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#Or should I say...fur real
Wait we all collectively decided Chat Noir is a furry right?
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marblerose-rue · 2 years
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click for better quality!!
brightheart/request
the moon decided she'd shine brighter, just for her
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piningprecussionist · 3 months
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Im going to be completely frank with you all... and admit that I read these options and wasn't sure how to take this chart,,, so uh. Under the cut is Another Version. I'd apologize but I've given you the option to keep scrolling ¯\_(・・)_/¯
(If you notice characters missing on Kim's side, I probably figured she doesn't know who they are lol)
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For the record,,, if they *wanted* me to pull their hair-- *is shot several times before I can continue*
Uhh Matthew is here because I have been converted fully on he/him or enby lesbian Matthew I think. He lives in my brain rent free now, very gender. I'd pull his hair but also I think he mostly just deserves to have it played with nicely.
And Scott's here because 1) I enjoy trans Scott, 2) Kim Pine Brain Rot possibly, 3) idk he's like,, the exception. God damnit, I've fallen for the inexplicable Scott Pilgrim Effect. What the fuck--
I did think about doing this chart like everyone was actually applicable to my tastes, but even if they were I think the ones I didn't put up would have to fall on the caress side bc I just don't feel that way abt them lol.
Again, not to say that's the case for the gals over on that side,,, I just think I would want to be gentle w them shxkdjsdhbd with the exception for Lynette who probably deserves to have her hair pulled, but again I fear she would Hurt Me,,, but maybe in a fun way,,,
Anyway No One Look At Me....
(,, also,,, Ramona is so far over bc I think she would enjoy it,, otherwise she'd be closer to Kim in that section. Same thing w Roxie)
If anyone actually looks at this version, I'm not opposed to doing a version like this for Kim btw! Just ask for it so I feel like I'm not just Dropping This and scurrying away
#sp comic#meme#kim pine#id tag more people but i Do Not Have The Strength....#also i like Living and I think the idea of more people seeing the suggestively taken one makes me want to Die a little#(not to say you cant reblog this or whatever im just being dramatic shdjejsdhdhgdd I am generally a fairly Reserved person)#for the kim chart- i based my other scott placement on the interaction theyve had here! i think if they interacted for real or more often +#+ he'd end up definitively in the Pull Roughly suggestion with most people#ooc#he maybe if i finish edits for everyone i could try this w the au stuff. kit's thoughts might be different here...#hey*#also let me know if i forgot anyone??? i thought abt including the robots but. no hair. and gideon the cat has Fur so. on technicality-#but like barring parents and peter i think i got most people#i guess if lainey was here she'd go somewhere in the middle or right? w/out knowing what she'd be like#FUCK I DIDNT MEAN TO POST THIS. I MEAN IT'S HERE NOW SO IM NOT REMOVING IT BUT I AM S C R E A M I N G I WASNT READY#ah i forgot crash and the boys actually. thats why i wasnt supposed to post this yet#uhhhh Pull Roughly for like all of them. except trasha. trasha gets head pats and a juice box#except for on Kim's chart. on Kim's chart she's in the pull roughly section I can't lie to myself. she hates that kid 😭 also on that note +#+ knives should probably be in the middle section. like she wants to pull it for her having copped her style and being stupid abt scott.#but I didn't put her there bc I feel like even if she wants to she wouldn't ya know? knives is a Precious Angel after all
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river-taxbird · 6 months
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Normally, Calico cats should only be female, however one in three thousand Calico cats are actually male. This is because they have Klinefelter Syndrome, an intersex genetic condition. In cats, colour is stored on the x chromosome, a three coloured Calico has to have 2 X chromosomes, plus white. Males usually only have one X, unless they have Klinefelter Syndrome, where you have two X's and one Y.
Furries are quick to point out that male Calico cat fursonas wouldn't exist, but they actually would, they'd just be rare. Klinefelter Syndrome also occurs in humans of course. (I know this first hand.)
Therefore I propose: Calico Catboys COULD be real, despite what the furry meme says, however if they followed the human characteristics of Klinefelter Syndrome, they would be taller than average, usually over 6 feet, have a feminine weight distribution, including some limited breast growth, have a feminine hair/fur growth pattern, and have around a 20% chance of being autistic.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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The Cat Chronicles
(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)
Theodore Nott x reader
word count: 5.9k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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1
The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.
“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.
“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.
You let out a small sigh of disappointment.
“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.
You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.
“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.
Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.
With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.
“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.
“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.
You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.
“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.
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The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.
"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.
Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.
He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.
The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.
The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.
You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.
"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)
The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.
"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.
You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.
"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.
Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.
"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.
You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.
"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.
Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.
"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"
Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.
"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.
You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.
"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.
Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.
"Thank you, y/n."
He knew your name.
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3
The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.
As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.
"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.
"Theo, what the fuck."
Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.
"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.
"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"
Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.
"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.
With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.
"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.
Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.
"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.
The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.
"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.
"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.
"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.
With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.
"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"
Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.
"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.
You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.
"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.
"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."
Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.
"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.
"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.
Theo nods his head at this.
"I have two roommates," he shares.
"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"
Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.
You cock your head at that with a grin.
"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.
"It never gets boring," Theo responds.
A moment of silence passes.
"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.
You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.
Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."
It's like a switch flips inside Theo.
"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."
You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.
"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.
"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.
You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.
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4
Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.
"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.
Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.
"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.
Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.
"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."
Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.
"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.
"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."
"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.
Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."
Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."
"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.
"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.
Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.
“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”
“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.
“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”
With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.
You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.
You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.
A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.
You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.
“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.
You blink once. Then again.
“Sorry?”
“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.
You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.
“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“
“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”
“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”
You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.
“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.
With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.
“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.
Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.
“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.
“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”
“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”
“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.
“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.
Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.
“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.
For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.
“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”
Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.
“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.
“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”
You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.
“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.
“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.
You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”
The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.
“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.
“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.
“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.
“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.
Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.
“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.
“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.
“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.
“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.
Definitely not asleep.
“Goodnight Theodore.”
You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.
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The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.
Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.
Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.
Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.
You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.
“Hey! You!”
You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”
You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.
“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.
“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.
You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.
“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”
“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.
You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.
“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”
You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.
“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”
Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.
“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.
After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.
Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.
“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.
The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.
You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.
“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.
“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.
“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.
Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.
“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”
“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”
The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.
“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”
You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.
Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.
“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.
“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.
“Sleep in your bed with you.”
You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.
“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.
“Will Gladys be here?”
“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.
Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.
“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.
“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”
“Get out of my bed.”
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A/N
My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3
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lewisvinga · 4 months
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our baby | oscar piastri x fem! reader
summary; in which a few silly comments from oscar and y/n led to a big misunderstanding for fans
fc; yunjin huh
warnings; none (?)
notes; oscah
masterlist !
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 903,067 others!
yourusername: winter photo dump w bae :p
tagged; oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri: i hate this.
yourusername: hello????
oscarpiastri: where is my child
oscarpiastri: OUR baby
oscarpiastri: why’d you leave baby angel out 🙁
yourusername; you drama queen, she’s like 8 weeks old she’ll be okay 🙄
username: did oscar say a CHILD??
username; my fave grid couple 🥹🥹
username: oscar’s comment??? uhm is that why y/n wasn’t in the paddock for a bit ….
username: now that’s making sense
username: mother and father ( literally )
username: i’d kill to pull off orange like y/n😩
landonorris: did u trip
yourusername: maybe 🤫
username: I SAW THEM AT ST MORITZ N OSCAR SEEMED TO BE XTRA CAREFUL W HER
username: oh u rich rich
username: maybe it’s bc that’s his gf
username: what if they fr had a baby and that’s just him being careful during her recovery 🤔
username: why would they be in st moritz after just having a baby…
username: 8 weeks = 2 months , no? baby should be fine at home w a babysitter
username: what are yall talking about… liked by yourusername!
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liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 912,764 others!
yourusername: how’d osc pull me ?
oscarpiastri: with rizz ( free boba )
yourusername: real 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨
oscarpiastri: wow you are gorgeous.
yourusername: £\!£\¥~£|^ h&:&,$jdkcjskfkd
oscarpiastri: you look like our daughter in the last picture
yourusername: yeah cos i had her in my womb for 9 months and birthed her 🤰
username: WHAT
username: THEIR COMMENTS?? SHE FR HAD A DAUGHTER??
username: why haven’t they said anything abt their comments…
logansargeant: if i remember correctly there was a lot of stuttering and blushing , not from u tho
yourusername: so true
oscarpiastri: ok come on, it wasn’t that bad
logansargeant: h-h-hey y/n, h-how was y-your day!
yourusername: ya babe you were like that…
oscarpiastri: 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️
username: everyone talking abt possible oscar piastri jr but im focused on how good she looks 😫😫😫😩😍😍😢😢
username: it’s giving poison ivy🤩
lilymhe: WOWWWWWWW
lilymhe: you’re soooo fine 😍😍 marry me💍
yourusername: anytime bbg👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
oscarpiastri: oh! you can’t , we have a child
lilymhe: i’ll be a stepmother 👩‍🍼👩‍🍼
alex_albon: we have our real children at home ( albon pets 😞 )
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yourusername posted to their story!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 1,004,304 others!
yourusername: last photo dump of 2023 ft. our 8 week baby angel 🕊️ yes , she’s our baby daughter 👩‍🍼
tagged; oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri: angel is the cutest baby ever despite leaving fur everywhere
yourusername: she’s just a baby!
oscarpiastri: the prettiest girl, can’t believe you’re all mine
yourusername: ur mine 4ever you cant get rid of me or angel 😈😈
oscarpiastri: and i never plan to!
username: IT WAS A CAT ALL ALONG???
yourusername: not just a cat! a ragdoll kitty :p!!
username: oomf on twitter was right abt it being an inside joke 😭😭😭
username: so no baby piastri 2024?
yourusername: she is my baby piastri 😠
username: LMFAOOO IT WAS A CAT???
username: baby piastri being a cat is so on brand for y/n 😭
landonorris: my niece angel 😇 did she enjoy my gift🥰
oscarpiastri: by gift meaning a cat tower with your face on it? yes, she enjoyed scratching your face 😊
username: the kitten is so cute 🥹
username: the last picture of oscar driving w angel😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
username: the most perfect kitty for the most perfect couple 🥹🥹
1K notes · View notes
bunji-enthusiast · 3 months
Text
Good, Good day indeed
Note || what I say? I’m bombing yall when the inspiration strikes me.
Sypnosis || making him a flower crown
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He wasn’t far within his own peace of mind, knowing his old friend Catnap has changed so drastically. Dramatically one might say!
Even so, DogDay was glad you had found him. But what were you doing now? He was intrigued, so breaking the silence, “Angel, what is it that you are doing?”
You looked up at DogDay, shifting in your spot as you realized that your position was beginning to numb your poor bottoms. With a smile, you replied with a lighter air about you.
“I’m weaving these flowers to make a flower crown,” And for a moment, you aired a reach of pause; tongue clicking as you noted mournfully. “Though they aren’t the real deal unfortunately.”
A flower crown? DogDay was in a way, glad you found a way to pass the time—in spite of this mess—and keep the mind off of things. He knew well enough that you were stressed enough as it is, he could sympathize with that. Many, many things to think about and to deal with.
Sometimes a break is needed.
You fumbled around with the stems of the flowers till it had weaved and weaved, creating the result you wanted. “Done!” Your hands held up the flower crown with an air of pride.
DogDay nodded his head at the object, feeling happy that you were happy. Cliché it may be but he was just that happy, it wasn’t easy to be allowed to be happy in a place like the Factory.
You put the flower crown on his head, fluffing out the roughened spots of his fur to make sure it sat comfortably on his head. He looked up, confused as to why you did this. “I made it for you silly! You look so cute with it.”
Now he felt bashful, “Thank you.” DogDay’s voice still came out rather torn and broken, but he was genuine. Gently he had patted your leg, as he wasn’t able to stand (lack of legs haha).
“Hey now, we are in this together!” You grinned, shifting yourself to sit properly. You held his hand close, “I should thank you for not killing me.”
Suddenly you laughed as you spoke, though it was a means of a joke—DogDay felt embarrassed, his other friends weren’t no joke about chasing you. But he was glad.
“That is not something to be grateful about, Angel.”
“I know!”
797 notes · View notes
faeriekit · 27 days
Text
Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
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butch-reidentified · 5 months
Text
it's so cute how everyone acknowledges grooming as a real thing but as soon as we say (such as in conversations about female body hair removal) girls/women are groomed our entire lives to appeal to men, we're "misogynistic" for "calling women stupid"
Edit Jan 7, 2024:
My wife thinks I should have included an analogy in the original post (like the CEO example in my recent reblog), but in my conversation with her she pointed out that under the broad definition of grooming, all raising of children could be considered "grooming them for adult life." She makes a good point!!
The actual definition isn't inherently about sexual predation despite what the internet may have led some of you to assume. This is a good opportunity for me to remind *everyone* to fact check *everything* you learn online before repeating it to anyone and possibly spreading misinformation - including definitions of words you learn online! We ALL do this sometimes!
Screenshot below of #2 and #3 under the definition of "grooming" (#1 is obviously about animal fur lol):
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I do find it interesting that the broader definition (#2) inherently includes what is detailed in #3, yet #3 was explicitly added (I assume at a later date than #2, given the context and numerical order). It's redundant, and I do have some criticisms of the way it's worded/the specifics of it. I wonder how other dictionaries define it.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Heart II
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You try to recover
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You stay in the hospital for nearly two weeks as your new heart gets used to its new home in your body.
Ingrid and Mapi are with you the entire time.
Sometimes, one of them even skips training to come and see you. You're in a special hospital room and they have to wear silly facemasks when they come to visit that makes them look all weird.
They bring you lots of things to play with while you're stuck in bed and all of their friends send you flowers and food to keep you happy. Your caseworker comes in sometimes and she gets Mapi and Ingrid to sign lots of documents and helps them to sign you out of the hospital to take you home.
"Okay," Ingrid says as you all come up in the elevator together," You ready?"
You're wearing a special party hat because Mapi said that you were going to have a little party to celebrate your new heart. You don't really know why getting your new heart means a party but you also know that a party means lots of food and fun so you're happy to go back inside.
A few of Ingrid and Mapi's friends are already in there but you head straight for Patri and Pina because they're holding Bagheera, who's wearing a party hat too.
"Whoa, there," Ingrid says softly, still holding your hand tight like she's scared you're going to wink out of existence," Let's take it slow, alright?"
You frown and shrug. "Okay."
She keeps hold of your hand as you move to greet Bagheera. She mews at you softly, bumping her head against your chest.
"I know," You say," I've got my Santa heart." You look up at Pina and Patri. "Santa got me a new heart for Christmas. It goes boom-boom properly."
"Really?" Patri asks," That's cool. Do you feel better now?"
"Little tired sometimes," You reply, rocking back and forth on your feet," But still good!"
"She's been healing up very well." Ingrid's fingers run through your hair like yours run through Bagheera's. "The doctors are going to do another check next week and then we get to take her out again."
Even though you're out of the hospital now, you're not allowed out of the house for another week just so you can adjust to everything back home again.
"It'll be good to see you at training again," Pina says," We've been missing our little cheerleader."
"And you can join in now!" Patri exclaims and you whip your head over to Ingrid.
"Can I?"
She thinks for a moment. "We'll see," She says," Let's get through next week and then we'll see if you're strong enough to run around."
"Okay." You go back to stroking over Bagheera's fur and adjusting her party hat when she gets annoyed with it. You like Bagheera. You'd never seen a cat in real life before you came to live with Ingrid and Mapi so it's nice to have Bagheera with you now.
You yawn when you're about halfway through the movie Paredes put on and you climb up into Mapi's lap to lay on her. Her big hands rest on your back, gently stroking up and down until you're head feels too heavy for your body and it flops against her.
"She looks much better," Alexia says as she notices that you're out like a light.
"Yeah," Mapi says as she reaches for a blanket to drape around your body," They had her on a ventilator those first few hours after surgery and she looked so bad when they took her in. But...But she's better now, just a little sleepier."
"She just had major surgery," Alexia says," I think she's allowed to be a bit tired. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did."
Mapi laughs, gently rocking you. "I should put her to bed. I can't imagine those hospital ones were comfy."
Your weeks dissolve into a steady routine after you get your Santa heart. You still have to go to the doctor every week and they do tests on your new heart and they take out the little staples they put in your chest.
Ingrid still sticks to your side and she's always giving you cuddles and kisses. She lets you run around more now that the doctor says it's okay but she still wraps you up nice and warm because you still sometimes have issues with being cold.
A few months after you're declared fully fit, your caseworker comes to visit.
Ingrid lets her in while you've opened your mouth so Mapi can give you your medication. The doctor says that even though your Santa heart is working very well, you'll have to take medicine every day to make sure that your body wants to keep it.
Well, he said lots of big words and complicated stuff but Mapi explained it to you like that when you went to get ice cream after your appointment.
You case worker says hello to you before briefly looking around the house ago and then making you sit down in front of the tv with her. That makes you a bit nervous and you hang on Mapi's hand.
"With Mapi and Ingrid?"
"In a minute," Your caseworker says," I just want to have a little talk with you without them."
Your brow wrinkles. "And Bagheera has to go too?"
"Bagheera can stay," Ingrid promises you, kissing the top of your head and steering Mapi into their bedroom.
You stroke Bagheera's fur rhythmically as you sit in front of your caseworker.
"How are you feeling now?" She asks," With your new heart?"
"Santa got me a good one," You reply," But I've still got to take special medicine."
She writes something down. "And you always take your medicine?"
"Ingrid reminds me," You answer, getting a bit distracted by the way a single ray of sunlight is peaking through the blinds," And Mapi hides it in icing sometimes for when I don't want to take it."
She writes down something more. "That's good. And you like it here, with Ingrid and Mapi?"
The topic of your favourite girls makes you perk up. "They're my most favourite! Mapi is so cool! She's got lots of tattoos. She says that one day, she'll let me draw her one to put on her body."
Your caseworker nods along, her pen moving along the paper. "And what about Ingrid?"
"Ingrid gives me cuddles all the time," You say," And she lets me help make dinner and cookies and she takes me to the park and we go down the slide together."
Your caseworker stops writing and flips her notepad shut. "Do you remember what it means to have a caseworker like me?"
You nod.
"What does it mean?"
"It means that you find adults to look after me because I don't have parents."
Your caseworker nods. "Adults like Ingrid and Mapi," She says," They're fostering you."
You give her a little look. "I know." You don't know why she's talking about that. It makes you feel all weird inside and briefly, you wonder if your Santa heart is going boom-boom wrong like your old one.
"Sometimes," She says," Fostering is more temporary."
You don't like her words. It makes you feel all icky and bad inside. You shake your head. "No," You say," No! Stay here!"
Your caseworker hands you a picture. It's got a little family on it, a mummy and a daddy and two boys who have the same hair colour as you.
"This family doesn't want to foster you," Your caseworker says when you throw the picture on the floor and hold Bagheera close. "They want to adopt you. They think you'd fit in well with them. Like a forever home instead of a foster home."
You shake your head, your bottom lip wobbling. "No...No! Forever home with Ingrid and Mapi!"
Your caseworker sighs deeply, shuffling the picture of the little family back into her folder. "You want to stay here?" She checks," With Ingrid and Mapi?"
"And Bagheera," You say stubbornly," Because this is forever home. Mapi and Ingrid are forever with me and my Santa heart."
"And you don't want to live with this family?" She reaches for the picture again and you turn away.
"Ingrid and Mapi," You say firmly.
"Okay. Let's get Ingrid and Mapi in here."
You're near to tears when they finally come back in and Ingrid pulls you into her arms immediately. You wipe your cheeks dry on her shirt and blindly reach for Mapi.
"Stay," You beg," Stay here. With you."
Mapi whips her head to your caseworker. "We've already begun to file the paperwork!" She hisses," Why would you bring them up to her?"
"I'm just doing my job. I couldn't let her stay here if she didn't want to!"
"Want to stay!" You say, hiding yourself away in Ingrid's neck," Want to stay!"
"You're stressing her out," Ingrid cuts in plainly when it looks like Mapi and your caseworker are going to start yelling," I understand you're doing your checks and you have to get her opinion but she's barely been out of the hospital for a few months and the doctors said that undue stress isn't good for her Santa heart." She strokes a hand over the back of your head. "We've filed the paperwork. She wants to live with us over the other family that expressed interest. We want her here with us."
Your caseworker sighs. She does that a lot. "I can't promise this will stay private. You're public figures. Your papers will be rushed through as soon as possible."
When she leaves, you finally peak out from your hiding place. With big, wet eyes, you look between Ingrid and Mapi. "Stay here?"
"Yes," Mapi says with an air of finality," You're staying here."
766 notes · View notes
i-drop-level-one-loot · 4 months
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(I'm sorry it took me so long, I realized I wanted to participate in Kinktober after my ask box filled up with requests, then life got crazy, I moved, started a new job, got a baby (cat)..) CW: Gang bang, GN!Reader, multiple penetration, licking, both male and female partners, abduction, monster fuckers, non-con, forced oral, non human genitalia, urination
It's been two months since (Reader) fell.
They wondered if anyone had noticed they were missing.
Had their boss called the police? Maybe the apartment manager when (Reader) failed to pay their rent?
It didn't matter.
No one would ever find them.
There was a trail leading through a large patch of woods behind (Reader's) hometown that they often enjoyed hiking, but a couple of months ago (Reader) had made the mistake of traveling too far off from the trail. The young adult quickly became lost in the thicket, getting turned around as the sun went down. Then, they fell.
The hole seemed to go on forever, and they would have died, or at least broken something important, if a pile of soft bedding hadn't cushioned their landing.
"My, my, my.. what little snack has fallen into my chamber?"
(Reader) struggled in the mass of leaves and furs, frightened and disoriented from their sudden descent into the earth. But before they could sink deeper into the remains of animals unfortunate enough to have fallen before them, (Reader) was hoisted into the air by a strong hand clenching a fistful of their sweater. A giant creature larger than a suped up truck held (Reader) at eye level.
"Oh? What a cute little snack." The feminine voice echoed through (Reader's) skull. Whatever it was that now had (Reader) captive looked like a human woman that had a bug grow to a horrific size within her; soft pieces of human like flesh stretched out over a hard exoskeleton, tearing in multiple spots.
An exposed, human like skull molding into mandibles was presented as her face, with insect eyes lodged within it's sockets.
Because of the unrealistic, dreamlike scenario (Reader) found themselves in, they responded numbly, "Please don't eat me." It wasn't confidence that kept their voice from quaking, but shock.
Their request seemed to amuse the monstrous woman. She chuckled loudly, both within (Reader's) mind in a beautiful laugh and from her metal-like chest. The sound that reverberated from her body sounded like a knife being drug across a pipe. Her strong hand shifted, moving from (Reader's) sweater, holding them up like a kitten by their scruff, to cradling (Reader) against her bare chest. The chest was flat and without breast tissue, but it still felt effeminate to (Reader). Perhaps it was because of the soft curves above her hips, or the slender shape of her nape, but it made (Reader) feel almost embarrassed, exposed, in the nude woman's embrace.
The parts that resembled human flesh were cold like a corpse, chilled from the hard insides. Her skin was a dulled earthy color, and the longer (Reader) was pressed against it, the more the reality of their situation sank into their mind, transforming the numbness into paralyzing fear. And the monster holding (Reader) gently to her bosom smelled the change in their sweat, further entertaining her.
"Do I frighten you, little one?" Her hypnotizing voice that telepathically sang into (Reader's) head spoke in unison with the actual voice of screeching, ear piercing scraping of sharp plates.
(Reader) went rigid. This wasn't a dream. This was real. Their limbs involuntarily shook. How should the respond? What could they say in this situation?
"No." They lied. They didn't know how they found the strength to speak, but the lie tumbled out before they could clamp their mouth tight.
Another laugh rocked (Reader's) weak heart within their rib cage.
"How sweet.." An abnormally long, mostly armored finger stroked (Reader's) face. "You lie to the Queen.."
(Reader) was laid down upon what they assumed to be the Queen's bed, a more organized stack of furs and leaves. The Queen stood above (Reader), giving them a better view of her body. She had two sets of arms attached to a slender abdomen, with no belly button, her gently rounded stomach ended in a strange split at her pelvis( what (Reader) guessed to be her genitals), and from her hips were very large, inhumanly shaped thighs, without any skin texture, attached to rough and bumpy legs bent backwards and elongated, ending in insect like feet.
"Shall I eat you, little one?"
(Reader) began to tear up, feeling their bladder about to betray them. Their thighs quivered under the pressure of their fear.
"Or.. shall I keep you?" The Queen's upper hands traveled up over her chest, caressing herself, as her lower pair made circles on her lower stomach, inching closer to her exposed slit.
A horrified noise escaped (Reader's) nose as they felt warmth leak out, soiling their pants. The adult began silently sobbing, heaving as they failed at holding in both their crying and their urine. Before them, the Queen seemed to become excited, her antenna twitching as the air filled with (Reader's) scent, one only she could detect. Animalistic and hungry, she fell onto her hands and what appeared to be knees, crawling over (Reader) and tearing off their bottoms with unnatural strength.
(Reader's) body was revealed against their will, and they could no longer hold back their terrified screams. Their hollering didn't phase the woman as she felt their piss stained underwear. Her skeleton like fingers ripped open their wet fabric, purring as she investigated the human body, a reproductive body unlike her own. And it aroused her.
"You are an adult.. I can smell it.." Her mandibles opened, revealing a human like bottom jaw, with sharp, carnivorous teeth, and a long tongue dripping with saliva.
(Reader) couldn't fight back; their struggling didn't budge the Queen as she lowered her mouth onto (Reader's) wet lower half. Her long muscle explored (Reader's) warmth, before finding their ass. The skin on (Reader's) fists scraped and bled as they weakly beat the Queen's head, begging her to stop as her tongue entered their clenched hole.
"Stop!" Their screams fell on deaf ears as the organ seemed to elongate, pressing up even further into (Reader's) colon painfully. It pulsated as she tasted (Reader), breathing in deeply as she did so, relishing in their scent.
Her exposed septum rubbed against (Reader's) most sensitive place, exciting their nerves against their wishes. They fought against it, but their body began to feel pleasure despite (Reader's) emotional anguish. And the Queen could taste it.
The change in (Reader's) smell spurred on the creature, speeding up her movements as she fucked (Reader) with her tongue faster, enjoying the leaking fluids mixing with (Reader's) pee. Their stomach muscles tightened as their climax built.
......................................
(Reader) cried out a pathetic "No!" as they came into the Queen's mouth, writhing under her as their muscles spasmed.
But the Queen wasn't done with them yet..
Two months later, and (Reader) was glued to the Queen's side. Her new favorite mate, she never let (Reader) further than an arm's distance away from her, regardless of what she was doing. (Reader) had to be present for some of the most disturbing activities they had ever seen, including the Queen laying eggs. The Queen often told (Reader) that they were (Reader's) children as well, frightening (Reader) as well as confusing them. It was impossible, (Reader) thought, but they never saw the Queen mating with other monsters.
And there were other monsters.
Males and females, all significantly smaller than the Queen, hitting about (Reader's) height, who would occasionally enter the Queen's chambers to retrieve the eggs or bring food for the Queen and (Reader). Each creature was just as disgusting as their queen, with flesh stretched uncomfortably across ant like bodies. But it wasn't their anatomy that disgusted (Reader) the most: it was the way they stared at them. Monsters unable to blink, they never turned away from (Reader's) face whenever they entered the room. (Reader) didn't know what they were thinking, and wasn't sure if they wanted to know.
But they couldn't take it any more.
The Queen hardly slept, not needing to sleep as often as (Reader) did, only sleeping once since (Reader) fell, but when she did, she was out. Out hard enough where she was practically dead to the world.
And it seemed as though it was time for her to sleep again.
(Reader) stood by the drowsy Queen, naked. Their clothes were destroyed after their arrival, and the creatures had no need for clothing, so nothing was available to replace their hoodie and pants. It was a discomfort that (Reader) never got over.
"I shall see you soon, little one.." The Queen clicked softly as she curled up into the bedding.
'I'd rather die.' (Reader) bitterly thought, scrunching up their nose to prevent themselves from snarling like a caged animal. Although they did their best to keep their hatred off of their face, the Queen chuckled, seemingly taking joy in (Reader's) rage.
'You won't be laughing for long..'
They waited for what they hoped was an hour after the Queen passed out, trying to count the seconds down without the aide of a clock or ability to see the sky. Then, they took their chance.
On all fours, muscles sore from lack of use, body weak from nearly constant abuse, (Reader) crawled as silently as they could out of the den, unaware of the bemused twitch of the Queen's antenna.
They were silent, breathing such shallow breaths that (Reader) felt light headed.
But what they didn't account for was the stench.
(Reader's) tender sex and ass smelled of their's and the Queen's intimacy, even though (Reader) couldn't smell it, the rest of the hive certainly did.
As they snuck through the halls, the hive were alerted immediately of (Reader's) departure by the telepathic Queen, and were on the hunt for (Reader), following their smell.
It only took one to see (Reader's) cute little behind as they pathetically tried to crawl past for every member of the hive to know where (Reader) was, and for every worker not actively caring for younger members to immediately beeline for (Reader's) location.
And it didn't take long, for (Reader) to become hopelessly lost.
Panic began to fill their lungs and suffocate the poor captive.
"It is you!" A raspy voice exclaimed behind (Reader), startling a yelp out of the human. A male stood behind (Reader) with his hands clawing at his chest as if to steady his heart.
Fright rocked (Reader) to the core. "Please don't kill me.." They muttered nervously, already spun around on their knees to beg for their life.
The worker didn't seem to be listening, his antenna rapidly flicking about as he rambled under his breath.
"So sweet.. so cute.. so soft.. our mate.."
From his pelvis an endophallus emerged, pointed at (Reader's) face. The realization of (Reader's) fate caused a surge of adrenaline, propelling them in the opposite direction, running as fast as they could move their legs.
As they ran they heard voices down every corridor they passed, chanting words of love and attraction for their "mate". There seemed to be no escape; each hall (Reader) nearly turned down had voices calling out for them. They continued trying to run where there were no sounds, but eventually found themselves in a giant room of furs and leaves:
(Reader) had stumbled upon the sleeping chambers of the adult workers.
Tears filled their eyes as the room began to fill from multiple entrances with workers excitedly crying out for (Reader).
"It is!-"
"Our mate!-"
"Finally!-"
They wasted no time pulling (Reader) to the ground, ready to prove their love for their Queen's favorite mate.
As (Reader) opened their mouth to scream a long tongue entered and thrust itself deep into their throat. Choking and gagging, they were too busy trying to push the creature kissing them away to cover up their lower half. Like a dog pile, (Reader) was swarmed from all sides.
The workers fought one another just for the chance to touch (Reader). The second a crevice on their body was violated by a sharp inhuman dick, rubbing wherever they could reach, the creature would be thrown off, replacing the cock for a tongue or a hand. Sharp fingers massaged (Reader's) swollen body as every every hole was filled and every fold caressed. The long tongue was exchanged for a monstrous dick, but even that cold metallic-like phallus suffocating (Reader) was replaced by a female's vaginal slit as soon as the male filled (Reader's) stomach with a sticky liquid.
There was so much being touched at once that (Reader) couldn't focus on all the ways they were being assaulted.
If their ass was getting rammed by a cock, and their mouth was occupied by something else, with no holes available the creatures found other ways to fuck (Reader); folding their arms and knees and masturbating into the folds of their soft flesh; using (Reader's) hands like dildos and forcing (Reader) to enter their bodies; licking the sweat off of whatever body part they could reach while touching themselves impatiently.. Even the shallow button of their naval was molested by prodding tongues and fingers.
(Reader) was painted over and over again by fluids. All the while, the monsters would sing praises for (Reader) between their panting, grunts and moans. There seemed to be no end, with dozens of men pumping warm slime into (Reader's) stomach and ass while women rode out their orgasms on (Reader's) body.
Everything went black at one point, passing out due to a combination of a lack of air and exhaustion.
But when (Reader) woke up, they found that their body was still being used as a cum dump for another wave of workers. Their body was past the point of over stimulation, incapable of pleasure. It was pulsating electricity rolling across their abdominal muscles, contracting without (Reader's) permission.
They didn't know how long they were passed around for, but it was impossible to keep track of the number of monsters taking turns using (Reader's) body. Blood was dripping out of every orifice asking with cum and arousal fluid, the sharpness of their big like cocks and the hardness of the women's pelvises tearing (Reader's) body both inside and out.
The last thought (Reader) had before going completely dumb, was wishing that they hadn't left the Queen's side..
(A/N again, I'm so sorry it took so long! And that my drafts wouldn't let me edit your story anymore 😭 I hope you see this, Ant Anon!)
647 notes · View notes
jellycatstuffies · 1 year
Text
Why do autistic people like stuffies/plushies so much?🧸❤️
Support: Taking a stuffie/plushie with us when we go out in public (especially to potentially scary places like doctor’s offices or places with lots of sensory input like grocery stores and public transport) can help us feel safer. Basically, in any situation that could make us feel anxious, a stuffie/plushie can make us feel less anxious and more comfortable. 2. Collections: Autistic people often like to collect objects. A lot of us also love organizing, cataloging/categorizing our collection. (For example, I have an excel spreadsheet for my personal Jellycat collection and another one for Jellycats in general that has over 1700 Jellycats cataloged and organized in detail) Lining up our stuffies/plushies, for example lining them up neatly on shelves or reorganizing our shelves can bring us joy as well. 3. Sensory Joy/Stimming: Stuffies/plushies can bring us what’s called “sensory joy” as opposed to “sensory pain” caused by stimuli that feel overwhelming or painful to us. A lot of autistic people love soft things, whether it’s a soft blanket, a soft sweater or a soft and cuddly stuffie/plushie! We can stim with them in many ways, for example by petting them or brushing their fur. The way we stim with our stuffies/plushies can vary from person to person. Please don’t stop us from stimming with them. We are just trying to soothe ourselves and not harming anyone.
4. Social comfort/ A friend to talk to: Autistic people are often extremely lonely and fail to connect with people. A stuffie/plushie can be a real friend for us. We give them names, we create entire personalities for them, we ascribe them specific character traits. All of these things bring us comfort and joy and talking to and caring for our stuffie/plushie friends can ultimately help us feel less lonely. In a world where autistic people face rejection on a daily basis, it is a great comfort that they will never reject us and will always be there to listen to us no matter what.
5. Our inner child: A lot of autistic people have an inner child/ a child-like personality and stuffies/plushies appeal to them because of that. (and to anyone who has ever tried to steer an autistic person towards “more age-appropriate interests and behaviors”, you actually make things worse for us not better, please don’t do that)
Finally, this should go without saying, but if you see any of the above-mentioned behaviors especially in public, please be respectful. These things are part of what helps us cope with everyday life and may prevent sensory overload, shutdowns or meltdowns.
Note: This specifically refers to autistic adults who love stuffies/plushies, not autistic children!
In autistic children loving stuffies/plushies is seen as “normal” and “unproblematic” in most cases. In fact, autistic children that don’t like stuffies/plushies or don’t show an interest in them like their neurotypical peers are often perceived as odd.
Let me know in the comments or tags how your stuffies/plushies/whatever your preferred term for them is help you, and why you like them so much!
-Victor
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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
Note
For the angsty romance prompts, #6?
"i am sor-" "don't you dare apologize."
"I am sor-" "don't you dare apologize" from Angsty Romance Prompt List
Probably not that angsty, I just can't hurt this character
(no beta)
Masterlist
AO3
Headcanons
Reverie
"Astarion?"
He sits motionless with an empty stare into the darkness. His eyes are open wide and his lips moving as if he is whispering. The vampire is completely naked.
How long has he been like that?
He doesn't notice you. His whole world is probably shrunk to the dark chamber of his mind. Elven trance. Or more like its twisted version when Astarion just has to relive the same horrid events over and over again?
Reverie - the Elven trance - is the way for Tel'Quessira to remember their long lives. But what if your long life was just a parade of horrors until recently?
"Astarion, can you hear me?"
Nothing. He isn't here.
You aren't sure what to do. Wake him up? Put the blanket over his naked body? Just sit there till he returns to reality?
What?
You sit beside him and gently touch his hand. It's cold like marble. You study his veins visible through the pale skin.
"Astarion, wake up."
And again, nothing. You put your hand on his back, touching the edges of the scars.
The thought of how painful it was for him makes you sick.
Vampires are stuck in time. Their regeneration is nothing but reclaiming the state of the body at the moment of death. That's why Astarion's hair doesn't grow. And when Cazador would flay his skin, it healed within the moments - and then, the vampire lord flayed it again. And again. And again.
The only thing that can leave permanent marks is silver.
The silver dagger cut those awful symbols onAstarion's back. And it will always remind him of the past. Nothing will ever make up for this.
You try to be as gentle as possible, caressing his skin as if it were the cat's fur. Careful, thoughtful.
Then, you wrap your hands around his waist and place the cheek on his back as if trying to hear the heartbeat.
Suddenly, his body tenses. Astarion jumps on his feet, making you fall on the wooden floor. His face is distorted with anger.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
You stand up and reach out for him but he bares the fangs. He looks like a wounded predator, dangerous and desperate.
"I am not touching you. What was it?"
"Nothing," he mutters. "Fuck! Why?!"
"Why what?"
He steps back as if you've hit him.
"How can I be with you if I can't trust you?!"
Oh no.
His back.
It's not like he forbade you from touching it. But he said to you at least a few times not to touch it without consent.
You violated his boundaries. This innocent touch was like torture to Astarion. What is worse, caused by you.
"I am sorry-"
"Don't you dare apologize! You knew what you were doing!"
Whatever you say now, it will make it worse. Much worse.
"What next, Tav? What else will you want to do to me when I am in reverie? When I am unconscious?"
Suddenly Astarion gets silent as if finally noticing he is naked.
You leave the room, carefully closing the door, the feeling of guilt and self-blame scorching your brain.
… A few hours later, you sit on the roof of the inn, watching the town. It's dark and quiet at night, as if abandoned.
You hear the soft steps behind you. Astarion, fully clothed, looks at you with his crimson eyes that glow a bit.
"Listen… Tav... I shouldn't have yelled at you."
"Never mind. Should have chosen a different way to wake you up."
He sits beside you. "I was re-living the moments when those scars were engraved on my skin. Over and over again. I knew it wasn't real, I knew it was just a memory, but the the pain was so real, I couldn't do anything."
"Astarion, I promise I won't touch the scars ever again!"
He chuckles and then puts off his shirt as if feeling hot.
"I need you to touch them. Please. I want to forget. I need to forget!"
He sits on the edge of the roof, and you crawl away a bit, so his back is right in front of your chest. Astarion does look like a marble statue. Cold white skin and no breathing.
You carefully touch the upper scars, caressing them with your fingers. Astarion doesn't move.
You intensify your touches, stroking his back and drawing invisible figures on his skin.
"You know… Silver feels like melted steel. I thought I would die of pain and shock the moment he touched me. But it was only the beginning. It took him a few days to finish the poem. Well, we both didn't need to sleep, after all."
You plant a kiss in the center of the scars, and Astarion shivers.
"I couldn't die. Because I was already dead."
You put your hands on his shoulders. No one will ever hurt him. He won't allow it. You won't allow it. You are his, and he is yours.
"Tav..."
"Hm?"
"You see the scars every day. How repulsive do they look?"
"They don't."
"Tav, for fuck's sake..."
You touch his curls and make Astarion look at you. "They don't. I feel sick when I think about how you got them. I tremble every time I realize that when I was happy, when I had fun, when I cheered - you were tortured at that dungeon with no hope to escape. But the scars themselves don't look that awful. I thought so the moment I saw them for the first time. I still think so."
He smiles and kisses your forehead. Your heart melts.
"So, I can touch your back now, or I still should ask first?"
"Don't ask. Let's… limit consent to strictly sexual things, if I can word it this way."
"Deal."
"And about what happened earlier. I am sorry-"
You smile and put your thumb against his lower lip.
"Don't you dare apologize."
--
Tel'Quessira - Elves ("the people")
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl@starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster@caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes
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coryosbaby · 5 months
Text
—ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛᴏʀ.
Dark! Mike Shmidt x fem! family friend! Reader
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♡ Content warning . mentions of a custody battle, enemies to lovers with no real explanation, stuck in an elevator trope — hard dom! Mike, oral (m recieving), pnv, doggy, , degradation, rough hate sex, creampie, breeding
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“…And that is why, Mr… Shmidt. That is why, as of right now, we are placing Abby in this young lady’s care.”
Mike’s jaw clenches as he watches his own personal hell unfold before him. He watches you sign the custody form for Abby, watches the pink fur hat on top of your head and your dumb revealing sweater and your short skirt and wonders why in the hell the court would ever choose a slut like you over him to care for a child. You have a good job and experience in childcare, sure, but Mike knows you. You don’t know your right from your left (literally). What makes anyone think that you can take care of his little sister?
He clenches his fists at his sides. You have a smug look on your face, as if you’ve won the Cold War. You have a tendency to challenge Mike, but he never thought you’d take it this far. Keeping family out of your quarrels was always an unspoken agreement. Mike clears his throat, shoving down the anger blooming in his chest.
“Understood.” He mutters. “I’ll bring some of her stuff over as soon as possible.”
Smiling, you get up from your seat (one you had asked for after the first one was too hard, or some dumb shit).
“Great! I’m glad we have the matter settled.” And then, with an amused, despicable glint in your eye, “No hard feelings, Mikey.”
Mikey. A name he hasn’t heard from your lips in such a long, long time. He’s so close to doing the same thing that he did to that guy in the fountain to you. Never in his life has he ever been so provoked to hit someone. But he holds back, let’s out a breath of air, and says nothing. The lawyers around the both of you pack up, sensing the tension but not wanting to deal with it. You gather up your purse and pull out a tube of lipstick, reapplying it onto your lips through a compact mirror. Shutting it, you see that Mike is the only one in the room.
“Walk with me?” You ask, and Mike’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“What?”
“This whole building is filled with only men,” you infer, frowning. “I don’t like it. You’re the only one I trust.”
His eyes, enraged, look at you as he clenches his jaw.
“I wouldn’t.”
Rolling your eyes, you begin to walk out of the room. Mike trails behind you, ignoring the swaying of your curves as you open the glass door. He catches up to you in an instant, as you head for the elevator.
“This is low, you know. Even for you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t about me and you, Mike. It’s about Abby.”
He scoffs, as you both approach the big metal elevator at the end of the hallway. “Yeah, right. Because you’ve always had such a desire to be a mother.”
Turning to him as you press the down button in front of the elevator, your gaze is harsh.
“You don’t know me, Mike.”
Mike smiles, not a hint of amusement on his face.
“I know enough.”
And turning towards the elevator, he steps in. You follow him afterwards, rolling your eyes as the door slides shut.
After a few seconds, however, a groaning sound escapes from the confines of the small box. Eyebrows furrowing, your heart beginning to pound, you watch with horror as the emergency light flashes on the elevator wall. The contraption stops completely, and now you’ve come to terms with your worst nightmare.
Your stuck in this fucking elevator.
And as if God is punishing you, he also decides to stick you in this enclosed space with Mike fucking Schmidt.
You want to die.
Anxiety begins to plague you; not necessarily from being alone with Mike. More so of being stuck in a small room such as this. The claustrophobia is really not helping you right now.
“What the fuck?” Mike curses loudly. “Why the hell isn’t it working?”
“How the fuck should I know?” You snap, putting your head in your hands. You lean back against the nearest wall and slide down against it. Your bottom lip wobbles, your foot tapping anxiously, but you refuse to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.
Mike looks closely at you, his mouth forming into a frown.
“Are you crying?”
You quickly shake your head, embarrassment dripping off of you in waves as you conceal yourself. After a moment, you can hear the sound of Mike pulling out his cell phone. He researches the name of the building and types in their number.
“Hey,” he says to the person on the other line. “Yeah, we’re trapped in one of your elevators, man. It just stopped. I don’t know—“
He pauses, listening to the other person reply.
“Oh. Is there anyway that you can get it fixed… quicker? … of course, of course. I understand. Thank you.”
Hanging up the call, he groans, and slides down to the floor across from you.
“They said it’s done this before and it’ll be an hour before they can get it up and running again.”
A few stray tears fall from your face, and you sniffle. “Okay.”
Mike sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“Stop.” He mutters. “Stop crying. It’s pathetic.”
Your face crinkles up in anger and you wipe your eyes with your hands.
“Fuck you.”
Mike scoffs, turning his head to the side with a smirk on his face.
“Again?”
You growl, angrily typing on your phone on twitter as a way to ignore him.
Mike watches you with contempt. His eyes trail over your legs, thick thighs wrapped up in fishnet stockings. You’ve changed your hair color since you last saw him.
“Your hair looks nice,” he states, and you’re confused as to why he’s being nice for a moment. Until his mouth is dripping with malice and he says, “Abby likes that color.”
You scoff, flicking your acrylics as you attempt to wipe off the mascara that had run down your face.
“Whatever.” You say snarkily, and Mike’s head snaps towards you, his jaw clenching once again.
“Why are you such a bitch?” He seethes, as if he hasn’t been a complete dickhead for the past ten minutes. You shrug, slipping your coat off your shoulders. It’s become unbearably hot in here.
“Why are you so stupid?” You reply, then smirk. “Your iq must be as low as your height.”
“Oh, fuck you.” Mike growls, throwing his phone down next to him. “You’re so petty. You insult people like a child.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so full of it I wouldn’t have to.”
Mike’s fists clench at his sides, but he says nothing. But of course, you can’t keep your mouth shut.
“How have you been sleeping, by the way? Are you still…” You motion your hands as if you’re popping a pill into your mouth.
Mike’s jaw clenches tightly as he glares at you.
“That’s none of your business.”
“It kind of is, actually,” you press. “A pillhead taking care of a child is definitely a scandal.”
He doesn’t say anything. His fingers tap against the metal floor of the elevator.
“Don’t worry, though.” Smiling, you tilt your head. “Even if you hate me, Abby is going to be so much happier with me then she is with you.”
And with a head that whips around faster than lightening, Mike snaps.
He pushes himself up to his feet and gets down on his knees in front of you to grab your throat with his strong hand. Shaking you, gripping the sides of your neck like he intends to kill, he sneers.
“Say one more thing about it, you fucking slut. I dare you.”
You should be scared. But you’ve always loved a challenge, and right now seems to be a big one. You just smirk at him and peer through hooded lashes.
“Or what?” You mumble out. It’s hard to talk, or even breathe, but it doesn’t matter. Because as fucked up as it is, this is lowkey turning you on— but you aren’t going to admit that.
Leaning in closer to you so he can pierce through your eyes with his burning gaze, Mike chuckles dryly. A dangerous glint flashes through his eyes.
“Or I’ll fucking kill you.”
Something clenches in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s fear or arousal. Your vision is starting to blur, and with teary eyes you shake your head against his grip. He looks down to your chest before finally releasing you of his grasp. Your doe eyes look up at him with something Mike can’t quite place as you gasp for air and your nimble fingers begin to massage your throat.
And something switches in him, as he looks down at you. Watching you sit on the floor with your skirt riding up, your makeup all messy and smeared, your tits hanging out. He wants to make you hurt.
“Get on your knees.”
It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, and you’re taken aback.
“What?” You say, exasperated.
“Did I fucking stutter?” He reaches down, hands wrapping around your hair as he yanks you towards his handsome face. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”
Gulping, you look at the now prominent tent in his jeans, and back up to him. You move up onto your knees, just like he asked. He begins unbuckling his belt. Soon he slides it out of the belt loops and wraps it around your throat. You squeak when he ties the leather around your neck, and Mike gives it a tug as a way to check the sustainability. It doesn’t budge.
“Just like you need,” he grunts, letting go of the leather and beginning to unbutton his fly. “A leash. Some fucking discipline, for once.”
Watching with your mouth agape, Mike unzips his fly and reveals his underwear.
“Mike—“ you start, but he shuts you up when he hooks his thumbs around the waist of his briefs.
“Shut up.” He snaps. He pulls the fabric down, his thick cock slapping against his lower stomach. Everything is happening so quickly and it has your head spinning. He grabs the leather around your neck and tugs, practically shoving your face against his cock. His precum smears on your cheek and your pussy clenches.
“Suck it.” He says harshly. Your mouth, still open in an O, catches on Mike’s aching tip and he lets out a low hiss. He harshly presses his cockhead deeper into your mouth, grinding his hips as a way to push himself further into you. “I said suck it, bitch.”
You cry against him, but all the while your wetness is beginning to seep down your thighs. Your tongue lolls out against your own will, tasting a sliver of the cock you used to know so well.
“Fuck,” Mike grunts. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag loudly. “Missed this slut mouth…”
His fingers wrap around the belt again, and he pulls forward. Your throat is already starting to feel sore from his harsh fucking. Your hands land on his thick hairy thighs, gripping the skin as you try your best to take him.
Even when you hate him, you can’t help but do your best to please.
“Always running that fuckin’ mouth,” Mike rants. “Always needing something to shut it the fuck up.”
You mewl around his cock, working your lips up and down against his awaiting thrusts. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, your neck and face incredibly hot. His heavy sack slaps against your chin with each hit. When you make a small, pained sound around him, the pressure on your throat causing a lot of pain, Mike just chuckles.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
Your head is fuzzy, your mind already fucked out. And like god answers your prayers, Mike finally, finally pulls you off of his length. You fall to the floor with a heaving cough as you try to gain oxygen back to your lungs. He grabs your limp body and flips you onto your stomach, his large hands taking hold of your thighs and pulling you up so your ass is in the air. He flips your skirt up, exposing you to the small space of the elevator and snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.
“Such a little cocktease,” mike rants, his thumb rubbing over one of your asscheeks. “Always tryna’ rile me up. Aching for my attention.”
You whimper when he pulls down your lace underwear in one go, not even bothering to fully take it off and instead keeping it wrapped around your knees. He spreads your asscheeks in his hands, watching your asshole clench and your pussy drip with need.
“Been real quiet since I fucked your throat,” he continues, and you hear rusting behind you. “Guess I finally figured out a way to shut you up.”
And when his pants are down to his thighs and his bare cock presses against your entrance, you drool onto the dirty floor below you. Mike’s cock stretches your tight walls ruthlessly, and he doesn’t hesitate to push fast into you so he can fuck you sooner. His big hand splays across the back of your head and pushes you down onto the floor tiles, your cheek cold from the material touching your skin. His grip is mean, cold, and he begins to pound you with no remorse, no mercy, no sympathy. You cry as his hips slap against your backside, mutters of “Mikey, please, Mikey,” spilling from your cockdrunk lips. His hands wrap around his belt, the one around your neck, and he pulls it taut against your throat. You choke, gasping for breath, and your vision blurs. His breath is hot against your ear as he utters out another set of words.
“Such a good little fuckhole…I missed it, shit.”
Your hand wraps around the belt to loosen his hold. He lets up, but his thrusts do not. Your knees ache and will probably bruise later, but’s it’s worth it. You can feel he’s close by the way he keeps slurring his filthy words, the way his thrusts begin to stutter. Your eyes widen as his cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you up and spilling over the rim of your pussy. He collapses against you, and you yourself have already collapsed against the floor with your body arching at an almost impossible angle. Mike slips out of you, watching the way his cum drips down your thighs, and lets out a chuckle.
“Guess you’ll have another kid to take care of now.”
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notes: this is absolutely terrible, take it as u will
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noonblight · 1 year
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Arven, And The Habits Built By Parental Neglect
So I was going to make this big song and dance post about Arven’s entire arc and character psychology but I think other people have picked that one apart better than me. However I DO still want to talk about something I haven’t seen addressed too much.
As much as I think the phrase ‘love language’ is a gross over-simplification of psychology (and also not real, go look it up, the guy who made it was awful) it’s actually a really fitting term for the thing I want to talk about, which is how Arven has built up a habit of caring for others despite the neglect his parents showed him, and made it a core part of his personality. In essence, he’s deemed himself the ‘mom friend’ because he never had that kind of support growing up.
You can see this throughout multiple parts of the game, but here’s my list of favourites:
• If you pick the dialog option and say that you’ll go along with Arven’s quest-line before he explains what you’ll be doing, he exclaims that you have no sense of caution for your own safety. That you shouldn’t just go brazenly dashing into agreements like that.
• He is always looking after Mabosstiff so tenderly, and while a lot of this is due to them growing up together, I think it’s the way he shows his care for Mabosstiff that communicates my point.
• After noticing Miraidon eat your sandwich, he begins to make extra ones so that you don’t go without one. He even splits his own sandwich with you after Miraidon steals the first one you ever make together.
• He mentions that he cleans his dorm every day he’s there because Maboschiff sheds fur a lot.
• Post-Game, he admits that he would like to be a chef who can make good food for others.
Basically, I adore the tiny writing detail that even Arven’s positive traits are still shaped by the parental neglect that he went through, because it’s surprisingly realistic for the writing of a kid’s game.
He’s messy, he’s allowed to grieve and be confused about his feelings openly, he’s allowed to be irritable and strange in the eyes of others. But the game also never lets you forget how much he truely cares for others, even those he doesn’t know very well.
This can also be subtly inferred from just how amazingly fast Arven manages to raise a team that is arguably the only bordering-on-difficult fight in the game. Arven claims to not be a good trainer and claims Mabosstiff was his only pokémon before the events of the game (we can infer this from how he mentions after your first battle with him that he only just caught that Skwovet)
But just look at how fast he manages to make a team! Your trainer is always complimented for their rapid success, but man, they should look at Arven who doesn’t even have that much skill at the start of the game. I like to think this improvement is a direct result of his care for his Pokémon, and his desire to help and protect others. It’s no wonder why he claims in the post-game tournament that he’s been working super hard to build a team that can protect his loved ones, he really means it.
Arven also has a terrible habit of attempting to do most things by himself until the absolute last minute. He refuses to ask Nemona for help with the titans despite knowing she has the skills for it. He only asks you when he’s at his wit’s end starting to lose hope in Mabosstiff, and notices that you had the skill to work with Miraidon.
Even more than all that stuff I mentioned before however, I adore the end cutscene of the game for taking Arven, this character who displays all these little quirks, and then turns around and says ‘it’s your turn to be cared for by people who care about you, you don’t need to do this alone’
Nemona tells the group to take the scenic route home.
Penny suggests snacks.
Miraidon gently pushes Arven toward the group.
And the last scene in the game is so important for that reason, Arven is finally having others care for him. After everything that has happened, he has at least a few people who will support him and show him that care his parents lacked.
So anyway happy holidays, have that shoddy analysis <3
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bloodmoonmuses · 3 months
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stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee
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genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)
warnings: mentions of food!
summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.
You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance. 
The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place. 
“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”
So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it. 
“That’s all I got,” you had confessed. 
You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time. 
When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.
“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.
“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for. 
“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone. 
“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.
“She’s a free spirit,” you contest. 
“So you let her wander.” 
“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?
June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.  
“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?” 
“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”
“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.
You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it. 
You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel. 
You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”
“Ouch.”
“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.” 
“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”
“Nice enough.”
“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.
“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.” 
As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.” 
Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.” 
“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.
“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.
“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”
You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”
The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea. 
“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you.  “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.” 
It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.
Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”
As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl. 
“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”
“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)
“Perfect.”
That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.
You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic. 
Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.
 In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.
“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here-  fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza. 
“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”
“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.
“Venice, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.
“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls. 
“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.” 
“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch.  You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.
“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.
“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”
“I agree.”
You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue. 
You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind. 
“Mark?” you say.
“Hmm….”  He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.
“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer. 
You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.
Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”
“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”
“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…
“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!” 
Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.” 
Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him. 
You simply love him.
“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.
“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.
“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”
He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 
The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.
“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.
“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”
“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.
“Yeah. I think so.” 
“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”
“Very funny, asshole.” 
Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.
“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods. 
You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.  
“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?” 
“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”
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