#Tail-Taker

[acesentialsketches]

I played Small Saga the other day (thank you to @sublimenol for gifting it to me) and it got me in the mood to draw lotsa rodents.

So enjoy some ratses and meeces!

[peepee-magee]

Time to play the new, hip game of: Do I have a fever, or is the heat just set to high?

This time with the added stakes of: House full of sick people I’ve tried to avoid but who simply don’t care!

[seizedeath]

@divinatiions asked: Be honest - do you ever wonder about your family? 

“which one?” they ask, gaze fixed on the ground. wringing their hands, molly sighs, choosing instead to shove their hands into their hair. “i have a sister who doesn’t even feel like --- like my sister. the circus is --- gone. the mighty nein are... i don’t know. by the time i died, we were barely friends. none of them even trusted me. i can’t imagine they think of me as family. i don’t know why they would.” 

casting their gaze to the sky, molly sighs again. “yasha is... all i’ve got, really. i miss her. yeah. i miss her a lot.” 

[nyanjagorn]

i have too many clans on clangen but. omg. shrubclan. no clue what these idiots are doing but they keep losing their tails & legs. i’m 4 years (48 moons) in, at nearly 50 members, half of which are apps or kits. i have four cats who lost a leg, and six that lost a tail. two of which lost both.

to be fair shrubclan has gone maybe 5 moons with enough healers they’re always deprived of them but still. 10 amputations... in 4 years... that’s more than one per 6 moons.......

[woso-dreamzzz]

Gone IV

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your toys are gone

Girl-swan gets juice spilt on her. Girl-moose is dropped in a puddle.

Both of them are filthy, covered in all the dirt that usually gets scrubbed off of you during bathtime.

Magda looks at them both with a raised brow, pinching girl-moose’s tail and girl-swan’s wing. She doesn’t want to really touch them with how dirty they are. She can’t really believe that you want to keep touching them when girl-swan’s wings are literally turning grey from how dirty she is.

She sighs deeply before throwing them into the washing machine, loading it up with washing powder and fabric softener and fiddling with the knobs until it’s on the most intense setting possible. Anything to get all the dirt and germs out.

She glances around before turning it on, spotting your baby blanket lying forgotten on the sofa.

You and Pernille are in your room, getting you dressed for another day at Chelsea training. You must have forgotten to bring it with you.

Magda picks it up. It doesn’t look outwardly dirty but she touches a wet patch and recoils. She brings it to her nose to smell it and relaxes slightly when all she smells is the milk you’ve spilled from breakfast.

She sighs though. It’s still dirty and she chucks it in the wash too, turning on the machine and leaving it to run. It should be finished by the time training finishes so all Magda needs to do is stick it in the dryer and it’ll all be fresh and warm for bedtime.

“We need to go!” She yells up the stairs,” Shoes and coats on please!”

You come barrelling down the stairs holding the gloves Zećira got you for your birthday. You’re wearing one of her full-sized Rosengård jerseys as well. It’s been rolled up as much as possible and tucked into your trackie bottoms and Magda kneels down to help you put on your shoes and coat.

You grab your usual training bag from where it’s sitting on the back of the dinner table chair, struggling to get it over both shoulders until Pernille helps you.

“Come on, come on!” You say,” Zećira’s teaching me penalties today!”

Pernille laughs at how quickly you try to get them out of the house but allows herself to be dragged along.

You have a lot of fun with Zećira at training and she does teach you about penalties. She shows you that you need to anticipate what way the penalty taker will move and you need to be quick enough to stop them.

(One day, you’ll be the most feared keeper to take a penalty against).

You’re happy for most of training until lunch.

Your food is sitting in front of you but you’ve not touched it. You keep digging through your bag. You look through it once then stop. You look through it again, your face getting more and more distressed the longer you search through it.

You practically look distraught by the time Magda arrives with her own food. Pernille’s still in the line but you’re sitting with Niamh, who looks worried over what she’s supposed to do.

Magda’s just sitting down when you burst into tears.

The scraping of cutlery and the chatter of voices dims as you sob.

“Lost!” You cry and Magda gently takes your bag from you. “They’re lost!”

Magda’s confused. Everything she packed in your bag this morning is still there and she rummages to the bottom of the bag and pulls out your keeper glove triumphantly.

“Not lost,” She assures you,” See, they’re right here!”

You look hopeful for a moment before you notice what’s in her hands. “No!” You cry,” Not my gloves!”

“Everything’s here,” Magda assures you,” Nothing’s lost. Nothing at all!”

“They are!” You insist.

“What’s lost?”

“My blankie!”

Magda feels a little bad.

“And my girl-swan and girl-moose!”

Magda suddenly feels a lot worse.

“They’re not lost!” She says quickly,” They’re not lost at all.”

“They are!” You cry, tugging your bag back so you keep empty it all over the table. “Not here!”

“They’re at home!” Magda explains before you start screeching,” They’re just in the wash.”

You take a break from crying to take in Magda’s words. Your bottom lip is still trembling but Magda thinks she’s done a good job at deescalating the situation…

Until you start crying again.

“You’re drowning them! Bad, Morsa! You’re drowning my friends!”

Yeah, Magda’s feeling horrible now.

She tries to pick you up but you refuse her touch, leaning away and clambering into a shell shocked Niamh’s lap, who has no idea what to do but bounce you on her knee.

“What’s going on?” Pernille asks. She’s hurried through the line quickly and places her plate down on the table. “What’s with the tears?”

You point an accusing finger at Magda. “My friends are gone! Morsa’s drowning them!”

“I put her swan, moose and blankie in the washing machine,” Magda explains.

“They’re drowning!” You insist, fat tears running down your cheeks,” They are! They are!”

Pernille sighs, picking you up before placing you on her lap as she slips into your seat. “They’re not drowning,” She says,” Your toys can swim.”

You sniffle. “Promise?”

“I promise. They can definitely swim.”

You wipe away your tears, flopping until you’re resting your ear against Pernille’s chest.

Magda feels terrible. She should have told you that your toys would be taking a little dip. You probably would have whined and made them late for training but that’s definitely a better alternative to this.

You remain morose and depressed all through training and it’s only when you get home that you perk up.

The washing machine is finished and you wrench it open.

Magda grabs your toys and blankie before you can.

“I’m sorry, Princesse,” She says to you,” But they’re still wet. They have to go to the dryer.”

“The dryer’s hot!” You shriek, looking close to tears all over again,” They’ll burn.”

Pernille picks you up, walking you up to your room to get you changed. “It’s just like the hairdryer,” She explains as you go,” And you don’t get burnt on the hairdryer, do you?”

“No, Momma.”

“Then your things won’t burn in the dryer.”

[roll-of-royces]

HC: The LaDS Find You as a Neko

This is a request I ran into by @chryssikyu and as I love a good Neko I had fun!

Xavier considers himself to be fairly prepared for the world at large. He's not so simple as most people seem to think he is, but this he did not expect. 

You are asleep, curled up on top of the covers instead of beneath them. That's not the unusual part, the two of you are avid nap takers. Many afternoons have been dedicated to curling up together and falling asleep in the sun. 

This is different. This is different for several reasons. One, you're napping in nothing but a thin white nightdress that barely comes to the mid-thigh. Two, you have two large fluffy looking cat ears. Three, those ears are accompanied by a lush tail that drapes over your thigh as you slumber. 

The fur has a soft pale white sheen. He has no idea how this could have happened, and he's seen so much in his life. Xavier approaches, steps light, as if he is approaching a threat instead of the light of his life. His hand reaches out, tentatively brushing the tip of your new ear. It twitches, not a trick. 

He can't help himself, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, you huff but don't awaken. Before he knows it he has his hand around your tail, dragging downward to feel the soft warmth. You open your eyes, and those too have changed. Your pupils are different, cat like, though still your color. 

"Do you understand me?" He asks carefully. 

You hum, yawn again, and rest your head on his lap, "Xavier." Your voice is the same, still rough with sleep. Still you, just you a little different. 

"What happened?" His hand comes to curl into your hair, it feels softer than it was before. It's nice.

"Dunno." You close your eyes, apparently content to go back to sleep. "Missed you." 

He smiles, because that never gets old to hear. You lean into his hand, arms curling around his waist. Well, he could nap. 

"Move over." He murmurs and you do as asked, knowing well enough he will join you. You'll figure this out in due time. For now he curls atop the bed, with you pressed along his side, tail twitching contentedly as he holds you to him. 

It's not entirely uncommon for Zayne to find you in his office, especially since the two of you started openly stating you're a couple. Sometimes you drop in to see him, sometimes you're only there long enough to leave take-out on his desk before you're gone again. 

Regardless seeing you is always a pleasant surprise. He says your name in greeting, but you keep looking out the window. You're in a hoodie, hood up. It might be Xaviers'. Zayne chews on the jealousy of that for a moment, before letting out a slow breath through his nose. 

You must have been cold. He'll give you his jacket to wear home. You don't look up when he enters, eyes still pinned on something out of the window. He takes another step and sees Clopidogrel hovering on the windowsill. "We should set out some more nuts for him." Zayne says conversationally, walking toward his desk to get the bag he has there for this very purpose. 

Once he's by his desk he gets a view of your face, somewhat shadowed by the hood. There is enough light to see your eyes, the unnatural shape of them. Zayne freezes, scanning you over for injuries. Bag forgotten he heads right for you, watching you track the resident squirrel. 

His hand comes to your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. A doctor's gaze that floods concern through him, he pushes the hood back and is met with twitching fluffy black ears. His thumb pulls your lip up to see the sharpness of some of your teeth. He's heard of this condition only vaguely. 

Harmless, short term. Like the common cold, the tightness in his shoulders relaxes. "Are you alright?" 

Your eyes continue to track the squirrel, "Yes." 

"You can't have him." Zayne informs you, amusement coloring his tone. He'll need to take the rest of the day off at least, make sure you're safe. Your impulsivity will be up, you're likely to do something foolish. 

"Want him." 

He reaches out and pets the top of your head, scratching at your scalp with his nails to distract you from the prey you are being denied. It works, your eyes slip closed, and you lean into his hand. 

"We'll get you some food on the way home." He promises. "Come on, kitten." 

It's the first time he's used the term of endearment but Zayne thinks it might stick. 

Rafayel juggles the bags over one arm as he pushes his studio door open with his foot, calling out as soon as he's through, "If only my bodyguard came with me today. These bags are so heavy!" He gets the door closed, frowning when you don't call out in reply or approach. 

Depositing the bags onto the kitchen counter Rafayel goes off in search of you. He doesn't expect what he finds. You're on the balcony outside of your shared bedroom, in nothing but one of his shirts. Which normally he would not mind, not one bit. 

However. You have a pair of purple ears and a tail to match, a tail that is moving on its own, flicking from side to side. Oh no, oh no. You've got that weird cat sickness. He's read about it, he even had a nightmare once. 

Rafayel rushes toward you, colliding with the balcony railing to look at you. And when you turn to him, ears pivoting, eyes strange he doesn't know what to do. "Are you ... are you alright?" 

You nod, and then step into his arms. He flounders momentarily before he remembers this is you, cat or not, this is you. And he is safe. He is safe. 

His arms wrap around you, as you tuck yourself against his chest. "Play with me, I'm bored." 

Rafayel relaxes further hearing you sound normal, if a bit needy. He likes when you're needy, he likes the fact you need him. "What do you want to do? Not eat me I hope." 

Your eyes spark with mirth, and then you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. He squeaks, but you let go and it didn't really hurt. 

"I'm not on the menu." He scolds. "Find another fish to chew on." 

[moonastrogirl]

2024 Numerology

- Predictions/Tips

Credit @moonastrogirl

2024 is an 8 year. Karma will be served like no one has ever seen it. Power and money will be given to the right people who deserve it.

Number 8 is often associated with the infinity ♾️ symbol which means limitless, abundance but it’s wrong. It’s the symbol of the snake eating his own tail. It’s the symbol of karma which can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on past actions and karma laws.

Number 0 is the true symbol of infinity. It’s wholeness. It’s love. It’s true bliss and abundance. It’s joy and surprise combined. Everything has to come in a full cercle. To receive abundance someone gotta give back too. That’s why lot of millionaires and billionaires donate to charity or do charity galas etc. They know to multiple their money and gains they have to give back and create the full cercle energy.

Those with a prominent Saturn or Saturn ruled placements in their chart/Saturn aspecting personal planets in their birth chart or with a prominent 8 energy in their numerology chart will understand what it truly means and how the smallest action can impact someone.

Power, connections and money will be taken away from abusive people who were using others, gossiping, spreading rumours, lying etc. Divine justice will be served. Honest , generous, loving people will receive their flowers and more.

The scales ⚖️ of divine justice are bringing back true equilibrium.

Those who went through it, true givers and generous people will receive if they are willing to receive. Takers will lose everything if they are not willing to give. People who were made fun of or put down by society for what they do even if they don’t harm anyone (prostitues for instance) will receive plenty and fast. Victims of circumstances, of violence, of abuse will also receive what they need.

Again it’s based on the willingness to receive and give back.

This energy is already being felt for weeks now : karma is here. She serves and delivers like no one. Already conspiring and bringing powerful people down (P Diddy - Cassie case).

Releasing bad karma, bad habits, lies (even white lies) is key 🔑 to receive blessings. It’s best to proactively go get yours blessings, they won’t just come to you. Work hard and smart.

Be willing to release and receive, give back and have faith.

Wishing you and myself peace, love, blessings and abundance for 2024 and may the scales of divine justice be in our favours 💫

Thank you for reading me and if this post resonates with you, please feel free to like, comment or reblog 💜

Credit @moonastrogirl

[valsdelulucorner]

Mermaid mammon head cannons <3

At first when Lucifer saved you and brought you to the island, he just thought you were just a boring old human but once he got to know you, this mer became so clingy to you its not funny. He would literally be waiting for you on the shore bright and early so he can spend more time with you, using the excuse of him being your care taker as a excuse about why he wants to be with you all the time

Once you let belphie out of the cove he was trapped in and got fucking killed, the cove opened up for you guys to make a actually home. He got really exited at this idea when he saw that he could also make camp in the cove because of the shallow pools that fit him perfectly. He called dibs on the pool closest to where you set up your bed in the cove, he will be so smug about this when he managed to his spot but he is also glad he got it because if assures him you will be safe at night

He loves to take you ship wreck diving, holding your hand tight while he leads you around the sunken wreck. He always keeps you in his sight while you broth explore, always checking rooms first before leading you inside to go treasure hunting. He cant let a shark or something hurt his treasure

In mermaid culture, leaving gifts and prey for someone means they want to court and mate them. If you start finding little gold trinkets, shiny objects and dead fish near your part of the cove, please make sure none of the other brothers will see because there will be a clash of teeth and claws. While you guys are alone in the cove however, (and when he works up the confidence lol) he will approach you with his shiniest trinket and largest fish he caught, acting all bashful and shy as he explains the courting of his people. He would be over the moon if you say yes and agree to be his

Because you sleep in the dry part of the cove and he sleeps in the little pools, its difficult to cuddle at night. Because his pool is closest to your ledge, he will sometimes rest his top half ontop of you while his tail remains in the pool of water. In the daytime however, he will either cuddle you in his water pool or you will cuddle him up on your ledge. Either way, he loves being close to you

If your terrified of going into the water, he will either come up onto the sand with you or try and help you ease your way into being able to swim with him. If you just straight up refuse to go into the water after what happened with belphie, he will haul himself up onto the sand and lay with you, blushing bashfully while you guys just talk. It makes him smile to know that he is making you feel more comfortable and less alone by doing this with you, he jeez does he appreciate it if you grab a large banana leaf or something to protect his skin from the hot sand.

If you came it the island as a athlete or a jewelry maker, he will genuinely think you sparkle brighter then you already do. If you were a athlete or someone strong, you pick him up over your shoulders and take him for a little trip up the beach. When you first did it, he freaked out but after a while, he got used to it and saw this as a thing like ship wreck hunting, being with you while you guys search for treasure on land. He's a blushing mess the entire time he's on your shoulder, he's not used to people touching his tail but he doesn't mind it. If you are a jewelry or someone that works with wire and little trinkets, he will be constantly bringing you cool little trinkets he finds and tries to get you the materials to fix them up. He will even try and make you something cool himself, blushing profusely while he gives you a cute little bracelet he made out of shell, jewels and wire

He will allow you to check out his tail if you ask, a bright blush covering his nose and cheeks as he lays next to you on the sand. He will slightly curl around you while you trace lines down his tail, his hands gently tracing lines into your thighs in return. He's never been this close to a live human, he finds your legs fascinating in the way that you find his tail fascinating. If you like to swim, he loves to see how you use your legs while you swim like how you admire the way his tail glides through the water. He finds his treasure strange in the best way possible

He's fascinated by fire. The first day on the island when Lucifer got you some fish to eat, you made a fire and cut up the fish. Why would you do that? Your wasting the yummy parts? On the first night he will watch you from the water as you cook your meal, getting alot closer to you and the fire when you guys start to bond. He tried abit of the cooked fish and he found it alright, he still preferers raw fish, cooked fish like that is so dry

If you manage to find a way off the island, he will genuinely be so heartbroken that you would want to leave. Wasn't he good enough for his treasure? Did he make them not happy? But it was going so well.... He can let that happen, he wont let his treasure leave. You write "SOS" in the sand? suddenly the tide gets bad and washes away the writing in the sand. You make a boat? he will either ruin it before you could leave or make sure it doesn't go far from the island, just being around the corner from you when it starts to sink. If you get more persistent about leaving and try to get some attention from a helicopter from above, he's dragging you back to the cove while holding you close to his body, keeping a clawed hand over your mouth while he hides his face in your neck. You cant leave him treasure, not now. Not. Ever

Mammon had vibrant yellow scales with his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow and white. His nails are less sharper then lucifer but still sharp, beautiful yellow scales littering his hands and ending at his forearm. He had dirty white gills around his neck while his gills on his chest were directly over each of his ribs. His fins are more flowy along the sides of his tail, his larger fin at the bottom of his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow, cream and white. The whites of his eyes were a bright yellow while his pupils were blue, thicker irises but still slits. His tounge is a nice shade of cream and his teeth are more like vampire teeth but with his bottom teeth having fangs aswell. He is covered in bangles and treasure, he pierced his own ears and tounge so he could use some of the jewelry. Mammon calls you his treasure

. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here is the headcannons i did for the brothers I ref in this if your confused. The brothers as mermaids

This was so much fun, I might actually make some more AU's for the brothers! This has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long though, its not the best and im going to go over this but overall, i think it turned out alright

Who should I do next?

[acesentialsketches]

Hey hey! You wanna see a gallery of my work?! Check me out on furaffinity! They'll be slowly updated to get them both up to date!

Check this for my regular art!

And here for my transformation art!

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Lucky Rabbit Blow The Dice

Chapter One

High Roller!Orpheus x Reader

Rated Explicit

On Ao3

Chapter Two

High Roller, a person who gambles or spends large amounts of money, they usually are cocky and rarely cash in when the reward is grand. Shiny and seemingly obtainable.

Enough alcohol and praise going straight to the head lowers those inhibitions, and ambitions rise. Then the rat trap taps on their necks.

Lucky Guy and you are very good dealers. Picking targets and giving enough wins to the guests before draining them dryer than their glasses.

All of this was an easy game until he showed up.

High Roller, he calls himself– You thought him arrogant for his cocky behavior. You underestimated him…

When he practicality had the casino by the balls (somehow winning every fucking game from slots to roulettes), he said he will bet everything for one game.

A game, you to this day, do not know how he won!

Yet…The ultimate game, a game you could not imagine anyone but the one named High Roller could win.

Lucky Guy and you could only stand in shock as he called out his challenge to the one.

Here in the casino, in Her domain— Her temple— Luck roams from one player to the dealer to a newcomer whenever she pleases. None can claim to her, he is free and promiscuous, though can sometimes select those with her blessings, of sorts.

Lucky Guy and you are not here just as dealers but as those who keep risk and rewards flowing in balance.

This man somehow disrupted the natural order of luck by somehow winning every fucking game!

“For my prize:” Making his demands clear as he stood on top stage where the showgirls stayed behind him confused and looking at one another, “I want them!” Pointing at you and suddenly the spotlight is on you.

There are few you can claim to be a favorite, you are one of them. Lady Luck can have her moments when She fancies a mortal and for a night She indulges.

Lucky Guy was someone she snatched from a game, his soul bound to servitude.

You are a product of lust and She keeps you here close knowing how easily someone could use you. Just like Her, you are essentially a good luck charm. 

You took the challenge in her place, She is above mortal bullshit and you still believed you could turn the luck of the night around.

Then you lost. You swear the match was between yourself and the devil. The grin on his face furthers this belief.

The worst part: Your mother did not seem upset, no, She seemed pleased to have Her child taken by a master of cards like High Roller.

Though Lucky Guy swears she hides her pain.

Now you are at a different casino. Darker, enslaving the guests, it is like a prison. Risk Taker, a woman who does all this for her God, heads all of this.

At your mother's casino, at least the guests can go home with their souls intact (tainted but whole)… Here it is like watching each one lose not only their inhibitions but their sanity.

The winner takes all, the loser loses all life is thrilling; there is no balance. Just constant decadence and debauchery.

Watching every night, you see the hollowing out of these people. You… You wish you could do something or at least bring balance here. Risk, reward and loss, and caution seem imbalanced. But cannot, this is not Her temple but some other creature's temple. No longer are you allowed to be a dealer or even play; you are the High Roller's bunny, a lucky rabbit he calls you.

Bunny ears, the latex corset teddy style with the long tail tuxedo jacket (to keep you warm), a bunny tail pinned above your ass (he loves toying with it when you sit on his lap), the fishnet stockings, and heels (you hate these because your feet hurt after awhile which makes you sit, and guess what the only place you can sit on is the High Roller's lap).

You hate it, he doesn't care that you hate it. Or maybe he likes how he can flex his power over you.

By his side to blow the dice before he rolls. To kiss his deck before he shuffles. To sit on his lap as the roulette wheel spins. 

The High Roller's favorite game is anything that involves cards, a master of dealing, and beloved by Miss Fortune (the guests call Lady Luck that here).

All night you have been made, as usual, to be his eye candy on his arm (or on his lap) as he plays the games. Busy nights, though, mean he sometimes will have you fetching him drinks— For the guests. The drunker the guests get, the braver they get. The braver guests are, the more money they spend, and the more money spent the bigger bets and losses.

A cycle that keeps the casino going: Greed.

Currently, the night is dying down, and people cashing in their chips or heading out broke.

High Roller is dealing cards in the private room with you being a ‘player’. He only plays a simple game with you with stakes being articles of clothing. He has the advantage even though he claims you have luck over him.

Lady Luck versus Miss Fortune.

“You just want to see me naked.” What a joke. You frown as even as Her child, you still lost against him! A fucking mortal! You cross your arms as he places his deck of cards down the table while chuckling at the sight of his unhappy bunny.

“Let’s make this fair.” He removes his jacket, placing it behind the chair neatly before sitting down, “Ready?” As if he cares if you aren't ready.

He just wants to fuck you on the dealer's table.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The first time you had sex with him, he was surprisingly gentle. A gentleman who was more focused on your pleasures than his own. It was strange given how objectifies you in public. He pushes buttons plenty, teasing endlessly, and God, you find yourself stumbling helplessly.

However, you have an affect on him.

See, you do not play nice. You fight him for control rather than let him have it. After all, you still are bitter about losing to him and no amount of him going down on you is gonna change that. In fact, when serving you, you make sure he is a mess before you are.

High Roller does not know what pussy drunk means but you had him a number of times that close. So close to the state of promising anything just to be able to feel you around his cock.

Of course, he has gotten better in keeping himself sane but not by much given you know just where and how to stroke him.

The cards are dealt, the first match you win. He removes his gloves. 

Hours pass.

Pass closing time.

The cleaning shift has since long left.

Risk Taker told you both, before heading upstairs to the hotel portion of the building, to clean up any mess left between the game.

At the time, you still were covered.

Right now you only have stockings left and High Roller has his drawers on.

You tap your finger on the table for a card.

He gives you a card and he takes a card.

“Straight flush, you bastard!” Slamming the cards on the table, “Those come off!” Because you know he would take off his sock garters.

He eyes you with an eyebrow raised as he presents his royal fucking flush.

“What… You son of a bitch!” groaning in your hands as you bend over banging your head on the table in defeat.

“Oh, when will you learn little rabbit, you simply can't beat me.” leaning against his chair, “Now I believe you have an article of clothing to remove.”

You huff as you stand up straight ready to remove the last bit of clothing before you are completely naked… Only because in the damn bunny suit you cannot wear underwear (rather you are not allowed to wear any).

“Wait.” He says, “Hmm.” The idle mind is the Devil's playground but a wandering thought is the Devil himself.

“Double or nothing.”

You know he is going to win, he does not offer something without knowing he certainly will win. With a sigh, long and exasperated, “I’ll bite what are the terms?”

The grin spreads, and he leans forward, “You deal this time. If I get an ace of hearts: you touch yourself for me to watch.”

“You are so obsessed with me it makes you look stupid, babe.” As if you do not sometimes enjoy the attention of the older man.

“Say what you will,” Handing you the deck after he shuffles it, “However, tomorrow night when you are on my lap at this table,” Low and with that fucking cursed sexy low voice, “You will know what that stain on here is from.”

Fuck, fuck, holy fucking him! You hate how your cheeks burn or how that makes you cross your leg over the other as that goes straight to your crotch. “Tsk.” Clicking your tongue before snatching the cards out of his hand.

[parkermunson]

Siren!Eddie Part 2

(Part 1)

summary: Lone siren Eddie has been on his own for a long time, without other sirens or human food. He's been told since birth to stay away from humans unless they're dead, but you change his nature. He just needs to figure out how to make contact. [2k words]

t/w: Eddie's a siren so mentions of blood/eating people. Lots of cute curiosity.

a/n: This isn't mythically accurate (maybe?). I love fish and know enough about them to base Eddie's mannerisms and thinking off how a fish would. They're sorta like golden retrievers in that they believe by doing one specific thing, it will always have the same reaction. And a siren that collects things? Adorable.

He had never seen a human up-close that wasn't fighting for their life. The moment anyone entered the water, his people were on them like a shark to fresh blood. Or... they were like that.

When humans stopped entering the water, his people left in search of a better hunting ground. Sirens need food to survive, and although they prefer humans, they can survive off the creatures of the water. He had never taken a human life, merely fed off the scraps of a kill brought in by another siren. It was said, the more a siren kills, the stronger they become, the more irresistible. For this reason, he never appeared to humans. He feared he would scare them before even getting close due to his lack of irresistibility. He could practically hear his people lecturing about the dangers of being seen by the wrong human. "They'll spear you, and scale you before you're even dead. Maybe put you in a glass bowl so they can point and stare. No humans unless they're food."

His tail bobbed in the shallow water, scales glittering in the soft, hazy sunrise. Each thrust of a wave against him felt like a beckoning to go back home, to go back to safety. Yet he felt you were different. You waited for him, didn't you? He watched while you looked through your reading, took in your gentle movements with each page flip.

The sandcastle stood tall on the beach still. The shell on top a shiny white. He had heard about the ways of humans raising a white cloth to signify peace, but he had no cloth and was forced to work with what he had. After all, the shell was pretty enough, despite its little size. Had he not seen you, he would have added it to his collection.

You made him a giver, not a taker, combatting his true nature. He had barely even smelled you, and you were already having such an effect on him. The moment you entered the waters, his waters, he knew he had to act. But humans look so different alive than they do when floating dead. He had no idea what to do other than gawk at you beneath the water. Your legs glided through the water flawlessly and you didn't even have fins! Your body heat charged the waves with electricity, giving the water a new life it yearned for after being empty for so long. He had to touch you just once. Reaching out a webbed hand toward your hip, where your tail would have started if you were born in his world, he pinched the skin. Immediately pulling away when you ran, but needing more. The electricity shocked him. You were so warm and soft, no slime or scales. Your energy was a magnet, or perhaps he was lonely after all this time.

The sun had reached over the water's horizon fully, but the sand was still empty, aside from the castle. With each passing moment without you, the castle felt like a taunting joke to him. A glimpse into the world he could never enter, cursed to the water to live in darkness, surrounded by dead things. Perhaps, you would come back if he brought more gifts. You came when he gave you the shell, what about more?

Swimming as fast as his tail could glide, he dove through the schools of fish on their daily route in search of food. The little ones ducking behind their elders as he dove around. At any other time, they would be food, but he was on a mission. The cove was a distance and he wasn't as fast as before. Fish weren't nearly as nutritious to a siren's system as humans, but he made do.

The rock formations wound in wide loops, openings peaking out every which place. It was perfect for him. Enough light streaming in from the distant surface to signify the time of day, deep enough to prevent any surface creatures from finding him during rest, and large enough for his collections. The shells clung to the floor in their dead state, lacking algae or sand. He was peculiar about his collections, making sure they were clean always. In a siren mate, this was respectable and sought after. Even with no one around to impress, he found it helped pass the time.

Did you prefer flat shells? Shiny? Shells with intricate designs? He had so many, he wanted to show them all. Grabbing a maroon-and-white scallop with deep ridges, and a pure white tulip shell with a shiny outer-edge, he set off back to the beach. The water was becoming crowded with the day fish, commencing their business as they did a few hours prior. Dodging his fellow water creatures was a task, and the shells slid around in his slimy hands. If he didn't get them to the beach, the possibility of you not coming back was likely, and it was something he couldn't risk.

The fish parted as he passed, letting the larger body through to prevent harm to their smaller frames. They were aware of him in these waters, swimming around carelessly with no tasks. Many had fallen prey to his hunger, but he didn't seem interested for now. No cause for concern.

The shallow edge of the water was approaching and his speed decreased with every inch. The doubt began setting in that he chose the wrong shells. Now you would never come back. When his tail began dragging along the floor and the crown of his head kissed the water's surface, he stopped. Sinking to the floor in a huff and staring daggers into the gifts in his webbed fingers. He barely noticed your foot dipping into the water's edge in front of him. But then he felt it, that electric charge. A human in the water. Your scent permeated his gills and nostrils. You were here!

How would one approach a human without intent to eat? This was never covered by his people, and his ancestors would surely scorn him for even thinking it. But then you were approaching and he was crawling back with intense fear. You were feet away, staring right at him. His hair floating around him in a crown on the surface being a dead giveaway.

"Hey, it's okay! I won't hurt you," you tried. He stopped moving at hearing your voice.

Slowly raising his head above water, he did his best to keep you from seeing the parts of him non-human. You stood tall above him, the water only coming up to your upper-thigh.

Your giggle was like a melody he would never stop replaying in his head. Were you a new form of siren? Was this why he was drawn to you so much?

"You can really hold your breath! How have I never seen you before?" Your inquisitive nature was unnerving. His human language skills were a little rusty from time. He could always just nod and smile wide, like he would do during lectures from his people. But his teeth! The sharp needles filling his mouth weren't human in the slightest. You would know. He clenched his jaw shut tightly, looking anywhere but you.

"Alright then. Secretive. I like it. Well, this beach is public, so you can use it whenever you like. I'm just happy it isn't only me out here!" Your arms are swinging everywhere while you talk, gesturing at the sand, the ocean, the sky, him. He wants to disappear beneath the water but then he remembers the gifts. You're about to turn around and head back to the beach when he shoves a shell into your hand and hides his webbed fingers beneath the water quickly. You look at him concerned, then to your hand. The shell is beautiful, full of rich browns, reds, and whites. It's a scallop, one of your favorite shells. You run your fingers over the ridges, taking in the texture from years of formation.

"Is this what you were doing down there? Searching for shells?" Your wide eyes draw him closer by a few inches. Should he speak? What if just talking causes you to fall under the siren spell? He nods awkwardly, not wanting to risk it.

"This is a good find! You deserve to keep it," you tried handing it back to him. He dipped his head lower under the water until the tip of his nose was beneath the surface. His head was searching for the gesture for 'no' but his brain was short-circuiting. This was overwhelming and beyond comprehension. He was trying to befriend a human! What would his people think if they were here? On second thought, if they were here, you'd be dead already. Your lifeless body leaving a crimson trail in the water, body chewed through like nothing.

His head was screaming to leave, but his body was drawn to you like a spell. You were so warm, and he was so cold. The water was cruel in temperature. It's why he liked swimming in the shallow edges, where the sand soaked up the sun's heat. He would lay there for hours, warming his body up for the cold nights.

Your hand pulled away at the lack of answer from him. The confusion wracked through you, but this town had its fair share of.. interesting people. And the tourists weren't any better. You closed your other hand over the shell, holding it to your chest. "Thank you." The only answer in return was him rising his chin against the surface again. You smiled and turned back to the beach. He wanted to follow you on your journey back to land but decided that would be unsafe. He'll have to take his time with this. You were worth it. Your voice, your body, your being. He wanted to drown in it.

It felt like hours you sat on the sand reading from your book while he pretended to search for more shells in the shallow water. He would lift his head up every few minutes, pretending to catch his breath. In reality, he was checking to make sure you were still there. The task of hiding his tail beneath the water was tremendously difficult. He had to practically sit on it to keep the fins from appearing. You were a distance away, and would probably say it was a wave anyway, but he didn't want to risk it.

After some time, he got tired of pretending to swim around. He wanted you near again. Without second guessing, he threw the second shell in your direction. The hollow shell bounced off the tip of your book and landed on your reclined chest with a little bounce. You closed the book and picked up the object to examine closely, admiring the shiny surface and bright color. Sitting up, you look at the stranger and smile. "It's beautiful! A tulip!" Covering your eyes from the sun, you spot him nodding from the water.

The sun's heat sizzles off the water, reflecting in a blinding light that hurts. You can barely see anything, can barely even see him. It was getting hotter by the second, and your body was suffering. Looking at your phone, you realize it's past noon. A good time for lunch.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna make something to eat." His throat lurched at the human, something he would usually see as food, say the word 'eat.' "You're welcome to join me! I live right over the dropoff." That awkward silence again. Not an answer, but enough to guess from. "Or you could keep looking," you trailed off with a frown. "It'll give you some alone time on the beach, I guess. But I'll be back in a bit, if that's okay?" He nodded from the water at a hurried pace. He didn't want you to leave, but it would give him enough time to grab more shells for this pretend game. You waved him off and headed over the dropoff, glancing over your shoulder once out of curiosity. He hadn't moved an inch.

When you were out of sight, he pushed his tail out from beneath him, finally flattening it out straight in a long stretch. He floated like that for a while, taking in the possibilities that could come from this breakthrough. Regardless of the outcomes, he had to make you see him. And for that, he needed more shells.

Tagging some cuties: @strangerthings1983fan @harrys-tittie @jobean12-blog @idkidknemore

Part 3

[elsewhereuniversity]

Taker of the cursèd oak chunks here! I'll be happy to have those bone scissors, if I may.

In return: three oaken statuettes of three of the muses. Aoidē's pointed ears are pricked to full attention as she holds a finger up to her snout in a hashing gesture. Melete's bushy tail flows behind her like a river as she perches, only the sparkling of her eyes betraying her thoughts. Mnēmē's paws clutch a basket, as her whiskers twitch mischievously.

Like the penguins of leopard seal teeth before them, these fox sisters should not be separated. They'll certainly find their ways back to each other, but who knows what else they might find?

Happily given, to a craftsman like yourself: scissors of bone, wickedly sharp and radiating an intense aura of dread which for the right person can really up productivity. In turn I'll see these statuettes to their purpose, whatsoever that might turn out to be - and fine work you've done there!

[take-taker-taken]

Hey there! How's everything going? I was just wondering if you could write a 1990 undertaker x fem!reader where he does his best to comfort her after walking in on her crying (that'd be a fun yet cute thing to read, plus, I've been going through some rough shit lately so taker was literally the first thing that came to my mind to help me cope)

Hi there, lovely anon and thank you for the ask! This idea was just so sweet - never written Baby!Taker before and I hope this makes you feel better, and that your situation improves in general.

Comfort

You dash down the wide hallway, tears blurring your vision; you’re so sick of your stupid boss! You’ve only been here a week and so you’re still learning your way around the arena and he thought it was funny to mock you in front of everyone about getting lost twice in one day. Honestly, all the hallways and doors look the same - just grey and blue everywhere! You turn a corner and go through the first door that you come to, relieved to find that it’s dark and quiet. You don’t bother switching the light on - it’s illuminated enough from an emergency exit sign over on the far side - just drop into a plastic chair and bury your face in your hands. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths as you try to bring your emotions under control but it’s useless and the sobs come in great waves, though you do your best to stifle them.

You’re not sure how long you sit there but the sound of the door opening brings you back to the present and you look around, gasping in shock at the sight that greets you. An impossibly tall figure fills the doorway, standing there in a hat and long black coat and your brain catches up and matches the figure to a poster you saw earlier when you were front of house. It’s one of the performers for the show tonight; a creepy-looking guy called The Undertaker. You notice that what looks like mist swirls around his feet and you swallow thickly before sniffing.

“The… The locker rooms are further along.” You say and then frown. “I think. I mean - maybe… oh, I don’t know.” Another wave of unhappiness descends, your bottom lip wobbles and the tears come again as you hide your face in embarrassment.

Rather than leaving the giant steps into the room, closes the door behind him and just stands there, watching. You look up, wiping your sleeve across your eyes.

“You’re sad.” The man’s voice is a monotone growl and you shift slightly in your seat as he moves closer. For an entertainer he’s not very gregarious - maybe he’s just trying to get into character for later.

“I-I’m OK. Just having a bad day.” You eye him nervously, watching the tails of his coat float in a non-existent breeze. You sniff again and then go very still as a huge gloved hand lands on your shoulder, lifts up and then comes down again. He’s … he’s patting your shoulder, but it’s entirely mechanical and a bit too heavy - as though he knows what to do, but not why he should do it. You roll your shoulder as you become aware that even through the gloves, his hand feels chilly and then you stand up before he leaves you bruised. Curious, you try to peer up under the brim of his hat in order to see his face more clearly. Two sharp eyes stare down at you and he grimaces slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with being looked at so keenly.

“It’s alright.” He says in that same flat tone and this time when his hand comes up you flinch slightly because it’s near your face and… oh. In the same automatic way as before, he starts to pat you on the head, the force squishing you down a bit each time. You allow it for a few moments and then reach up and catch his gloved hand in both of yours in an effort to save yourself from a concussion.

You hold on to his hand as you look up at him and you can’t help but smile at the endearing combination of cluelessness and well-meaning. He doesn’t smile back, but just tilts his head slightly as he stares down and you can see now that his eyes are green. He lifts the hand that you’re still holding on to and gestures to your face with it.

“You’re better.”

You let his hand go and nod, the smile still on your face. “I think I am, yes. Thank you.”

In a moment of inspiration you step closer and put your arms around his waist and give him a hug, pressing your face to his chest and leaving a stray tear on his wide necktie. You giggle slightly when as expected, his arms close around you in that mechanical fashion though he doesn’t squeeze. You stand like that for a good minute and you realise that if you don’t move, he’ll probably just remain. The thought is tempting but you still have work to do this evening and so you disengage from him.

“Thank you,” You say again. “That was really kind of you.”

“Welcome.” He replies, again demonstrating that he knows what societal niceties demand. He gives you a slow tip of his broad-rimmed hat and then in a swirl of coat tails and mist, he’s gone.

TTT

[c-casu]

Here are some Tachycheirids (this planet's equivalent of Carnivorans and Theropods). The Lowland Dinadrothere (Dinadrotherium ingens) is a big omnivorous scavenger, though it often hunts prey of every kind. They live in the arid north east of the Eastern continent and only form social bonds to mate and to take care of the young

The Ring-tailed Hotu (Intracephalus gracilis) is a small, mostly nocturnal, opportunistic omnivore, that hunts small prey and forages for eggs and plant matter, but also scavenges from time to time.

The Green Mofcath (Setaphorus peninsularis) is a small arboreal social critter inhabiting the Martu peninsula's rainforest. They are granivores that bury the extra food underground coated in a cheese/silk like poisonous and maleodorant substance that becomes edible when in contact with their saliva. They live in harems lead by a matriarch with up to ten males and their cubs. Males act as care takers and breeders, except for the oldest in the group, who only acts as a breeder, and who'll inherit the harem after the matriarch's death by becoming female, since the species is protandrous.

A size comparison also

[personalpagan]

Duality of the Jötnar:

Ymir: Nothing, and Everything. The result of worlds colliding, creating the first being. Ymir came from a world of nothingness. He was one of the sole figures that came from Ginnungagap. That nothingness eventually became occupied by the dismembered parts of his body, after having been torn apart by the Aesir. Ymir went from occupying the Great Nothingness, to being everything that surrounds us: the mountains, the water, the clouds. 

Angrboda: The Giver of life, and the Taker of life. One of the foremost Jötuns, and the bearer of some of the other Gods. Angrboda descends from a violent tribe in myth, the Jötuns being notoriously troublesome, particularly for humans and the Aesir themselves. Blood often coats their hands, stains their teeth. Known life-takers. Yet, Angrboda has birthed many of the great Jötuns. From her, we have been given other beings of Duality. Their lives, their power, would not have come to being without her creation.

Jörmungandr: The Beginning and the End. The circular World Snake, who, in most depictions, has bitten his own tail. Serpents are given a bad rep in Christian interpretations of the myths, seen as destructive—bringers of (Christian-inspired, most likely) Ragnarök. But, it is well documented that our far ancestors revered Serpents, and recognized their relationship with life and death. Odin himself needed to take the shape of a snake to travel the Worlds. Their power was immense, and deeply spiritual. Jörmungandr can be interpreted as the World's Beginning and End, wrapped around our Realm in a never-ending coil, his head, the beginning, his tail, the end.

Fenrir: The Antagonist, and the Protagonist. Once a wolf-pup, the very thing that mankind so loves. Our faithful friends, dogs have long since been one of our greatest allies. Wolves are protectors, powerful, and with fur that is soft to the touch. But Fenrir grew too large, too powerful, and the Aesir began to fear him. Fear, as the myth portrays, can make people do bad things. Fenrir is chained, a sword forced into his jaws. A once faithful friend to a prisoner. Circling back to Ragnarök, Fenrir is set loose, seeking his revenge on the people who had ensnared him, having been made into the villain. 

Hel: Life and Death. Quite obvious, this one. Half her body is that of a rotting corpse—the state in which every living thing will eventually embody. The other half is a beautiful maiden, reflecting that of a woman in the prime of her life. Hel is the keeper of the Realm of the Dead, the one who we can presume to meet one day. Hel, the Realm, in myth, is a mirror-like reflection of what lies here—life seems to continue on as usual, though this time alongside our Ancestors. The Queen of Hel keeps things in order, keeping the Dead as such, and the living out. 

Skadi: Calm and Rage. The Goddess of Winter. If you have experienced the falling of snow, then you will know the quiet of it. The World seems to go silent as the flakes fall, the wind has died down, the animals are hidden away from the cold, no birds to be heard. Nature seems to settle in, and silence settles onto those who will listen. A prime time for hunting, particularly deer, known for their demure ways. Skadi occupies this land, treads the freshly fallen snow in silence, waiting for the right time to loose one of her arrows. But Skadi also knows rage, for that of her slain father. She storms into the home of the Aesir themselves, boots stomping, voice loud, demanding to be heard. A consuming force that doesn’t let you rest until the matter is settled. Only once appeased may the snow fall calmly again.

(A/N: Just a little thing I wanted to write. I've been doing my studying and meditating and was thinking about the Jötnar Tribe. UPG, I would like to clarify. Your experience with them might be entirely different :). )

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

This I Promise You

Pairing: Juice Ortiz x female!reader

Category: Fluff/Comfort

Word count: 1,608

Summary: Patching up your injured boyfriend turns into making a big decision.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cuts, bruises and scratches, mentions of blood but nothing graphic

Masterlist

Taglist

Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.

It was late at night, close to two in the morning, when Juice finally arrived home. He tried being as quiet as he could, given you would be fast asleep in the bedroom that was a short distance from the front door. Cuts and bruises littered his arms, hands, and a few scratches resided on his cheeks.

The ride out to Stockton was rough. The MC ended up getting some cops on their tail as they rode into Stockton on top of that they had gotten ambushed by the MC they were supposed to meet to reach an agreement on the issue at hand and to discuss future steps toward working together. All members of Samcro had gotten their share of cuts, scratches, and bruises from the brawl.

As Juice attempted to make his way silently into the bathroom to clean himself up and bandage a particularly deep cut, he did his best to keep his groans to a minimum but you were still awake in the bedroom. All you could do was toss and turn as you waited for you man to come home to you. You were never able to sleep well, if at all, without him next to you.

In the bathroom, Juice rummaged through the medicine cabinet in search of the first aid kit. A few medicine bottles and antibiotic creams tumbled to the floor as he pulled out the small kit. “Shit!” He frustratedly whispered as the few medications hit the tile floor, clattering and rattling upon impact. In the quiet house the sound seemed to be magnified times ten. He just knew he had woken you up. How could he not with all that commotion?

As you laid in bed, you kept thinking you heard something so you grabbed your gun out of the top drawer of the bedside table and hopped out of bed to investigate. You hoped it was Juice but if not, you weren’t afraid to shoot. You heard the clattering of things falling to the floor in your bathroom so naturally you made your way to the door. You cautiously peaked your head around the doorway and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the love of your life. “Oh thank God!” Your hand rested on your chest where your heart resided.

Juice spun around hearing you speak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be loud.” He watched as you looked him over. He hoped you wouldn’t see the nasty slash on his side. The guy he was fighting with during the ambush managed to whip out a switchblade and ended up making contact with Juice’s side. He didn’t think it was that bad at the time thanks to all the adrenaline but on his way home, the gnash as stinging and painful and still bleeding. His bloodstain soaked shirt proved it. He had contemplated on pulling over and calling Chibs to slap a bandage on it but he decided not to. He wanted to get home to you asap.

Your eyes roamed his bloody and battered body, taking in each cut, each bruise, and each scratch. Your eyes landed on his side, the blood appeared to still be fresh and deep. You hoped it wouldn’t require a trip to see Tara this late at night. You wondered if the others were in the same rough shape. “You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.” You insisted, reaching for the first aid kit from his hands. You didn't have the skills Tara or Chibs had but you knew enough from watching the two and doing a little bit of research to understand what to do.

Juice knew you were a good care taker, a good nurse — in more ways than one. Honestly he would rather have you taking care of him more than than one else. You always knew what he needed before he did and how to get him to cooperate when it came to something he wasn’t particularly fond of. Juice passed you the kit and propped himself up against the bathroom sink. “Be gentle. It really hurts.” He practically pleads with you. Juice knows the last thing you want to do is hurt him more and that you’ve always been gentle with him but he still wants you to know just how painful the wound is for him.

“Always baby.” You lean up and gently kiss his forehead. It’s one kiss that always comforts him whenever he’s hurt or nervous or upset. It’s the one kiss you give him every morning and every night when he’s home, even when you’re at the clubhouse or TM. You remember how embarrassed he used to get when his brothers would see you kiss his forehead but now he doesn’t care anymore. You mean more to him than anything and anyone in the world.

You opted against having him try to remove his shirt knowing it would cause him more pain so you grab some scissors and cut it down the middle. Any other time Juice would protest but at this point he just wanted to be cleaned up and the pain to ease by any means necessary. You gingerly peel his shirt away from the bloodied skin. Damn. This was nasty. Nastier than you expected. You sucked in a breath. Here we go. You grabbed a clean wash cloth from the closet and wet it, beginning to lightly wash off the blood. Juice groaned and hissed as you worked. “I’m sorry lovely. I’m trying to be gentle.” You glanced up at Juice’s face and saw how hard he was trying to be still and let you bandage him. You had to be quick but efficient. Before too long the gnash was as clean as you could get it. “Almost done sweetie.” You promised, hands digging through the first aid kit. “Did I ever tell you what I wanted to be when I was a kid?” You thought getting his mind off you patching him up would help pass the time.

“No, I don’t-” He sucked in a breath as you applied antibiotic cream to the wound. You knew it had to sting and burn. When Juice finally exhaled, he continued his sentence, “think you have.”

“I wanted to be a florist, have my own little shop and maybe sell some little trinkets and balloons and cards. Be a one stop shop for gifts for special occasions or those just because moments, you know? I know it’s silly but that’s what I wanted. I always loved flowers — the way they smell, all the different colors and types, the way you can make so many beautiful combinations of different types of flowers, and how much they make people smile when receiving them.” You shrugged. Gently placing the bandage on the wound, you glance up at Juice to see how he’s holding up only to find him already looking at you, love and admiration evident in his eyes. “What?” You embarrassingly chuckled.

“That’s not silly, being a florist. You’ve got a gorgeous garden in the backyard so why not do it? I knew that was your passion from the first time I gave you a carnation, remember? It was all I could afford. I was terrified you’d be disappointed it wasn’t a fancy bouquet and hate it, never want to see me again. But I’ll never forget how your eyes lit up and the biggest, most gorgeous smile grew on your face. You have no idea how relieved I was.” Juice confessed, recalling the memory of picking you up for that first date. It wasn’t some magical fairy tale date but it was nice. You both made the best of you had and ended up having fun despite Juice being called away for a club meeting.

You cautiously patted the edges of the bandage onto his skin to stick. You were blushing at the memory. “I remember that like it was yesterday. You looked so handsome, made sure I was safe and comfortable on your bike.”

“You should do it. Charming could use a good florist, someone passionate and caring to help make someone’s day better.” Juice encouraged. He genuinely wanted you to do this. There were plenty of vacant spaces in town that would be perfect. You always supported him so now it was his turn to support you.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a little daydream these days.” You waved you hand in dismissal.

“Then make it a reality. I’ll help you with it. It’s only fair, you help out with Clear Passages. The club will help too.” Juice offered. He could see the hesitation and worry in your eyes. Starting your own business is scary and he gets that but Juice was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure you succeeded.

After thinking about it and seeing the look of encouragement on Juice’s face, you finally caved. “Okay, okay! I’ll do it, let’s do it!” You never dreamed that you would make this decision at almost three in the morning after bandaging up your boyfriend but here you are. “Wait. What about the money? It’s going to take a lot of money to get this idea off the ground.” You started to panic. You didn’t have that kind of money and neither did Juice.

“You let me worry about that, sweetheart. I promise you’ll have the best and most successful florist shop Charming has ever seen.” Juice wasn’t sure at the moment where he’d get the money but if he had to pull extra shifts at TM and do extra runs for the club, he would just to see your dream come true.