#source: I doodled him with cat ears

[akiwitch]

Okay but what if I made Stefan a cat boy

[criminallymoral]

Anyways, days ago my internet bitched and while I had no wifi I did some queerplatonic husband Alastor (from Hazbin Hotel) headcanons, I had let it sit in case I wanted to add some more (I had that feeling that I forgot something yk) but it's been like a week and I don't even remember what I had wrote soooo

Qp husband Alastor Headcanons

Qp husband Alastor! That likes to (and according to your style) dress you in the prettiest outfits.

Qp husband Alastor! That you could annoy to an explosion point and he'd still never raise his hand at you.

Qp husband Alastor! That cooks and cleans your shared home.

Qp husband Alastor! That starts listening to and even broadcasting some of your favorite songs, no matter what genre.

Qp husband Alastor! That likes to lay on you and will wag his tail if you massage his deer-ears. (You're the only one allowed to do so)

Qp husband Alastor! That allows pda at the hotel but gets embarassed when he remembers he has audience.

Qp husband Alastor! That allows himself to cry on your shoulder.

Qp husband Alastor! That links arms when you two walk.

Qp husband Alastor! That'll open doors for you in the beginning of your relationship but as it progresses he'll close them on your face just to play with you.

Qp husband Alastor! That goes from offering his coat to ask for the one you're not even using when he's cold (he gets whiny if you say no).

Qp husband Alastor! Who's actually a big jokester and likes a lot of modern stuff.

Qp husband Alastor! Who doodles you both with hearts holding hands on his work sheets.

Qp husband Alastor! Who confides in you (don't break his trust, he'll cry, then kill you).

Qp husband Alastor! That's protective of you in a non toxic/controlling way.

Qp husband Alastor! That invites you to troll Vox with him and giggles like a teenage girl.

Qp husband Alastor! That'll get YOU a pet just to end up cuddling with it 24/7. (He's a cat dad for real sources: voices in my head).

Qp husband Alastor! That's actually cuddly and affectionate.

Qp husband Alastor! That looks up to you and is so proud to call you his partner.

Qp husband Alastor! That'd try to kill god himself if you died in an extermination.

Qp husband Alastor! That hears and remembers everything you tell him.

Qp husband Alastor! That'd slow dance with you in a moment and have a pillow fight in the other.

Qp husband Alastor! That massages your shoulders after a long day.

Qp husband Alastor! That focus so much on your presence he sometimes forgets he's literally in hell and is an overlord.

Qp husband Alastor! That loves taking baths with you (in a childish way, on a side note, he'd love if you washed his hair / he'd also wash yours).

Qp husband Alastor! That'll be by your side as soon as you call him (he worries <3).

Qp husband Alastor! That'll take you to a nice classy restaurant but would let himself be dragged to a party/rave by you after.

Qp husband Alastor! That sings along with you.

Qp husband Alastor! That loves your similarities AND your differences.

Qp husband Alastor! That genuinely laughs at your jokes. (He dad-jokes back)

Qp husband Alastor! That tries to make you laugh when you're down so you feel a bit better.

Qp husband Alastor! That sews your ruined clothes and even gets you both matching outfits.

Qp husband Alastor! That seems polite and cold but is just a caring childish mf on the inside.

Qp husband Alastor! That freezes (even stops smiling) and blushes like crazy if you compliment him (especially his voice).

Qp husband Alastor! That takes you to the studio and even lets you be his co-host.

Qp husband Alastor! That was a hell of a slowburn but was totally worth it.

I wanna dance in the rain with pookie 😔 and share some jambalaya under candle light 💔

[valentineforlemonandcherry]

Joke's On You 16

When Fred Weasley carelessly bumps into you into the hallway, you decide to take him a notch down; not by berating him, but by showing him up at his own game of using your charm and intellect to get what you want. And it’s fine if the end result doesn’t leave everyone quite satisfied - in fact, that’s what you want…

[Fred Weasley x Reader.] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Non-Consent.] [Warning: Manipulation.] [Warning: Humiliation.]

⍟ Click Here for Joke’s On You Home Page (All Chapter Links) ⍟

The Slytherins came back from holiday to find the most horrendous smell lurking in their common room. The obvious answer, of course, was to simply Vanish the smell. However, the smell was sure to return again over time. Besides, everyone wanted to know what the source was. Was it Goyle’s filthy Quidditch shoes, stewing away in the far corner? Was it Parkinson’s horned toad, who kept leaving a trail of droppings from the entryway to the window? Or had Filch’s dirty mop finally gotten so incredibly filthy that instead of cleaning, it soiled everything it touched?

The Slytherins grudgingly searched the common room, walking around with their noses plugged until they were next to whatever they thought was the source of the scent, then unplugging their nose to sniff it, only to shake their head and hastily plug their nose back up. Finally, fed-up with what he called “servants’ work,” Draco Malfoy cried out in a plugged, warbly voice, “My father will hear about this!” Hundreds of miles away, Lucius felt a sudden crick in his neck. 

At long last, Professor Snape was called in. Imagine his fury when he discovered a well-placed, completely rotten egg under the tile under the foot of the grand piano. He puffed up in anger, with his chest welling up so much that it strained his tightly buttoned-up black robe. He opened his mouth –

At the precise moment that Snape began to let out his breath of rage, over in the Gryffindor common room, Neville’s frog, Trevor, emitted a long, high-pitched whistle that alarmed everyone – and not in the least Fred and George. Because for a split second, Fred and George thought that their mum had followed them all the way to Hogwarts to yell at them again. It would have been good timing too, Fred thought wryly, as he, George, and Lee began to pull all manner of goods out of the secret compartments of their trunks. 

Almost an hour later, Fred finally announced, “That’s everything.”

“Great,” George said. “Let’s sort it all out and write out that order form again.”

Lee nodded over at Fred’s trunk. “What’s that?”

Fred didn’t need to look over to see what Lee was referring to. There was only one item left in his trunk and he’d left it there because it would have hurt his pride to take it out. Nevertheless, the tips of Fred’s ears went red as he muttered, “Nothing. Never mind that.” 

Stuffed in the corner of his trunk lay the heart-covered boxers you’d gotten him for Christmas. 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You were happy to return to classes – most of all, Charms. As you took your usual seat next to Kenneth, you gloated, “Well, well, so you got me in nearly all of our subjects – except this one, huh?” You waggled your finger at him. “You can beat me ten times over in Potions and Arithmancy and what-have-you, but never in Charms.”

Kenneth merely said, “You seem very happy.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” you replied, as you sat down and began to pull your notes out. As you set your parchment down on the desk, Kenneth frowned.

“What is that?” Kenneth asked, pointing at a rude doodle drawn on the parchment.

You peered down at it. It was a small doodle of a devil cat, clearly enjoying its time as it basked in the flames of hell. You quickly turned the parchment over to hide it – only, scrawled on the back of the parchment were the words, Yours truly, Fredrick Gideon Weasley.  You flushed as you hurriedly put the parchment back into your bag. Kenneth stared at you.

When you turned back around, he said, cautiously, “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but just before break, I happened to be in the Great Hall for breakfast - ”

You couldn’t help but giggle at this, as you pointed out, “You make it sound like that happened against your own will, Kenneth.”

Kenneth turned slightly pink. But he continued, “ - and I saw - well, the whole school saw - Fred Weasley asking you out.”

You suddenly went quiet.

Sensing that he had the advantage, Kenneth pressed, “Is it true?”

“Well, it sounds like you saw it with your own two eyes, so who am I to deny that?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” 

You began to rummage around in your school bag, looking for a quill or a book or something (anything, really, except that piece of parchment), when Kenneth reached over and grasped your arm to stop you. “Are you really dating Fred Weasley?” 

You met Kenneth’s eyes. Oh, he’s my friend. I can’t lie to him. Besides, I’m not ashamed or anything to be with Fred. In fact, I’m rather proud of it.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

You expected Kenneth to let go of your arm, but he only held on harder as he pressed, “Have you lost your senses? Of all people, Fred Weasley?”

“Yes,” you said stubbornly, now trying to sidle your arm out of Kenneth’s grasp.

Just then, a familiar voice said, rather meanly, “Oi. Let go of her arm.” 

You and Kenneth both looked up to see Fred standing there.  Kenneth slowly let go of your arm.

“Hi, Fred,” you said brightly.

“Hi, hellcat,” Fred responded, though he lifted his eyebrow at you. “Interesting conversation you’re having here, huh?”

Kenneth’s brow furrowed, as he put together the drawing with Fred’s nickname for you.

You replied, “Not really. I was only slandering your name, and Kenneth here was sticking up for your honor.” You reached over and thumped Kenneth heartily in the back.

“Oh, really?” Fred said wryly, his mouth twisting into a rather cruel shape.

“Yes, really,” you stressed. “So, you should move along before McGonagall comes in and starts the term by taking twenty points away from her own house.”

“Fine,” Fred replied. But before he stepped past you and Kenneth, he said, “And it’s none of your business, innit, Towler?”

Kenneth shook his head at you, as if to say, ‘Really? That guy?’

You looked over at Kenneth and nodded, replying wordlessly, Yeah, that guy.

“But you’re a prefect,” Kenneth said, speaking quietly now.

“Yes, I am.”

“How are you going to - ? Isn’t it going to pose a problem? I mean, aren’t you going to let him off the hook now?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not,” you said earnestly. “I’m going to be more strict with him than ever. In fact, I don’t think it’s an overstatement to say that Fred Weasley will be the reason I become Head Girl. I’m going to catch him so many times that it’ll be a new record for how many times a prefect has rounded up a villain.”

“Villain?”

“Fine. Mischief-maker. But you get my point.”

“And he’s not going to be mad at you?”

You snorted. “I damn well hope he is. That stupid Fred Weasley.” 

You buried your head in your book, trying to hide the happy blush that was spreading on your face as you thought of ‘stupid Fred Weasley.’ 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

During lunch, you came over to Fred’s dormitory. Knocking on the door,  you sang out, “Fred! Could you come out here, please? I have something for you.”

Inside, you heard George throw something and then call out, “Oi! Fred! Devil’s knocking on the door, and it’s for you.”

You paused. Then, you knocked on the door again and said, in a very different tone, “Hey, you in there, what did you just call me?”

Just then, the door opened. It was Fred. “Hi, hellcat. Come to see me?”

“Yes,” you said. “Could you please come out here? I want to speak with you.”

Fred started to step out, but as he did, you caught sight of George and Lee sitting on the bed in the room. You pointed at George and said knowingly, “You.”

George ignored you – and Fred had shut the door. Turning to you, Fred immediately meant to grab you and kiss you hello, but as he made to reach for you, you stopped him short by suddenly presenting him with a piece of parchment.

Fred looked down at it. “What’s this?”

You tapped the top of the parchment, where you had neatly titled it: Petition to Fred Gideon Weasley, regarding the use of certain pet names. You explained, “I would like to reserve the names, ‘Freddie’ and ‘Freddie boy’ for cases of cuteness.”

Fred instantly looked disgusted, but he also looked a tad confused. “You wrote an entire letter just for that?”

“That’s right. It’s my petition to you, my boyfriend,” you said softly. Reaching out, you gently stroked Fred’s tie. “I miss my pet names for you.”

Fred snorted. “You can call me pet names, just – just something more fitting.”

You cocked your head at him. “Like what?”

“Like…” Fred thought about it for a moment. Then, his eyes brightened, and he suggested proudly, “Like ‘Sir.’”

You blinked. “Sir?” you repeated.

Fred smirked slyly at you. “That’s right.”

“Oh…” Your brow furrowed – and then you burst into laughter. “Ha, ha, ha!” You keeled over and laughed merrily, and you accidentally forced Fred into a bow, as you were still holding onto his tie.

“Oi, you’re – you’re choking me,” Fred groaned.

“Oh! Sorry!” You let go of his tie, but you kept laughing into your hands.

“What?” Fred said defensively. “What’s so funny about that?”

You wiped tears from your eyes and waved him away, chortling, “Anyways, Fred, have a serious thought about the original petition, please.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The class after lunch was Potions. When Professor Snape stormed into the dungeon, everyone immediately fell quiet. At once, he barked out, “Weasley!”

Fred and George chorused together, “Yes?”

“On your feet!”

Fred stood up. Meanwhile, George remained sitting.

Snape glared at George. “I said, on your feet!”

“Oh, I thought you meant him. Sorry.” George stood up, and Fred sat down.

“No, both of you, on your feet!”

About half of the class giggled as George then (completely unnecessarily) sat back down before he and Fred stood up together.

“A regular ol’ circus act,” Lee murmured appreciatively.

“Stupid,” Kenneth muttered under his breath. “They’re only making Snape angrier.”

“I shall give you one chance for repentance before I report you to the Head of your House,” Snape said thinly. “Which of you disrespectful dunderheads decided it was a good idea to hide a rotting egg  under a tile under the piano in the Slytherin common room?”

Your eyes flashed. Oh Merlin, I completely forgot about that.

“Neither of us, sir,” Fred said confidently.

“Is that so?” Snape sneered, clearly not believing Fred.

“Yep,” Fred replied. His eyes twinkled merrily, as if he was secretly dying with laughter inside.

George chirped up, “Cross my heart and hope to die, Professor.”

Your cheeks slowly turned red, as you realized both Fred and George were teasing you, though both of them were pros and didn’t so much as throw you a wink.

David mused, “I thought only first year girls used phrases like that.”

Your cheeks brightened even further. “Some – Some older students might use that phrase, too,” you murmured defensively.

Snape ground his teeth in frustration. “I have tried to give you a chance for repentance - ”

“With all due respect, Professor, I did all my repentance on New Year’s. I had an angel come by and lead me through the whole she-bang,” Fred said, in a mockingly innocent tone. “So I reckon I’m clean as a sheet - ”

Snape blew up. “Enough! Enough! I shall – I shall see to your punishment after class. Sit down. Now.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

When class ended, you dawdled near your desk.  Meanwhile, Fred and George dutifully came up to Snape’s desk.

“Are you aware of how long it took Mr. Filch and myself to discover where the horrendous smell was coming from?” Snape seethed.

“No,” George said. “To be honest, we’re not at all sure of what you’re talking about, Professor. Could you maybe explain to us -?”

Slam. Snape brought his book down on his desk. He grasped the edges of his desk and leaned over it to peer unpleasantly into Fred and George’s faces. “The two of you will never have another moment out of detention again. I shall assign to you six months’ worth of - ”

“Oh, no!” you cried out, as you dropped an ink bottle. It smashed and went all over the floor. Distressed, you sat down and began to wipe at the ink with your sleeve.

Snape berated you, “Idiot girl! Did you forget you’re magical? Move aside.”

You shifted out of the way and Snape waved his wand. The ink cleared up at once.

“Sorry, Professor,” you said earnestly. “I was only looking for my quill and ink because I had some questions to ask you about the Draught of Living Death. You were saying something about its alchemic properties and I didn’t understand - ”

Snape closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain his fury. Finally, he said, “Read the textbook, then. I will not spend my time entertaining the most basic of questions. And, Mr. Weasley - ”

“Yes?” Fred and George chorused together again.

“Out. Get out. But be warned, if I ever catch you pulling such a prank again - ”

“Professor, we’d never - ”

“ – Honestly - ”

“- We don’t even know - ”

“ – what this is all about - ”

“ – But good day, Professor - ”

“ – Take care - ”

“- And happy New Year’s!”

The twins had been slowly tripping backwards towards the door and when they let out their cheerful New Year’s greetings, they slipped out of the room.

Meanwhile, you had finished stuffing your quill back into your bag and you high-tailed out of there as well.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You spent the evening with your friends, coming up with study plans for the term. Afterwards, as you made your way back up to your prefect’s room, out from a secret passageway, a tall, ginger-haired boy suddenly appeared and wrapped his long arms around you.

“Well, well,” Fred whispered teasingly in your ear. “Look who’s become a little rogue. I always knew I’d bring you over to my side.”

You scoffed. “As if. I simply thought it was unfair that Snape was trying to punish you when he had no evidence that you actually committed the deed.”

“Mhm,” Fred agreed, squeezing you in his arms and nudging the top of your head with his chin to make you squirm, “especially because if he followed the trail all the way through, he’d find you  holding the end of the rope, right?”

“No.”

“Who was the one that asked for the egg to be hidden under a tile under the piano?” Fred reached down and grasped your chin with his hand and made you turn your head to look up at him. “Who was it, hm?”

You yanked your head away and said lightly, “I have no idea.”

“No?”

“No. Truly haven’t the foggiest.”

“Maybe because you were drunk off of Firewhiskey that night,” Fred said, grinning now. “And you’d taken a bucket to the head - ”

You reached up and pushed your hand against Fred’s lips. “Shush, you.”

Fred shook his head, shaking your hand off of his mouth. “Drop any more fireworks, lately?”

You scowled. “You keep this up and I’ll drop you.”

Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. “You could never,” he said knowingly. “You couldn’t live without me, your boyfriend.”

You eyed him skeptically. “You’re being disgusting, Fred.”

“Am not.” Fred proceeded to make all sorts of kissy faces at you, clearly making fun of you.

You took the opportunity to stomp hard on his foot.

“Ow!” Fred yelled. He hurriedly stepped back.

Slinging your school bag coolly over your shoulder and walking away, you waved your fingers in the air and called, “Come find me when you’re done being a moron.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Fred did come and visit you, in your prefect’s room, later that night.

When he walked in, he was grinning to himself and he was dusting his hands off of something…

You hesitated. “What were up to, Fred?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” Fred said easily. “Just testing the properties of permanent ink.”

You blinked. “Why in the world would you need to test for that? Isn’t the main property in the name?”

“Of course, silly, but how permanent is ‘standard permanent’?” Fred explained. “And would it be possible to create, let’s say, an ink that is permanent unless removed by a very particular, even singular, singular erasing liquid?”

“Well, of course it’s possible."

Fred gave you a doubtful look.

You reeled off impressively, “You’d have to find a type of ink that wasn’t based on whatever regular ink is based on. Then, in terms of creating a singular erasing liquid, it would essentially come down to an application of Golpalott’s Third Law for antidotes. In other words, the erasing compound wouldn’t ever be a simple one-to-one ratio or the simple sums of the ratios present in the permanent ink. Something alchemic would need to happen to create a true antidote – or, in this case, a true and singular erasing ointment.”

Fred clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! That’s how we can create an ink where only the prankster can erase the ink. That’s mighty helpful. Thanks, love.”

You paused. “Wait, what? That was why you asked me that?”

“I didn’t ask you, technically speaking,” Fred pointed out. “I was merely speaking aloud an observational question. It was you that couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show off and be little-miss-know-it-all.”

Your jaw dropped open. He pretended to look foolish on purpose, just to egg me on!

Fred waggled his finger at you. “Humility, love, you’ve got to learn it someday. You’re just too full of yourself.”

“Me?!” you said indignantly. “I was merely sharing my knowledge with you, hoping to educate your stupid little brain. It’s not my fault all you can think about is pranks - ”

“ – and pussy,” Fred finished for you. He pranced over to you and grabbed your face in his hand. Leaning towards you, he made a kissy face and said, in an overly playful voice, “And it looks like I’ve got both of those sorted out right here.” He squeezed your cheeks in his hand and leaned in to peck your nose.  

You went bright red. “Fred!”

Fred chuckled merrily. He let go of your face, but he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned towards you as he said, rather brightly and boyishly, “Wow, this is what flusters you? Look at you, red as a tomato. Of all the embarrassing shit you pull, the fact that you helped me develop a product is what sinks you?”

Your mouth turned into a very thin line, and you made to turn away from Fred. But he grabbed you and pulled you into his arms.

Fred’s breath tickled you as he murmured teasingly into your ear. “Where d’you think you’re going, huh? You’re in your own room. There’s nowhere to go to.”

You quickly batted him away.

Fred laughed and let you go. He then started to flop over onto your bed, but you made him wash his hands first.

You paused, however, when you heard your shower start up. Ten minutes later, Fred walked out, wearing nothing but one of your fluffy pink towels. You stared at him.

Fred smiled as he ran another towel – a lavender one – through his hair. “Like what you see, mistress?”

You cleared your throat. You did, in fact, like what you were seeing. Except his chest is too clean-looking. It doesn’t have the kiss marks that it should have… from me.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind of such wanting thoughts. Then, standing up, you pointed to your bed. “Have a seat, Fred.”

Fred snorted. “What is this, a business meeting?”

“Yes.” You brought your notebook over to the bed and plopped down with it. You pointed to your notebook. “Listen here. I’m going to offer you a little deal. You’d be a fool not to take it, I think, but well – it’s your life and I don’t like forcing anyone into anything, so…”

Fred glanced down at your notebook. “What the hell is that supposed to be? A rune?”

“No.” You pushed the notebook towards him. “Have you ever heard of the game ‘tic tac toe’?”

Fred shook his head.

“Well, it’s easy enough. The goal is to get three in a row,” you explained. “But here’s what I propose: Every time you and George pull one of your stupid pranks and you don’t get caught, you get a turn. But every time I help a professor catch you, then I get a turn. Except if it’s Snape, Filch, or Umbridge, of course. I won’t help them catch you – unless I’m really annoyed with you, that is.”

“Why’s that?” Fred asked, curious.

“Because Snape, Filch, and Umbridge aren’t fair with their punishments,” you explained succinctly. “But the other professors are – and you do deserve to be punished. You, George, and Lee are absolutely awful students. And from the sounds of it, the three of you are developing and selling a lot of stupid things - ”

“ - Our products aren’t stupid, they’re brilliant - ”

“And I’m not going to allow that, much less facilitate that.” You gave him a stern look. “Do I make myself clear?”

Fred rolled his eyes. Reaching out, he brushed the notebook away. “Or, how about you just help me get out of every punishment ever?” He leaned back onto your bed. At the same time, he reached over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you on top of him.

“No,”  you emphasized, hitting his chest lightly with your hands. “Can’t let you do that, Fred.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a prefect and that means something to me,” you said. “Besides, I promised Kenneth I would continue to be a good prefect.”

Fred frowned. “You promised Kenneth?”

“Yeah, Kenneth – you know, top of our class, fellow prefect, and my study friend. That Kenneth.” You pretended as if you hadn’t mentioned Kenneth on purpose and as if you were describing him only to help Fred remember who he was, but Fred caught the mean glimmer in your eye.

Fred growled. “You tease.” He suddenly gripped your wrists in his hands quite tightly. “You’re just dangling him in front of me, aren’t you, to get me all riled up?”

You laughed softly. “Maybe,” you admitted. Looking down at your hands, caught in his, you said pleasantly, “I think it’s working, don’t you?” You then nodded down at the pink towel that Fred was still wearing. “By the way, pink looks quite nice on you.”

Fred groaned. He dropped your hands and then, pushing you off of him, he rolled over and buried his face in your pillow.

You grabbed the notebook and followed him, nudging his shoulder repeatedly. “Fred? Fred? C’mon, won’t you play the game with me?”

“No,” Fred said emphatically.

“But you haven’t even heard what the prize is,” you pointed out.

“Don’t care,” Fred said shortly.

“Do you know what it is?” you pressed.

Fred was quiet for a moment.

He’s going to ask, you thought confidently. He won’t be able to stand the idea of missing out. He’s going to ask me… any second now –

“All right. What the hell’s the prize?”

You grinned. Rolling over so that you fell into his lap, you looked up at him and whispered lovingly, “Anything you want.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

“Professor McGonagall!” you shouted fiercely. “There they are!” 

Fred, George, and Lee, who were all gathered around the entrance of the Slytherin common room, wheeled around. Spotting you, Fred cursed.

Dropping the net they had been installing over the Slytherin common room entrance, all three of them ran for it.

“Iterdum!” You performed a Trip Jinx, pointing your wand at none other than Fred – and it caught him.

With a shout, Fred went sprawling onto the ground. However, just before McGonagall caught up to you, two pairs of hands reached out from behind the adjacent hallway and dragged Fred along the ground and out of sight.

Huffing and puffing, McGonagall appeared behind you. Her hat was lopsided. “Where are they?”

Glumly, you said, “They left.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

“First move goes to Fred!” Fred crowed gleefully as he placed an X right at the center of your little tic-tac-toe board.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It shouldn’t count. You were dragged out like a dying seal.”

“Doesn’t matter how it happened,” Fred countered. He fell back onto your bed. Running his hand through his hair, he mused, “Now, let’s see, what shall I have you do when I win?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you said, still annoyed.

Fred looked over at you and shot you an easy grin. “Sour grapes already? Boy, are you a sore loser.”

“I’m not sore and I’m not a loser,” you fired back. “I just don’t see what the point of you running your stupid little brain is, when I’m going to win anyways.”

“It’s just part of the fun, innit?” Fred said, now grinning even more cheekily at you. “I can imagine you however I like…” He closed his eyes. Imagining you, he moaned softly.

You scoffed.

Fred smirked. Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “Good girl, you know what I want already, even without me telling you.” 

“No,” you said stoutly. “Rather, I know how simple-minded you are, and how crass, and how - ”

While you were speaking, you had slowly wandered over to the bed and were now standing at the edge of the bed. Fred, still keeping his eyes closed, suddenly lifted one leg and tripped you. You fell right onto the bed, with a surprised shriek.

Fred grabbed you by the shoulders, and pushed you back onto the bed. He kissed you hungrily, making your lips part with his own and swallowing your fevered gasp. His hands roamed all over your body at once, making you go all soft and flushed for him.

“F-Fred…” you moaned softly, almost whining as he bit your lower lip and tugged playfully.

“I bet your plans for me are just as crass,” Fred whispered accusingly. “So, who are you to go calling me simple-minded and all that? Huh?”

“Well, but it’s true – mmm…” You felt Fred’s mouth push roughly against yours again, and his hands slipped under your shirt. His hands warmed up your tummy quickly and then, Fred groped your breasts adoringly, if not a little impatiently. Meanwhile, you had your hands wrapped around his slender neck and while you weren’t choking him, you reveled in being able to keep your hands there, slotted against his neck, keeping him warm while being able to hold onto him.

The two of you became lost in kissing each other for a long moment.

However, when Fred pulled away to catch his breath, you managed to whisper, “I’ve given it a lot of thought, Fred. If I win, I’m going to make you…”

“What?” Fred asked breathlessly.

“…Study.”

“What?” The romantic, heated atmosphere broke entirely as Fred sat up indignantly. “You’re going to make me what?”

Your lips, now flushed pink from kissing Fred, spread into a wicked little smile. You remained lying down, but your eyes slipped down and you gazed at Fred through half-lidded eyes as you whispered, seductively (and sardonically), “Study, Fred.”

Fred scoffed. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Mm,” you agreed lightly. You shifted over so that you could slip your head into his lap.

Fred only scowled at you.

“Fred,” you whispered, staring up at his ugly, immature expression in secret joy.

Fred ignored you.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Fred…”

Still nothing.

“I said I wasn’t sore yet…” Staring up into his eyes and slowly reaching out to pull at the end of his tie, you asked him in a gentle and honest voice, “I have to go and patrol the halls in an hour. Before then – could you maybe make me sore?”

Fwump.

You half-gasped and half-giggled as Fred roughly threw you over onto the bed and leaned over you.

“For Merlin’s sake, will you ever put me down nicely?”

“Shut up,” Fred growled, as he went to unzip his pants at once.

“Mm, nice growl, puppy,” you cooed. “And come closer, I want to rip off all your buttons.” You reached up and flexed your hands and grinned up at him.

Fred muttered, “Hellcat,” but he did as you asked, leaning down a little so that you could have your fill of happiness.

As you ripped off his tie, which was in the way, you remarked, “Fred, you’ve tied your tie all wrong.”

“I’ve tied it this way all my life.”

“Well, it’s wrong. Why didn’t you listen to your mum when she taught you?”

Fred grumbled, “How did you know my mum taught me?”

“Of course she did,” you said knowingly. “Your mum is wonderful, Fred. It’s you who’s the problem.”

Fred rolled his eyes as you made short work of his tie and shirt, throwing them off merrily across the room, and then you reveled in the sweet happiness of sinking your nails into his handsome chest.

Fred watched you merrily marking up his chest with kisses, bites, and scratches. As you let out little purrs and happy growls, he shook his head and murmured, “Seriously so weird.”

However, as you sucked at Fred’s chest, you were slowly undressing yourself – until your shirt fell open, revealing your shape and your cute little bra, a pretty lavender thing that pushed up your breasts just enough that you knew it would drive Fred crazy.

Sure enough, Fred changed his tune quite quickly. His eyes widened and he said hurriedly, “But fuck, it’s fine, baby, when you look like that…”

Fred made to touch you, clearly meaning to rip off your bra so that he could ravish your breasts. But you caught his hand in yours. Looking up at him, you whispered, “No. No touch.”

Fred made a face. “Again?”

“Well…” You slowly brought Fred’s hand to your lips. “I get to touch you first.” You opened your mouth just enough to let his finger slip into your mouth. Then, you sucked. “Mmpfh…”

Fred let out a breath. He swore that you had the prettiest eyes, and when you were looking up at him like that, with his finger in your mouth, in between your soft, pink lips… His own  mouth fell open slightly and he watched you rather dumbly.   

You smirked slightly. Speechless already?

As you sucked on his finger, you gave him your orders, only you masked them as soft and sweet requests. You whispered lowly, “Be a good boy and slowly reach into your pants. Now, stroke yourself. Make yourself nice and hard for me. Yes, for me.” Your voice accidentally slipped into a more aggressive tone towards the end, as you felt yourself getting quite excited.

Fred, whose eyes had slipped shut as he slowly pleasured himself to the sound of your voice, paused. He blinked.

You distracted him quickly, sucking on his finger once again and whispering softly, “Mm… Yes, like that… Get yourself allready for me. Show me how much you want me.”

Now panting slightly, Fred gripped his cock and pumped up and down quickly, getting himself all hard for you. His cute face was starting to get all red.

You held back a giggle as put on your softest voice, to ask him, “Tell me the truth: Are you thinking of me?”

Fred nodded – but it was a casual, brief nod.

“You are? You’re thinking of me?”

Fred nodded again – too quickly for your taste.

“And nothing but me?” you pressed.

Fred groaned, as he pumped his cock in his hand, but he nodded again, and more earnestly this time.

“Yeah?” you said, slowly and subtly encouraging him. “Are you picturing how you’re going to take me? How you’re going to make love to me? How you’re going to fuck me until you make me yours?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Fred huffed out, now fisting his cock furiously. “Gonna fuck you so hard, baby. You’re gonna be mine.” His voice became a deep growl on the last word.

“Mmm. And you’re going to cum in me, aren’t you?”

“Yes baby, I’m gonna cum hard in your pussy,” Fred moaned, now nodding non-stop.

“Okay,” you whispered softly. “I’d say you deserve some pussy now. Yes?”

“Yes,” Fred stressed, impatient. He opened his eyes and stared at you hungrily, his pupils blown wide with lust. He croaked out, “Now. Please.”

You smiled. “All right.” You slowly stripped your skirt off. As you did, you murmured, “Fred, you’re so gorgeous. Did you know that? I think you’re so handsome when you’re all flushed for me.”

“You do…?” Fred whispered, and his voice was hoarse. He watched you as you tossed your skirt to the side.

“Of course,” you said soothingly. Next, you slipped your fingers under the tiny slips of fabric lying over your hips and began to shimmy your panties down, little by little, until you revealed that you were wearing your little heart butt plug for him again.

Fred moaned audibly when he saw your little plug.

You lifted your legs a little, to show it off, and as you did, you whispered tellingly, “Oh, and Fred? I was wearing this all day today. Do you know why?”

Fred stared at your cute little ass and plug. Rather foolishly, he blurted out, “No.”

“Because I missed you,” you confessed. “As soon as I came back, I put my plug in, because it means that I’m… yours.”

“You’re mine? That’s what it means?” Fred reached out and pressed his finger against the plug.

“Ah…” You breathed out softly. “Yes, Fred…”

“Fuck,” Fred muttered, “that’s cute as hell.”  

You let one of your hands fall on top of his knee and you gently stroked his knee as you murmured, in a sweet, low voice, “Now, come here.” As you spoke, you opened up your legs, to make room for Fred. The heart-shaped nestled between in your pert ass glittered in the light as you pushed your thighs apart.

Fred kept staring at that little heart, until his mouth fell open.

Godric, he looks like such an idiot, you thought lovingly. Oh, Fred. You tapped on his knee again, to wake him up. “What are you doing? Come be with me.”

Fred shuffled forward on his knees. You nearly laughed out loud at how awkward he looked. He almost looks shy, you thought, and you felt so very fond of this sweet, naïve version of Fred.

However, when Fred was closer, he had no hesitation whatsoever in spreading his large, warm hands on your thighs and pinning them down immediately against the bed. Your breath escaped you as you suddenly felt yourself being held down against the bed.

Ah, traitor, you thought in your head, he always does this. He looks all pathetic and pitiful, and then as soon as he’s close enough to take control, he suddenly does his damned best to do so.

With your thighs so obviously split open by Fred, now your pussy was there for Fred to see – already glistening and all pink and – and – You felt embarrassed for a split second and nearly covered yourself with your hands. But you caught yourself and whispered in your head, Don’t get carried away now.

Sure enough, Fred said knowingly, “Well, look at that. Wet already? You little slut. You did miss me.”

You scowled slightly.

Fred smirked. “And here you were, making me think that I needed you more than you needed me, and that your little ‘plug’ speech was just so you could use me to get yours.”

You muttered, “Who said anything about needing anyone? Now, get on with it.”

“Godric, look at you, getting all shy.” Fred was fully teasing you now.

You glared at Fred, and he grinned back. He said cheekily, “You nearly got me, love. Nearly. But now I know. You weren’t just luring me in and playing me like a chump. No, you meant every word of what you said, didn’t you? I mean – look at you, laid out in bed like this, dressed up in some fancy new lingerie, (Fred tugged at the strap of your bra, and you indignantly pushed his hand away) wearing your cute little heart plug (Fred pressed it again, making you suddenly moan rather too softly for your taste), and with your pussy all wet for me (Fred touched you between your legs, pressing his fingers right up against your pussy, and you hurriedly grabbed his hand and stared up at him with desperate, wanting eyes). Merlin, you need me. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Telling me that you need me bad.”  

A wicked glint appeared in your eye. However, you pretended to relent. “Sure, Fred. I’m wet for you. I told you, you look so handsome. I can’t help myself – when you’re in bed with me, I get all wet.”

Fred suddenly sat up a little taller, with his shoulders back and his chest puffed out slightly.

Oh, look at him, all proud of himself, you snickered in your head. He’s so cute. You reached down and gently grasped his cock in your hand. It’s like he doesn’t remember what a whiny little puppy he becomes as soon as he’s inside me. Well, I can remind him of that.

Fred hissed slightly, as you let your hand run up and down his length. Slowly, you guided Fred’s cock to your pussy and slid the tip of his cock up and down against your wet slit. “‘I’m a complete, heartbroken slut for you. Is that what you want to hear?” You grasped his cock harder and jerked your hand up and down as you whispered rapidly – “Sir?”

“Fuck,” Fred moaned, and his hands slid up your thighs and onto your waist and he squeezed your waist, making you suddenly huff.

“Fuck,” Fred repeated. “Call me that again, baby. And hold still – ‘cause I’m - ” His voice gave out, and he huffed heavily as he suddenly felt all worked up over hearing you confess how much you wanted him and hearing you call him ‘sir.’

You nearly slipped and gave into your desire in that moment, which was to push Fred’s cock inside of you as fast as you could, because Merlin knew that that was what you wanted. You were a slut for him. But you made yourself stop, with Fred’s cock barely pressed to your pussyhole, and you murmured quietly, “But you ought to know one thing, sir -”

“W-What’s that?” Fred panted out.

You toyed with Fred’s cock, rubbing it against your pussyhole gently, but never letting him slip inside. “No matter how much I need you, you’re always going to need me more.”

“Well, I don’t know ‘bout that,” Fred protested, even as he squirmed with how badly he wanted to be inside you now. “I’d like to – baby, please, just put it in – to think we’re even.”

“Even?” You slowly shook your head up at him. “No, we’re not even.”

“Damn it, are you trying to be mean again?” Fred huffed out, with his hands in fists now as you kept dragging the tip of his cock up and down your pussyhole, without actually taking him in.

“I’m never mean.”

“You are, and if you can’t see it – baby, for fuck’s sake, take me in – if you – uhn – if you can’t see it, it’s only because it’s your default.”

“No,” you corrected him, speaking softly. “If you think I’m mean, it’s only because you’re being stupid, Fred.”

“I’m not stupid,” Fred said at once, sounding almost sullen.

“Well, then, willfully ignorant, which is worse,” you said flippantly. “But I’ll show you.”

“Show me what?” Fred said, now getting quite annoyed with you.

You stroked Fred’s cock in your hand again, as you answered, “How badly you need me.”

Fred groaned. Your hand felt so good wrapped around his cock, but he knew that your pussy would feel even better. Merlin, why isn’t she taking me in? I need to be inside her. Just look at her little pussy, all wet and waiting. Fuck, please!

“Just – Just – Can’t we do that some other time?” Fred huffed, trying desperately to swallow down his impatience.

However, you added fuel to the fire by looking up at him and innocently shaking your head. “Can’t, Fred,” you replied matter-of-factly. “Now’s the only convenient time. See, unlike you, I have real tasks to attend to after I play with you. I’ve got to go study, for one, and then I have prefect duties, and then I have to fold my laundry – and I like to line up all my socks before I roll them up all daintily with my hands - ”

Fred growled, “Listen here, you – you demon - ” But just then, you pushed in simply the tip of his cock inside of you.

Mmm, you moaned in your head.

Fred let out a soft whimper and he shook his head, completely disarmed by how good you felt squeezing around his cock, even if it was just the tip.

“Uhn…” Fred breathed out. “Mmm, yeah. Now deeper, baby, c’mon.”

“Fred, say you need me,” you whispered enticingly. “And mean it.”

Fred let out a pained groan. “S-Stop teasing me.”

But you shifted upwards, and you let the tip of Fred’s cock slip out of your pussy.

Fred groaned. “Baby, where are you going? C’mon, please - ”

You shook your head up at him. “First, admit how much you need me - ”

“All right, fine, I need you , I really fucking need you,” he suddenly reeled out. “C’mon – fuck – stop teasing me.”

You checked your grin as you replied, in a voice as light and soft as feathers, and in a tone that seemed so regretful, “Oh, Fred, you were so close, but you just weren’t sincere enough - ”

“Bloody hell!” Fred cursed at you. “What’s your prob - ?”

You put your finger up to his mouth, cutting him off. “Shush, no cursing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fred was nearly shaking all over, and his cock was so hard, it was almost painful.

You pretended not to notice as you sighed and said, in a disappointed voice, “Can’t pay attention, I see. Can’t even give his girlfriend ten seconds of his focus.”

“I swear to God - ” Fred growled, but you only smushed your hand against his mouth again, and more definitely this time.

“Dwevil,” Fred protested, against you and your hand.

“Fine. I’ll make my point another way.” You locked eyes with Fred and smiled pleasantly at him. "I was going to let you have me for as long as you wanted tonight, but I changed my mind." Then, you announced, in a voice that promised pleasure that was to die for, “I’m going to make you cum in three minutes, Fred Weasley."

[sheafrotherdon]

REPAIR SHOP 4 ELECTRIC BOGALOO?!?!? 👀👀👀👀👀

So, this chapter has two big arcs (beside the repair of a hand-painted jigsaw puzzle): Joe's gallery show, and why Booker did what he did. Writing the Booker arc is a slow process because I have to get every twist and turn pinned down just right. Joe's arc is easier.

Nicky collects [Joe's] to-do lists like shells washed up on a beach, fixes them to the fridge with magnets and tape and, once or twice, consolidates everything. He leaves the struck-through lists in a little pile on the coffee table and Joe doodles on them while he’s on the phone. Nicky takes each tiny piece of art and fixes it to the fridge door again—another gallery, he thinks, a kaleidoscope show of Joe’s preparation. There’s a cartoon Joe looking exasperated, with lightning bolts shooting from his head, and another where he looks at cartoon Nicky with comically-big hearts in his eyes. There are sketches of Andy, and Quynh, and a cartoon of Nile with her tongue between her teeth, wrestling a giant urn into artistic submission, a paintbrush stuck behind her ear. There are pictures of dogs and cats and a starling likeness of the pigeons that like to sit on their windowsill, and sometimes there are simply words in beautiful script or jagged relief. It's a source of wonder to watch Joe settle, moment by moment, into ever greater confidence about the show. Now that the first risk of being turned down by every gallery he approached is behind him, Joe seems steadier, as if he’s planted his feet and found his bearings; as if he can lean into the wind of whatever’s next and not be bowled over. When nerves hit, he draws them as cartoonish monsters with pointed claws and wide-open mouths, towering over a tiny Joe who shakes his fist in their faces. Twice Nicky finds himself rendered on a scrap of paper with a sword and shield, Joe behind him, facing down the monsters on his behalf. In both drawings, Joe’s beaming. Recognizing the growing breadth of Joe’s ease makes Nicky feel something hot and tight in his chest—pride, maybe, mixed with the astonishing fact of knowing Joe intimately, and being known intimately in return. It makes him light-headed with happiness, has him backing Joe up against the kitchen counter when they get home from work and kissing him slowly, savoring every little hitch in Joe’s breathing, the span of his warm hands at his waist, the texture of the hair at the back of his neck, soft against Nicky’s fingertips.

[ihatepissvortex]

Hey, is your cat one of those werewolf cats? If so, those cats suffer from really bad cystic acne. There has been a post floating around, warning about the breed.

Pickles is some sort of lykoi. no idea what the breeder called it specifically, but the breeder was a veterinarian and seemed to be pretty sure that we were getting a healthy cat - the only reason we ended up with Pickles is because someone else bailed on adopting him.

i have all of his health papers and lineage trees and shit, his mother and all of his siblings were all fully haired. pickles himself still has a pretty full coat - especially compared to the more hairless cats that tend to get acne problems. he’s mostly thin on his paws and his face. his main problem factors we were warned about are waxy buildup around his eyes and ears where his fur is thin, and oily buildup on his claws. we wipe him pretty regularly and he gets baths often as well.

with that being said the main source of that info does seem to just be that tumblr post - a post that came out a week or two AFTER we got the cat, so there’s nothing i can do about it even if i wanted to lol. my girlfriend wanted the goofy looking cat and i didn’t really have any reason to stop her. cat breeds typically don’t suffer the downfalls that breeding dogs do - the average doodle is a genetic abomination with more to worry about than any of these “novel” cats. there are no studies indicating that this is a consistent problem inherent to the breed - the breed literally hasn’t been around long enough to draw any conclusions like that, and what defines the boundaries of this breed isn’t clear either. it’s definitely something i’ll look out for, but i’m not overly concerned about it at the moment.

[stepswowdsen]

Idate (WATGBS AU) Doodle WIPs

We are cooking!!!

This is our WATGBS AU’s version of Idate, a buff DILF dad. He wears blue eyeliner and earrings, has scars, and orca markings/patterns more realistic to actual IRL orcas.

Oh yeah, I wanted him to have a big coat cape jacket that hangs off his shoulders (like some of my faves, Douman, Hibari, and Xanxus)

How I draw Idate is what I imagine him to look like in our AU ^^

(Though I’ll fix the orca markings whenever I refine the sketch, since it’s still a rough sketch right now)

I made Idate themed after the black sun in our AU, and Tatsu is themed after the moon. And Tatsu has pink/red eyeliner and star and moon earrings. So after he meets Tatsu, he starts wearing blue eyeliner and star and black sun earrings to match with her <3 🖤🤍❤️

I quickly scribbled the earrings, but I think it’s also neat if Idate’s black sun earrings also look like a vortex... A void/abyss. I’m not sure what colour to make the earrings... It’s ok as yellow, but I’m also wondering if I should limit the amount of colours used in his colour palette. Silver or white could also work 

Me and my black sun faves!!! ☀️🖤🐈‍⬛️

(Points at Douman, Judar, Idate) 

If you ask, “Did you guys seriously make an entire ass fantasy world based off a character that shows up a grand total of 3 times in the OG WATGBS as short cameos, and the rest of your sea creatura faves”

Answer: Yes!

In the OG WATGBS, Funa-verse Idate is a violent orca that goes around on strolls, acting solely for his own pleasure to entertainment himself, based off the orca-like behaviour of playing with food by tormenting other sea creatures.

In our WATGBS AU, Idate is the Lord of the Underworld. His character theme is “Void/Emptiness.” He has Void powers and can create voids. He’s the evil protag of our AU. We created a whole story for him and the other WATGBS AU charas. (99% of our WATGBS AU is just lore that my friends and I made up <3)

And it’s so fun to write for an evil meow meow mf protag 🤭

Friend: Sen's Idate is so fucking hot 😳🖤

Me: Waaaah thank you!!! My only [art] goal in life is to be able to make my faves look hot

I strive to make my cat cots look hot!!! If my cats look simpable in my art style, then my job is a success

My masc faves are all my cat sons to me, so for me, “hot” is “Omg SO pretty” as aesthetic attractions 

As usual, some rambles are under the cut

I did a colour edit last year of Idate’s OG art to match closer to what I imagined for our WATGBS AU’s Idate, and balanced the colours for my own drawings. When I do colour edits, I pick the colours based on what I think looks good. They help serve as colour guides for future drawings. 

I love using cool colours like cool blue (teal is really nice for colouring black hair) and cool purple to colour black/monochrome colour schemes ^^ 

Friend 2: Oml, seriously thank you for fixing the colours and skin tones on Funa's designs, among tons of other things

It always bothered me, why the fuck are her charas all pale like paper bro??? LIKE THEY'RE LITERALLY PAPER

Me: Yeah the colours are so bland and dull in Funa’s version bruhh and Idate’s orca tail markings (flank patch and saddle patch) being missing in his design bothered me so much wtf

Source: Emma Luck, marine biologist

Cats and orcas are my fave animals <3 Orcas because of this god forsaken AU LMAO /pos /endearing 

I love our AU with all my heart

So I love looking into orcas as a hobbyist, and made changes to Idate’s design accordingly

And yeah, Idate is one of the only charas where the white skin still “works” since he’s descended from a demon and has a black/white monochrome colour scheme, but it’s so weird, it makes the charas look like paper

Like if only a few charas had it, ok fine but IT’S LITERALLY EVERYONE ADSKLSDKLLDSKL

[dindjarindiaries]

Mandoctober - October 10: Ad’ika

summary: The more Din starts to call the baby ad’ika, the closer they become, until they truly feel as if they’re father and son.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) & the child

warnings: pure wholesomeness and a ~pinch~ of canonical-type violence (incl. blood)

rating: G

word count: 1.448k

mandoctober masterlist

october 10: ad’ika

It’s been a long day without the little green menace.

Din smiles beneath his helmet at the thought of getting to see him again as he ascends the ramp leading up to the Crest. He hates nothing more than leaving the baby on the ship, especially by himself. Din wishes he could have the baby with him at all times, but he knows it’s too dangerous to bring him on jobs. Without a caretaker, his best shot is to leave the baby in the Crest.

As soon as he secures the quarry away, Din opens the baby’s compartment, finding him standing there with eyes wide and full of excitement. The baby coos loudly, his little arms reaching out for Din. His heart warms within his chest like never before.

“Hey, you little womp-rat,” Din greets with nothing but warmth, picking up the baby and smiling wider as he watches him snuggle up comfortably in his arms. The baby coos again, still loud and bubbly as he offers an awkward smile up at Din. “Are you excited to see me, too?”

The baby keeps smiling, his little hands reaching for the Mythosaur necklace around Din’s neck as he begins to suck and nibble on it. Din chuckles to himself, keeping the baby tight against his chest as he ascends to the cockpit.

By the time he’s taken off and gotten the Crest into hyperspace, he notices the baby’s close to falling asleep in his arms. Din removes his pauldron to make it more comfortable for him, watching as his large eyelids begin to droop more and more. He lifts a gloved hand to run his thumb over the baby’s small forehead, watching his eyes close all the way. Din smiles. “Goodnight, ad’ika.”

The baby’s ears twitch a little at the new name, causing Din to chuckle again.

“Little one.”

Although his eyes are still closed, the baby nestles further into Din’s shoulder at that—causing Din’s heart to nearly burst through his beskar as he keeps him close.

Din keeps calling the baby by the nickname ad’ika, more and more until the baby recognizes it. Din doesn’t even realize this has happened until they’re outside the Crest stretching their legs on some backwater planet, Din leaning against the hatch as the baby messes around in the grass. He’s watching intently, his hand hovering above his holster and preparing for the first sign of danger.

Yet, the only danger inflicted is that of the baby upon a frog.

“Ad’ika!” Din calls, standing up straight from his place by the ship. The baby turns to him quickly, dropping the frog and staring with a concerned gaze.

That’s when it really hits Din: the child responds to his nickname perfectly, now, almost just like a name. He approaches his son calmly, picking him up and making him face his visor. “We don’t mess with the frogs. Remember?”

The baby’s ears start to droop lower on his head. Din sighs lightly, hating to see the baby so down. He reaches out a gloved finger to press against the baby’s nose, causing him to giggle and coo as he makes grabby-hands towards Din. He brings his son closer to his helmet, letting his little green fingers make the same motion against his visor. They both laugh as Din shakes his head, finally moving to bring them both inside the Crest again.

One of the next times Din calls the baby like that, it’s in much more of a panic.

Din’s returned to the Crest to notice with horror that it’s been broken into. He drops his quarry in place and runs forward, making his way inside as he draws his blaster. Everything seems in order, though it’s unusually silent, and Din can feel his blood turning to ice in his veins as he heads towards the child’s compartment.

“Ad’ika?” Din calls gently, opening the compartment just to have his heart fall into his stomach. The baby’s not there. His grip on his blaster tightens as he looks around the ship. “Ad’ika?” When he gets no response, he starts to look around more frantically, searching the hull and throwing anything that’s in his way. “Ad’ika!”

He freezes when he hears a little whimper, his heart stalling in his chest as he tries to search for the source. That source soon comes to him when he hears something drop near the ladder, turning around to see a hunter with the baby in his arms.

“Let him go,” Din nearly growls, his rasp tight as he points the blaster at him.

“Drop the blaster, Mando” the hunter demands, setting the baby in front of him as a little shield. “Or else you’ll be shooting him.”

The baby whimpers again, breaking Din’s heart as he looks at him. “I’m here, ad’ika.” Din tries to think through his options, watching the baby’s ears droop low to his sides.

And then, out of nowhere, the baby bites the hunter’s hand, causing him to drop him to the floor. Din immediately seizes the opportunity to blast him, also making him fall to the floor as he darts forward to check on the baby. The baby releases a few soft cries as Din picks him up gently, rocking him and shushing him as he holds him tight.

“I’m so sorry, ad’ika,” Din murmurs. “I won’t let this happen again. I promise.”

The baby winces and hides his face in the cloth of Din’s shoulder, causing Din to hold him even closer as he rests his helmet against his tiny forehead.

Din truly realizes the depth of his bond with the baby the day he manages to get back to the Crest while just barely hanging on to his consciousness.

He nearly has to drag himself up to the hatch before he collapses heavily in the hull, his chest moving irregularly as he tries in vain to catch his breath. The ship spins around him, making him sick to his stomach as he closes his eyes and releases a painful groan. The blood from his wound has started to seep through his gloves—the attempt to contain it also being in vain.

And then, Din hears that soft coo from his side. He moves his helmet to watch as the baby approaches, his eyes wide in fear and his ears drooped to the floor as he notices Din’s state. He can’t leave him here. But Din doesn’t think he has much of a choice.

“I’m… sorry, ad’ika,” Din mumbles, his rasp faint and broken. The baby’s eyes well up with tears before he observes Din further, his ears perking up a bit when he notices where his gloves are. The baby’s tiny hands try to push Din’s away, but he shakes his helmet. “N-No, ad’ika, don’t look there. I’m… it’s… all right.”

The baby doesn’t listen. Instead, he gets Din to move his hands, whimpering a bit when he sees the deep wound and the blood that surrounds it. Din watches as his eyes fall closed in focus, his little hands settling on the area as his strange energy begins to fill the hull. If Din had it in him, he’d stop him, not wanting him to hurt himself somehow by healing him. But all he can do is lay back in awe, watching as the baby completely closes up and heals the wound. This time, the baby just sits back when he’s done, not even falling asleep as he looks at his father with hope.

Din smiles—deciding to show the baby that as he sits up and slides off his helmet. The baby’s ears perk up at the sight of his father’s face, a loud coo coming from him as Din discards his bloody gloves and reaches to pick him up. They both exchange a warm smile as Din presses his forehead to the baby’s, closing his eyes as he feels the little hands grab at his face. “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, ad’ika.” I know your name as my child, little one.

Although he doesn’t know what the words mean, his son seems to get the implication of them, cooing happily as he moves to bury his little face in Din’s neck. He smiles wider and pulls his little one close, content with the idea of never having to let him go.

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin @nettyklecan @mistermiraclee @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @smellssharpies @catfishingmorales @wille-zarr @kaetastic @saltywintersoldat @agentpike @mrsparknuts @readsalot73 @yespolkadotkitty @mandhoelorian @lilangeldevil006 @roxypeanut @phoenixhalliwell @hail-doodles @randomness501 @this-cat-is-dea @hopplessdreamer @paintballkid711 @dracos-jedi-marvel @whataenginerd​ @katlikeme​ @petertingless​ @propertyofdindjarin​ @theocatkov​ @bisexual-space-slut​ @cyaredindjarin​ @arkofblake​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @motleymoose​ @mrschiltoncat​ @f0rever15elf​ @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache @rogueonestan​ @goldafterglow​ @milleniumvalcon @badassbaker​ @pancakepike​ @sunbeambby13​ @mymindisawhirpool​ @antmnwasp​ @capbrie​ @freak-of-nature2002​ @arabellathorne​ @mandilflorian​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @beiroviski​ @darthadeline​ @cheriedjarin​ @edencherries​ @mstgsmy​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @aliciaxglasgow​ @poesflygirl​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @dee-rosemary​ @ceebeetheartdork​ @kiwi-the-first

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[catgrass-official]

introduction post (kinda)

originally, i wanted to post this alongside another drawing but i’ve come to realize that time is a construct and anatomy hates me just as much as i hate it (i’ll hopefully get it done this weekend, though!)

so, hey!! i’m mini, the artist behind this thing - i go by they/them pronouns and you might already know me due to the semi-professional bullshittery that occurs on my main blog, @theynanigans and since i have too many silly headcanons + ideas for doodles, i’ve decided to center my attention on a larger project for once and put my horrible little creations out there for the world to see!

this whole thing started because a very dear friend of mine, also known as reese the gay, caused my spiritual awakening by showing me the glorious work of art that is catboy therion... and now i’m on a mission to make it canon. /hj

the basics

- for now it’s mostly catboy therion and dogboy alfyn, as you probably could’ve guessed?? - but before you ask, it’s not only them. the other travelers also get goofy little animal features but i won’t reveal the details yet because i am a chaos gremlin and love keeping everyone in suspense :^) - this is probably also going to be the gayest octopath AU you’ll find out there and i have no regrets whatsoever - the name of this blog was chosen because: 1. therion and alfyn are the poster children of this project since i can’t stop drawing them (though primrose, h’aanit and ophilia were close contenders) 2. it’s a play on alfyn’s last name... and a cat pun  3. cat grass is actually good for dogs, too! 4. according to some sources i found, it can also be made into a juice/smoothie that can be ingested by humans + contains a bunch of vitamins and other nutrients?? 5. no matter if the above is true or not, alfyn planting some for therion is wholesome as heck and therefore canon in this AU

what you need to know (for now)

alfyn: - the ultimate friend. the most precious pal. the goodest boy. - he’s literally a golden retriever already - all i did was add the ears + tail to reflect his personality - he’s baby.

therion: - cat. - i actually had to do some research for him because i began to realize that my knowledge about cats was rather limited compared to my understanding of canines (even though i’m technically not even a dog person?? somehow i just happened to gravitate towards them a bit more until now) - and from what i could gather online, the only cat breed that can have green eyes and white fur at the same time is the turkish angora... which i 100% approve of. - seriously, look at their tails - he’s the fluffiest man in town (and he hates it)

the others: - like i said, i’m not gonna spoil anything yet - haha jk... unless? - okay. you get a tiny sneak peek: ...tressa is a squirrelgirl :^)

the rest is temporarily a secret (and there’s a lot to uncover)... so stay tuned! and prepare to watch me suffer as my planning + time management skills continue to deteriorate

have a nice day!!

[glamfellens]

alistair headcanons: cats absolutely love him, in denerim he cant eat anything out in the market bc he’ll end up giving half of it to strays. He can’t draw to save his life, except for roses. He smells like cedar and a warm fireplace.

bro im gonna cry bro

he talks about having a Very Large Cat... but yes lmfao he sees their little ears and paws and hes like aw man...here!! have it all!!

okay okay he can’t draw to save his life but that doesnt stop him from doodling all over his corypheus/venatori research that he ends up passing onto the advisors and the inquisitor and they’re like... what the fuck is this (these doodles are absolutely of his wife ft plenty of roses)

a warm fireplace... yes... personally i love the smell of wood smoke and i imagine when fires are ur main source of heat that would cling to his clothes and his hair a lot of the time

[nanasarea]

Mermade IX

 Prompt: When Renjun and his friends decide to go to Seirina Island, he accidentally meets you, a literal fish out of water

Genre: you know when i said “mostly fluff”,  this is the other part, the one that isn’t “mostly”

Pairing: mermaid!reader x renjun

Word count: 1k

Tag list: @moloprint​  @emijjk  @peachykrystal  @multimulti-posts @jaeminsmainbitch  @bumblebeenct​  @junglewoos​

main m.list / series m.list / mermade m.list 

i  ii  iii iv  v  vi  vii viii  ix  

“You can’t.” he said “Why not?” You asked, giving him a confused look as he took a deep breath and said.

“Because I like you.”

“Because you what?” You asked “Because I like you, I really do. I know how insensitive and selfish it sounds for me ask you to stay only because of me. I know you miss your pod and I know they miss you, but can’t you stay? At least a little longer?” He asked “Renjun, I-I don’t know what to say, I like you too, I really so and I wish you had said it sooner, because I really do like you.” You started, while holding onto his hand “but my pod, they’re family, I can’t just say no to them.” You added.

“We could have been together for so long if we both had just confessed then, huh?” He asked, chuckling “That seems to be the case.” You said, chuckling to hide the tear that slipped from your eye. “We’re idiots.” He said “We are.” You agreed, before finally getting the courage to grab him by his shirt and pull him closer and thus, kissing him.

“You mean to tell me I missed a whole bunch of that, just because I was a scary cat?” He asked after you pulled away “Pretty much.” You said, both of you smiling like the idiots you were. “Hey, let me take you on one date before you leave at least.” He said “Of course.” You said before quickly kissing him again.

That night, you went on a walk along the beach, he brought some chalk so you drew on the sidewalk for a bit. You both agreed to do stupid doodles, but Renjun went behind your back and drew a masterpiece. “Did you have to show off? I already like you.” You teased “Sorry, love.” He smiled, his ears turning a light shade of pink. 

With both of you proud of your artworks, one of you more proud than the other, you ended up making your way to the beach and thankfully for both of you, you were the only ones there. The only light source were the stars and the crescent moon above as you joked about going for a swim. 

“Well, let’s go.” He said, taking his shirt off “I wasn’t serious.” You laughed “I was.” He winked “You could never catch up to me, I can speed swim, remember?” You reminded, winking back at him. “I’ll just have to try my best then.” He smiled while taking his pants off. 

You ended up swimming for a whole hour before making your way back to the house. You had to go up for air multiple times, because of Renjun but you also swam with some dolphins and showed him some of your underwater magic skills, all of which made him very impressed and call you out on you showing off this time.

When you got back, you gave him a goodnight kiss, which he insisted wasn’t enough to keep him from sleeping in the same bed as you one last time. “One last cuddle session, now that I can cuddle you with no shame, I shall cuddle you with no shame.” He laughed while pulling you closer to him. 

The next day, you had your last breakfast, your last morning swim, your last lunch and while you wanted to bring everything you had bought, in your time on land, with you, you couldn’t and apologized multiple times to Renjun, for having to waste his money on these thing, to which he only smiled and kissed you before telling you “At least it’s something to remember you by.” 

You went to the island to say goodbye as you didn’t want anyone to see you turn in the middle of the day, but you took a boat ride with Renjun so he could go back safely. You made your way to the moon pool and started to cry, not being able to hold it anymore. “I guess this is it.” You said, fighting your tears “Hey, don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry.” He said, pulling you into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you.” He sighed “I’m gonna miss you too.” You replied, your words being drowned out by the sobs.

“Hey, think about it for a second. Aren’t we lucky to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard? Some people would kill for what we have.” He smiled “had.” You corrected, the crying making your words inaudible. “Please don’t make it harder than it needs to be.” He said.

“Hey, how do we know this is goodbye anyway? Maybe I’ll see you in another life. One where we’re both cats!” You explained “Of course, I’ll spend all 9 lives with you, I promise.” He smiled “How can you be so sure?” You laughed “ The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected, therefor our souls will meet again, once we get reincarnated as cats. We’re mermade for each other” He laughed “You’re an idiot.” You laughed before kissing him.

“I have to go now.” You said after pulling away “I’ll visit if I can!” You added, happily before jumping into the pool “You better.” He jokingly warned before crouching down and giving you one last kiss before waving goodbye.

Renjun didn’t expect you to come back ever, let along to come visit every year. Almost like clockwork, you arrived for a few hours and went back to your pod, on your anniversary of meeting, but soon the visits turned from yearly to every second year and so on. The visits became more rare as time went by, but that didn’t stop Renjun, he always looked at the ocean and smiled, when he was your tail.

He never knew what happened to you or what you were up to, anything to be honest. Those hours you usually spent just talking about the old day, drawing on the sidewalk or getting cranberry boosters from rikki’s, you didn’t talk much about your own lives. He always wondered, did you move on, did you find someone new, were you okay, all these questions kept running around in his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask, he didn’t want to waste his time with you.

Eventually, there came a time, when he never got to see you again, but he always stared at Seirina Island and hoped that, maybe, just maybe, he would get to see your tail again.

a/n: and so, renjun and your story, like my 2nd series,ends, but all good things must come to an end, right?

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Coffee ——————————————

Following the move in, things are still a little tense in the apartment. So Aiden decides to try and get on Journal’s good side. What better way to do so than with coffee?

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

At long last, it’s another chapter!!! I’m following the dialogue bits in “warming up,” and this was inspired by the second and third sets there. Gotta get these roomies on track to friendship. I got this finished in 2 days, but it’s been in existence for awhile, so! I’m glad to finally get it out here lskdjfs. Hope y’all enjoy!

                                                    ————

Coffee. Black as pitch, with just a touch of creamer. Not the expensive stuff, mind you. Just what one can get from a certain widely known coffee farm. Rindbell, if a familiar remembered right. And the creamer comes from the same place. Make sure it’s warm and well mixed. Keep it ready for breakfast, noon, and night. Anytime is a good time for this coffee. It’s a comfort, an energy source, and a favorite all wrapped into one. Easy to tell, as it’s what’s filled a skittish sorcerer’s cup for a few weeks now. Enough was gone that he was running dangerously low. The gentle scrape of fingers on the bottom of a can had greeted the apartment consistently for a couple days. And the sorcerer? Well, he wasn’t saying anything. His name might’ve been Journal, but he wasn’t about to be an open book. And he’d already established how he didn’t want his roommate worrying about him at all. “I’m headed to do some apartment shopping,” Aiden had said, a few days earlier. Journal had barely spared him a glance. It was one of the few times Aiden caught the sorcerer out of his room. He’d been making coffee, of course. The questor himself hadn’t touched the coffee maker thus far. It was one of the agreements they’d silently come to. Journal had the coffee machine. Aiden didn’t use it. That was how things were. So far. … And Journal didn’t seem to have picked up Aiden’s hint. He decided to be a little more direct. “... Do you... want anything? While I’m out?” Aiden ventured. Journal had fixed him with a withering look. “I don’t need you buying anything for me,” he replied tersely. Aiden quirked a brow, holding up his hands. “Alright. That’s fine. Just… figured I’d ask.” “... Whatever.” And so he hadn’t gotten anything. But now, with Journal’s stash coming to an end, the situation had changed. The sorcerer was twitchy and out even less. Cleary, he was trying to save what he had left. He didn’t want to ask for more, either. But he needed it. Aiden wasn’t about to let Journal go without it. He didn’t need to know his roommate well to see how big of a deal the drink was. And maybe. Just maybe. He could finally get on his good side.

Aiden was up early. He usually was, but it was especially important today. He had errands to run, and his roommate wasn’t one who liked to sleep in. Pulling his cloak around his shoulders, he cast a look around the living room. It was barely deserving of its name. The curtains were drawn, barely letting the sun’s first rays inside. The bookshelf was half full. All the novels that remained were shelved neatly. A news scroll was the only thing on the coffee table. One of the armchairs remained utterly untouched. If he hadn’t been sitting on the couch reading last night, he would’ve sworn the place was still waiting for its tenants. It was… discouraging. But he wasn’t going to give up. Not yet, anyways. “You ready to go, Roo?” the questor called quietly. There was an answering meow from the hall. The indigo cat familiar came into sight a moment later. Rubbing at his eyes, Roo yawned loudly. His patched cloak hung loosely around his neck, and his tail dragged against the ground. It was leaving a little paint trail as he made his way to his originator’s side. He sort of just… stood there. Blinking sleepily. “... mnnh… yeah,” Roo mumbled. “... les… lesgo…” Aiden chuckled softly. The familiar was always droopy in the mornings. “C’mere, roodle doodle,” he said gently, taking his paw. “We won’t be out long.” “Wha’eveh yeh say, dad…” Aiden let Roo out first before locking the door behind them. He had no doubt that his roommate would be fine if he didn’t, but the younger sorcerer preferred a locked door. Hopefully that would change sometime. I’d love having visitors over someday. For now, though, they were off to the store. Down the steps and out the front doors they went. Roo woke up more once they were outside. His tail twitched anxiously, and his ears pressed back against his head. He was walking as close to Aiden as he could manage. Aiden gave him a few reassuring pats. The kitty’s nerves were nothing new. The area was still unfamiliar, after all. “Not far to the store,” he hummed. “And we’re only picking up a few things.” “... ‘s theah gonna b-be… um… a l-lotta people…?” Roo whispered, eyes flicking from place to place. “Probably not. We’re up early enough to miss most people, but late enough for stores to be open,” Aiden explained. “... mnn… okay…” Roo took a couple shaky breaths. The tension slowly eased from his shoulders. “... okay. W-we got this.” “That’s the spirit bud…”

Shopping indeed went quickly. It took a little to find Journal’s preferred coffee, but Roo’s excellent memory had come in handy. Nothing like a detail oriented familiar to remember exactly what labels look like. Aiden also snagged a couple other things while they were out. Biscuits, for roo, and some veggies, for dinner that night. But that was neither here nor there. The purchase that mattered was the coffee. And what mattered now was getting home on time…

The originator and familiar found themselves on their doorstep once again. Aiden fumbled around in his belt pack for the key, grumbling under his breath. He still wasn’t used to keeping track of such things. At least he could manage holding a grocery bag and biscuit box in one arm. “Did yeh drop it?” Roo asked, brows furrowed as he shifted a bag of coffee and carrots in his arms. “I-I don’ see it on the floor out heah…” “No no, I’m sure I have it,” Aiden sighed, checking his cloak pocket. “I distinctly remember putting it away. What a time to remember my organization skills are lacking- ah!” His fingers closed around the small bit of metal, drawing it out. He gave Roo a wink as he stuck it in the lock. “Good thing my memory’s not as cluttered as everything else, eh?” The comment drew a giggle from the paint cat. Aiden nudged open the door, and Roo went scampering inside. Though Aiden held his breath going in, a relieved sigh was the only thing that came out. He could hear some noise from down the hall, but that was alright. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen, from what he could see. Aside from Roo and himself, that is. Good. They’d made it in time. “Take the coffee to the kitchen, bud,” he called softly, throwing his cloak onto the rack.  “Already on it!” Roo chirped. He quickly skittered into the kitchen, his originator right behind him. Aiden busied himself putting away the other groceries as Roo climbed cabinets for the coffee container. He made sure to keep an eye on the kitty, though. All he had to do was dump the bag into the tin. But still. Roo was small. And the cabinets were high up. Plenty of opportunity for things to fall on him- or the kitty himself to fall. The sound of coffee beans gently clinking against metal rang out soon enough. From Roo’s little “mrrp!” it was louder than he’d expected. And… did it mask the noises in the hall? Or had they stopped? Aiden snuck a glance out the kitchen doorway as the beans’ clinking slowed to a stop. For a moment- just a moment- he thought he saw someone looking out from the hall. But his glance was over in an instant, and he’d nearly dropped a bag of celery. The questor sighed to himself as he got it set back in the cold cabinet. Hopefully what he saw meant their roommate would join them for breakfast. Turning back to the kitchen, he saw Roo half hanging out of another cabinet. The sight made him snort. Whatever he was digging for, he had several boxes on the verge of tipping onto the floor. He crossed the room quickly. “What’re you up to over there, bud?” Aiden chuckled, lifting him out. “I’m gettin breakfast!” Roo mewed indignantly. He crossed his arms, pouting as he hung in Aiden’s grasp. “I’m gonna have some’a the marshmella cereal!” “You sure you need sugar first thing in the morning?” Aiden asked, one brow raised. “Oh, c’mon! It’s not like I’m askin fer catnip!” Roo huffed. “Mmh… Fair enough,” Aiden nodded. He set him down gently, chuckling as Roo beamed. “Go have a seat. I’ll get it. You nearly knocked everything out of here just trying to get the box.” “Yeah, well, there’s no stools on the counter.” “Also fair.” Aiden shook out some cereal and marshmallows into one bowl for roo, and some cornflakes into another for himself. A snap or two left a milk bottle in his hand, and he poured some milk into the two bowls. He stuck a spoon in each before turning around again. It was when he carried them to the table, though, that he noticed someone standing in the kitchen doorway. Journal. He didn’t look any different than usual. Dark clothes, bright leggings, carefully smoothed and dutifully styled hair, pulled back in a ponytail. Though he still managed to look somewhat disheveled. It was probably the raccoon’s mask of sleeplessness on his face. The sorcerer seemed to hover where he was, uncertain about coming in. With the way his eyes flicked from the originator and familiar to the rest of the room, Aiden could tell he was still nervous. That was fine. He just gave him a gentle, warm smile, as he always did.  “Good morning Journal,” he hummed, setting the bowls on the table. Roo gave a quiet thank you before waving at Journal. “N-nice to see yeh again...” Roo said softly. “... yeah. ‘Morning...” Journal mumbled. “... you too…” There was a beat of silence as they all looked at each other. Then the two turned to their cereal as their nervous roommate crossed the room. They’d give him his space. And if he didn’t feel like talking more, that was ok. Didn’t make the silence any less awkward, but still. Aiden couldn’t help but sneak a glance or two at Journal as he reached for his coffee container. Taking it down, the younger sorcerer fumbled with it. A look of surprise flitted across his face. Seems he hadn’t been expecting the weight. He set it down carefully, his surprise turning to bafflement once he took the lid off. It was filled to the top with coffee beans. Across the table, Roo was hiding a smile. Aiden hid one of his own. He’d wait for Journal to say something, though. Sure enough, he spoke up. “... did… did you… get me more coffee?” Journal asked hesitantly. “Hm? Oh, yes.” Aiden looked up before nodding. “I grabbed some while Roo and I were out this morning.” “... huh…” Journal eyed the coffee beans for a moment. Reaching in, he pulled out the freshly emptied bag. It brought a whole new layer of delighted confusion to his gaze. “Wh- how- how’d you know what brand of coffee I like???” “You drink enough that I figured you’d like black,” Aiden shrugged. “... that, and Roo saw the label. He helped me pick the right brand.” Roo chuckled timidly when Journal looked at him. Journal blinked, silent for a moment. “... oh. Well. Uh. Thanks,” he said haltingly. “No problem,” Aiden smiled. Journal gave him a small smile in return as he went back to his coffee making. The silence that followed was different than earlier. This was less tense. More… companionable. Just the quiet sounds of morning breakfast time with three roommates. It was… nice. For the first time, all three of them could admit to that.

When Journal finally had his coffee in a mug, Aiden and Roo were finishing up their cereal. “Good coffee?” Aiden inquired. Journal gave a small nod. “Good,” Aiden smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” “W… will we see yeh again today…?” Roo piped up. He fidgeted with his paws, looking shyly hopeful. “Besides when you come for more coffee, that is,” Aiden joked gently. Journal was silent for a bit. Considering. He swirled his drink as he looked between the two. Eventually he shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.” Heaving a sigh, he started off towards the hall. “Depends how much work I get done today.” “F-faieh enough,” Roo sighed. “I-I hope that goes well…” “I’ll second that,” Aiden nodded. “Again, it was nice to see you, Journal.” Journal looked over his shoulder one last time as he stood before the hallway. “... yeah. You… you too,” he replied. “... thanks again.” “Not a problem, Journal.”

As Journal headed down the hall, Aiden and roo were still smiling. They’d done good this time. And, with some luck, AIden thought, I’ll get Journal out and about yet. For now… they had coffee. That was as good a start as any.

[ducktracy]

54. the organ grinder (1933)

release date: april 8th, 1933

series: merrie melodies

director: rudolf ising

starring: n/a

don’t worry, the cartoon isn’t as terrifying as the title lets on (you can imagine my surprise when i briefly forgot what an organ grinder was, thinking this was going to be a cartoon about a hungry cannibal or something LOL). we follow the antics of the organ grinder and his monkey, entertaining the citizens of the street.

an italian man and his monkey prowl the streets of the city, the man grinding away at the organ while the monkey bounds around, chattering. an offscreen whistle calls the attention of the monkey, who scales a lamppost to meet the source of the sound. a woman is sticking her head out of her apartment window, holding a coin. the monkey takes off his hat with his tail and graciously accepts the coin, sliding back down the lamppost to his master.

as typical for a merrie melody, the man launches into “the organ grinder” (i can’t seem to find a commercial recording—sorry!) while his monkey partner continues to run around him.

the monkey comes across a hanging bunch of bananas outside of a store front, and helps himself. love this gag of the monkey peeking the banana with zippers, edible banana grams! i always got bored with the game itself, i just liked the banana holding all of the letter pieces LOL.

while the duo traipse down the streets, we get an inside look of one of the apartments. a woman is washing a giant sweater that’s defined to look like it suits a burly man, her “what a man!” asserting that hypothesis. she overhears the organ grinder and sings some bars herself—i love her belty, raspy singing voice! she’s rather large, so it fits. i also love that above shot of the streets. is that beautiful or what? these hand painted backgrounds just can’t be beat. i appreciate the UPA style a lot, but i wish looney tunes had kept the lush backgrounds as they entered the 50s!

another woman across from her grabs a coin and signals for the monkey to come to her, the organ grinder urging him on. there are some very fun visuals of the monkey scaling the towering building, using curtains to propel himself upward. these are the kinds of things i’d imagine myself doing as a kid, using household items as creative devices to swing upward and do whatever, so i’m always glad to see stuff like this—glad to know i’m not the only one who thought about that!

the monkey makes his way to the woman and accepts the coin, stuffing it in his pocket and tipping his hat. he jumps into a pair of underwear hanging on the clothesline and reels himself forward to the voluptuous woman from before, and accepts her tip. i’ll always say this, but the music is beautifully jazzy and upbeat! they always did a good job of making each merrie melody an earworm (well... save for one step ahead of my shadow. i read that buddy the gob is a remake/recycle of that, so that’ll be... interesting to see. also friz freleng’s first independent directorial credit).

to get down, the monkey climbs onto a pair of hanging socks, which tears beneath his weight. he plummets to the ground, a few awnings breaking his fall as he bounces beneath them, finally landing in a pair of pajamas that he gets out by unbuttoning the butt flap. the gags and the animation are so fun and imaginative! these are all the things i dreamed of doing as a kid. very nice to watch!

hurrying back to the organ grinder, the monkey gives him the coins he collected to put in the cup, prompting the organ grinder to pinch his cheeks. i should add that the monkey’s name is tony. that’s great LOL. nothing like an italian guy in new york city (or a facsimile of nyc) parading the streets with his monkey tony.

suddenly, a group of children crowd around the organ grinder. the organ grinder instructs tony to do some tricks, instructing him to dance and to shake his little can. tony shakes his ass in front of the children (love it), and the organ grinder quickly stops him (“what’s-a matta you?”) giving him the actual collection can for him to shake. there’s some fun animation of tony dancing to the organ music, cranking a nearby alley cat’s tail like an organ and prompting it to yowl out the notes of the song.

frightened by the cat’s hissing, the monkey (i don’t know if i have it in me to keep calling him tony) runs by a nearby thrift store. he spots a mannequin and plucks off its wig and puts it on, making a caricature of harpo marx. certainly an interesting first harpo marx caricature!

he then rushes to a nearby harp and plucks the strings, pulling a string that sends him rocketing through the air. he uses his tail as a spring (good) and hops back over to the crowd of kiddies, who applaud him.

first caricatures of laurel and hardy! another looney tunes favorite to caricature, especially hardy. he’d even be portrayed as a pig in a few cartoons, such as the case of the stuttering pig (evidently a relative of porky’s), you ought to be in pictures (ACTUALLY porky disguising himself as hardy), and the timid toreador (once again porky, the gag thrown completely out of nowhere LOL). the monkey transforms his face into laurel and then hardy.

interest lost with caricatures, the monkey turns his attention to a piano, swiping the keys with his tail. he hops on the stool and plays the piano, the children of the street singing “the organ grinder” (complete with a baby singing a verse in a bass voice. a standard goodie). another piano comes into view, and the monkey plays the dueling pianos with his hands and feet, very impressive! i could barely play ONE piano without quitting after a few years of lessons, let alone two.

now the monkey launches into “42nd street”, sitting on an accordion, beating a drum with his tale, and playing a clarinet. the song 42nd street would be used in a few cartoons (such as daffy running amuck with a paintbrush in daffy doodles). 42nd street was a popular musical that birthed a few songs you may have heard of: we’re in the money, lullaby on broadway, young and healthy, shuffle off to buffalo... three of those would all be merrie melodies, too.

like anyone would, the monkey gets carried away by the spirit of the song. he ends up hijacking a car, running into a fruit stand and eventually into a music shop (where the organ grinder narrowly avoids being crushed).

the monkey comes out on top, his car now tricked out with various instruments. the organ grinder pops up in the backseat and grinds his organ as they parade through the streets, playing music for all to hear. iris out.

for a relatively plotless cartoon, this one was really enjoyable! the music was very catchy (the organ grinding was a little hard on the ears, but the jazz score was fantastic) and the gags were fun, fresh, and crisply animated. there was a lot of personality in this cartoon, and celebrity caricatures are always a plus! very enjoyable, i’d recommend a watch!

link!

[saoirse-argentum]

PROMPT #30: DARKNESS

(Well, September has drawn to a close, but October 1st is the start of Inktober, so I’ll have story related doodles in the days to come. I think I’ll keep this plot going, but narrow it to once or twice a week...otherwise I’m never gonna finish Maleficium vol. 2.)

 HEAT LEVEL: HOT! (Some adult content. I’ll post the spicy Aymeric pics that go with it later...I still gotta color...and grade papers.)

Saoirse’s mind was clouded. Between her heartache and Aymeric’s touch she was lost. Did she want to forget Estinien? He was so quick to turn away from her every time his insecurities were tested, was that what she wanted? 

But could she be happy without him?

Aymeric did make her happy. He was kind and gentle, and he didn’t react the way Estinien did. But could she love him?

Aymeric moved off her and helped her sit up so he could remove her shirt. He leaned against her; his chest warm against her back. He tenderly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingertips and kissed along her neck until he was just above her pulse. He bit her gingerly and drew at the flesh as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him. He pushed his weight against her, forcing her to her hands and knees. He slipped his hand beneath the lace of her bra and cupped her breast as he pressed his erection against her. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. He slid his thumb beneath the elastic of her shorts.

“Aymeric…” Saoirse’s breathing was uneven, but even as her body responded to his she couldn’t quiet her mind. She reached back, catching his wrist. “Wait…I…” She glanced back at him; her heart heavy. “I can’t do this.”

He was slow to release her.

She turned to face him, and she felt the tears starting all over again. “I am so sorry.”

“It is alright.” He cupped her face in his hands and smiled down at her. He was always smiling at her. No matter what she did, he always looked to her the same way, and it only increased her guilt.

She placed her hand over his. “It’s not. I should have considered your feelings more clearly. When you said you would be okay…I thought we could go back to way things were, but that wasn’t fair to you. I wish I could return your feelings, but I…”

Aymeric placed his index finger to her lips. “I know. I should not have pushed you, but I could watch you hurt over him no longer. I want for your happiness…and I think in time, I may well be the source of that joy.” He kissed her forehead. “And I will wait by your side as long as it takes.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back onto the pillows with him. “For now, rest your weary heart and face your worries in the light.”

Saoirse rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat as she tried to sort out her own heart’s direction. It didn’t matter how she approached it, where she shifted blame, where she saw the road going in the future, every scenario led her back to the same place…back to him.

She waited to be sure Aymeric was asleep before slipping out of his embrace. She was quiet as she dressed, so not to wake him. Before sneaking out of the room she stopped at Aymeric’s side and kissed his forehead. He was a good man with an extraordinary heart, and perhaps she was a fool to walk away from that. But her soul was elsewhere and if she didn’t at least try to fight for that love, she’d never be happy with that shadow of regret at her back.

She looked back at Aymeric with a sad smile before leaving the room. “Rest well.” Saoirse pulled her hood up over head so that only her leporine ears faced the fierce wind. She couldn’t say for certain where Estinien had gone, but with the storm only worsening, she assumed it wasn’t far. She made her way to the inn nearby, praying that she’d find him there.

She shook off the snow covering her head and shoulders and stomped out what was wedged in her boots before stepping inside. It was quiet in the lobby, but an attendant was still present at the front desk.

“A room, miss?” He asked, his cat ears perking up as he approached her.

“No, actually, I am looking for someone. I thought he might be here. He’s an Elezen man. Long white hair, steel blue eyes in Drachen scale armor…probably angry.”

“Ah, yes! I know just the man! He’s up in room 3882.” He slipped her a spare key. “Just in case.”

“Thank you.” Saoirse placed a few gil on the counter for his trouble and headed up the stairs.

When she arrived at Estinien’s door she considered knocking, but she couldn’t be certain he was still awake. She hesitated for a moment before opening the door slowly. The room was dimly lit, and Estinien sat with his head down on the table in corner, an empty whiskey glass in front of him.

Saoirse shut the door softly behind her. “Estinien?”

He was slow to raise his head. He wiped his eyes by pinching his index finger and thumb toward his nose before he faced her. He blew his bangs out of his face and she could tell by the redness of his cheeks and gloss of his eyes that he had probably had more than just one glass to drink. “Saoirse?” He seemed lost at first, but his confusion quickly shifted to anger. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think I would just let things be?” She took a small step toward him.

“Aye, because I told you to.” He stood, using the table for balance. “But then when have you ever listened to me?”

“I know you are upset with me and I get it…but I’m just asking for you to give me a chance to explain.” She walked around the bed to meet him.

“I thought I made myself clear. I have no interest in you or your words, so leave me be.” He reached for the bottle of rye on the table and poured the small bit that remained into his glass. “Or have you not wounded me enough?” He downed the glass and slammed it back to the table.

“I am sorry, Estinien.” She got down on her knees and lowered her head to the ground. “I am so, so sorry.”

“What nonsense is this? Get up.”

She glanced up at him. “I never meant to hurt you, and it was unfair of me to dismiss your feelings just because I thought I was being diplomatic. I should have listened to you, tried to see your side. That was my mistake, and I would do anything to make it right.”

“I said get up.” Estinien grabbed her by the arm and tried to lift her, but Saoirse would not budge.

“But you must understand that what you said before hurt me, and when you disappear on me after a comment like that I don’t know where we stand.” She pulled her arm from him. “I was alone. I was hurt and Aymeric was merely trying to distract me, so I wasn’t crying over you.”

“Oh, how kind of him. I suppose it is difficult to weep when you are engaged in groveling over another man.” He grabbed her arm again, but this time she yanked him toward her.

“If I wanted Aymeric we wouldn’t have been playing cards…and I wouldn’t be here now groveling over you!” She smacked her hands to his cheeks and held his face in her hands. “Because even when it’s Aymeric touching me, I am thinking about you. Because I want you. Because I love you! Even when you’re difficult. Even when you’re willing to walk away instead of fight because you’re afraid of getting hurt. I love you, Estinien. You and only you, so stop running away because I will follow you every time.” She pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around him. Her weight and his surprise, knocking him back onto the floor.

She parted from him, holding herself up over him and smiling. “Please, Estinien…you must know, in all this darkness, my one light has always been you.” She wiped her eyes before her tears could fall to him. “I will spend the rest of my life making this right, if that’s what it takes, but please, please, don’t give up on us.”

“Damn it.” Estinien covered his eyes with his forearm and was quiet.

“Estinien?” She touched his arm, but he caught her wrist.

“Don’t look at me…Turn around.” He let he go and waited for her to remove herself from him. He peaked to make sure her back was to him. He sat up and draped his arms around her and buried his face into her back. “You will be the end of me.”

Saoirse was certain she felt him shake and a drop of water hit her shoulder. She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips. “Is that your way of saying you forgive me?”

Estinien grasped her chin and turned her head slightly so she could face him. “I will forgive you…but only after you have served your punishment in full.” His mouth took hers and he pushed her back onto the floor. He tasted of whiskey and want.

When he finally parted for breath, she smiled up at him and gently tucked his hair back behind his ear. “I am yours.”

He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. “And I yours.”

She’d found her light, but where there was hope so too lurked despair…and darkness was coming.

To be continued…

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede           Chapter 42:  Teamwork

Source: @rawresparza

Chapters 1-40  Chapter 41

The guy had been weaving his contorted way through every questioning technique they’d tried on him.  None of them had been able to build rapport with him. Threats, promises, and intimidation didn’t work.  Role-playing had failed entirely because he’d seen through it instantly.  He was intuitive in the extreme; he could spot a weakness or sore spot instantly from the slightest clue.  Once he did, he would use it to slash at the person so that, rather than continuing to press the questioning, they would recoil to defend themselves.  It was classic manipulative narcissist behavior, and the squad had been watching him do it successfully for over six hours.  Nothing was working with him.  They were all tired, seriously pissed off at him, and frustrated.  

The worst part was that they knew he was enjoying the game.  He hadn’t asked for a lawyer because any lawyer would have ended the interrogation, and he wasn’t done sporting with them yet.  But they could not stop.  If they let him go, it was entirely likely that they’d never get a hold of him again, and a dead certainty that he would go back to victimizing pretty much every woman who had the misfortune of meeting him.  They couldn’t arrest him without more evidence, so they had to keep him talking in the interrogation room.

Olivia and Carisi shuffled out of the interrogation room, drained and stymied.  

“That asswipe is not gonna give it up,” Carisi griped.  “I say we just toss him out the window, tell the brass he escaped.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Olivia sighed.  “I couldn’t take one more minute in there with that slime.”

“What’s left to try?” Fin asked.  

“I don’t know.  Maybe we need to just give up trying to get him to say anything we can use.  Get him the old-fashioned way, with physical evidence.”

“Abrams doesn’t leave physical evidence.  That’s the problem,” Rafael noted.

“Let’s not give up just yet,” Laura said.  “We’ve been watching this creep for six hours now, and his moves are starting to get predictable.  Plus, you’ve been taking turns with him.  He’s been in there the whole time.  He’s gotta be more tired than we are.”

“I just don’t think we’re gonna get anything out of him,” Olivia said.  “We’ve tried everything.”

Rafael looked at Benson, his head tilted slightly, a nasty smirk suddenly appearing on his face. There was a definite wicked gleam in his eye.  “Not everything.”

He turned to Laura.  “Wanna have some fun?”  

Simply based upon sly, sexy look on his face, Laura would have agreed to absolutely anything.  “What are you thinking?”

“Just follow me.”

He opened the interrogation room door and waved her in.

“Mr. Abrams, I’m Detective Parker, this is Assistant District Attorney Barba.”  They sat down on the other side of the table facing the handsome, well-groomed blond.

“Oh.  Conceding defeat, huh?  The game is lost, so they’re sending in the benchwarmers to get a little practice since they can’t do any harm?”

Rafael raised an eyebrow and directed his words to Laura.  “Clearly doesn’t know baseball or business.  Not familiar with the concept of a closer.”

Abrams sneered. “Parker.  Laura Parker.  Formerly of the Chicago PD.  Been with the NYPD just two years.”

Rafael shrugged.  “On the plus side, he knows how to use Google.”

“You see a computer in here?   Have I had time to look you up since you walked in here?”

Laura, quickly picking up on Rafael’s game, shrugged and leaned insolently back in her chair. “You didn’t have to, you transparent twat.  You’ve been committing sex crimes in New York for, what, ten years?  Any moron who makes a habit of that would have looked to see who might be coming after him.”

Rafael made a note on his legal pad.  “Not as smart as they said he was.”

“You guys fucking?” Abrams asked.

“Also not that creative,” Laura said to Rafael.

“Stupid cunt,” Abrams sighed.

“As I said…”  Laura gestured to Rafael at the predictability of the insult before turning to Abrams.  “You people. You all think you’re so special.”

“’You people’?”

Rafael shrugged. “Manipulators.  You think because you could bamboozle some housewife in Queens, you’re Rasputin.  You’re like the fourth one this week for us, so don’t take it personally if we’re not impressed.”

The slightest ripple of irritation crossed Abrams’s features.  “You’re the A.D.A., huh?  Are you here to offer me a deal?”

Rafael sat immobile. “No,” he said, his face and voice entirely neutral.

Abrams skipped a beat. Not much to grab onto with someone who didn’t speak.  “Hey, man, that’s a hell of a suit.  Etro?”

Again, Rafael simply said in a flat voice, “No.”

“So you watch the obituaries and find yourself a young widow.  You Google her, follow her around for a while, figure out your approach, and go after her,” Laura tried.

Rafael stepped in before Abrams could respond.  “Yawn. Teenagers do that every day to get prom dates.”

Laura continued.  “You bleed her dry, then dump her.”

“Been done by every bleached blonde with fake tits ever,” Rafael sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“She threatens to go to the cops, you stage a break-in, rape and kill her.”

“The plot of every bargain bin mystery novel since Adam.  Exact same story with Michelle Trujillo, Myra Simpkins, and three other women.  What, exactly, is supposed to be so special about you?”  

Abrams didn’t like the way there were two conversations going on, one of which was about him but didn’t involve him.  And he definitely didn’t like the attitude of these new assholes.  “Well, obviously they thought I was special, they couldn’t get enough of me.  They wanted to show their appreciation so they gave me gifts.  Want me to show you what’s special about me?”  He leered at Laura.

“To quote my friend here, no.”  She answered.

“So what exactly makes a snotty little bitch like you want to work sex crimes?  You a prude?  Can’t stand the idea of anyone having a good time while you’re home with your cats?” He squinted at her and leaned across the table, getting closer to Laura as he spoke.  “Actually, no.  That’s not it.  I think it’s the opposite.  You get a front row seat to the sickest shit people can do to each other, and you get off on it.  Tell me something, did you see those disgusting pictures your friends were waving around earlier?  Do you email yourself copies of those kinds of pictures so you can enjoy them later, when you’re all alone?”

“Bored now,” Laura said flatly.  

Abrams made a disturbingly lewd gesture.

Rafael asked the next question without either of them reacting to what Abrams had done. “Where’s the money?”

“What money?”

“Ah.”  She looked at Rafael, as though Abrams’ question had spoken unintended volumes.  “It’s gone. Spent it all.”

“Not all,” Rafael disagreed, as though contemplating the ways a fool like this could squander money.  “Maybe spent half on clothes, and lost the rest gambling.”

“I’m thinking he spent a fair amount on hair products,” she replied, the angle of her gaze making it clear that she was talking to Rafael.

Abrams fumed, the superiority and amusement in their faces and voices having exactly the intended effect. He was really starting not to like the snarky conversation about him taking place as though he wasn’t there.

Rafael turned to Abrams. “You better have another housewife lined up, then.”

“Poughkeepsie this time?” Laura suggested.  “You could probably find someone naïve and desperate enough to buy – “ she raised her hand up and down to indicate him.  “What you’re selling.”  

Rafael and Laura could both see Abrams’ anger.  He turned to Rafael to give himself a moment to regroup.  “She’s a piece of work.  Got a mouth on her.  You have to work with her all the time?  You better keep that mouth busy, brother.  If I had to listen to that every day, I’d…”

“Stage a break-in, rape and kill her.  We know,” Rafael finished for him, rolling his eyes in disdain as only Rafael could.

“You know, I was right about you,”  Abrams put an arrogant smirk on his face as he crossed his arms.  Only the tightness of his posture belied the crumbling control behind his fake contempt.  “You really are the practice team, aren’t you?  Your friends at least tried to get me to talk.  You’re not even doing that.  Lemme guess, you just here to make it look like the NYPD hasn’t given up. You’re pathetic.  This isn’t even fun anymore, I think I’m losing IQ points just from being in the room with you.”

Laura and Rafael both knew they had him at that point.  His insults had been much subtler and more pointedly specific earlier in the day. Laura put her elbow on the table and rested her head on it listlessly.  Rafael began to doodle on his legal pad.

“You really are a hopeless dyke.  Why don’t you get on your knees and at least make yourself useful?  Even you oughtta be able to follow some simple directions. C’mon, get over here and suck me, then this day won’t be a total loss.  Maybe I’ll even bend you over this table and treat you to an ass-fucking you won’t –“

Laura rolled her eyes, sat back in her chair, and began to pantomime male masturbation with a disinterested expression.  Fortunately, that pushed Abrams over the edge because Rafael couldn’t hide his shocked amusement at seeing her make such an unexpected and vulgar gesture.

Abrams lunged across the table at her.  “You fucking cunt!  I’ll gut you, bitch!  I’ll show you what a man can do – “  

As he reached for her throat, as she’d expected him to, she took one of his wrists in both her hands and came around the table as she twisted his arm up behind him.   She kept his arm in one hand and used the other to push his head down on the table.  Rafael had expected him to snap, as well, so he simply stood up to make sure he could react if necessary.  

“Yeah?”  Laura sneered in Abrams’ ear.  “What man?  All I see is you.  No wonder you have to go after lonely widows in the ‘burbs.”

He reared back, throwing her off-balance and backward, which gave him the opportunity to whip around and grab her by the throat.  He didn’t see her motion behind him for Rafael not to interfere.  “You’ll be begging me to kill you when I’m done with you!”

Laura clasped her hands together and, with the strength of both arms, drove her elbow under his chin, surprising and momentarily stunning him.  As she expected, he was so enraged that he let go of her throat so she could gulp some air, and drew an arm back to punch her.  He was big and very strong, but that only meant she was much faster than he was.  She simply moved aside so that he drove his fist full-force into the grating over the window.  He roared with pain and fury, and began blindly swinging.  He did catch her on the side of the head, but due to the angle of the blow, it had nowhere near the power he was capable of.  

“This is it?  How the hell did you kill those women when you’re this weak and slow?”  

She let him grab her around the waist and wrestle her to the floor.  “I’ll tell you how, bitch, those broads had no idea who they were dealing with. They were all, ‘oh, Neil, what are you doing, don’t hurt me!’  I didn’t even have to tie them up – just fucked the brainless cows while they whined about how they loved me.  I had my knife in them before they even realized it was really happening!  You, now, you’re gonna be more fun, you got a little fight in –“

At that moment, having baited him into confessing, Laura relaxed her arms and legs.  She had been holding them spread just enough that he would think he had her in a firm grip.  When she relaxed them, she had a split second to twist violently to one side, putting her in the perfect position to knee him solidly in the groin. It was over at that point, although Fin and Olivia burst into the room.  

Laura crab-walked out off the way until her back rested against the wall, catching her breath and watching Fin cuff and arrest Abrams.  He was still spewing vile threats, but no one was paying much attention.  Fin escorted him from the room to be booked, a tired but amused grin on his face.

Olivia crouched down to check on Laura.  Rafael stood behind him, concerned but fairly confident she was not badly hurt.

“You OK?”

“Of course.”

“Nice job,” Olivia said.

“Not really.  You knew he had to be tired.  All we did was poke him until he went off.”

Rafael smirked. “Anytime you need to piss someone off, Parker’s your girl.”

Laura laughed out loud as Olivia helped her to her feet.    

“I wouldn’t take bets on the outcome of a contest between you and me in that area, if I were you.”

For the first time in four months, Rafael and Laura stood simply smiling at one another.

[professionally-unprofessional]

Shouto's bashful crush/interest being caught shifting behind the school (after he went to give her sketchbook she dropped) into his fuzzy black furry friend that keeps him company on weekends (cat shifting quirked reader) confusion & embarrassment clouds his mind for he has told that fuzzball many secrets. confrontation? maybe. thinking about the embarrassing things she did to make him feel better? (playing with a Cheerio dropped on the floor) definitely.

Oh geezums this ended up being really long. OOPS. I’m so sorry for the wait with a bunch of requests. I’ve been trying to make more time for fic writing and somehow managed it. Then I got halfway through this one and got stuck with a specific idea I wanted to do that I just couldn’t write and it didn’t fit and ahhh xD but I’m alive. Sorta. I’m trying my best to get back into writing. Also this is super long and I’m really tired. I didn’t quite finish my final proofread so there might be a couple of mistakes in here. Please ignore them if they’re there.

Anyyyywayy I hope you enjoy. I’m finally getting back into requests so I hope more should follow soon.

Ah, this was the life. You smiled and continued to doodle in your sketchbook. This was the best time to sketch. You were in some kind of creative spree which meant that - soon enough - a creative block would kick you into an abyss where inspiration did not dare to dwell. It was fine though. Hatsume would drag you out again with her endless chatter focused around her babies.

You heard a loud bang and smiled lightly, knowing that the pink-haired girl was likely in the design studio right now. The spotlight focused on the heroes was merely blinding to you. A role like that demanded too much attention. Even less popular heroes sometimes got dragged into the light. Despite the path of the hero not suiting you, you still wanted to make yourself useful to the hero society in some way and what better way for a tinkerer to do so than to make support items and hero costumes?

As your latest creation began to take shape on the paper, you wondered if you should go and save Hatsume from forgetting to eat lunch. Again. Despite the large personality differences between the two of you, your duo managed to function reasonably well. It seemed that Hatsume was always happy to enthuse about her ‘babies’ and, since you tended to prefer to be quiet and listen, it worked out well for both parties. She was a fountain of inspiration and you were a companion.

A win-win situation.

However, it wasn’t the pink-haired inventor alone inspiring you to live up to the school’s motto. Your other big sources were the two first-year hero classes. As much as you knew Monoma would hate to hear it, class 1-A enthused your creative mind more than 1-B. It wasn’t your fault that their class just had so many heroes with such interesting quirks and personalities.

Deciding to actually move, you headed back inside to the support course workshops and found your friend with a soot-covered face and a determined grin. Of course. With a small wave, you called out for her and she immediately turned around, greeting you warmly. Ignoring her rambling about her latest failed experiment, you pulled her out of there and into the lunch hall to grab something to eat. Settling down, you noticed that lunch was already halfway through. Oh well. You’d spent it in a way you enjoyed.

You noticed a familiar group of heads nearby as you took in the large dining hall. Looking over to them, you noticed a pair of dual coloured eyes lowering back to the meal in front of the individual. He was sat at a table with the green haired boy who needed something done about his arms and the gravity girl who had the big pink boots on her outfit. Oh, and there was the guy who had the white suit like Ingenium. 

You smiled as you watched the bi-coloured boy for a moment. If memory served correctly, his name was Todoroki. He’d come to you a couple of times to help with tweaks to the temperature sensors in the vest on his hero costume.

Since he’d started using his quirk for both fire and ice after the sports festival, he’d needed small adjustments to the sensitivity of the heating and cooling elements in his jacket. You’d been overjoyed when Power Loader - Maijima-sensei - had assigned you to it. Apparently you were much better at doing live work than Hatsume. On two accounts; you were less likely to cause injury and you didn’t make students uncomfortable by touching them all over to determine if they were as muscular as they seemed.

Todoroki was a pleasure to work with; he gave instructions and feedback perfectly when you needed it. Not only that, but he was patient and polite with you. Smiling to yourself, you wondered if he may need anything else again soon.

Realising that you probably looked like a loon smiling to yourself like that, you quickly shook your head and cleared it. You were just thankful that your companion was still so deep in thought about how she could improve her work that she hadn’t noticed your little daze. You shifted a little in your seat and debated on how you’d spend the evening after school.

A yawn left the bi-coloured boy as he headed back from meeting his mother. It was later than he’d thought. He kept walking and soon came to see a familiar black bundle of fluff on a bench outside a coffee shop. As he approached, he paused and noticed that the little creature wasn’t asleep but merely curled up. Raising its head, the cat unfurled itself and stretched luxuriously as a light breeze ruffled its fur.

He extended a hand in greeting and waited. Once a soft muzzle had rubbed against his fingers in a feline hello, Todoroki stroked the small one’s head and was given a quiet purr in response. His gaze followed the cat as it hopped up onto the back of the bench and then looked to be making a calculation for a jump. He remained still as the feline soared and landed on his shoulder lightly.

Todoroki could remember the first time it had tried that. It had been such an epic fail that it’d pulled a small chuckle from him before he’d softly scooped up the fuzzball and put it where it desired. For the rest of the evening the cat had seemed almost indignant, puffing up and lashing its tail slightly… at least until it was given a nice scratch behind the ears and calmed down. He began walking back towards home and heard a small, uncomfortable mew as a spot of water assaulted his nose.

The forecast hadn’t predicted rain for today. He picked up his pace and headed for home. Endeavour was away with work this weekend in another city so at least it would be quiet in the house. Having a bit of company wouldn’t hurt and his companion always seemed to like curling up on the tatami flooring. The soft rumbling of a lazy purr was rather comforting in the silence of the house. There was either that, or the black bundle of fur would bat something around the floor of his room while he worked. He’d dropped a small bit of cereal before and had gone to retrieve it only to find the cheerio halfway across the room with playful paws spurring it on.

As he settled down, the cat descended from his shoulder and began rubbing its head against his side. Smiling, he stroked  their soft fur. It was soothing to some extent and he didn’t feel so bad whenever he had this friend by his side. The companionship was fine and the more he had the cat around, the more he found he enjoyed and appreciated the quiet comfort. 

Sometimes animals were far better company than humans.

He sighed softly and looked down at the papers he’d taken from his backpack. Homework. Fine. After a while, he looked up and realised that a pair of eyes had been watching him. For a moment, he thought the feline’s face held an expression of concern. It must’ve been his imagination, but sometimes the bundle of fur felt almost… human.

Smiling wryly, he patted the small head as though in reassurance that everything was fine. He was alright. As the head tilted with what felt like a slight frown, he blinked and unloaded a little. It was nice to be able to talk to something and even better that they couldn’t speak back and pull him to pieces. He didn’t want to be told that all of his thoughts were wrong and that he shouldn’t be concerned with some of the situations that plagued him.

Just because he was a hero-in-training didn’t mean that the rest of the usual teenage problems didn’t apply to him at all.

It was easy to forget that everyone in their class- no their entire year… they were all still children, really.

After a while, he tilted his head back and found that your face came to mind. Why was he thinking of you now? You’d helped him out a few weeks ago with his hero costume and hadn’t minded when he’d been finicky about how finely-tuned the temperature-sensitive vest was. You’d been so happy to help with such quiet cheerfulness that he’d found that the experience rather pleasant rather than long and draining.

Even if you were just another student in another course, he recalled your name. Maybe you’d forgotten all about him, but he couldn’t get your quiet patience and positivity out of his head. Even when the vest had decided it didn’t want to adjust, you’d kept going. Your tiny smile hadn’t even wavered.

He wished that he too could face everything with such indifference to challenges.

There was a muffled bump and Todoroki found the fluff-ball had tipped itself over batting a loose pencil around on the table. When the pencil fell off, a paw reached down and tried to touch it, only for the figure to slip off the table and tumble down. He smiled and the feline face that met his seemed more bright than before. Could this cat really understand him?

“Are you trying to cheer me up?” He questioned blankly and received a small nuzzle to his outstretched hand as a response accompanied by a soft mew.

“Hey… there’s someone I like. Do you think she’d like me back?” At this, the form paused and looked up at him with big, warm eyes. After a moment, a fluffy belly was exposed to him and he fulfilled the request and earned a quiet purr. Perhaps if a feline could be so comfortable around him, so could his crush. The thought warmed him and he uttered a soft thanks to the cat, receiving a number of headbuts and purrs as a result.

A cat for a councillor. Who would’ve thought?

You smiled happily to yourself as you left the UA campus the next week. The weekend had been a nice break. Time to get back to work. Hatsume had conjured up yet another baby but this one needed some more fine tuning before it could be set loose on human beings.

As her friend, you’d helped. You were better at the tiny, extremely boring and equally frustrating adjustments that were required before any piece was fully finished. Half of Hatsume’s unfinished work was because she’d almost be done and then another amazing idea would sweep her away into a frenzy of creation. Who could blame her?

No matter how hard you worked, thoughts of a particular student plagued you. Despite your mind being flooded with different thoughts, you continued onwards. The hours of the school day ticked by and after lunch you were given a new assignment. Designing work would come first. Personal woes could wait.

After an hour and a half of sitting with no inspiration or ideas, you huffed and closed your sketchbook. Hatsume had gone into her hyper-focus mode where she went quiet and worked really hard. That inventive glow never left her face. Yet still you didn’t seem to be able to work. The temptation to gently hit your face against the table was overpowering.

Nothing. No ideas. Useless, empty brain!

Wow. Washed up as a first year… So sad.

After another half hour of fruitless struggling to come up with anything half decent, you’d had enough. With your face resting on the desk, you let out a small, frustrated huff. A mop of pink hair moved in the corner of your eyes and you felt those quirk-filled eyes staring directly at you. A blink. Another. The gaze shifted back to the item in her hands.

You couldn’t blame her for not saying anything. Not only did she have her own work, but you doubted that she’d have anything useful to say and she probably knew that too. From what you’d seen, either Hatsume didn’t understand how normal people worked or simply didn’t care to try and work with that. 

You still hadn’t figured out which yet.

Sitting back up, you had a look at the now filthy page. There were tiny indents from the previous sketches that you’d erased and a couple of extremely rough sketches on paper around your workbench. Pencil met paper again, sketching lines and curves but everything was too stiff and unimaginative along with the fact that it didn’t fit your brief and just—

No. This wasn’t your day. As you picked up the eraser to get rid of your latest set of failures, you found a piece of familiar yellow headgear beside your bench. “Are all the ideas feeling terrible?”

A small nod was all you could manage with the frustration churning inside.

Your short teacher took a glance towards the clock at the back of the classroom. Half an hour to go. This designing didn’t need to be finished today but you still needed to have something to work from in the next lesson. You nervously waited to hear what solution or punishment you’d get only to receive a sigh from Power Loader.

“Why don’t you get some air from the studio? There’s only another half hour. Just don’t leave campus early.”

You nodded, knowing what he was getting at. Frustration would lead to more frustration and it would only amount to a mental block, generating more irritation. The spiral of unproductively would get worse and more self-destructive until it became unbearable. Calming down was the best option. Agreeing, you packed up your things as the headgear and ginger hair disappeared further into the classroom.

As you threw your things back into your bag, you wondered where to go. One of the windowsills in the large corridors would be good. It was raining outside and you always felt worse when the weather was bad. Perhaps it was a side effect of your quirk. Placing the sketchbook down against the wall as you would rather it didn’t get crushed in your bag, you pulled out some headphones and decided to cool off with some good music.

Your mind raced back to the previous night. You’d been enjoying your quirk as you usually did… with Todoroki. Despite what he’d said, you smiled. It was fine if he liked someone else. You allowed yourself to wonder if it could be you that he liked. Some sort of storybook cliché where he’d actually confessed to his love but didn’t know it. Nah. That couldn’t be it. Not when there were people like the ginger-haired girl with the big hands and the black-haired girl with the creation quirk in his year.

They were amazing. They were upcoming heroes. You were just someone cheering everyone on from the sidelines; a cheer which couldn’t even be heard. As much as you took pride in your skills, you knew that you’d forever be a world apart from heroes. You were fine with that. You didn’t want the popularity or fame. So you would watch as your gear assisted them and you would smile and feel that you’d at least done something worthwhile.

Even when you wondered if the students you’d helped remembered your name.

Why would they? You were just another gear-head in a support course classroom. You weren’t even outstanding like Hatsume. You smile widened and you felt the facade beginning to crack. You had nothing to complain about seeing as you wanted to melt into the background. Gosh, being a cat was so much easier. All you had to do was be cute and the world would come to you. Well, give or take the odd shady stranger that looked as though they might try and kick you. 

There was always the option of confessing, but what would the point in that be? Brutal rejection happened to be well… brutal. Not exactly a desirable experience you wished to go through. So you’d continue to shove down a blush when he came into the design studio. You’d continue to feel a strange warmth in your chest when you heard about his successes in his class from other students.

You’d continue to be unable to look him in the eye as a human but do so as a cat.

Todoroki blinked as he noticed something against a windowsill in one of the corridors. A black notebook? Despite the fact that merely leaving it be would be the best and easiest option, he picked up the item and looked it over. There was something strangely familiar about the object but he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before.

It was none of his business, but he wondered if there would be a name in the front. Opening it, a scrawl of designs met his eyes. No name, but the ideas were proof enough of who it belonged to. For some reason, he couldn’t help but quickly glance through. The neat final designs that had been put together with such care and attention were beautiful. However, it was the messy rough sketches that he preferred. Namely, the personality that shone through in each and every one.

This was important to you. It was always beside you. Wherever you went, this went. It was always beside you when he saw you in the design studio, or in your hand when you wandered through the lunch hall with Hatsume.

Todoroki remembered that he’d seen you walking in the opposite direction only a few moments ago. You usually hung around in your classroom for a few moments after school finished since he’d seen you there when he’d gone to request one of the capsules on his belt be replenished after a training session.

Trying to think of which way you’d have gone if you were leaving school in that direction, he walked off. If he couldn’t find you now, he’d go back to your workbench and leave it there.

He hurried and caught sight of the back of your head turning a corner. How lucky. You exited the school from a back entrance and the bi-colored boy wondered why you’d leave this way. Oh well. Each and every one to their own, right?

He caught the door before it latched shut and found you tucking your bag behind a large bin. As he was about to call out, there was a flash. Standing before him, no taller than his shins was his black fluffy friend.

Surprise and confusion instantly rose to the surface. Wait, that was you? Or wasn’t it? Well, there were probably other black cats in the city, not just your other form, right? Why hadn’t he asked what your quirk had been when he’d been with you getting adjustments? Why hadn’t he shown more of an interest and figured this out—Wait.

He’d confessed. The realisation of everything you knew came crashing down upon him and he almost swayed. You knew everything: his mother and his father along with his scar, his frustration, his pain, his fears… everything.

You knew… everything.

A sudden feeling of vulnerability crashed into him. You had a huge wealth of knowledge on him. Blackmailing him would become child’s-play to you if you really tried.

Then something else came to mind. The cheerio— you’d played with it and always done something silly as a cat to try and get him to laugh. Even when he’d almost frozen his room solid in an emotional outburst similar to what had happened with Sero at the sports festival… you’d still sat on the table when you could have fled through the open window. You had hopped onto his lap and nuzzled your head against his hand.

All the times when you’d brought him a gift while he was doing homework sprung to mind. You’d offered him erasers or pens by batting them across the table. Other days when he was feeling a bit blue you’d move something across the table and away from him, making him chase you around the room a couple of times to get it back.

He’d never deigned to freeze you. Freezing an animal was just cruel, even if he could melt it afterwards.

Not to mention that your little bean paws happened to be so desperately soft. Damaging them with ice would be a tragedy. For both parties involved.

He fought down the urge to turn red at the realisation that you’d been present when he’d changed. Wait, you’d always either left the room quickly or gone out of sight. Had you been saving his modesty?

Coming back to his senses, he realised that his breath was crystallising in front of him and frost was creeping up his arm. There had been one night where the rain had been thrashing down outside and you’d been shivering in the cold. He’d let you curl up beside him atop the futon. When your shivering didn’t stop, he’d put his hand over you and used his quirk just enough to keep your form warm.

You wouldn’t do something with the information. You weren’t the type.

But what about how you saw him? You’d never acted differently around him. What did that mean?

Either way, you were gone for now and he was still holding your sketchbook. Glancing down at your bag, he slipped the sketchbook carefully into a position where it wouldn’t get wet if it rained nor damaged should the bins be moved. Once it was safe, he stood and left.

You couldn’t focus. Not at all. Someone had put your sketchbook back into your bag but how had they known where your bag was? Who would’ve known that the sketchbook belonged to you, anyway? There was no name in it, you remembered that whenever you thought you’d lost it.

So who had recognised your drawing and followed you outside? There wasn’t anyone who knew about your little evening adventures. Some part of you wondered what was so alarming. Your quirk was cat-shifting. No big deal.

The thing that was alarming was the fact that you had heightened senses as a cat. Which also meant a greater sense of smell. You’d caught a whiff of Todoroki on your bag before you’d shifted back and disregarded it. Until you’d noticed the notebook.

Did he know? Had he witnessed the shift or just recognised your bag? Either way you weren’t exactly happy to contemplate what you’d do with this knowledge. You weren’t sure what he’d do with it either. Oh, how had you gotten yourself into this mess?

Huffing softly, you slumped further and buried your face in your arms. Nothing was going right today. You just couldn’t focus. You’d try and then your mind would bring Todoroki up and you’d have a whole inner argument about how this was going to ruin everything but that it was also going to be fine.

“(Y/N)?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as your name was called. “Y-yes?!” You blushed at your own flustered response and whipped your head up to see whoever it was that needed your assistance. “Todoroki. Um, how can I help you?”

You gaze hit the desk and remained there as he merely stared down at you. With a jolt, you realised that only you and Hatsume were left in the studio out of all the support students. When had the day ended?

“I just wanted to ask if you could note down for one of the capsules of disinfectant to be refilled.” You blinked. Slowly. Nothing he said was registering. “The capsules on the belt of my hero costume.”

At his clarification you nodded and tried to tell him that you’d do it, but the words died in your throat and you were left just sat there. Why wasn’t your voice working? This was the worst. Biting down on the warmth that was rising to your cheeks, you shook your head and gave a firm nod. Professionalism. You could do this!

“That’s fine. I’ll leave a note for Power Loader. It’ll be done before your next training exercise.”

“Thank you.”

He was about to leave. For some reason, you didn’t want him to go. Maybe you were ill today. There must have been a reason that you were doing so badly today. Even if you had a bad time, you never messed up in every aspect of life all at once. 

“Uh, how are the adjustments in the heat sensors doing? Is the sensitivity better than before?”

He paused from turning away and politely explained that it had been better. Somehow, you managed to smile and tell him that you were glad it helped.

This was awkward. You should really let him go. Thanking him for stopping by and letting the support course know about the problem, you threw your bag over your shoulder. As you went to pick up your sketchbook from the table, you noticed Todoroki’s gaze lingering on it.

He didn’t attempt to comment on it.

You were leading the way to the door when Hatsume’s cry of alarm reached you. Well, it was more a cry of “Baby!” Either way, it functioned the same as an alarm call. You turned to see what the issue was and were met with a metallic arm shooting towards your face.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened in that moment. Instinct took over.

One moment you were staring at it and the world felt like it’d frozen. The next, you were opening your eyes a mere few inches from the floor with cold hitting your sides. Shaking your head to clear the sudden fuzziness, you looked around. Your bag was just behind you and was bigger than you were. Brilliant. Shifting right in front of him had been at the top of the things you wanted to avoid. Guess there was no running from it now. No chance of hiding this anymore.

Todoroki was looking down at you with his usual poker-faced expression. Well, that solved the mystery of who had put your sketchbook in your bag and who might have seen you shift. It took a few moments for you to realise what it meant. However, you had other things to worry about at this moment in time. Transforming back into a human being would be a good start.

Focusing on your quirk, you let the familiar image of yourself fill your mind. Your hair, eyes, form and all the little details came back and when you opened your eyes again you were seeing the world from the comforting height of a teenager. Fantastic. One issue down and probably many more to go.

You looked at Todoroki and gave him a shy shrug. For some reason, it was all you could think of to offer. There was a silent apology in that shrug but he merely rose a hand to the wall of ice and melted it.“We need to talk.” Despite being used to the lack of emotion in his voice, it had never been so harsh when he’d spoken to you as a cat. It hadn’t been quite as chilly when he’d spoken to you as a support course student.

“Yeah.” You managed out.

He turned and walked out of the classroom. You picked up your bag and followed him, head hung low. You’d blown it. Well and truly blown it. Your little times of happiness beside him as a feline were over.

You’d both left the school and turned into a small side alley just outside the school when he stopped.

He opened his mouth to speak but you knew you had to say something first. You couldn’t take this. Despite the embarrassment and shame coursing through you at being found out like this… You could do it. You’d go first.

“Before you say anything,” you took a small breath and managed to raise your gaze to meet his. Bashful, perhaps, but not weak-willed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to cause any discomfort, I just enjoyed being in your company. I should have told you or stopped—”

“You enjoyed those evenings?”

You nodded. As much as a part of you hated the attention, you would stand here. You wouldn’t back down. You weren’t a coward. It didn’t matter that you didn’t want to shine brightly and draw attention like the hero course students and Hatsume. You could still muster the courage to say what you wanted to say now.

When push came to shove, you could do it.

“I did. I’m not sure why, but I really did like being there. It was rude of me to hear about what’s going on in your family. That was personal, but I couldn’t just run away or block it out. I didn’t know what to do other than listen.” You shifted slightly, feeling more and more uncomfortable as Todoroki’s gaze remained on you. “I promise I won’t say a word about it to anyone, so don’t worry about that.”

“Why did you come back so many times. It must have been boring after a while.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. You’d gotten this far, so you might as well go the whole way. Why was he asking so many questions? It didn’t matter. This was it. You were ready for rejection but at least you’d have it out. You could combat this shyness if you wanted.

“I liked your company. I enjoy being around you and well, I didn’t like seeing you sad. Cheering you up is just like helping the hero course out in another way.”

Inwardly cheering at how flat you’d managed to keep your face for that small confession, you went to move past him. There was no need to get told that he didn’t want you around. You knew that he’d never stop by the bench you’d used to wait on. Those times were gone now.

“I enjoyed having you around too.”

You paused and looked back. A small spark of hope had ignited in your chest. “Would it be okay if I did it again. Just an evening every so often. It’s fine if that’d be strange now.”

“That would be nice.”

You turned fully to see him and gave him a shy smile, unable to stop the redness rising on your cheeks as a joyful warmth filled you from head to toe.

“Would it be alright if we spent an evening like that with you in your human form as well?”

Shhhhh I’m a Ghibli fan and there was a black cat in this fic.

[dindjarindiaries]

Mandoctober - October 21: Flamethrower

summary: When the baby’s feeling a little down, Din decides to treat him to one of his favorite childhood delicacies, made using one of his most reliable weapons.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) & the child

warnings: food (let’s pretend s’mores exist in sw), pure dad!din

rating: G

word count: 1.275k

mandoctober masterlist

october 21: flamethrower

Life on the run’s been harder than usual lately—and the baby’s starting to feel it.

Din knows something is wrong today when he’s not awakened by the little green hands grabbing at his face. He gets up quickly, not even bothering to put on any armor as he descends his way to the hull. There, the baby’s still resting in his pram, his ears drooped down to the side as his brown eyes look at Din glumly.

“Me'bana, ad’ika?” Din asks gently, kneeling in front of the pram and running his hand along the baby’s tiny head. What’s happened, little one?

The baby just whimpers, leaning into Din’s hand and looking at him with some kind of a want—as if he’s begging for his father to take away all the pain and stress of having to run from the Empire day-in and day-out.

Din sighs heavily, his heart fracturing within his chest as he gently lifts the baby from his pram. “I know, ad’ika,” he murmurs, his tone apologetic as he tucks the baby into the crook of his elbow. He nestles his cheek into Din’s bare shoulder, never looking away from Din’s gaze as he seeks his sympathy. “I know it’s been hard, and very scary. I’m sorry.”

The baby coos as if to say it’s not his fault, simply snuggling himself further into his father’s warm figure as his ears brush low against Din’s hand. Din pouts with his son, continuously running his free hand over one of the baby’s ears as he tries to think of what he could possibly do to raise his spirits. He thinks back to when he was a child and how his parents would cheer him up. They’d take him out to study the stars, let him go for a stroll with them in the local marketplace, make him his favorite snack—.

That’s it. Din smiles to himself a bit, looking at the baby with brighter eyes. “You know what, ad’ika? We’re gonna go on a little adventure today. What do you think?”

The baby’s own eyes start to glow a little bit brighter at that, causing Din to chuckle as he carries him back up to Din’s compartment. There, he puts on all his armor, making quick work of it before he whisks the baby away again. They head to the hull as Din easily tosses his rifle over his shoulder, leading the way off the Crest to head into the small town that’s just a mile away from where the ship is parked. The baby’s still more mellow than usual in Din’s arm, his ears staying low as they make their way closer to town.

At the marketplace, the baby instinctively grows a little more alert, his ears rising just a bit as he looks around with awe. Din goes right for the necessary food stands, getting the supplies he needs to make this remedy. He’s pleased to find all three essential ingredients in the marketplace, making sure he has an excess—not just for the baby but also for himself. Once he’s all set, Din makes his way back to the Crest, eager to make the baby happy again.

They get back to the ship and Din sits with the baby in the hull, letting him sit on the floor just beside him as he gets the ingredients set out: the sweet crackers, the marshmallows, and the rich chocolate. The baby looks upon the food with a curious tilt to his head, looking up at his father as if seeking an explanation.

“This, ad’ika, is the recipe for the best snack ever,” Din explains, removing only one glove—the one that’s not on the same arm as his flamethrower. “I call it ve’vut.” Gold. “It’s as worthy as ve’vut and this little white puff, right here? You wait until that’s golden brown—and then it’s perfect.”

The baby coos softly with interest, his ears already starting to perk up higher as he nestles himself into Din’s thigh. His little hands grab there as his eyes study the ingredients, watching as Din starts to assemble one of the ve’vuts. He splits a sweet cracker in two, placing a chunk of chocolate on one and a marshmallow on the other. Then, he looks over to the baby, using a firm tone as he speaks.

“Now, we melt it,” Din informs him, watching as the baby looks at him with wide eyes. “Be careful, ad’ika. Stay right here.”

The baby offers a quirk of his ears, and Din nods before he turns to look back to the marshmallow. Carefully, he toys with the ignitor on his flamethrower, making sure he’s being gentle as he lets it go. The flames lick out towards the marshmallow, instantly making the baby’s eyes widen as he releases a long coo. Din’s careful with his work, making sure he waits until the marshmallow’s golden brown to stop. Once he studies the perfect color of the marshmallow and watches the ve’vut come together, Din concludes that this is the best use of his flamethrower.

And the child seems to agree by the way he grabs towards the treat, looking at Din in a pleading manner as he makes grabby-hands for it. “Olar, ad’ika,” Din says softly, handing the finished snack over to his son. Here, little one. He holds it as the baby takes his first bite, hopeful that his son will enjoy it just as much as he does.

Almost instantly, the child’s ears perk up to the very top of his head, his coo loud and full of delight as he hungrily continues to devour the ve’vut. Din laughs, his heart finally piecing back together at the evident happiness within his son.

“Jatisyc, ner ad’ika?” Delicious, my little one? The baby’s eyes just widen even more as he finishes off the first ve’vut, little pieces of marshmallow and chocolate sticking to the sides of his mouth as he coos again. Din chuckles, using the thumb of his non-gloved hand to wipe away the stains for him. “More?”

The baby makes grabby-hands at the ingredients this time, causing Din to nod as he sets up another ve’vut. This time, the baby comes to the side of Din’s flamethrower, grabbing his arm further away from the actual source of flames as he looks to Din with his best pleading eyes.

Din sighs heavily. “Fine.” He smiles when the baby tightens his grip, pretending to help as Din ignites his flamethrower again to toast another marshmallow.

And so they go on. And on. And on. Until the baby’s consumed nearly ten ve’vuts and Din’s had three of his own. The baby collapses in a tired yet satisfied manner on Din’s lap, looking full and happy as he coos into the fabric of Din’s shirt.

“Naysol ve’vuts, hm, ad’ika?” Too many ve’vuts, hm, little one? Din brushes his hand over the little one’s head, watching as his big eyes begin to flutter closed. “You need a post-sweets nap.”

The baby snuggles further into Din upon hearing that, looking much more like himself now thanks to Din’s treat. It causes Din to smile, looking at the ingredients in front of him and then the flamethrower that helped to put them all together.

Perhaps his way of life is more baby-friendly than he thought.

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