask his best friend, Y/N L/N, to be his.

A/N: The title was given by @freddie1978

Fred’s POV

Today was the day, the day we have planned a whole week for. The day wherein I have asked the help of half the Gryffindors. The day I would ask my best friend, Y/N L/N to be my girlfriend.

All of us involved got up very early, to go through the entire plan before Y/N woke up.

“So, does that make everything clear?” I asked the group, all agreed.

Everyone then went on to do their respective tasks.

I sighed, sitting down as I placed my head in my hands.

“Hey.” George said, sitting beside me, “What’s the matter with you?” He asked, “You should be getting ready.”

I looked at him, “Who am I kidding George? She’ll obviously reject me.” I said, slumping back in my seat.

George had a worried look on his face, “Don’t tell me you’re backing out this now.”

I gulped, “I-I don’t know Georgie, what if I can’t do this after all.”

“You can do. Everything will go according to plan and she will say ‘yes’.” George said.

Ginny then appeared in front of us, “Nerves?” She asked, turning to my twin.

He nodded, “Yep.”

Ginny handed me a goblet, “Here, drink this.”

I looked at her skeptically, “What’s in this?”

She smiled, “Just plain old pumpkin juice with a drop or two of Felix Felicis.”

My eyes widened, “As in liquid luck?”

She nodded, “Yeah, figured you needed it.”

I immediately drank it, feeling a surge of confidence flow through my veins.

I turned to my twin, a huge smile making its way towards my lips, “Let’s get this party started.”

Reader’s POV

I woke up and went through my daily routine. Since I was a bit chilly, I threw on the nearest sweater I could get my hands on. I headed down to the common room, but strangely, it seemed like half of the Gryffindors where missing.

So, I decided to head down to the Great Hall, thinking that they were already having breakfast, considering what time it was.

When I arrived, only Ginny and Angelina were there.

I sat down in front of them, helping myself to some toast, “Where are the others?” I asked.

They shrugged, “Hermione, Ron and Harry are most probably in the library.” Ginny said.

I chuckled, “This early? Hermione is working the poor boys too much.”

“How about the twins and Lee?” I asked.

Angelina shrugged, “We haven’t seen them yet.”

“Why? You miss Freddie?” Ginny asked, nodding to the sweater I was wearing.

I gave her a confused look before looking down at the sweater, blushing as I saw the big F that was on the middle.

“Oh, come on.” Angelina teased as she saw me turn red, “Don’t even bother to deny it. We all know you like Fred.”

I blushed as red as Ginny’s hair, “Shh!” I shushed Angelina, who was now laughing along with Ginny.

After breakfast, I stood up, “I’m going to go find those three idiots.” I said, “Wanna come with?”

They both shook their head, “We’re going to play some Quidditch.” Ginny said, a mischievous glint present in her eyes.

“Okay then.” I said, heading to the library, in hopes that the Golden Trio would know the whereabouts of my best friends.

I almost ran into the three as they bolted out of the library, “Woah, woah. Slow down you three.”

They stopped in their tracks. “Oh, sorry Y/N.” Hermione apologized.

“Where are you three going in such a hurry?” I joked, “Are you in trouble again?”

Harry gave a small laugh, “Not today Y/N. Not today.”

Ron chuckled, “Besides, if there’s any one who is always in trouble, that would be my brothers.”

“Speaking of your brothers,” I said, suddenly remembering why I came to them in the first place, “Have you seen the twins? I have seen any sign of them today.”

The three of them exchange a look I couldn’t exactly read.

“We haven’t seen them since this morning.” Hermione said.

Harry took out something from his pocket, “But Fred did tell me to give this to you.” He said, handing me a rose that had a small note attached to it. Happy Valentines Day Princess! – Your favorite Weasley, Fred

I smiled, staring at the note at little bit longer, “I completely forgot that it was Valentine’s day today.”

The trio smiled before heading off. “Got to go Y/N!” Ron said.

“Good luck on looking for them!” Hermione said with a small wink.

I walked through the corridors, holding on to the rose dearly. And that was before I bumped into the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood,

“Oh, hey Ollie!” I greeted as he smiled, “Have you by any chance seen the twins and Lee?”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, “I saw them this morning, I think they were running away from Snape. But aside from then, I haven’t.”

I thanked him but before I could head off, Oliver stopped me.

“But.” He started, “Fred did want me to give something to you.”

I looked at him, slightly confused, “Really?”

He nodded, taking out a chocolate box in the shape of a heart and handed it to me.

There was another note attached to it, Hey Beautiful! Hope you enjoy the chocolates. But believe me when I say that they’re nowhere as sweet as you. - Freddie

I felt another blush rise up to my cheeks, “Thanks Ollie!” I said as I ran off.

“I have a feeling you’ll love what Fred has in store for you.” Oliver called after me, shooting me a small smile.

I arrived at the seventh-floor corridor, just near the Room of Requirement. I saw George and Lee coming from the corner.

“Where have you two been?” I asked as I ran towards them, “I have been looking for you guys all morning!”

They gave identical smiles, “Nowhere in particular.”

George then gave a cheeky smile as he nodded to the sweater I was wearing, “Cold?”

“Oh, sod off!” I playfully scolded him, trying to hide the small smile that was growing on my lips.

“So, where is he?” I asked, looking around thinking that he’ll just jump out and scare me.

Lee smiled, “Well, about that Y/N. Freddie has asked us to give something to you.”

I giggled, “Again?” I asked, “What’s with him and having all these random gifts show up everywhere?”

Lee handed a little teddy bear that was sporting a scarlet and gold sweater and it also had a small locket on.

I gasped, “Oh my Merlin. This is so cute.”

I flipped open the locket and saw a little picture of Fred and I during our fourth year, we were both laughing like crazy after our prank on George and Lee had been successful.

“Can you two please tell me where in the world is Fred?” I pleaded, giving George and Lee my best puppy-dog eyes.

George chuckled, “Check the note.”

I opened up the note that was attached, Dear Y/N, you must be wondering why I’m giving you all these presents. Meet me at the Courtyard and you’ll find out. – Freddie ;)”

After giving George and Lee a quick “thank you” I was already dashing off to the courtyard.

When I arrived, I was Fred was there, with his back turned to me.

I approached him slowly, “You wanted to see me?”

He turned to look at me, a huge grin on his face, “Like my presents sweetheart?”

I smiled, the pet name making me weak in the knees, continuing to walk towards him.

“So, what’s with the gifts?” I asked, looking up into his gorgeous brown eyes.

“Well, it is Valentines day. And I thought that this year, we should do something different.” He said.

That’s because it was our tradition every year on Valentines the two of us would go on a “date as friends”.

“And I’m guessing that you have another surprise up your sleeve.” I said.

He smiled, taking my hand and pulling me closer to him, “Right as always sweetheart.”

As if on cue, fireworks started erupting, painting the sky with bright colors.

Later on, the fireworks then started to form the words, Be Mine?

I then turned to Fred, to see him kneeling on one on the ground, a small red box open in his hand and a ring can be seen inside.

“Y/N.” Fred started, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “I have known you ever since we sat at the same compartment on the train in first year. Ever since, I have continued to fall in love with you every single day. You are simply irresistible. You are so beautiful, so amazing, so brilliant, so smart. I want to be able to love you openly, I want to be able to cuddle with you in the common room. I want to kiss you; I want you to be mine. So, will you be my girlfriend?”

I nodded, tears starting to well up in my eyes. “Yes.”

He smiled slipping the ring on my finger, it had the words His Queen engraved on it.

He then held up his right hand, showing me a similar ring on his finger with the Her King engraved on it.

I smiled, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt and crashing our lips together. His hands went to the small of my back and pulled me closer to him.

The kiss was messy, but it was passionate. All the pent-up feelings that were kept over the years were poured into that kiss.

We pulled away, breathless, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.

Then I whispered, “My heart is yours.”

We heard cheers as our friends celebrated from the sides.

I giggled and raised my hand with the ring on it.

Ginny ran forward and engulfed me in a hug.

“Fred.” She timidly said, “I may or may not have lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” He asked.

His sister smiled, “There was no Felix Felicis in your drink earlier. It was just plain pumpkin juice.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

@lumosandnoxwriting​​  @wand3ringr0s3​​ @famdomhideout @nova-darling​​  @gaycatlord-stuff ​ @pandaxnienke​​ @escapingrealitybyreading (If your name is crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

[rocorambles]

Puppy Toy

Last April Fool’s fic and of course this is for the very lovely @iwaasfairy

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Mistress!Reader x Puppy!Iwaizumi, Pet Play, Cock Stepping, Feet Licking, Bondage, Cum Play, Sex Toys 

A/N: Of course I needed to use some elements of pet play and puppy dynamics for our resident puppy girl Fairy~ Too bad it’s probably not in a way Fairy ever wanted it used in the context of Iwaizumi LMAO 

You perk up as the front door of your shared apartment opens, warmly smiling as the muscular figure of your boyfriend rushes towards you, laying his spiky head in your lap and burying his face in your stomach as he wraps his strong arms around you. Giggling, you stroke his head, wondering what all the girls who fawn over him at the gym would think of their sexy trainer acting like a shy little boy. 

“Hi, baby. Long day?”

Iwaizumi pulls away just enough to pout cutely up at you, emphatically nodding his head before nuzzling into your stomach once more, making little pleased sounds as you continue to play with his hair. 

“You’ve helped people all day. Why don’t you let Mistress take care of you now? Sounds good?”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Iwaizumi is tumbling out of your lap, scrambling to remove his clothes and reposition himself until he’s naked and kneeling between your seated legs, hands obediently clasped behind his back, posture straight and eyes submissively cast down towards the ground underneath you. 

Chuckling at how enthusiastic your little pet is, you bring one foot to his already half-erect cock, carefully but firmly stepping on the pathetically leaking thing and smirking at how Iwaizumi’s breath hitches, rapidly growing underneath the sole of your foot until he’s at full length, cock hard and throbbing. You know he’s close, right on the edge of an orgasm, but the night has barely started and you lift your foot off of his shaft, bringing it to a drooling mouth and smiling fondly as he obediently laps you clean of his mess before wiping his saliva off on his chest, purposefully swiping against his pebbled nipples. 

“Go prepare yourself. I expect you fully ready by the time I join you in the bedroom.”

You watch in amusement as Iwaizumi bounds away from you, not bothering to even stand on two legs as he scampers away on all fours and when he’s out of sight, you finally stretch your own legs and waltz over to the chest of toys you’ve accumulated over the years, taking your time to ponder and select an array of items before making your way in the same direction as your lover. 

Iwaizumi’s barely recognizable, the black leather dog shaped bondage hood he wears hiding every aspect of his face other than his beautiful green eyes, but you affectionately coo at the baby blue satin and white lace collar he wears around his neck, the pretty chiming bell reminding you what a helpless pup he really is despite his muscular frame.

“Present for me.” 

There isn’t a bit of hesitation as he turns around, perky ass high in the air, his toned back arched down as he rests his upper body on the ground, the fluffy tail plug in plain sight. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of how sensitive your little pet is, wildly shaking his hips as you play with the plug inside of him, his cock dripping pre-cum everywhere as it swings with every slap on his rump. It’s pathetic really, how you’ve barely done anything yet this strong man is barking, literally barking and howling, crying and begging Mistress for more, to cum.  

Well if he wants to cum, he’ll cum. 

He realizes the mistake he’s made when you growl at him to kneel in the corner of the room, approaching him with a cruel smile on your face, penis pump in your hand. And you maliciously laugh in his face when he begins to sob, tears and cries visible and audible even through the thick material of his hood as you strap him in, attaching a leash to his cute collar and wrapping strands of pretty ropes all around him, cyan string painting a pretty picture against his olive skin

“Oh don’t be such a cry baby. If I knew you were going to get this loud, I would have shoved my used panties into your mouth beforehand.” 

That only makes him cry louder and you sigh, rolling your eyes in exaggerated annoyance as you start the machine, razor sharp smile splitting your face at how he writhes and futilely fights against his restraints, more sloppy tears and whines escaping him as his cock is relentlessly pumped. 

“Have fun, puppy! Make sure to cum as much as you want, okay? After all, whatever you spill is going to be your meal. So try and make sure we can fill up your dog bowl as much as possible later!” 

And with that you turn on your heels and leave the humiliated man to suffer and cry, making sure to get his pretty bowl ready for this evening’s entertainment~

[capsteddybear]

Our Playlist: ** Part of Your World - Little Mermaid

** Chapter contains smut

You walk into your apartment and throw your bag on the floor and flop your body onto your couch face first into the throw pillow. Work this week had been stressful setting up exams for your students. You were really glad that today was Friday and looking forward to doing absolutely nothing for the next two days. You hear your cellphone ring so you reach to your back pocket and answer it without looking at the screen with your face still in the pillow.

"Hello?"

"Hi, hey you okay, (y/n)? You sound tired", Chris said.

You smile a bit and turn over so you're laying on your back, but your eyes are still close. "Yeah I'm fine, it's just been a long day."

"Do you wanna cancel dinner tonight so you can rest?"

"Yes, but not really."

"What do you mean?"

"I still wanna see you, but I don't feel like going out to dinner. I'm not in the mood to dress up tonight."

Chris stays silent for a moment before replying, "how about movie night at my place? I'll order take out and buy snacks. No need to dress up. We can just relax tonight. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Great! I'll head out right now for the food."

"Meet at your place in an hour?"

"Yeah, sounds like a plan. I'll text you my address."

"Okay, see you soon, Chris."

"Bye, (y/n)."

You hang up the phone and toss it on the side table next to your couch. You lay there staring at the ceiling before finally getting up to take a quick shower.

You dry yourself and throw on a grey tank top, olive green sweats, and your favorite black hoodie. You throw your hair up in a messy ponytail put on your shoes and head over to Chris' house.

You park your truck in the driveway next to Chris' car and walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. You hear a dog barking. Chris opens the door and you look down and see the cutest dog wagging its tail.

"Hi, (y/n)."

"Hi, Chris." You give him a quick hug and kneel down and start petting Chris' dog. "And who is this?"

"This is dodger. My bud."

"Hi handsome!" You rub Dodger's belly as he melts to the floor.

"Hey, you never call me handsome." You look up and see Chris with his arms crossed and a pouty look on his face. You stand up and wrap your arms around Chris' neck and pull him in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry. Hello handsome." You laugh as Chris pulls you in for another kiss.

"Hi beautiful." Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes.

"Hi." Chris rubs your back as you give him another kiss. Chris closes the front door and guides you to the living room where he has dinner set up.

"Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink? Beer? Wine?"

You kick off your shoes and take a seat on the couch, "a beer would be good."

Chris jogs to the kitchen to grab you guys a few beers as you empty out your pockets and place your phone, wallet and keys on the coffee table. You check your phone to make sure it's on silent so no one disturbs your movie night with Chris. He returns with two bottles of beer and hands you one as he takes a quick sip of his. He takes a seat next to you and presents the take out he ordered. You make yourself a plate as chris jumps up from the couch.

"Okay so what movie should we start with?"

You have a mouthful of food and try not to spit any of it out as you answer, "um, how about some old school batman?"

Chris puts his hands on his waist, "you thinking Michael Keaton or Val Kelmer?"

"Michael Keaton."

Chris points to you and nods as he walks up to the shelf next to the TV and searches for the movie. Once he finds it he pops open the dvd player and inserts the disc. He walks back to the couch and sits next to you. You both enjoy your food and a few more beers as both of you are now leaning back on the couch, holding hands as his thumb caresses the outside of your hand, full from everything you ate. As the end credits scroll on the TV Chris slowly sits up.

"What movie is next?"

"You pick this time."

"Hm, let's watch the Little Mermaid!" Chris squeezes your hand and has the biggest smile on his face.

You giggle, "I've never seen it."

Chris gasps, "What?! How have you never watched The Little Mermaid? I thought you said you were a Disney fan."

"I mean I've probably watched it when I was little, but I don't remember the storyline."

"Oh my god, (y/n). You're breaking my heart. We're gonna watch The Little Mermaid." Chris gets up and switches the DVDs.

You stand up and stretch and grab yours and Chris' plates to take to the kitchen.

"Hey, you don't have to do that" Chris says as he turns down the lights and walks back to the couch.

"It's fine, Chris. It'll be less for you to clean up later." You put the dishes in the sink and walk back to the living room. "Which way to the bathroom?"

Chris points to the hallway, "first door on the left."

You freshen up a bit and head back to the living room and curl up next to Chris as he kicks off his shoes, kicks up his feet on the coffee table and starts the movie. He puts his right arm around you and you scoot closer to him. He plants a kiss on your head as the opening scene starts. You're both quiet for majority of the movie except when a song comes on and Chris starts humming along. You nudge him to keep quiet so you can watch the movie, but this time he starts belting out the lyrics.

"Up where they walk!"

You giggle, "My God, Chris."

"Up where they stay all day in the sun!"

"Chris."

"Wish I could be, Part of tha!-" You quickly kiss him to make him stop. He laughs and kisses you back. His left hand comes up and cups your face as his thumb caresses your cheek. "Hi." He kisses you again and he feels you smile against his lips. "What?"

"We're missing the movie." You softly push Chris back as he groans, but gives you a quick kiss before leaning back on the couch.

"Fine, but I'm only stopping because I really want you to watch the movie."

You laugh as you lean your head on his shoulder and extend your right arm around his waist for a hug, "Thank you."

Chris stays quiet for the rest of the movie. He plants kisses on your head every once in awhile and you also notice his right hand starts to wander. With you resting your head on his shoulder and your arm around the front of his waist you have your body extended out on the rest of the couch. Chris' hand slides down to your hip where he lightly touches your exposed skin. You jump at his touch and quickly place your hand on top of his. He suddenly stops.

"Sorry."

You let out a laugh, "You found my ticklish spot."

Chris looks at your with a grin on his face, "oh really?" You're now in big trouble as he starts tickling your side. You quickly curl up into a ball to defend yourself. It only helps for a bit before Chris overpowers you.

You're now squirming as Chris lays over you tickling your sides and planting kisses on your neck driving you wild. You try to even out the playing field and reach behind him and start tickling his lower back under his shirt. You feel him laugh against your neck and his stubble tickles you while also driving you over the edge that you let out a moan. He stops tickling you and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him as he kisses you on the lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and look at him in the eyes while you try to catch your breath, "Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"We're missing the movie."

Chris sighs and puts his head down to your chest and let's out an annoyed groan. You laugh as he sits up and pulls you towards him so you're back in your original cuddling position. You look up at him and give him a flirty smile as you wrap your arm across his waist. You continue watching the rest of the movie without any interruptions.

As soon as the last scene ends and the end credits start scrolling up Chris turns down the TV and tosses the remote on the coffee table and squeezes your shoulder. "Okay, the movie is over, now where were we?" He cups your face and starts kissing you. He leans over you again and wraps his arm around your waist and picks you up to scoot you on the couch so your body is laid out and he moves a bit silently asking for permission to lay in between your legs. You open your legs and let him settle. The new feeling of him between your legs makes you moan. You kiss him on his neck as your hands slide up his back under his shirt. He smiles against your neck, "do you want me to take it off?"

"Please?"

Chris pushes himself up from you to start undressing, but you follow and move his hands out of the way and start unbuttoning his shirt as he cups your face with both of his hands and starts kissing you. You both moan as you hurry to get his shirt undone. Chris laughs against your lips when you groan because the last button is giving you trouble. You decide to just rip it open and Chris gasps.

"Hey, this is my favorite shirt."

"I'll fix it later." You say in between kisses. You help Chris out of his shirt and toss it on the floor. Chris then takes off his white under shirt and tosses it on the floor as well.

You touch his chest as you look up at Chris with hunger in your eyes. With only the light beaming from the TV you see Chris smile and kiss you. His hands come up to your zipper on your hoodie and he toys with it. "May I?"

"Please." He slowly unzips it to reveal your grey tank top. He helps you slip out of your hoodie and plants kisses on your shoulders. You toss your hoodie on the floor. Chris cups your face and kisses you before slowly slipping off your glasses. He gently puts them on the coffee table and continues kissing you. Chris' hands start to wander down to your waist and tugs at your shirt. You reach down and he helps you take it off. He then undoes your hair tie and let's your hair fall against your shoulders and back. You moan as Chris runs his fingers through it. Chris wraps his arm around you and lays you back down as he moves to lay on top of you.

"You're so beautiful, (y/n)." He caresses your face and kisses you down your neck. Your hands run up and down his back as you rock your hips up toward his pants.

"Please, Chris."

He whispers next to your ear, "What do you need?"

You moan softly, "touch me, please."

He moans and runs his right hand down your side and stops at the front of your sweat pants. He looks you in the eyes, "Are you sure?" As he slightly tugs on the string.

You nod and kiss him. "Please"

He pulls on the string to loosen your pants and give him access to slip his hand in between you. he slowly moves his hand down your mound as he kisses you. You gasp as soon as he touches your pussy. Chris stops and looks at you.

You touch his face, "I'm okay, just go slow it's been awhile."

"Promise." He kisses you again and starts moving his fingers slowly. You moan as he slowly moves his fingers up and down your lips letting you get used to his touch. Your hands run up and down his back as you become more aroused. He uses your juices and moves his fingers in a circular motion on your clit. You moan against his lips as you kiss him. You rock your hips towards his hand for more stimulation. Chris reads you and adds more pressure. You whimper at his touch.

"You like that?"

Your breathing increases, "Yeah." You moan. "Faster."

Chris starts rubbing your clit faster as you start to squirm below him. You bite your lip trying to keep calm.

Chris feels you tense up. "Hey don't hold back. Let it happen." He starts to kiss down your neck and shoulder to help you relax. You close your eyes and give into the feeling. You start scratching Chris' back as the pleasure increases. He moans against your neck.

"Oh God, Chris. Don't stop. Yes." You run your hands through his hair.

"That's it. You gonna come soon?"

You whimper. "Uh huh."

Chris increases his speed and you cry out his name. "Chris. Fuck. Yes. Harder, please, harder."

He growls as he does what you say.

"Ahh Chris. I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum."

You stiffen up and your orgasm takes over you. You roll your hips towards his hand and Chris doesn't stop as he follows you through it. Milking every ounce of energy you have. Your whole body is shaking from your orgasm as Chris looks up at you and smiles. He slows down as you come down and steady your breathing. He plants light kisses on your shoulder as you hold onto him tight.

"You doing okay there?"

"Yeah", you moan.

Chris fingers are still rubbing your lips, "I love the sounds you make when you're about to cum. I'd really like to hear them again." He slowly pushes one finger into your pussy and you whimper at his touch and push your hips up as he swirls it inside you.

"Oh God." You gasp at the new feeling. He slowly adds a second finger. There's a slight discomfort that makes you hiss. Chris pays attention to you and stops until you relax.

"You okay?" He whispers.

"Yeah, just go slow."

Chris moves his fingers in and out of you slowly. You moan with pleasure as you kiss his neck. As you relax your arousal runs down Chris' hand and he twists his fingers touching your internal walls. You whimper and buck your hips under him.

"How does that feel?"

"So good. Please, Chris."

"Talk to me, (y/n)."

You moan against his lips, "I need more."

Chris slowly adds another finger inside you. You hiss and grab his arm and he stops until you relax before continuing. He kisses your neck and light bites you as you moan. He continues pushing his fingers inside you. You start to scratch his back as he moves his fingers in and out of you. Each time he goes in deeper and touches on different spots watching you for different responses. He touches your g-spot and you cry out.

"There it is." You feel him smile as he kisses your neck. He keeps touching that spot until you cum again.

"Oh Chris. Fuck. I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Ahh." Chris kisses you passionately to mask your cries. He feels your walls pulse around his fingers as your orgasm takes over. He slowly removes his fingers as you catch your breath. You're still holding him tightly as he plants kisses on your shoulder.

"How are you doing?" He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close.

"Holy shit, Chris." You pant. "That was amazing."

He brushes your hair behind your ear, "no you're amazing." And gives you a kiss.

You lean up towards him and push him to sit up without breaking the kiss. He turns so you're straddling him. He runs his hands up and down your sides, but you have other plans. You reach for the zipper of his jeans. He suddenly puts his hand on yours.

"Don't worry about me, (y/n)." He whispers. "Tonight is about you. I just wanted to make you feel good."

You moan and look at him, "Well you did, thank you." You plant a soft kiss on his lips and he just wraps his arms around you holding you. You moan at how comfortable he makes you feel and you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. You're so tired that you could fall asleep in this position. Chris rubs your back and slowly sits up and grabs your waist to lay you back on the couch.

He has both of his arms on both sides of you as he holds himself above you. You caress his forearms as he leans down to kiss your forehead. "I'll be right back." Chris gets up and heads to his room as you curl up making yourself more comfortable.

Chris must have tired you out really good because when he came back to the living room with a blanket he spotted you asleep. He quietly walked up to you, placed the blanket on you, and gave you another kiss on the forehead. He turned off the TV and went to sleep in his room.

=====

The next morning you wake up to the sun shining through the window so you pull up the blanket to cover your face and you turn your body on the couch to find another comfy spot. You take a deep breath and then you suddenly smell the scent of bacon and your eyes open wide. You rub your eyes and look around. You must have drank a few too many beers because it took you a second to figure out where you were at. You looked around for Chris, but no sign. Dodger walks slowly towards you sitting on the couch. You pet him and you reach down to put your tank top back on. You sneak to the bathroom to freshen up. You then make your way to the kitchen and see a shirtless Chris cooking breakfast. He has his back turned to you so you lean against the wall and silently watch as you hear him hum and continue cooking. When he turns to grab something out of the cupboard he sees you at the corner of his eye.

"Good morning, (y/n)."

You walk to Chris and give him a hug, "good morning. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked too comfortable to disturb. Plus I know you had a long week and needed to rest." He gives you a quick kiss before he continues cooking. You rub his back and take a seat on one of the stools that's at the counter. Chris finishes cooking you breakfast and makes you a plate. You both enjoy your food and you spend the rest of your Saturday cuddling with Chris on the couch watching movies.

[puppyluver256]

[Image Description: Trevor Garbo from Smile For Me hugging a brown and cream Saint Bernard dog, while in the background Trencil Varnnia chats with Kamal Bora as Boris Habit and a slightly angry Putunia Mollar observe Trevor and the dog. Trevor is a teen boy with olive skin, shoulder-length auburn hair, and freckles. He is wearing a yellow t-shirt with a purple collar, the rest of his body being out of frame. There are slightly blood-soaked wads of gauze in his mouth and he has bloody drool seeping from his mouth. The dog has a red collar with a blue tag reading "WEBSTER" and is looking at Trevor with his tongue out. Trencil is a vampire man with tanned skin, green hair, and a visible fang in his smile. He is wearing a light green long-sleeved shirt, green pants, and a long brown cape. Kamal is a man with medium brown skin and wavy dark blue hair. He is mostly obscured by Trevor in the foreground, but his teal shirt is visible as his arm scratches the back of his head and he is presumably laughing nervously. Boris is a tall man with green skin, long red curly hair, red eyes with orange sclera, and a missing tooth. He is wearing a pink t-shirt with a white and yellow flower graphic and blue pants, and is holding a large red hairbrush  for dogs in his hand. Putunia is a little girl with reddish-brown skin, short dark blue hair, teal eyes, and a misaligned tooth. She is wearing a green shirt with a pale orange collar and blue shorts. The wall behind them all is cream with a large painting of a blue flower. To the left of the image is a brown door w/ a rectangular window, and to the right is an opening to a blue room. End ID.]

-----

Trevor was off in his own world by this point. As far as he was concerned, the only two people in existence were himself and Webster. He sat there for several minutes, petting and laying on Webster and getting diluted blood drool on the white parts of his coat. “That’s real gross, Trevor!” Putunia exclaimed. “You’re gonna stain him, and then Dad and Pops’ll hafta give him another bath!”

“Give him a break, Tunes, he can’t exactly help it,” Kamal chuckled.

“Well, we should get going pretty soon,” Trencil said, tapping Trevor on the shoulder to get his attention. “Someone has to do some recovering, after all.”

+++++

More 101 Smiles and more DOGGO :3 Dogs are good for what ails ya, even if what ails ya is having just had your wisdom teeth removed hehe.

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Trencil Varnnia, Kamal Bora, Trevor Garbo, Dr. Boris Habit, and Putunia Mollar © LimboLane Webster the Dog © @pollyannam3​ Artwork © PuppyLuver Studios