#To would go chase after it like in a fetch with a dog

[sentientsheepdog]

My thoughts on what kind of hybrid the 141 guys would have (all more or less accidental acquisitions since none of these guys have normal or predictable schedules) Tw for sensitive topics (past neglect/ bgc suicide/trafficking)

Gaz: Grey parrot hybrid that escaped neglect and hit his window. The concussion was barely a memory by the time all their pulled feathers had grown back. He loves showing off his healthy, shiny birdie in pictures (don't you dare call the grey drab that's thinnnn ice look how shiny its basically silver arent they so pretty) and takes great pride in keeping them happy. Always smiling like the sun when he gets to go home because his birdie will tell him all about every piece of entertainment they devoured while he was gone over some fruity treat and season appropriate drink. Loves taking his bird out book shopping and to museums, Birdie needs enrichment and he needs to spend time in society. The anklet his bird wears has a tracker in it, just in case they get lost or worse.

Soap: wild Snake hybrid he kept from a worse fate by catching them before they reached his neighbours chicken coop. Hissed and struck at him all the way back to his living room until they felt the heat from the hearth and proceeded to curl up and sleep for hours. They always hang off the beams in his farmhouse whenever he gets home to 'scare' him. He plays along just to take their heating pads as 'punishment'. Wild thing can't admit they want to cuddle up. That's alright. Johnny can read his hissy housesitter like a picture book and enjoys the little game they play. He still hasn't quite managed to catch the iridescent glint of their scales in his paintings, but he's working on it every chance he gets.

Ghost: Bunny hybrid he found sitting on his cabin porch. Poor thing got lost, and was so scared it bit him when he tried to herd it inside. Couldn't find them for 3 days when he let them out of his sight for a second after cleaning the filthy stray, found them shoulder deep in the fridge at 4 in the morning with a mouth full of chocolate still in the wrapper. Frequently and fondly thinks back on the adorable growl they let out when he wrestled the plastic out of their mouth. Wouldn't admit it but has grown fond of the flighty fluffball and its tendency to nap on him. Let's him play with their soft tail like a stress ball. Drags their ears down over their eyes to initiate play since they made fun of his mask with he gesture and got chased around for it.

Price: ESA Dog hybrid he took in when the previous owner took his own life a while after being medically discharged. Takes the hybrid to base with him at every opportunity so the bored pup can make use of their training by hanging around medics and keeping everyone calm. Wanders back to his office eventually and curls up in their bed under his desk until he's ready to leave for the day. Fetches him anything and everything he asks, even the occasional water bottle and snack he didn't ask for when he's focused on work. Acts like he begrudgingly lets them sleep in his bed when they have a perfectly fine one in their room, probably couldn't sleep without them there if he was honest about it.

Nikolai: Pangolin hybrid he got as a bonus on a business deal. He was thoroughly unimpressed with the unnegotiated crate he unpacked back in the Hangar, even less so when he heard scratching from inside it. Has a starring contest with the pitch black eyes that peek out at him he loses when their dark clawed scaly hands grab onto the remaining slats and rip the crate apart. He can't bring himself to give them up to a sanctuary, so he moves them into a homestead of a safe house where they are as safe and free as can be. Visits often to keep the mute hybrid entertained and supplied with everything they can't forage, grow, or make. Is guilty of fueling up extra to watch the hybrid happily sit in the rotor wash with bristled scales. Never leaves the homestead empty-handed, Pangolin is living in abundance and always has some hand-made treats on hand to share.

[etheluu]

Finally made a proper concept art for To's original form

If I ever decide on making a 3D model for them, I'll surely enjoy it (/s). It's not likely I will at this moment, but there is that very small possibility.

[niwaart]

The Forgotten Twin

-part1 -part2

5:30 AM

The alarm didn’t beep. Y/N never needed one. His body had long since been trained to wake before dawn, a remnant of his time in the League.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. The Manor was still dark.

Damian’s probably already training with Dick.

Y/N’s room was neat—too neat. No posters, no personal touches. Just a bed, a desk, and a single framed photo on the nightstand: a rare picture of him and Damian as children, before the world taught them they were not equals.

He touched the glass, tracing Damian’s scowling face.

At least he has them.

6:00 AM

Alfred was already in the kitchen. The moment Y/N stepped in, the butler offered a small, polite smile.

"Good morning, Master Y/N. Pancakes or eggs today?"

"Pancakes, please. Thank you, Alfred."

He sat at the far end of the table, where he always did. No one else was here yet. Bruce had likely been up all night working. Dick and Damian would eat later, after training. Jason rarely came home. And Tim?

Tim would walk in, see Y/N, and immediately turn to leave, grabbing a protein bar instead.

Y/N ate in silence, staring at his plate.

7:00 AM

Gotham Academy was a refuge

Here, no one knew he was the other Wayne twin—the one nobody talked about. His classmates smiled at him. Asked about his weekend. Invited him to sit with them at lunch.

If only they knew how pathetic I really am.

He forced himself to laugh at their jokes, to participate in class, to pretend he wasn’t counting the minutes until he had to go back home.

3:30 PM

The moment he stepped inside, the dread settled in his stomach.

"Tt. Finally decided to grace us with your presence?" Damian’s voice dripped with disdain as he leaned against the staircase, Titus by his side.

Y/N flinched. The massive dog’s dark eyes locked onto him, ears perked.

"H-Hey, Damian," Y/N whispered, edging along the wall. "How was… training?"

Damian smirked. "Productive. Unlike your playtime at school."

"Titus. Fetch."

The dog lunged.

Y/N’s breath seized. He ran.

Titus barked, claws scraping against marble as he chased. Y/N’s heart pounded, tears blurring his vision as he sprinted up the stairs, barely making it to his room before slamming the door shut.

Outside, Damian’s laughter echoed.

"Pathetic."

Y/N slid to the floor, trembling.

4:00 PM

He tried to focus on his assignments. But the words blurred together.

Why does he hate me so much?

A knock at the door.

Y/N’s breath hitched. Someone came?

"Y/N?" Dick’s voice.

For one wild, foolish second, Y/N’s heart leapt. He noticed. He finally—

"Have you seen my escrima sticks? Damian said you might’ve moved them."

Y/N’s shoulders slumped.

"N-No. Sorry."

"Huh. Weird. Okay, thanks."

Footsteps faded away.

Y/N stared at his hands.

Of course. Why would he want anything else?

6:30 PM

Bruce was here tonight. A rare occurrence.

Y/N sat quietly, picking at his food as the others talked—well, argued.

Jason and Damian were in a heated debate about something. Tim was texting under the table, ignoring everyone. Dick was mediating. Bruce was… staring at his plate, lost in thought.

No one looked at Y/N.

"Y/N."

Bruce’s voice.

Y/N’s head snapped up, pulse racing. He said my name. He—

"Pass the salt."

"…Oh. Right."

He handed it over, forcing a smile. Bruce didn’t even glance at him.

8:00 PM

Y/N had an idea.

If he could help them, maybe they’d see him.

He crept into the Cave, where Tim was working on the Batcomputer.

"Tim, I—I thought maybe I could… assist you? I’m good with tech, and—"

Tim didn’t turn around. "I don’t need help."

"But I—"

"Leave, Y/N."

The words were a knife.

Y/N swallowed hard and walked away.

9:30 PM

Sleep didn’t come easy.

When it did, it brought nightmares—Ra’s’ voice, cold and mocking. "You are nothing. Nothing."

Y/N woke with a gasp, sweat-drenched and shaking.

The Manor was silent.

No one came to check on him.

Why would they?

11:00 PM

Y/N stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection.

Green eyes. Pale skin. A face so like Damian’s, yet so unwanted.

"Why am I even here?"

His fingers gripped the sink.

"Do they want me to disappear?"

A sob tore free.

Y/N let himself cry.

Y/N didn’t sleep that night.

Instead, he sat by his window, watching the moon.

A thought crept in—dark, unbidden.

Maybe… they’d be happier if I wasn’t here.*

And the worst part?

He wasn’t sure they’d even notice.

@c4cocoa @rainschnael @sonyboos @quietplace26 @luvstodin @nxdxswolrd

[syn0vial]

BG3 Companions' Reactions Following Scratch's Permadeath

The following lines are triggered when a character throws Scratch's ball after he's been permakilled (AKA, killed at camp rather than just as a summon).

Astarion

Good riddance to the dog. Who'd miss that waggy little tail... (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)

Does it have a sad squeak now? Is that even possible?

I suppose I'll just pick it up myself.

Can't believe the stupid dog isn't here to get the stupid ball. (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)

Gale

You were an excellent friend, Scratch - and that's coming from a cat-lover.

I hope there's balls and bones galore, wherever you are...

Poor Scratch. I'm lucky to have met you.

I hope Scratch doesn't miss his ball, wherever he is...

Karlach

I miss my dog.

Here, pup. (devnote: Sadly. The dog is dead and she knows this.)

Why am I doing this to myself?

Scratch should be here. With his family.

Lae'zel

It's not much fun alone.

I really don't know what I thought would happen.

Solo fetch. A miserable pastime.

Can't believe I'm going to say this, but - I miss Scratch.

Shadowheart

I need to stop doing this to myself...

I didn't do this enough, when I had the chance.

I hope Scratch has a new ball to play with, wherever he is...

It's silly... part of me felt like Scratch might still show up for his ball.

Wyll

Fetch isn't much of a solo game.

Damn. I miss the furry fellow.

For old times' sake.

I miss you, Scratch.

Halsin

I hope you are happy, wherever you are.

I am sorry, Scratch

I torment myself - Scratch is not going to come

Poor Scratch. I hope he is at peace.

Jaheira

Enough. This isn't helping anyone.

You deserved better, boy

Gods, but you'd miss the fuss. The noise. Gods above, even the smell.

Pointless, without a pup to chase it.

Minsc

Scratch, come and... oh. How could I forget he was gone, Boo?

No game of fetch will bring Scratch back from death.

I know he is gone, Boo, but... perhaps this is a way of keeping him alive, no?

I miss him, Boo.

Minthara

Everyone assumes I killed the dog. I liked the dog. (devnote: talking to herself. Comic edge to this.)

Scratch reminded me of my first displacer beast. A noble creature.

Withers! Be a good skeleton and fetch that ball. (devnote: joking—doesn't actually expect Withers to fetch the ball she just threw)

Gah. I miss the damn dog. (devnote: surprised by her own feelings)

[eclipseberrycake]

Fetch (Razzle and Dazzle x T! Reader)

AN: idk what to put for this one tbh. normally I just yap here but I got nothing to yap about. Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go play Dandy's world :D

This is a request!

☁ ...They...They weren't sure where to go from here in all honesty. There was never a handbook on Twisteds and everything they knew had come from the distractors bringing back their own findings alongside Rodger's almost manic need for information.

☁ But....This one was new. By all accounts, you appeared like a normal twisted, charging and chasing the first toon you saw- which was the distractor. They had made it a point to actively avoid looking in your direction, their chest aching at the very thought of seeing you so...upset.

☁ They knew first hand how being a twisted felt, but they couldn't imagine going through it more than once. You had gotten caught on a box last during one of the last runs and Scraps had managed to snag you back out of their arms just as the elevator shut.

☁ It was a particularly cruel turning, most agreed, and they hadn't left their room for days. This run was the first they had been on since, having dug up enough will that convince themselves that their love for you was greater than the disgrace they felt for letting you down.

☁ But to return to a run and for...this? They almost considered leaving. But they couldn't. Especially not with how you were looking at them. While your eyes were stained the trademark red, they looked up at them like they hung the stars in the sky.

☁ You were crouched on the balls of your feet as you stared up at them, the handle of a medkit clutched between your sharpened teeth. Razzle and Dazzle had to look at each other.

☁ They were pinned against the machine they were working on, looking for an exit. You were much faster then they were on this floor however, so any chance they had would prove fruitless and most likely get them hit. It's like you were taunting them, really. They'd been caught twice already and their healers were stretched thin with the distractors- especially with Brightney and Vee running about and their low stealth. That must've been how you got away.

☁ You weren't immediately attacking though, so that was a plus.

☁ "Hi, baby!" Razzle, ever the optimist, waves, while Dazzle looks around for any one of the distractors. Looey was coming up, cautiously, holding an airhorn in his hand. He made eye contact with them and they nodded, and he let it rip.

☁ You looked back and growled around the med kit, but to both their surprises, you didn't move. Well, not towards Looey. You didn't even look like you were considering it. No, instead you turned to face Looey, backing up as if you were protecting them.

☁...From Looey. The balloon dog.

☁ Razzle had to snicker even as Dazzle looked exasperated at the thought. Looey blinked at the action, looking up towards them, then back to you. "You...You gonna be okay with them? I can stay nearby for Panic just in case."

☁ "They seem un-aggroed right now, so I supposed we'll be okay." Dazzle muttered. "But maybe stay nearby if the other have the other twisteds under control."

☁ Looey nods with a salute. "Aye, Aye. I'll try to stick between you and them just in case of strays. Lightspeed, my friend."

☁ Watching Looey leave, Razzle and Dazzle are left looking at you. You hadn't stopped growling until after Looey was out of your sight. Then, and only then, you turned to face them again, all traces of aggression gone and over with. Instead, you looked rather comparable to the cat that caught the canary, still holding the medkit that really should've gone to Cosmo.

☁ Dazzle says as much and your face scrunches, as if disgusted by the idea before shaking your head. You drop it at his feet and nudge it towards them, doing it again when they make no move to grab it.

☁ They look at each other once more before calling for Cosmo, even if you visibly anger at it.

☁ The cake roll is quick to abandon whatever he was doing, turning the corner with a raised brow before eyeing the med-kit. He opens his mouth to say something as he fully steps around the corner only to pause, blinking as he stares at the twisted in front of them.

☁ You aren't growling, but you look close to doing so. The three of you stand at a stale mate.

☁ Then Cosmo holds his hands up in an act of surrender, watching you like he would watch a rowdy pet rather than a twisted. They know he has quite the experience built up with Twisteds, and honestly, they'd probably go to him for answers before they went to Rodger, so whatever lead he takes, they'll follow.

☁ All of this was working towards getting you back anyway, so the more research they can get towards the subject is a win for them.

☁ "I understand your worry." Cosmo startles them as he talks, but not to either Razzle or Dazzle, but to you. His eyes are locked onto you as he slowly kneels, holding a hand out. "I'll heal them first. I promise. But I need that so I can make sure we all can make it back to the lobby. You want to get better, right? I need that to give you the best shot at coming back."

☁ He speaks like he's dealing with a rowdy child and you whine at this, turning back to them. Dazzle nods to emphasize this while Razzle beams. "He's right! You know Dazzle and I miss you a whole bunch, but we need time to get you back, spotlight!"

☁ You look at both of them, then at Cosmo, picking up the medkit and dropping it on the other side of you, pushing it towards Cosmo. The cake roll immediately uses it, pulling out a treat out of his side pouch and tossing it to them.

☁ Razzle catches it and immediately digs into it under your careful watch while Dazzle's too busy watching Cosmo. "How'd you know how to do that?"

☁ Cosmo shrugs before nodding behind him. "I've been in the situation where a twisted shows a bit of...cohesion. Unlike the clones, they're still in there, it's just...getting to them." There's a far away look in his eyes that's blinked away near immediately.

☁ Dazzle takes this for what it is and lets the subject drop, instead turning his attention to where you're now watching them much more happily.

☁ You don't leave their side, even as panic hits, walking them the elevator despite Looey's attempts to call your attention away. You let them go and even wave in a manner that is pure claws and clumsy movements.

☁ It's one of the last runs needed before they can get you back, but they make sure to bring the duo every time after. It keeps you calm and docile, even if you snatch medkits away from Cosmo and Sprout just to bring them to Razzle and Dazzle- just for the entire process of explaining that Cosmo needs it more to repeat.

☁ Bands are free game and you refuse to budge on those; even if they give it to Cosmo when the elevator closes anyway.

☁ It doesn't stop there. Since you're on the floor before any of them, you're able to scout out the best of the best and drop it at their feet. Bottles of pop, boxes of chocolate, jumper cables, there's even been the memorable valve that you took out of Boxten's pocket.

☁ While they're greatful that you don't immediately snap on them, they miss you something fierce and work hard to get you back.

☁ It almost hurts their heart, watching you lean into Razzle's hand while Dazzle uses the antidote to bring you back, almost as if they're using your blind trust in them to manipulate you into coming back.

☁ But when you wake up and immediately lace both their faces in a flurry of kisses and praise, they know it was your way of waiting for them the same way they waited for you.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Dogs

Alien: Why did you take me to here? Alien: You know I hate being outside. Human: How else would I get you to the greatest place on the planet? Alien: *About to ask question when sudden noise distracts them* Alien: *Reads sign on nearby post* Alien: What is a “Dog Park”? ----------------------------- Human: Unlike cats, dogs are man’s true best friend. Alien: And why is that? Human: Because they won’t brutally maim you if you pet them too long. -----------------------------

Alien: What does one do with their dog? Human: Play fetch mostly. Alien: What is fetch? Human: *Picks up ball and throws it* *Nearest dog sprints after it and brings it back* Alien: That’s it? Human: No; now comes the difficult part. Alien: Which is? Human: Trying to get the ball back. ---------------------------

Alien: Aren’t these creatures expensive to maintain? Human: Medical wise they are about the same as cats. Human: Entertainment wise they are much cheaper. Alien: How so? Human: *Picks up nearby stick and wobbles it around* *Golden retriever stops what it was doing and focuses on stick* *Tail begins wagging at turbo speed and they hunch down on two legs with their back legs up* Human: *Hands stick to alien friend* Now you try. Alien: Really? Alien: You think this will- Alien: *Notices dog now focusing entirely on him as he wobbles stick* Alien: Oh my gods…. Human: I know right? Alien: I have become their god now. ----------------------------

Alien: Do they have any weaknesses? Human: Don’t put a mirror in front of them. Alien: What happens if you do? *Pair turns as a dog begins loudly barking* *Pair see a dog barking aggressively at its own reflection* Human: Because of that. Alien: That doesn’t seem so- *Dog leaps at mirror and bonks its head* Human: See? Alien: Question withdrawn. -----------------------

Alien: May I try walking one of these dogs? Human: Are you sure? Human: You’ll need upper arm strength to restrain them if they get excited. Alien: *Looks down at tiny little corgi* Alien: I think I can handle them. *Chuckles* Human: Alright. *Hands leash over* Alien: *Begins walking dog around park* Alien: I don’t know what they were talking about. Alien: This is easy. *Random squirrel runs past corgi and Corgi chases after it* Alien: *Violently thrown to ground by sudden pull and dragged across the dog park* Human: *Watching his alien friend swear in his native language* I’d feel sorry over this, but I warned them so it’s okay to be funny. -------------------------

Alien: *Finally gets free of corgi leash and picks themselves off the ground* Alien: What…*Gasp* the….*double gasp* florp! Alien: How was that tiny creature so strong?! Human: The tiny ones are the most energetic. Human: The big ones are the giant babies of the species. Alien: How does that make any sense at all? Human: *Takes alien by the face and directs their gaze down at excited pitbull8 Human: Look at that smooshy face! Human: Nothing has to make sense when you look at that cute stupid smooshy face! -------------------------

*Dog comes up at starts nuzzling alien* Alien: Ah; you are an adorable creature. *picks up dog and cradles it like a baby* Alien: *Starts rubbing its belly* Human: *Notices and comes over* Human: I’m glad you’re starting to warm up to them. Alien: *Nods* They are enjoyable after a period. Human: Just as an FYI, that’s a Pug and when they’re on their back they can’t breathe. Alien: WHAT!? Alien: *Immediately puts dog down and it gasps several times* Alien: I didn’t….you mustn't think I would.. Human: Just wait a sec. *Alien watches pug take several more deep breaths before looking up at him and starts wagging tail again.* Alien: They are not very smart, are they? Human: We call that their “Derp” factor. ------------------------------

Human: Hey Greg. Human 2: Yo. Alien: What are you doing? Human 2: Playing “Hide and go seek” with my dog Burt. Alien: *Begins looking around* Where is this- *sees Burt standing behind bench poorly hid* Alien: I can see- Human 2: Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. Human 2: Don’t make eye contact. Alien: Why not? Human 2: Because you need to wait five minutes searching the entire park before you find him; it makes him feel like a really good boi. Alien: But why not just- *Human 2 leans in close* Human 2: So help me if you look at him before those five minutes are up and make him sad I will hit you with my car. Alien: Wait what!? Alien: You can’t be serious! Human: *nods* Dog people take their pets happiness very seriously. Alien: But to hit someone with a car? Human: *Shrugs* I once shot a guy for throwing an empty soda can at my little bugger. Alien: You take your dog’s very…..seriously, I see. Human: Is there any other way?

[human-dog-pound]

Elliot Kane was a name that lit up marquees and magazine covers—a 32-year-old actor with chiseled features, tousled black hair, and a smoldering intensity that had made him Hollywood’s go-to heartthrob. He’d starred in blockbusters as brooding detectives, charming rogues, and tragic heroes, but behind the red-carpet smiles, Elliot harbored a secret: he was gay, and he’d spent his career carefully guarding that truth from the world.

One night, after a long day of dodging paparazzi, Elliot scrolled through his Instagram DMs, deleting the usual flood of thirst traps and fan gushing. Then one message caught his eye—simple, unassuming, from a guy named Ryan: “Hey, loved you in Shadow Line. That scene with the lighter? Killer. Also, fellow sci-fi nerd here—Blade Runner or 2001?” Intrigued by the lack of over-the-top flattery, Elliot typed back, “Thanks, man. Tough call, but Blade Runner. You?”

What started as a casual exchange about movies spiraled into daily chats. Ryan, a 29-year-old graphic designer from Pasadena, was sharp-witted and grounded, with a goofy charm that disarmed Elliot. They bonded over a shared love of old synth music, obscure comics, and greasy diner food. After weeks of texting, Ryan suggested meeting up. “No pressure,” he wrote. “Just two nerds grabbing burgers.” Elliot hesitated—fans could be unpredictable—but something about Ryan felt safe. He said yes.

Their first hangout at a hole-in-the-wall diner was easy, electric. Ryan’s hazel eyes sparkled when he laughed, and Elliot found himself loosening up, the weight of his public persona slipping away. Soon, they were meeting regularly—late-night drives, movie marathons at Ryan’s apartment, quiet hikes where no one would spot them. The chemistry was undeniable, and Elliot’s guarded heart started to crack open. He’d never let himself fall for a guy before, but Ryan’s warmth was pulling him in.

One evening, sprawled on Ryan’s couch after a Star Wars binge, Ryan grinned mischievously and tossed a popcorn kernel at Elliot. “Fetch, pup!” he teased. Elliot laughed, swatting it away, but Ryan kept going, ruffling Elliot’s hair and cooing, “Who’s a good boy?” in an exaggerated tone. Elliot rolled his eyes, but the playful affection stirred something unfamiliar—something thrilling.

A few days later, over beers on Ryan’s patio, Ryan got quiet, then said, “Okay, weird confession time. You know how I’ve been calling you ‘pup’? I’m… kinda into puppy play. Like, roleplaying as a dog and owner. It’s a kink thing, but it’s also just fun for me.” Elliot blinked, caught off guard. Ryan rushed on, “I don’t mean to freak you out! It’s just… you’d make a cute pup, you know?” He flashed a lopsided grin, but his cheeks were pink.

Elliot’s mind raced. He’d never heard of puppy play, and the idea sounded absurd—crawling around, pretending to be a dog? But Ryan’s earnestness softened the weirdness. “I don’t get it,” Elliot admitted. “What’s the appeal?”

“It’s like letting go,” Ryan said. “No stress, no expectations—just play. And for me, taking care of a ‘pup’ is sweet, you know? Intimate.” He paused, then added, “You’re an actor. Think of it as a role. No pressure—if you hate it, we stop.”

Elliot chewed his lip. He’d spent his life acting, slipping into other skins. Maybe this wasn’t so different. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll try it. But if I look ridiculous, you’re buying me dinner.”

Ryan lit up. He grabbed a spare belt from his closet, fashioned it into a makeshift collar, and knelt in front of Elliot. “Ready, pup?” Elliot nodded, awkward but curious, and dropped to his knees. Ryan scratched behind his ears, murmuring, “Good boy.” Elliot barked hesitantly, feeling silly—until Ryan’s gentle petting melted his self-consciousness. For the first time in years, he felt unscripted, free.

They started small—Elliot scampering around Ryan’s living room, chasing a thrown sock, nuzzling Ryan’s hand for praise. The more they did it, the more natural it felt. Ryan would snap his fingers and say, “Sit,” and Elliot would obey, grinning as Ryan fed him a treat (usually a pretzel). Soon, Elliot was bounding around on all fours in Ryan’s fenced backyard, barking happily while Ryan tugged a leash they’d upgraded from the belt. It was intimate, playful, and oddly liberating—Elliot could shed the polished star and just be.

Trouble came one crisp October morning. They were in Ryan’s yard—Elliot in a leather collar, leash in Ryan’s hand—when a paparazzo perched in a tree across the street snapped a photo. By noon, the image was everywhere: “Elliot Kane on a Leash—What’s He Into?” The internet exploded with memes, speculation, and crude jokes. Elliot’s phone buzzed with panicked calls from his agent, but he just sat on Ryan’s couch, head in his hands.

“I’m screwed,” he muttered. “They’ll crucify me.”

Ryan squeezed his shoulder. “Or… you could own it. You’re happy like this, right? So tell them.”

Elliot looked at him, heart pounding. Coming out as gay was one thing—he’d been inching toward it with Ryan—but as a pup? Yet Ryan’s steady gaze gave him courage. That night, Elliot posted a statement on Instagram: “Yeah, that’s me. I’m gay, I���ve got a boyfriend, and I’m into puppy play. It’s weird, it’s me, and I’m done hiding.” He hit send, braced for backlash.

The response was a tidal wave—some hate, sure, but more support than he’d dreamed. Fans cheered his honesty; queer communities embraced him as a icon. And Hollywood? It adapted. Within months, Elliot landed a role as a loyal hound in a fantasy epic, bounding across sets with a tail prosthetic and a bark that critics called “startlingly authentic.” More dog roles followed—a gruff stray in a drama, a goofy pup in a comedy—and Elliot nailed them all, his ease in the skin of a canine unmatched.

He and Ryan kept their routine, too. After shoots, Elliot would come home, slip into his collar, and curl up at Ryan’s feet, barking for a pat. The world knew him now—gay, pup, and proud—and for the first time, Elliot felt like the star of his own story.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

I just had a thought, and. Big yikes, tbh

It's not unheard of for the shows to sometimes bring in characters from the Fazbear Frights book series. They did it with the Stitchwraith and Everett Larson, they're doing it with Eleanor (thankfully she's not anything like her book counterpart though (yet?)), and I think one of the shows even did it with Fetch, too. To some degree, I think the Mimic also comes from the book series (not sure though, since I haven't read EVERY book or story that's out there)

In the FFNAF show, Fazbear Entertainment has been trying to capture Roxas and Chico. They even yoinked Eleanor for a short bit, before she was rescued. It's been implied that Fazbear’s would likely go to extreme lengths to get the guys, though. Eleanor and Jaq also both apparently share similar code that designates them as being security bots (and spies, in the case of Jaq)

If Fazbear’s gets desperate, what if they deployed Fetch or the Plushtrap Chaser, in an attempt to either spy on the pizzaplex animatronics or forcibly retrieve the guys

Retrieving is kinda Fetch's entire thing, if you read his story. He's able to read a dude's mind and send texts to his phone, and anytime the dude in question even gives the slightest hint that he wants something, even if it's meant in a joking manner, Fetch takes it literally and brings it to him. He killed a dog that attacked the guy, he bit off the dude's uncle's finger, and then he literally killed the dude's crush and brought her to him. He is LETHAL

If incorporated into the FFNAF show, I could see him being the "attack dog" sent by Fazbear’s. His directive is simply to retrieve Roxas and Chico, no matter the cost, and to get rid of anyone who tries getting in the way

The Plushtrap Chaser, from what I remember, is a creepy little Plushtrap doll with realistic human eyes and teeth, who chases after the main characters in his story. Bro literally chewed through plaster, wood, and metal just to get to them, and it wasn't until he got hit by a train that he was finally gone and no longer a threat

If the Plushtrap Chaser was incorporated into the FFNAF show, he could be a new "spy" character. Maybe he shows up and tries to take over the position of "little man," now that Sundroid's gone. It would REALLY piss off Clipsie, and maybe it could drive her to show more of her colors as an Eclipse. I know she's an Eclipse, but when you think about it, she hasn't shown many "Eclipse" traits. She's got the bluntness and she can be mean, sure, but we haven't seen her be cold and calculating, or driven to the point of such rage that she goes on a murder spree. From what we know, she hasn't killed anyone, like Eclipse and Solar have. Somebody trying to replace Sundroid might be what pushes her to lash out in that manner

[paddockbunny]

Don’t Blame Me - Part 2

Summary : You had it bad. You had it so damn bad for a man that was not your boyfriend. And when you arrive in Brazil and find out all the drivers were staying in the same hotel…what happens when it’s suddenly all out there to you, on a plate? Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ft Max Verstappen Word Count : Multi-part imagine - I have zero idea how long this will be but this part is just shy of 3,000 words Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, fantasising having sex with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, slight cheating but not really, no strong warnings but it’s not intended for minors. And I know Max isn’t everyone’s thing so Max Verstappen warning too Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are flashbacks included in the following parts so will be denoted by *** then the time frame the next bit has taken place in x

As you exited the car you smoothed out your skirt and pulled your pass from your bag. You hadn’t planned on attending practice today but when Max shot you some puppy dog eyes you caved. The plan - which you had made in your head - was to get out some of the sexual frustration you were feeling because of Daniel (just from the sheer fact he existed) in the gym and then go to the spa and have someone work out all the knots and kinks in your muscles. But Max pouted and he knew he could win you over with his cute little pouty face. You cancelled your plans for him. You could have been more annoyed by it if he didn’t look so damn good today. And this was the worst part about this weird Daniel fantasy situation. You still very much fancied your boyfriend and you were very much in love with him. You just wished you could know what Daniel felt like and how it would feel to be fucked by him.

Max waited at his side of the car for you with his hand out for you to take. He knew you got nervous around crowds and fans here tended to get a little over zealous. There was nothing that Max wanted you to know more than the fact he was protective of you and wanted to feel safe with him. As you walked hand in hand through the security gates and into the paddock you were chased almost immediately by some fans and camera men. Max held on to you tightly. Not once letting go of your hand. He took some photos with fans from the side but kept up a quick steady pace so neither of you would get swamped.

The Red Bull garage was already a buzz with loud booming music by the time you arrived. In fact, everywhere was awash with excitement and anticipation. The weekend was set to be a thrilling one and as you both walked into RB hospitality you were suddenly very thankful that you had tagged along after all.

After a casual little sit down with Christian and Helmut (which you offered to leave for but they both motioned for you to stay) Max left to go get into his fireproofs and race suit while you remained at hospitality. You were fetching a coffee before heading over to wish him luck in FP1 like you always did when two of the PR girls saddles up beside you. The first race you ever came to Max had asked them to look after you and make sure nothing happened to you. Initially you didn’t want to be a fuss and pull them away from their duties but you actually got along really well and became fast friends. The memory of what you felt the week of your first race flooded back to you. The feeling of sheer panic that you would stick out like a sore thumb for not having a single clue to anyone was or what exactly happened during a race weekend. You tried to watch a few videos on YouTube to work out the basics but you couldn’t follow the rules, what tactics were, overcuts and undercuts and all the sheer amount of people each team needed. You want to bombard Max with questions about his job because you were worried he would get frustrated when he tried to explain it so you asked the girls that worked with the team. The fact they took you “under their wing” sort of say, meant the world to you. It was nice you had made friendships for yourself within the team, something which was so important to Max. Then naturally as you showed up more and more you began to get to know some of the other drivers girlfriends and (even though your shyness kept you reserved) you would chat to them too. You didn’t have anxiety over attending a GP anymore in that sense but because you knew it was inevitable you would see Daniel you were constantly on edge and full of jitters. No more so that right in that particular moment because as if on cue (and the Gods wanted to play a cruel trick on you) he came sauntering past. His race suit pulled down around his waist. Giving you the moment to enjoy taking in his impressive physic. His body was different to Max’s. Leaner. Less broad but none the less attractive. The white fireproofs did little to hide his well formed taunt ab’s underneath. Your mouth watered a little.

Then he went and did it. Wether he sensed you were staring at him or he actually knew you were you couldn’t be sure but he turned his head to look at you. His eyes locked with yours. Those two deep dark pools of coffee coloured orbs were staring right at you. For a brief moment a tiny smile danced upon your lips as you wondered if he liked being stared at or if he liked YOU staring at him. His head tilted slightly backward in a “hey” motion and you knew there was no way you weren’t blushing. Swallowing you felt how quick your heart was going in your chest as you tried to calm your racing mind. This was all his fault - your obsession with him. He started it all. He ignited the flame.

****

April ‘23

Azerbaijan

Fish out of water. That’s exactly what you were. Completely out of your element. It was your first time at a Grand Prix let alone in right there amongst all the action. You didn’t know anyone apart from Max and he was ridiculously busy and the videos you had watched online didn’t tell you what to do when you had VIP credentials dangling from your neck. It was funny to even look down at them in the first place. VIP at a Formula One race. Who would have thought? Certainly not you seeing as you had absolutely zero idea about any of it before you met Max. You giggled to yourself as you remembered the night you first met and asked him what he did for a job. Initially he looked stumped before he smugly replied with “I’m a driver” and, almost pulling the rug from under him you floored him as you quickly responded with; “like an Uber driver?” He recalled that it was the best response he could ever thought of and stated that was the moment he knew he was in trouble, he had fallen for you the very first night you met.

The thought of him swirled around as you decided to venture across the way and get yourself a coffee from hospitality. You walked into brilliant beautiful sunshine and utter chaos. There were people everywhere. Team members in different coloured outfits. Paddock (as you found out it was called) guests. Photographers. TV cameras and their crews everywhere. It was mental. You weren’t expecting this at all. You never realised it was such a big deal. You began to walk over toward the suite Max told you that you could help yourself to whatever you wanted in while he was gone. Attempting to dodge people as they seemed to walk en mass from left to right and right to left. All muddling in together. You were almost there. You had almost made it when BAM! Your side hit something rock hard. Whipping your head round you came face to face with a man wearing a similar outfit to Max’s.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” It must be someone important and you were freaking out. But as much as you were stressing you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. It was like he was hypnotising you. They were so round, full of life and seemed to bore right down deep into your soul. “No problem,” he spoke with an accent “are you lost? Where are you trying to go?” Australian. Distinctly Australian. You watched as his lips parted and he smiled broadly at you. Each one of his dazzling white pearly teeth on full display in the largest smile you had ever seen. “Uh, just here actually, just grabbing a coffee.” Then it dawned on you that he must have been a bit of a big deal because there were a whole bunch of people beginning to crowd around you with caps and shirts with pens ready to thrust in front of him, just like Max had. He must have been a driver too. You glanced away but you saw him take you in. His eyes flickering down across your body - and your VIP lanyard. God, he was hot. Sure you had a boyfriend, a new relationship, but you could still admire a guy couldn’t you? Max wouldn’t care if you thought one of his fellow drivers was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” He said with a wink and as stupid and idiotic as it sounded, your heart skipped a literal beat. Fuck. He winked at you! He checked you out! If you were single you would have been done for.

You hadn’t quite expected to have enjoyed yourself so much during qualifying. Watching the timings and willing your man on was such a thrill. You were still learning about what the technical side of things were but you knew that Max being P2 out of 20 drivers was excellent. When he eventually came back to the garage you were still buzzing with excitement. If this was what it was like watching a race you were going to be buzzing. Max sought you out as soon as he finished talking to Helmut. His smile was broad and he kissed you before saying anything.

“That was amazing.” You couldn’t hold in your excitement any longer “It was ok, hopefully make it up tomorrow.” “Max,” you sighed, astonished “P2 is good. It great, phenomenal even.” He read how happy you were for him and how he had still done something amazing “I know my opinion counts for nothing because I don’t know what’s going on but…” he shook his head and stopped you immediately “You’re opinion mean everything to me.” If you could have swooned and melted into a puddle you would have. No guy had ever treated you like this before. As if you mattered so much to them. It was new to you that you didn’t feel disposable. Max’s words practically knocked the air right out of you because it was something you had always wanted to hear and an emotion you had always wanted to feel. “What happens now?” You ask as you gently caress his cheek. Max explained the next part of the day involved a few more press things and then he was free to leave. He offered for someone to take you back to the hotel so you didn’t have to wait on him but you swiftly refused. You didn’t mind waiting on him, in fact you wanted too.

It took a little over an hour til Max returned and was able to leave for the evening. You had been sitting in his drivers room, chilling, flicking through your phone when he arrived to collect you. As soon as he appeared you felt another rush of pride, amazement, love for him. While he collected his things you arose from the sofa and gently stepped in front of him, arms going around his neck.

“I didn’t really understand what you did, all of this.” Your hands motioned toward the room but you meant the whole racing thing. Max’s eyes were staring right at you as he continued smiling. You loved his icy teal blue eyes and the way they watched you so intently when you were talking to him. He always gave you his full attention. “But I do now and well, I’m a big fan.” You smiled broadly. “Well I better get you some of my merch to wear then.” He burst out laughing and you did too but then he kissed you and the moment went from being sweet to passionate. If someone hadn’t come along and knocked on the door to tell him the car was waiting you were sure you would have been bent over the massage table as he showed you what your words meant to him. But they did and you both gathered your things to go.

The pair of you were exiting the paddock the same way as you had entered this morning. Hand in hand. It had been a phenomenal day and you were thoroughly excited for the actual race and to cheer on your man. You almost came right out with it and tell him how you were ready to scream for him tomorrow but Max beat you to it by implying the little moment in his drivers room wasn’t enough and he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. It made your stomach flip that you finally had a boyfriend that seemed as obsessed with you as you were with them. And the sex with Max was good. Great even. And what’s more it was frequent. It was all the time and it made you feel like the most desirable woman alive. As the thought of your boyfriend tearing off your clothes with burning hunger entered your head you heard Max’s name being called. You figured it must have been a fan wanting a picture or an autograph but when you turned your head the man saddled up on your left side. It was the same guy you had bumped into earlier before qualifying. His deep intense eyes once again linked on to yours making you feel like the air was being sucked out of your lungs.

“Did you hear that the two Haas’ have been disqualified for tomorrow? It’s just come in just now.” The man was speaking to Max but still looking at you. You could feel his eyes taking you in again. Max replied something about the floor under the car and something else about it being obvious. You wondered what he meant and made a mental note to ask him later. Then you accidentally squeezed his hand a little. You hadn’t intended too and did it completely without realising to which Max seemed to pick up on and take as a hint. “Sorry,” Max started as he slowed walking. He made introductions. Daniel. The hot Australian man you had met earlier and who had now flanked your side was called Daniel. That was all you heard. You zoned out before you could hear Max introduce you as his girlfriend or Daniel as his former team mate and friend. “We met earlier…” Daniel recalled as his hand stretched out toward you “You were getting coffee.” You thought it was amazing that he could recall you when there were so many people earlier in the paddock. He must have been introduced and paraded in front of a lot of people just like Max had been. You probably insulted him by banging into him. By not watching where you were walking. “Oh yeah,” you tried to play it cool but you were sure your hand felt like it was burning as it slid into his “I’m so sorry about not watching where I was going.” You apologised again because you didn't want him to think you were rude. With his hand still gripping yours you glanced at Max and informed him that you accidentally walked into him, Daniel, when you were trying to make it through the hectic, crowded paddock to get to hospitality for a coffee. “I didn’t realise you were,” He seemed to pause “Max’s girlfriend.” His hand left yours in that moment and you thought you saw a small whisper of a frown appear on his otherwise smooth forehead. The words seemed more staccato as they left his lips - his full, pouty, kissable lips. And there was no reason to feel deflated but right then you did. It was weird. “Lucky me, right?” Max’s loud laugh interrupted the bizarre staring contest you had been locked in with this fellow racing driver. A shiver almost cast down upon your body as you looked at him. You couldn’t even describe what it was you were feeling but you were feeling something.

“Yeah.” You heard the murmured word leave Daniel’s mouth under his breath but his eyes dropped (finally) from yours and he looked around him “Listen mate, I’ve got to go…” It sounded like an excuse. He looked like he was heading in the same direction as the pair of you were. Max reached past you and gave Daniel’s knuckles a grazing tap as he said he would see him tomorrow, race day. “It was nice meeting you.” You piped up because you weren’t sure he would acknowledge you again. Guys did that, they didn’t always pay attention to the girlfriends. But you didn’t want to seem rude - you had already been when you banged into him earlier. “Nice to meet you too.” Daniel replied with nothing but a fleeting glance. It irked you because up until the moment that Max had explained who you were he had been staring at you so intently you felt like his next meal. He then seemed to hurry away in a different direction as you and Max approached the security gate before the cars. For a first introduction it you couldn’t be confident it had gone well and for some strange reason you felt deflated. You wanted Max’s friends and colleagues to like you, it was important to you that they did. It was important to you that Daniel liked you.

****

“God he’s so hot.” Chrissy, one of your befriended PR girls said from beside you. You knew she was referring to Daniel because you had just been thinking the same thing. “If he ends up coming back to Red Bull, then Christ, it’s going to be a tough job for whoever has to look after him.” Daisy agreed from the other side of you. It was actually nice that you weren’t alone in your thoughts about him but you felt a little annoyed with how they were talking about him. You weren’t stupid. You knew it was because you were jealous. Jealous they had more of a chance with him than you did. “Ready? You’ll want to see Max, wish him luck.” Chrissy snapped you out of your daze.

“Max. Right.” The man you loved - but also the man that stood in the way from acting upon your lust for the man that set your mind ablaze with sexual fantasies.

Part 3 Here

[n0t0lucky]

¤ Goatman / Jeffrey Bonavita ¤

~~General Headcanons~~

my first time doing something like that._. /im thirsty for past month in case of his content, art is not enough!!

¡enjoy!

》he loved working at Hawthorne Exotic Zoo from the stars, eaven before that for sure found stray dog and/or cat as his friends.

》At the beginning of that 'job' had issues with bigger animals during feeding time. Being cornered with a bucket of fish by few bears or tiped over by lions to take steaks just to fight for it among themselves.

》Huge, maybe not super tall, but he's visibly hunged, due to his problem with knook-knee and added weight of big horns, and space in the cage.

》 strong enough to lift a bear or two, did so in the past for sure.

》always wanted to go see the circus, but was threatened by Mr.G that they'll hurt him.

》when he was a bit older, would sneek out at night when Mr.Gardener was asleep, to see the performance at the Hullabaloo Circus.

》he has a dairy with each animal that was in the zoo, theyr own names, preferences, dislikes, specific way of acting and markings to ease recognision, probably gave it few times to his boss, who didn't had much use for it in the end ,and gave role of Beast Tamer to Jeffrey.

》i belive he likes to draw animals, so the notebook had to include some tiny sketchof of them.

》with time, as he helped around the zoo, he grew closer to animals than his caretaker, with resulted in seeing them as his real family and he was the one who needs to take care of them, He was just giveing them a place to be.

》 didn't had much experience with humans, observation was all he did, untill the "meet and great" era, where he lead guests to interact with animals under his guide, teaching mostly younger kids, how to imitate sounds and comunicate with sayd species.

》taught monkey capuchins and lemurs to fetch stuff for him, at the start it would be something simple like a pen, dairy, bag of snack; that would be handet half empty for some reason and keys.

》personally striked Mr.Gardener to dust, for everything he did to him and his 'family'

》Jeffrey is.. people say he's horrendous. But he wasnt always this way. was treated as one of the animals after longer period if being against Mr.Gardener's plans for the Zoo

》He loses control over himself at violet moon (werewolf stye would say). It is rare situation, once in two years, with could be reason of him being chained in the cage durning blue moons phases.

》durning that time, most shows woud be canceled, due too incressed agresion of all animals, including him. Zoned out, acting agresive toward his boss, resulting in being caged together with bigger critters.

》schackles on his wrist, head and ankle are a reminder of what happened, he lost his only family, yet it was a prison. Now, everyone from there is free.. expect him stuck at the mannor now.

》Jeffrey has PTSD, due to everything that happened, he's scared of closed off spaces. pretty ironic looking at his skills, but it triggers "fight or flight" in him. He once again trapped in a cage, having that boiling felling inside.. he needs to strike harder to get freed

》feeds local critters together with Bane at daily basics.

》definitely bff with Morro, both being keept in closure in the past, and haveing animal friends.

》befrends anyone in the manor who likes animals, no matter if they are hunter or survivor. He enjoys sharing his hobby with others.

》for sure has some Cat Lovers club activities on hunters side with Ann and Alva.

》never saw sooo huge Lizard, woud mistake Luchino at first for a comodo dragon in human clothes, will get stared at in disgust. but later happily will listen about all kinds of reptiles from both Professors and Reptilian and would share some of his experiences with haired animals at the zoo, to them.

》when he sees cat's scattered around the map during a match, Jeffrey's sure to give every single one a scratch if he sees one. Durnign chase, after downing survs, woud turn back to spot he saw one and pet it, then later chair his pray.

》Man plays on pan's flute, surely likes to do so in mannors garden, if noticed may apologize for disturbing who found him and move to different spot, he was main performer in Hawthorne Zoo, it is not stage fright.

》 if it's Antonio who noticed him, he will complement the melody and tr to recreate it on his violin. Ifit'ss Frederick.. he's definitely going to call out how bad the notes sound, and he would do it better, making Jeff simply stare at him coldly and walk away without a word. Until the next match..

》if you ask him to stay, he'll asks you if ther are any requests for him to play on the instrument.

_________________________________________

~Jeffrey simps ¤ Including Reader~

》 sometimes when you call him, instead of 'what is it?' or 'yes?' You get 'baah' or 'rawr' in responce. Embarrassed about it a bit, not letting you notice, but his ears turn slightly red and start to twitch.

》 not used to physical tough from a human.. but after some time he would not let you go. Could say he's a big cat, with horns ofcorse! you are traped in his grip, until he says so.

》 he has horns as we know, so prepare for some headbutts. Rare but not non-existing urge to smack something with his horns, may be reason he's hiting them with his hand so offten.

》seeing him without the uniform? Oh boy, hes covered in scars on his back. He doesn't like them, but you say they are beautiful and show how much he went through. Bonus: if you try to trace them, he shiverss slightly.

》 instead of kisses would simply rub noses together or his face against yours.

》loves going on night walks with you watching stars, listening to nature surrounding you both, that's what he always wished for; freedom.

If no one got my people, i got them! can we get an amen?

[adeaddogsdove]

read a fic the other day about sam and dean spending that week after john dies at bobby’s, and the sweet rottie rumsfeld being involved which got me thinking how much i headcannon sam as a dog person. hope to god i did this image of sam justice.

It’s hot and the sun beats down unforgiving as ever, but Dean spends all day out working on Baby. It’s for the car of course, because he needs the car. But it’s also so he doesn’t have to face Sam.

The heat drowns out his thoughts, turns him into some zombie that’s only goal in life is to fix the car. It makes him sick, makes his head hurt if he thinks too hard about it. He probably wouldn’t feel as sick as he does if he let Sam close enough to remind him to drink enough water.

His tan lines are starting to show from wearing an old mildewy white tank top, one that he’d found in the corner of Bobby’s laundry room. His jeans have soaked with sweat, and then dried, so they’re sticky and cool as they cling to his legs. Usually, he wouldn’t be this unclean but there’s a drought so Bobby’s been unnecessarily anxious about laundry.

It’s been four days — maybe three, maybe even five. Dean doesn’t know, the heat makes time pass in weird ways. He finds himself going out under the car early in the morning; and his body carrying him back to the house for dinner just before the sun sets. Counting days hasn’t exactly been his top priority.

Usually, the sound of Sam playing with Rumsfeld lulls him into that state. The door clinks open from across the yard, just barely audible over the sound of Dean’s music. Rumsfeld will bark at Sam once, and Sam will usually laugh. The ball gets thrown, sometimes hitting one of the cars in the yard — which usually makes Dean’s awareness flicker with urge to tease Sam for having bad aim.

But Rumsfeld clambers through the dead cars to get the ball every time, so Dean absentmindedly wonders if Sam does it on purpose just to make her work for it.

Sam will play with her like that for a while, with the occasional pause to walk down the yard in search of Dean. Which Dean knows Sam thinks he doesn’t notice. He does, he just choses to ignore or forget it most times.

She’ll lap at a bowl of water after the sound of her steps across the creaking porch, and Sam will praise her for it before going in for lunch.

Dean went in for lunch the first day they were here because Bobby was still home. Dean’s sure that the tension between the brothers is what chased him away on a ‘meet-up’ with some other hunters.

After Sam finishes lunch he either organizes shit in Bobby’s living room (Dean doesn’t know how he knows this, but the information sits in his memory like its been branded there. He gathers he’s maybe spent time looking in the window of the house from against Baby) or, Sam finds a book and comes back outside despite the raging heat.

Sam will stay there, silently, until Dean comes inside before sundown. Somehow, Sam always knows to go in just a few minutes before Dean wraps up. And then they eat dinner in silence until one goes upstairs to the guest room they used to sleep in as kids, and the other promptly takes their turn on the couch.

Today, Dean hasn’t heard the door to the house open once. Rumsfeld’s getting impatient, Dean could hear her pacing and whining.

It’s not all that abnormal, Sammy’s a big boy. He’s allowed to have freedom to do whatever he wants. But it has Dean on edge, enough to break through the barrier of his fever-dreamed haze.

He could easily barge in the house and complain about Rumsfeld whining for being the reason of asking why Sam’s not played fetch with her — to inadvertently ask what’s wrong with him, why he broke routine.

But that would take effort, and lead to a real conversation that Dean doesn’t think he’s ready for. Because’s he’s fine, he absolutely is, talking about it would only disrupt his fine state.

So he doesn’t go inside to check on Sam, he goes back under Baby and continues his work, hoping for the sun-haze to take over his brain so he stops thinking again.

It’s probably hours later when he breaks through it again, having just finished the task he set out on early that morning. He doesn’t have Sam to gage what time it is, so he doesn’t know if it’s after lunch or not.

The yard seems to be void of the sound of Rumsfeld, which makes him uneasy because the sound of her collar is always clinking with the rhythm of her pants.

Dehydration plagues his mouth, and makes him dizzy when he clears his throat. He rolls the creeper out from under Baby, and forces himself to stand. It makes his head pound unforgivingly.

Dean wipes his hand with a rag, searching the yard for Rumsfeld — who’s nowhere to be found.

He clears his throat again — immediately regretting it, then sets the rag down on the wood bench and forces himself to walk up to the house.

Minus the absolute crave for water, his stomach rumbles in hunger, angry at him for having skipped so many lunches.

He forces himself up the old creaky steps, and draws the screen door open before pushing his unwilling body into the slightly cooler house.

Dean doesn’t hear signs of Sam upon immediate entry, and he neglects to look for him until he gets to the fridge and manages a bottle of water.

The fridge feels only a few degrees cooler than the air in the house, but the water bottle he picks up cools his hand down the rest of his body like frost spreading on a late October night. He shivers in his place.

The action of unscrewing the cap and bringing the bottle to his mouth happens on instinct, and gulping down the cool liquid brings life back into his body. He groans softly, chugging the bottle down — minus a few drops that escape from his mouth and down his chin.

He pops off it with a desperate breath, crunching up the bottle and throwing it into the open paper bag on the floor next to the trash can.

Sam’s name sits heavy in the back of his throat, nearly having made it’s way out when he turns. His breath is ripped from his chest, forcing the name to die in his throat.

Sam’s asleep on the couch, Rumsfeld promptly atop him like it’s where she’s meant to be. She’s not even allowed in the house unless she’s being fed.

Sam’s limbs are too long to fit on the ugly brown couch, one of his legs is propped against an arm, and the other moulds his neck to mimic a pillow. His other leg hangs off the couch, dangles just above the surface of the old wood floors just like one of his arms.

It can’t be a restful sleep, Dean wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that — but Sam looks more peaceful than he’s been since he was at Stanford. The warm — clearly afternoon — sun beams in through the louvered shades, caressing his soft features just perfectly.

He’s not angry, or upset, or even happy — he’s just there. Peaceful, relaxed. Perfect. He’s perfect.

Rumsfeld covers him like a ratty blanket, drooling against one of Sam’s stupid geek shirts that he loves so much. The arm not dangling off the couch clutches her fur, just above her collar where there must be a sweet spot that she likes to be pet.

The image of Sam calling her up onto the couch, getting himself comfortable, and petting her till they both dozed fills Dean’s chest with a kind of warmth he hasn’t felt since Sammy was just a snaggletoothed sticky mess that looked up to him like Dean was the fuckin’ sun.

In this moment, Sam looks like more than just the sun. He’s fucking divine — angelic. The sun clings to his skin and his hair that looks two shades lighter — because they’re one. It finds every bit of open skin — the spot where his shirt’s been hiked up and his hip shows, his arms and neck — all scattered with gleams of pure warmth and light.

Dean doesn’t consider himself religious, threw the idea of anything but horrible away when his mom had died the way she did after reminding him night after night that their family was blessed. But Sam’s restful state, his soft and mesmerizing features almost has him on his knees.

Rumsfeld doesn’t wake, doesn’t even seem to graze the surface of a stir — she lets Dean stare. Lets him stand there and gape at the two of them.

Sam’s breathing is soft — just like Dean knows his voice would be if he took the few steps forward to wake him.

He is soft. He is delicate. He is the boy that Dean fell in love with at the age of innocent. He is nothing but perfect; even when he strays from his usual self in times of anxiety and trouble. He is everything that Dean would kill for and die for, just from a silent pleading look — and from so much less. He is Dean’s everything.

Dean doesn’t know how long he stands there, doesn’t know how long he watches Sam and Rumsfeld just breathe in their sleep, but he does until his knees and his hips ache, and until the sun shining in is turning a dark orange. He does until Sam stirs awake, softly turning in his spot to rub his eyes open just like he did when he was 10 years younger.

Dean melts at the soft mewl he lets out, and melts even further at the less soft groan when Rumsfeld turns to lay fully on her side atop him.

He can’t find it in him to move from his place, even though he suddenly feels guilty for watching Sam as long as he did.

Sam huffs at the rottie, scratching behind her ears before turning — he looks surprised to see Dean at first, his eyes flickering back and forth between him and the dog before he softens and shifts to sit up as much as he can under Rumsfeld’s weight.

“Dean,” he says gently — and it’s exactly the way Dean knew he’d sound when he woke.

“Sammy,” Dean says back — exasperated to finally speak his brother’s name, but just as supple as Sam had.

He has the urge to whisper it again, to say his brother’s name over and over like a prayer because Sammy is something that deserves to be worshipped.

He doesn’t. In fact, he stands there, unsure of what to do with himself; go up to Sam, and touch his face — whisper his name like a desperate plea, kiss him softly — or leave, let the moment be remembered and burned into Dean’s brain as how gorgeous his little brother is, with no mistake to taint it.

Sam seems to not know either, so they stay there in silence. Dean’s legs aching and screaming at him to just sit down for a minute, Sam’s messy hair and face painted with the fading sun — and Rumsfeld dozing away.

For a second, the flashes of Dean on his knees in front of that very couch feels so real he thinks he might actually be there, that he might’ve actually manned up and done what he craves so badly to do.

But then the fridge ticks, and Sam clears his throat, and Rumsfeld jolts awake, suddenly starved for her dinner.

They don’t part unkindly — Sam tears his eyes from Dean’s, and the moment ends as harmoniously as it could’ve.

Dean regrets not having gotten on his knees for his brother the moment they sit down at the uneven table for a dinner they’ve had for the last several nights.

He regrets not showing Sam how badly he worships him.

He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it.

But he can’t bring himself to change it.

They eat in silence, maybe Sam having moved on from the moment just as much as Dean had — and Dean’s still sure he can feel the still air, and the cramp in his legs, and the hunger in his belly for more than just the food promised for dinner — but instead the heavenly being that is his little brother.

They don’t talk about it, but after dinner they gravitate to the couch together — where somehow Sam ends up leaned against Dean in the way he had when they were younger and only — still — had just each other.

They don’t talk about the way that Dean slowly snakes his hand over Sam’s body to find one of his, desperately seizing the palm that is so much softer than his. They don’t talk about the implication of it, or where it would lead if they managed to take the next step — they don’t talk about the trouble of what would happen if Bobby found them like this, with Rumsfeld at their feet in the house she’s not allowed in unless she’s being fed — and with their hands, hearts and bodies intertwined.

[cupcakewebkinz]

So I mentioned I quickly wrote a Shellevision story last night... And I'm just gonna fuck everything and post it here. Yay!

No trigger warnings unless you're scared of gays, in that case you should get off my blog as I'm gay LOL

I hope y'all like it even if it is sloppy and probably has grammar problems and ooc moments aidbidhsdbjdg (under le cut for sanity sake)

Vee giggled as she watched Dandy’s little rock dog run off after the ball she had just thrown, having a great time winding down with Pebble after a long day of work. She was just relaxing with a fuzzy dark green blanket wrapped around her, despite never getting cold, her handler was very insistent on her keeping warm when she was outside in the colder months like this. Thus, she always had a blanket when she was out, even if it was quite warm for an autumn night. Vee looked up at the sky, smiling a little at the stars twinkling above. She looked back down as Pebble came rushing back over with the ball in his mouth, his tiny body popping up over the slightly overgrown grass every time he bounced forward towards her. It was oddly adorable, even if Vee would never admit she thought such a thing. She just held her hand out, and once he had approached, the ball dropped right into her hand.

"Good boy Pebble, good boy. Now go fetch!" Vee praised before she threw the ball, watching as the rock dog ran off after it, sighing when he faded off into the distance. She then looked back up at the stars, tilting her head a little. People say you could make wishes on them, right? She squinted at that idea, as there probably was no way that was even slightly true, even if it did seem like a fun idea. Her wish would never come true, regardless of how many stars she'd wish upon. She lowered her screen and looked beside her, smiling a little at the empty spot. Usually Dandy or Astro was there to help her watch Pebble to make sure he didn't run out of Gardenview's park, but it was just her today. She honestly couldn't have been more grateful, she would've been a wreck if one of them knew she was thinking about her again. Vee held out her hand again as she heard Pebble approach, and once the ball was once again in her hand, she just tossed it for him yet again. Pebble barked before he ran off, as he tended to do, while Vee was still kind of lost in thought, looking back up at the stars. Maybe she could wish for her to be there... No, she can't be dumb, there's no way she'd be able to come out and look at the stars tonight. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, putting a hand on her screen to help bring her back to reality. There's no way- she stopped her thought when she heard someone walking over. She had to focus on life again... They can't see her being such a mess. Though before she could say anything, the other just sat down beside her, and she couldn't honestly believe her eyes when she saw it was exactly who she was thinking about.

"Hey Vee, I thought you'd be out here. It's a nice night, isn't it?" Shelly asked quietly as she settled in her spot, adjusting her multicolored dinosaur themed blanket around herself before she looked at the absolutely bamboozled robot beside her.

"Oh uh, yeah, Pebble wanted to play fetch again so, I came out here, I wasn't expecting you to join. It's nice to see you though." Vee replied, smiling as she held out her hand for the pup, and only turned to look at him as she threw the ball again. She watched as he chased after it, then she turned back to the fossil now sitting beside her, who was silently staring up at the stars with a look of peaceful bliss on her face. Vee couldn't help but to smile at that, admiring her peaceful state and the small things that just made Shelly so precious. Like her little freckles, the little dirt stains that would never leave her shell no matter how much they scrubbed at them, the tiny cracks from the many tumbles she faced as a young toon. Vee moved a little closer, though she had to stop herself from getting too close, as she knew her screen must be buzzing from all the emotions she felt right now and didn't want to be caught staring at her best friend like this. Though she desperately wanted to get closer, to hold her, to touch her even the slightest bit, she wouldn't let herself. She wouldn't let herself just confess that she loved Shelly more than just a best friend... She couldn't, she couldn't risk losing their friendship. She started to back away a little, but Shelly gently stopped her with a hand on the side of her screen. Vee gently nuzzled her screen into her clawed hand, unable to stop herself anymore... She must tell her she loves her, even if it might cost everything. She must know.

"Shelly..." Vee mumbled, though she was gently stopped before she could even say what was on her mind.

"I love you too, Vee. I love you too." Shelly quietly said as she put her forehead against the top of Vee's monitor, her other claw soon gently holding the other side of Vee's screen. Vee was a blushing disaster, wondering how she knew that's what she was going to say, having absolutely no idea how much of a lesbian disaster she had been lately. Shelly wasn't going to call her out on it though, and was instead moving in for a kiss, however they were interrupted.

"Arf arf!"

The two immediately turned and looked at Pebble, having completely forgotten he was even there, their faces both bright with blush. Pebble, seeming to understand he was interrupting something, just picked up his ball and ran off to go inside. Vee just looked back at Shelly afterwards, gently putting a hand on her arm and nuzzling her screen back into her claws.

"I love you so much Shelly..." Vee quietly stated, smiling as she felt the fossil gently put her forehead against hers again. This felt so right, all of this, this all just felt... Great. Vee couldn't help but snuggle herself closer to Shelly as the other gently scratched the sides of her head, feeling so at ease with her so close. She could tell Shelly felt the same way, as she heard the other let out a relaxed sigh as they stayed so close. Neither had wanted to move, however, they knew they had to soon, they both realized that this probably doesn't look like just two friends bonding under the stars. They looked at each other before one dared to move... They knew they weren't just friends, they knew they'd have to admit that one day, they both could tell by the look in their eyes. Vee however was the first to move, as she carefully and slowly sat back up and moved Shelly's hands away from her face, though she couldn't hide how disappointed she was even if she cared to try. Shelly couldn't either, she could tell she was trying, but it definitely wasn't working out for her. Vee looked around, then looked back at the fossil, quickly attempting to think of a way they could enjoy the other's company like that again, then she had an idea. She quickly got up and turned around, unwrapping the blanket from herself before laying it down on the grass, then she simply... Pointed to it. Shelly looked very confused, as she had absolutely no idea what was going on, but slowly got up and sat down on the blanket anyways. Vee sat beside her gently, then looked over at her, watching her very confused expression for a minute as she tried to process everything. She confessed to Shelly, Shelly said she loved her back, and now Shelly probably thinks she's lost her marbles as they sit on her blanket together. How would she fix this..? She thought a little more, but before she said anything, Shelly looked back up at the stars again, then at Vee, then at the stars.

"Oh my goodness, you wanted to cuddle and stargaze like we did as little toons, didn't you? I'm sorry, I just, I didn't expect any of this and I'm-"

"It's okay, let's just cuddle and let ourselves understand what happened." Vee stated quietly, and Shelly just nodded in agreement, laying her blanket beside her before she laid down, having her left arm tucked under her head and her right arm out for snuggles. Vee immediately joined her, curling up against her right side and putting her head on her shoulder, ignoring the red fluff from Shelly's onesie that covered up part of her screen. Vee just wanted to cling to Shelly for a while and not think about anything, so she gently hugged her and clung to her onesie, which Shelly obviously didn't seem to mind as she just wrapped her free arm around her. The two then laid in silence, watching the stars together as they held each other close, seeming at peace with each other. Vee had missed this... It's been so long since they both were able to just cuddle and not think about what anyone had to say about them, and she knew Shelly probably did too. Vee barely understood how nobody really liked her, Shelly was such a kind and caring toon, always looking out for her friends and cheering them on. Yeah she smelled like dirt most of the time, but... It's grown to be a comforting scent to her. She's such a kind toon with such a sweet voice and caring soul... How could anyone not see that? Vee frowned a little at that thought, she probably shouldn't think too hard about that right now. She looked over at Shelly, who looked lost in her own thoughts as well, then decided to do something a little random to see if it'll help them both relax more.

"Hey Shelly, what constellations do you think the dinosaurs saw?" Vee quietly asked, getting a surprised look from Shelly in response, then a shrug.

"Honestly, they probably wouldn't have seen what we see, since the stars move and die, but they probably saw some pretty cool ones. If they even looked at stars... Oh, maybe we can find some star clusters that make dinosaur shapes!" Shelly replied with a sudden burst of excitement at her own idea, and Vee just nodded, watching as Shelly moved her arm out from under her head and soon was pointing out constellations that just barely looked like simplified dinosaurs. Vee didn't ever correct her though, she just listened to her ramble as she relaxed, feeling safe and secure as they both looked at the stars. She knew that no matter what now, they knew they weren't just friends anymore, and she was honestly more than okay with that. No matter what would happen to either of them... They'd always have the other right there to cheer them on. No matter what happens to Gardenview, they'll stay together. Vee looked up at Shelly again, then she looked back at the stars as she relaxed her body a little more, gently clinging to Shelly just a little tighter. Maybe wishes do come true after all... Vee squinted at the thought, no, she still wouldn't believe that. That's just childish thinking, even if her own dreams did come true that night.

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads ( Homelander x OC )

chapter one: first impressions

chapter directory

summary: holding the heart of a self-proclaimed god is hard work, but someone's gotta do it. who'd have ever thought it would be some nobody, a simple street level hero-branded-vigilante, who would ascend to one of the seven coveted thrones and do just that?

tags: slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

It’s a night like any other in the concrete jungle of New York City.  A streak of red swings through the streets by lines of webbing, eyes peeled for anyone disrupting the peace in his friendly neighborhood.  Well, not his neighborhood exactly.  He was just a vigilante after all.  There’s plenty of fun to pick from, but only one instance could be so special to the city’s one and only Spider-Man– to Benjamin.

It’s not the quippy banter with the thugs breaking into the back of a bodega, nor is it the amusement he gets from webbing each of the fools in one big pile on the ground that makes this night memorable.  It’s the interruption, the anomaly that appears all too silently from the sky.

“And just what do we have here, hm?” 

The bug turns in surprise, steeling himself against the rush of anxiety that shoots through his veins.  This is no ordinary supe here to gripe about him stealing their thunder.  This is a man– a god, perhaps– in a whole ‘nother league. 

Ben would recognize him by voice alone because it was impossible not to hear it at least once a day.  Hell, hide the costume and he’d probably still recognize that face– because it’s everywhere. Billboards, magazines, fucking cereal boxes– you name it, he’s probably there.

Before him stands The Homelander, captain of The Seven, pretty much the face of Vought International.  World’s most powerful supe.

“Oh, y’know.”  He gestures.  “Riffraff doing what they do, and me doing what I do.”

“Nicely done,” Homelander says, professional smile etched into his face like he’d rehearsed this.  “You know, good work like this is why we’ve been nipping at your heels, kiddo.  Really wish you’d stop making us chase you around.”

And there it is.  This was no chance meeting– as if one of the big boys from The Seven would ever be caught dead in an alley in Harlem of all places.  Spidey cocks a brow behind his mask.  Vought must be desperate.

See, he’s been particularly unlucky lately.  

Even before he donned the mantle of Spider-Man, it was never about being in the big leagues.  Benjamin mused upon the idea of it, but he could never find himself truly taken with the idea of selling himself as a hero.  Not only was the mere idea of commercializing his ability to do a unique good revolting, it would strip away one of the only true freedoms he has.  Of course, Vought knew nothing of his reasons– not that they’d care either way– and were ardently pursuing him to fill the now vacant seat formerly belonging to Translucent.

And now, as his luck would have it, they’ve sent their biggest dog to fetch their desired toy.

Benjamin’s sixth sense tells him nothing in the moment.  No hidden danger, no tickling of warnings to bolt.  A goose chase spanning two months finally coming to a titanic head as The fucking Homelander himself holds him not-quite-hostage in an alleyway. 

“You’re still their top pick, you know,” Homelander says, nodding over to the webbed pile of crooks.  “You play by their rules without even being on the team.  A little… sloppy, but effective.  Tell me, how is it you’re going to turn down a spot in the biggest of the big leagues, hm?  You’ve pretty much skipped the line.”  Homelander scuffs the sole of his boot against the ground, kicking a pebble to the side as he meanders closer.  “What, is vigilantism more fun?  You like having all those warrants?  Vought could clear ‘em up.  Get you set straight in the eyes of the law, make you official.  Pay you for your late night troubles…”

Ben bristles as he comes closer.  It’s not the proximity necessarily, it’s… 

It’s like he’s looking straight through the mask.  

Benjamin releases a tight breath.  “My answer isn’t changing.” He says firmly, despite the anxiety cooking in his chest.  He is not a confident man by any stretch.  The most bravado he’ll ever know in his life comes from being Spidey.  Nobody can see him– nobody knows who he is when he’s got the mask on. He can be whoever he wants.  But right now he feels see through.  

Pick your words carefully,  he thinks to himself.

“I’m not a show pony for Vought to extort.”

Don’t cave– do not give him that satisfaction.  It’s what he wants.

He wouldn’t work for Vought.  He’s chosen years of barely scraping by rather than taking a tech job with them as a regular person, why the fuck would he do it as a supe?  What, he’s just supposed to ignore the endless skeletons in their closet?  The pain and suffering, all the people he’s seen online talking about how Vought threw money at them to not sue after some accident or another only to up and disappear?  

Ben idolized heroes for so long.  His powers didn’t manifest until his late teens and he grew up wanting to be just like the superheroes that made the world a better place– until he realized that those types were so few and far between that they might as well not even exist.  All of his childhood heroes were NDAs and settlements, pain and suffering, all covered with media stunts and weak, lazy apologies.  Posters were torn down, action figures tossed in the trash– he moved on and eventually became the hero he wished his idols would've been.

“Show pony? Pfffft,” Homelander laughs, blowing a raspberry.  “Please.  Look at yourself.  Skin tight red and blue suit, leaving messes of webs everywhere you go.  Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you’re already there.”

“They parade you guys around like trophies,” Ben counters, trying to keep the edge off his tone.  “I’m not in this to make money for some rich-fuck shareholders, y’know.”

“And?  See, you told every single agent before me that you were in ‘this’ to make a difference.”

Fuck.

“You know how much fucking range you’d have in The Seven?”  Homelander splays his arms wide as if to show the scale of the world.  Agitation is starting to write itself on his face, leaking free in the twitches of his eye and those rapid blinks.  He clearly didn’t expect to have to work for this.  “You could help anyone anywhere, all you have to do is say yes.”

The worst part?  That’s not technically a lie.  And it’s not not tempting. 

“I’m sure you’ll see reason,”  Homelander smirks, sauntering just the slightest bit closer.  “Benjamin.”

The bug’s heart drops to his gut, eyes going wide and glancing in the direction of the pile of webbed crooks in the hopes they neither heard nor will a last name be following. 

Fuck, fuck– 

They have his name. 

“Don’t–”

“Don’t what?”  Homelander asks innocently, lips curling even sharper.  “You really thought we wouldn’t know who you are?  Pff– hah!  Please.”

Closer and closer, every step feeling like a lifetime.

“I can see through that mask, you know.  Can see how scared you are.” Homelander tuts as he comes within arms reach.  “I can hear the pitter patter of your little heart…”

Ben gulps, breaths coming heavy.

“And…”  Homelander leans forward, voice a whisper. “I’m sure you understand, Mister Colyer, that I could kill you right now…”  A hand falls to rest on Ben’s shoulder, gripping tight.  “I really don’t like being told no.”

Ben’s voice shakes and his knees quake, totally ready to dart as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

“I'm… not– I'm not doing it.”

His sixth sense doesn’t stir.

Homelander’s bluffing.  But, really… So is he.

It’s like the world froze.  Time stands still as they stare at one another.  Benjamin can see the anger dancing in Homelander’s eyes, but nothing comes of it.

Not even when the bug backs away and that leather clad hands falls free from his shoulder.

“Look, uh… this was nice, y’know?”

Smooth, Ben.  Smooth.

“But uh, just call me Randy Jackson, because it’s uhm... it's gonna be a no from me, dawg.”  Terrible time for humor, but something had to break the tension.  “Goodbye, Homelander.” 

And with that, Ben bolts, vaulting up and off the side of a building to propel himself into the night.  

Homelander remains in the alley, still stunned, a piercing ring deafening the world around him.  He lingers, thoughts racing.

Turned down by the bug, huh champ?

Of course, of fucking course there would be some commentary.

“Hey big guy, you gonna let us go?”  

And of course there’s some filth bold enough to interrupt him.

Homelander turns, eye twitching as he scans the pile of mud practically cocooned in webbing.  They expect him to release them.  After all, Spider-Man is a vigilante.  None of his catches are technically official, though there’s usually enough evidence for that fact to be ignored.

“C’mon, you know we ain’t done no harm!  Me and the boys were just walkin’ by is all.”  

The man in question chuckles nervously at him.

Homelander saunters closer, hands behind his back.  He stands over the man, inspecting every little detail.  The growing fear in his eyes, the way he sweats.

Putrid. Echoes the voice in his mind.  Remind them of who they’re talking to. Of the god they disrespect.

He lifts his foot, placing it dead center on the man’s chest.

“No– please, I didn’t–”

He presses down slowly, grin etching onto his face as pleas turn to tight gasps.  The others in the webbing try to scramble, but they can’t escape.

They’re at his mercy.  As they should be.

A crunching sound precedes his favorite part.  Ribs and muscle give way and a loud squelch graces his ears and the ringing– oh the ringing stops. It's serene, knowing what power he holds.  What iron fist he truly has wrapped around the neck of this world.

Attaboy.

To think they’d think him so low as to aid them.  To think they’d get to live after seeing him rejected so brazenly.

Now for the rest.

As he takes care of the others, he wonders just how persuasive he'll need to be with the little spider.  What threads must he pull to get his way?

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Class Reunion

TimBer Week 2024 Day #5: Class Reunion

“Nice Lion-Guard statues at the opening gate. The lack of gargoyles helps you pretend you’re nowhere near Gotham proper.”

“Those were changed since I went here. I wonder if someone broke the front them again.”

“Can I ask what broke them before?”

“Cop car crashed into them while trying to chase after some rollerblading gang members.”

“Classic Bristol.”

—

Brentwood Academy was a school Bernard had heard of many times, even before befriending someone who’d actually went there. His parent had asked his previously if he might want to go there, willing to scrap together the money for enrollment, but he’d declined. His excuse at the time was along the lines of “how can I grow as a well-rounded person with no girls around?” Looking back, it might have been his repressed fear that being around nothing but males would make it harder to hide the part of him that let his eyes linger a little too long.

Tim had been confused when the invite for his previous class’s 10-year reunion showed up in their mail. “I didn’t graduate with them. “You didn’t graduate at all, hon.” “Exactly!”

His guess was that the dean talked them into inviting him because it would look good if he turned up to the reunion and hobnobbed with their potential donors. The only reason Tim agreed to go at all was that he had a few friends he hoped to see there. Tim RSVP’d himself and one guest, that of course being Bernard.

For his part, Bernard was more interesting in seeing how many students at this school were in love with Tim – he’d clocked maybe half the Greive’s population and ad taken great pride in rubbing his relationship status in all of their faces. He’d gone to elementary school with some of them; they’d pulled his clothes or stolen his juice boxes. So it was just fair game to steal the heart of their high school idol. Bernard was ready to flaunt his claim over any other men who’d gotten their awakening from the marvelous Tim Drake as well.

They parked the car and were following the directions of one of the senior boys - their little blazers were so charming - when the bark of a dog made pause. It broke through the manicured bushes that separated the parking lot from the main grounds, revealed to be a tan-colored pug running at full tilt. Everyone in the area froze to watch the dog as it cut through the cars but only one person made a move towards it.

“No way,” Tim breathed at Bernard’s side, putting out a hand with a face liked he’d seen a ghost. “Cardigan?!”

The dog slowed, looked back to Tim, then changed direction to come his way.

With a mystified look, Tim crouched down as the little creature reached him, putting tiny paws on the knees of his expensive slacks, tail wagging with glee. “You’re still…oh, wait.” Tim hooked a finger into the dog’s collar, pulling it up so he could read the name tag. “Cardigan III. I guess that makes more sense.”

There was a sadness in those words and Bernard instinctively gripped the other man’s shoulder in comfort, despite not understanding its source. Experience told him that the answers would unveil in time anyway, even in the next thirty—

“Cardy! There you are. I’m so sorry, sirs.” A student cut around the bushes, holding a leash in his hands and panting. “He got away from me.”

“No problem, sport,” Tim said as he rose to his feet. One hand slipped into his pocket, giving him a look of perfectly amicable suburban dad. He was channeling serious Brucie Wayne energy without even knowing it. “I can’t think this is the same Cardy I used to play fetch with when I was a student here.”

“Oh, no, sir,” the boy answered, attaching the leash to Cardy’s collar. “Cardigan Sr. and Jr. passed away a long time ago. This is Cardy the Third.”

Tim sighed, absorbing that information with downturned eyes. The boy picked up Cardy the Third and carried the dog back to the side of the building, promising treats if he would just be more agreeable.

“Cardy Sr. and I were really close,” Tim said to Bernard as they linked hands, following the people who were heading to the building's front entrance. “We had a lot of adventures together, even if I didn’t want him chasing me around.”

“Maybe we should get a dog?”

“We have enough animals to feed as it is. And I’m not just talking about the cats.”

Bernard just laughed and squeezed his hand tighter.

—-

The opening presentation was unimpressive, taken up mostly by a PowerPoint that described Brentwood’s prestigious history. They also learned about the various alumni of Brentwood who went on to create successful careers. Bernard could imagine the school board grinding their teeth that they couldn’t add one Timothy Drake-Wayne to that list. But hey, no school could.

Though one man that was bragged in the slides was a friend Tim sought out after they were allowed to mingle.

“Kip!” Tim pulled the equally short, though quite a bit thicker, male into a tight hug. Kip Kettering looked surprised by Tim’s enthusiasm.

“It’s great to see you too, Tim! Well, to see you in person and not in another Elites of Gotham magazine cover.”

Tim groaned, though that could remove his smile at the ribbing.

“No really, who would have thought our Tim Drake, wrangler of explosive dorm fights and hero to nerds everywhere would grow up to be a CEO? I bet your board meetings look like the war room scenes from the best action movies.”

“Being honest with you, they feel like that sometimes though usually I’m going to war against the rest of them.” Bernard and Kip both laughed. “I swear, they'll get maybe five more years out of me, then I’m quitting and becoming a househusband!”

That statement reminded Kip that they had skipped an important introduction. “Oh, you must be Bernard!” The two shook hands. “I saw the wedding announcement on LiveWire. Congrats to you both!”

“Thank,” Tim said, his smile like sunshine which told of how relieved he was by the positive response. “I’d wondered if I should invite you guys but…”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times, or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“What about you, though?” Tim asked, wrapping an arm around Bernard’s waist. “I never thought you’d end up a movie producer, but then again, it does track. You were always more critical of your movies than your taste in books.

Kip shrugged, not denying that. “Well, I graduated school with a tidy bit of money in my pockets so I thought, why not apply myself into something that interest me instead of a mindless computing degree. I guess you can’t really relate to that, can you?”

“Damn Kip, when did you get so brutal?”

“Since I moved out to Hollywood.”

“Hey, Timbo!” A boisterous baritone voice cut through the ruckus of the room, turning the attention of their group specifically. A very tall man shouldered his way through various bodies, his skin-tight clothing showing the cut of bulky muscles as he charged their way.

“Buzz Cohen,” Tim said, smirking at the approaching man where Kip grinned through an exasperated sigh. Tim put out a hand to shake but Buzz captured it and pulled the raven-haired man into a hug. "You sure look calm for a professional football player in a room of soccer-school alums."

“And you sure look respectable for a high school dropout!” Buzz clapped Tim on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise. A hit like that wasn’t anything Tim could take but he still faked like he was ready to fold in the knees. “You got adopted by a millionaire, took over his company, and you even got married all before we got to see you again!”

Tim elbowed Buzz in the ribs, trying to be gentle with it, but the other man still winced. Now free, Tim straightened himself out and went about the proper introduction. “Kip Ketterling, Buzz Cohen, this is my husband, Bernard. Bern, this is Kip and Buzz, some of my best friends while I went to Brentwood.”

“It’s nice to meet you to. And also, thank you. Now I know why Tim never mocked my name in school.”

“God damn it, Bernard.”

Bernard listened to Tim and his friends recount their adventures in Brentwood. He had already hear these stories from Tim but it was nice to hear the parts he had intentionally left out. Like his failed attempt at soccer tryout (likely on purpose) or his various run ins with their former housemother. They shared a mutual disappointment that a few of their group - Ali, Danny, or Wesley – hadn’t shown up to the party but that changed to making plans for their own friend reunion. Bernard was interest to see how they would get the leader of a former-terrorist sect and the leader of a country to come all the way to Bristol for pizza. Moreover, he wondered what Bruce would do if he found out.

The group eventually split up with talk about other classmates to check on. They swapped contact info and promises to actually stay in touch this time.

Tim had patrol that evening, so they made a quick pass through the crowd to check for anyone else he knew well enough, then took Bernard back outside through a different way. There was a part of the campus Bernard had been dying to see ever since Tim had told him the unabridged version of his time in all-boys school.

“So that’s the legendary bell-tower, huh?” He’d seen it from a distance when they were driving up but now that the sun was starting to set, it gave the neglected structure a creepy vibe. A perfect hiding spot for a family of Man-Bats looking to raise their daughter and new baby son.”

“Yeah, this is the place. I snuck up with Cardigan Sr. and after we scared the Man-Bats out, I had to save the pooch from himself. And save my skin by doing so.”

They ventured closer but stopped when they noticed a collection of boys hanging around the entrance. Tim made a noise and when Bernard looked his way, his husband was looking at the kids intensely. “The boy with the blond hair; I think I know him.” He was the smallest of the group, light blonde hair and a sunny smile. “I think that’s Aaron Langstrom.”

“You mean the-” someone was approaching them “the science couple’s kid?”

“Yeah, the Langstroms worked with WayneTech for a bit, so I got to know him.”

“Good evening to you, Mr. Drake.”

Even Bernard had heard the old man coming up behind them, but he could see where it might freak you out if you were one of his students. He moved like a ghost.

Dean Nederland was perhaps some kind of immortal because Tim had showed him pictures of the Brentwood headmaster and he looked exactly the same, not an extra wrinkle to be seen even after ten years. Cardy the Third was at his side, pawing at his owner’s ankle. Bernard wondered idyll why the dean was walking his dog now when he had an entire group of alumni to be schmoozing for donations.

“Hello, sir. I hope you’ve been well.”

“I have Mr. Drake. Or is it Drake-Wayne, now?”

“Drake-Dowd, Sir,” Tim smiled, clasping his ex-headmaster’s hand firmly. “This is my husband, Bernard.”

“Hello,” Bernard greeted, given a handshake as well. The man’s grip was surprisingly firm for someone of his years. He was putting ‘vampire’ at the top of his theory list.

“I am pleased to meet you, young man. I hope you have found our Brentwood Academy lives up to its reputation. Perhaps you might consider sending your own son here someday.”

“I’m truly impressed by the place, sir. It’s a magnificent facility and Tim has told me of his many fond memories as a student.” This got a smile from the dean who nodded at Tim in something that could be pleasure or gratitude.

But Tim turned the discussion back to the previous point. “So that is Aaron Langstrom? I hadn’t realized he was old enough to attend here.”

“Yes, he began his first year with us this fall and has been a delightful child.” The dean sighed with an aged kind of happiness. “He was here for the tour and in the first five minutes, declared he felt very at home in our Brentwood. Hearing that was a great joy for me, I don’t mind telling you.”

Given that the meta-human had once spent his nesting years in that very belltower, Bernard could imagine why he found it “homey”. He wasn’t about to mention that to the dean, though. Let him have his happiness.

Dean Nederland spoke with them for a few minutes more before bidding them good night and continue to walk his peppy dog who did let Tim and Bernard pet him one last time. The moment they disappeared, though, the couple was approached by an entirely new group.

“Excuse me?” Aaron and his friends had made their way over, wearing expressions of hesitation but also curiosity. “Are you Tim Wayne? I’d seen you in one of the old school photos.”

“Yes, that’d be me.”

“Oh cool,” said another boy. “Then, you were the guy that saved that guy who was kidnapped by that casino guy, right?”

“Uh, yes I was.”

“So you were also the guy that had a demon explode in his dorm room and cut up a dude who was protecting that Arabian prince?”

“Well, yes, but he was actually --”

“And you were here for when the original Sk8Bratz crashed through the campus gates and broke the front door?” “Idiot, we told you, it was the side gate and they broke the lions.” “Nuh uh.”

Bernard grinned at his husband. “Seems your reputation as a center of chao didn’t start in Grieves, hon.”

“No, it started when I was born,” Tim replied with a sly grin. And after quieting the bickering boys, set to work untangling their many stories of his Brentwood years and laying out the various cover stories he’d crafted for such situations.

The sun was fully set by the time they left the Brentwood Academy grounds, though they still had one more stop to make in Bristol Commons before heading to Wayne Manor.

“I’d see this place all the time when I was doing patrols around school,” Tim said as they took their orders and settled into an empty booth in the SunDollar coffee shop. “I was too busy to check it out when I’d just started classes and towards the end, I was under house arrest, so I never did get the chance.”

Bernard took a sip. “Sorry to break it to you, honey, but if it was just like this back when you were a student, you weren’t missing out on much.”

Tim took a sip, agreed to his point, then kept drinking it anyway.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, holding hands over the tabletop. Until Tim said, “I keep thinking about when the dean said.”

“About us having a son someday? Because I’m pretty sure I put into the prenup that I wanted a girl as my first child, so don’t go buying any blazers or ugly ties in the near future.”

Tim waved that away, not even interacting with Bernard’s joke. “Specifically, about sending my own child to Brentwood.”

Bernard frowned. “You’d want to send them to boarding school? After how miserable that always made you?”

“I wasn’t thinking they’d have to live there like I did. They could just be day students and live at home. It’s just…that made me think about if I really liked or really hated my Brentwood experience as a whole. Even now, after all these years, I have mixed feelings about that time in my life. There was a lot of dangerous things I faced there, a lot of drama from outside the walls and inside of them. But there were also some really joyful moments. Experiences that I might not have bothered with until I was forced to act like a teenager and grew to kind of like it.” He sipped his coffee again, gazing out the window towards the silhouette of the belltower. “The guys there were all so different from my Gotham Heights friends, or my teammates, but they still made me feel like one of them. They taught me to feel like ‘one of the guys’ and I really did love that.”

Bernard grinned at his adorable husband. But a tiny, territorial part of his heart made him ask “Did you like going to Brentwood more than Grieves?”

“Hell no.” Tim turned to smirk at his husband. “Not just the fact that I met the love of my life at Grieves, but I got to actually be a kid there; no secrets, no Robin, no double life to get in the way. The Brentwood guys helped me learn what it meant to be a kid. But you and Darla…you made me see what it meant to be Tim Drake. You still do that for me, every day.”

Bernard grinned, knowing it was all kinds of mushy but not caring enough to stop. He let himself be pulled into a searing kiss, much hotter than this lukewarm coffee. He laced his other hand into Tim’s, delighted by the cut of the wedding band that he’d put there not long ago.

He hadn’t gotten to brag on any of Tim’s ex-suitors but that was okay.

They still had the Gotham High reunion two months from now.

---

This feels kind of more like a Brentwood Boys fic then TimBer but I love that stretch of Tim's comics. I couldn't NOT overdo it. Sorry if anyone else wanted to see Ali, Danny, or Wesley. Maybe someday in the future they can have Brentwood Boys reunion part 2.

And no, I don't know if Aaron Langstrom ever appeared in the comic universe again. But he should! And he should have a good life and become a student at the school that he grew up in.

[lymoncat]

AOT HCS MODERN AU! What pet you guys own

Eren-

he has a dog I’m not even gonna lie, he comes across as a dog person, he doesn’t care what breed but prefers big dogs specifically German shepherds he bought a dog when y’all moved in together and he’s actually really close with the dog, you named the dog bobo you chose the name cuz you thought it would be cute, the dog is very attached to eren

armin-

a cat, an orange tabby cat. Armin comes across as a more calm less crazy person meaning he would want a cat to chill and read with. He named the cat tangerine cuz it’s orange. You bought him the cat for Christmas one year since you didn’t know what to get him. It’s the wholesome moments, when you see him on the couch after work holding the cat, you fall in love all over again with your gentle small ray of sunshine

Jean-

you may think that he has a horse but your very wrong, he has an annoying green parrot that calls you mom, you can simply walk by the change and you’ll hear “food mom?” And you eventually get used to it and get another parrot for them to play together and stop bugging you

connie-

oh you poor unfortunate soul, him and that tortoise. Jk he has a dog still, you poor unfortunate soul, him and that dog do everything together, he has a border collie that joins you two in everything, taking a shower, the dog is at the door, using the bathroom?, the dog is staring into your soul, trying to leave? The dog is following you out the door. The dogs same is bacon cuz the dog loves bacon

Reiner-

Bull dog off the bat, he has a big dog strong like him, they wrestle on the living room floor all the time, go on walks, play fetch, chase little kids- wait- what?! Yeah, they think it’s funny to chase children in the park especially the snotty teenager brats over in the corner doing some not so innocent things, the dog is a female named Presley very energetic and playful but don’t expect any unwanted visitors there will be none, middle of the night a robber comes ain’t no way that person getting out alive, maybe in a body bag but not alive.

Bertholdt-

a tortoiseshell cat with gold eyes, you guys went to an animal rescue center for your anniversary and he fell in love with this cat, he was begging you until you said yes I mean how could you not?! He’s batting those pretty green eyes while on his knees with the cat “please can we get her? I’ll do anything my love” it was a yes in that very moment and next thing you knew you were on your way home with a cat named pineapple don’t bother asking how that name came across his mind but it’s always nice to see him in one of his weird sleeping positions with pineapple splayed across his chest on her back

Erwin-

a lazy pug named Mr. There’s no question just a fat lazy pug that sheds buckets of fur.

Levi-

you begged him to get an animal and he kept saying no until he came home to you having bought one without his permission, he glared and looked pissed until that fat fluffy black cat looked him in the eyes with her emerald ones. He caved in. The cat was named jasmine and he allowed you to keep it because cats are very hygienic and easy to take care of. He hates changing the litter box but will do it for Jasmine. And when he does actually sleep it’s curled up with you and jasmine and absolutely precious, jasmine sits on his lap when he’s doing work and he shares his food with her all of the time strangely enough she loves lettuce, you’ll be in the kitchen making salad and she’ll prance over and sit there meowing for lettuce

I hope you guys liked this, please comment your thoughts and send me requests and don’t be afraid to give me feedback ❤️✨

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

By Saturday night, I’d started doing that thing where I obsessively check my phone every five minutes to see if I’d somehow missed a call or text from Atlas. I hate when I get like that, it always makes me feel a bit pathetic. So, today, I decided I needed a distraction and drove out to the Bay to visit my family, but mostly to visit Jasper, let’s be honest.

I ended up spending the entire day on the beach, running with him, playing fetch and sitting on the lounger drawing pictures of red maple leaves while he chased birds. All the while, trying to ignore my gut telling me something is wrong.

I would have stayed all night, slept in my old bed with my dog at my feet, but trying to commute to the city on a Monday morning is miserable, so I came home.

Now, I’m lying on the sofa, my legs stretched across Lex’s lap as we watch a movie. Some sci-fi her friend recommended about a bunch of kids and aliens or something. I’d probably enjoy it, but I can’t get myself to pay attention.

I finally had to turn my phone on Do Not Disturb because I got tired of the disappointment that came over me after every notification. Now at least my phone would stay dark and silent unless it was Atlas, my parents, or my sister calling. Even still, I can’t stop glancing at it as it sits on the coffee table mocking me. A pit growing in my stomach with each passing hour.

I barely register Lex’s voice as she comments on something that just happened in the movie. When I don’t respond she nudges me, “Hey, are you watching?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh really? Then, what just happened?”

I sigh and look up at her, chewing at my lip and feeling a bit guilty that I’m unable to answer.

She pauses the movie, a look of concern crossing her face as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I look away, really not wanting to admit to my pining, but also tired of suffering in silence. “Atlas said he’d call, but he never did, and I’m being emo about it.” I roll my eyes so she knows that I know exactly how ridiculous I’m being.

“Aww, babe, scoot over.” She squeezes herself between me and the back of the couch so that she’s laying with me, her head on my shoulder, and her arm wrapped around me. I can always count on Lex for a good cuddle when I need it. “I'm sure he just got busy or something. You know how it is.”

“You’re probably right. I’m being silly.”

“Nah, you just like him, that’s all.”

“I really do. I don’t know though; I have a bad feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just seemed, I don’t know, agitated when we said goodbye. Like he’d been spooked or something, but I can’t imagine why.”

“What did you do to the poor boy?” She claws her fingers at my side where she knows I’m ticklish.

“Ah! Nothing,” I half shout and half laugh as I yank her hand away, “Stop!”

“Sorry,” she giggles, not an ounce of remorse in her voice as she boops my nose before bringing her hand to rest on my chest, “I’m sure everything’s fine,” she reassures me, “You’ll feel better when you see him at work in the morning.”

I give her a squeeze, appreciating her for trying to comfort me instead of giving me shit. I’m not sure I’d’ve done the same for her if our roles were reversed, and I silently vow to be a better friend. “I love you, y’know.”

“I know. I love you too,” she reaches over and moves my phone out of sight so I can’t stare at it anymore, “Can we watch the movie now?”

“Yeah, go ahead and play it.”

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