#like a cat with a ball of yarn or something

[frau-wilhelm-klink]

HELP, THIS APPEARED ON MY DASH RIGHT AFTER I SAW A SELF-SHIPPING POST AND GOT TO THINKING ABOUT MY MEN🤣😭😭

crisp glass of water moodboard

[kittycatred]

Red...sob i want a cat:(

well no worries !!! because i have now invented the ULTIMATE solution !!! /ᐠ ⎚⩊⎚マ

behold.............

your BRAND NEW government assigned cat, by yours truly !!!! ദ്ദി´▽`)

[neeeooon]

Hiii ! Could I request some Blue Lock guys (Rin, Chigiri, Reo, Isagi, Bachira, Nagi) reacting to their significant other (who loves to knit /crochet) gifting them a handmade scarf or beanie ? Thank you <3

this is such a cute idea!! thank you for requesting, i hope you like it! 🤍

when you make a gift for them ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi rin

-> “here!” you beamed, pushing all your nervousness aside as you held the small gift bag in rin’s direction. he stares at it. stares at you. and hesitantly takes the bag. “what’s this for?” “a gift. for you! i made it :)”

-> and his heart clenches in his chest. “y-you made something for me?” “yeah! it’s getting cold and i haven’t seen you with one, so… i made it!”

-> rin pulls the black scarf from the bag with a small smile. you’d asked him his favorite color a few days ago, but he didn’t think much of it at the time

-> “i… don’t even know—“ “you’re welcome, rin,” you smile as you help him put it on. rin runs his fingers along the soft thread and smiles back. “thank you.”

chigiri hyoma

-> you were shopping for yarn to knit with when you found a dark burgundy color that immediately reminded you of your boyfriend, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you made him something out of it

-> when you hand chigiri the beanie you made him, he gets surprisingly shy. “oh..? hi.” “hi?” “… do you think my hair is too long?” “HUH?”

-> you manage to stop giggling at his flushed expression enough to explain. “i saw the yarn and thought about you! plus, it’s getting cold, and you don’t own a hat.” “you love me.” “i do!” “:( thank you.”

mikage reo

-> it’s no secret that reo doesn’t need much. he can buy anything and have it in his hands that day, but you noticed a lack of personal items in his room and decided to do something about it

-> when you appear by reo’s car with your hands hiding anxiously behind your back, he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “what’s that?”

-> so you hand the soft scarf you knitted to him and watch as reo’s eyes widen in realization. “wait, y/n… did you make this? for me?”

-> “well, you’re always buying new things, so i doubt you need it, but i thought you might like having something personal? if that—“ “i love it. no one’s ever… i love it, y/n.”

isagi yoichi

-> isagi was suspicious after you made a passing comment about scarves and the weather getting colder. he knows you like to knit, but the thought didn’t cross his mind until you were holding a ball of fabric in his direction

-> he takes the scarf and nearly melts at the way you beam at him in pride. “do you like it? i made it with that fabric you always comment on. the one i made that blanket out of?”

-> “i didn’t think you remembered,” he comments. he shouldn’t be this surprised, but the thought you put into your gift made his chest flutter. “thanks, y/n. i’ll wear it all the time!” “you better!”

bachira meguru

-> “no way!! a present? for me?” he’s bouncing around you in excitement as you reveal the gift bag in your hands

-> it was getting colder and you loved to crochet, so you decided to make a little something for your boyfriend. when bachira discovered the cat beanie, he lit up

-> “it has ears!!” “it does!!” “y/n!!” “bachira!!” “i love it so much!! i’ll never take it off!” “i’m glad you like it! please take it off to wash your hair, though!”

nagi seishiro

-> “i know you’d never wear a scarf since it can be difficult to put on, so i knitted you a beanie instead.”

-> nagi blinks at the black beanie in your hands, and you lean forward to place it on his head before he can object

-> “what do you think? it looks a little big… do you want me to fix it?” “that would be a hassle. i like it.”

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ cherish 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, pregnancy, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, oral f receiving, face sitting, lactation kink, creampie, p in v sex

OPs NOTES ⁞ combined a request for pregnant!reader with feyd not wanting reader to leave the bed + feyd fluff 🩷

MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.

Mornings with Feyd are a struggle for one reason and one reason alone. Your husband despises it when you leave your shared bed. And it’s gotten even worse since Dr. Suk confirmed your delicate condition. Your and Feyd’s tireless efforts at conceiving a child have finally borne fruit. You’re pregnant, only two months from delivery now, in fact. You feel his arm wrapped around you, his hand caressing your growing belly. You smile at how protective he is of you and the little one, even in his sleep. And when you try to move out from under his arm, he lets out a low, annoyed hiss, almost like a cat that’s had its ball of yarn taken away from it.

“Stay.”

His words are a low rasp, one that has you smiling to yourself as you struggle to sit up, “It’s time for breakfast, my love.”

You bite back the moan building in your throat as he moves his hand lower, to the apex between your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “But I have such a sweet little treat right here…”

You turn to face him, giving him a light swat against his bare chest. Not for the first time, you’re blown away by just how handsome your husband is, your heartbeat quickening at the sight of his angular face, those intense eyes peering at you, half-lidded with sleep. You lean in to press a kiss against his temple, moving your lips to brush against his jaw next.

“Good morning, my husband,” you breathe against his lips, feeling him smile against you.

You watch as Feyd sits up, his hand moving to your stomach, caressing it as he smiles gently, an expression that he reserves only for you, “How do you feel this morning?”

“Sleepy,” you admit, “My back was sore last night. It took me a while to fall asleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Feyd frowns, his hand moving to rest against your lower back, the gesture making your heart warm, “I could’ve stayed awake with you.”

“You were sleeping so peacefully…”

Feyd presses a finger to your lips, silencing you with a stern look, “Next time you experience even the slightest discomfort, I want you to wake me, little one.”

You roll your eyes, taking his hand in your own and pressing a kiss to his fingertip, smiling mischievously, “As you wish, my Lord Feyd.”

The serious expression on his face melts into something far more tender, a soft smile gracing his features as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. Feyd lifts the fabric of your nightgown, pressing a kiss to your stomach next, whispering to the life growing inside of you.

“Good morning, little Leto.”

You beam at Feyd, pleased that he’s agreed to name your son after your beloved father. He chuckles as you pull him into another kiss, your lips moving desperately against his as he pulls you into his lap. It hasn’t escaped Feyd’s notice how much you seem to long for him in this vulnerable state, whether it be his protection, his affection, or the pleasure he’s content to give to you any morning, noon, or night. At this moment, it seems you’re interested in the latter, judging by how eagerly you’re palming at him over the fabric of his sleeping pants. Feyd shakes his head, grinning at you.

“Eager, wanton little baroness.”

“Cruel, selfish baron,” you pout, “Your wife requires your touch. Your care. She carries your son inside her womb and even now you seek to deny her?”

Feyd shakes his head, laying back and gazing up at you as you straddle his waist. You pull your nightgown over your head, baring your body to him. Your breasts are fuller than they were a few months ago, the sight of which has Feyd’s mouth watering. The sight of your swollen belly and the realization that it’s his child that grows inside of you has his cock growing painfully hard as you rub yourself against him. He moves his hands to caress your hips, moving down to your ass, giving you a playful slap as you ease yourself onto his cock. He lets out a low groan, rolling his hips against yours as you bounce up and down on him.

“You look so beautiful,” Feyd mumbles, his voice hazy with lust as he stares up at you, “Like a goddess. You ought to let me have a shrine built to you.”

“Only if you have one built for yourself beside me,” you murmur, brushing your lips against his with a smile, your hands resting on his chest, feeling each breath, the way each muscle moves, “My sweet, handsome husband. My lord.”

Feyd sits up on his elbows, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling eagerly, letting your milk flow onto his tongue, the sweet taste making him eager for more. His lips are greedy, teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh as you continue bouncing up and down on his cock, feeling him hit the spot inside you that your fingers can never quite reach. When the flow from your right breast stops, he moves to your left, his palm moving up to squeeze and soothe you.

You reach your peak as he mouths at your breast, his hand holding your hips in place as he continues to take his fill, rutting up against you over and over and over until he spills himself inside you, watching his spend leak from your swollen cunt. But, he doesn’t seem to want this lazy morning together to be over.

“Sit on my face, little one,” Feyd rasps, pulling you in gently by the hips, “Let me taste you.”

You move up to do as he asks, rubbing your pearl against his nose as he laps at you eagerly, hands grasping at your thighs as you ride his face, the mixture of your arousal and his tasting tart yet not unpleasant on his tongue. Feyd thinks he could die a happy man like this, feasting on your sweet cunt, but he knows you would slap his chest and scold him if he ever said such a thing. That you’d threaten him if he ever even thought of dying before you. Perhaps the two of you will die together, he muses as you squeal his name, your thighs tremble as your fingers move against your swollen bud. Your bodies buried together on Giedi Prime, laid to rest in each other’s arms for all eternity. It’s macabre, but Feyd can’t think of anything more romantic.

After you reach your peak, Feyd is surprised when you move off of him, cuddling up against his side, pressing featherlight kisses along his jaw. You trace the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, down his chin to his neck, just smiling at him serenely. His breath catches in his throat at the tenderness in your touch, the genuine love in your eyes as you continue pressing kisses to his neck. His hand moves to your cheek, cupping it gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

You beam at him, radiant as ever, glowing as a woman in love does, “Oh, Feyd… It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. Let’s stay in bed a little longer, like you wanted.”

His heart soars as he wraps you in his arms, cherishing this moment where it’s only the two of you.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Invisible String

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Invisible String

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: In the aftermath of the nogitsune, Stiles takes up knitting at the suggestion of his therapist, and is surprised to find how much it helps him — and Derek — heal.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches." He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?" The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

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In the aftermath of the whole possession by an ancient trickster demon thing, the one thing Stiles doesn't expect to hear from his in-the-know therapist is that he should consider taking up a hobby — something crafty and creative — to occupy his time. He does his best to suppress a snort of laughter but it's a near miss, insisting that he just doesn't have the patience for it. 

Just give it a try, she says, and that's how Stiles begrudgingly finds himself in front of his laptop, scrolling down a Buzzfeed list of the top ten crafts guaranteed to reduce stress and anxiety.

It goes about as well as he'd expected. 

His first (and last) attempt at baking nearly burns down the kitchen. 

Every surface of his bedroom turns into some kind of viral rainbow (no matter where he sits or what he touches, his hands, his hair, and the back of his jeans are always covered) as he proceeds to drip paint everywhere but the canvas. 

Origami ends in a mountain of the saddest looking swans the world has ever seen, crumpled up with varying octaves of frustrated sighs and volleyed into the trash bin with a fist pump and a victorious shout of score one, Stilinski! 

He can't draw for shit, even his stick figures have Scott and Lydia squinting like the worst game of Pictionary. 

He hasn't got a steady enough hand for calligraphy, and more often than not, the pen just ends up stuck between his teeth as he loses himself down a Sporcle rabbit hole. 

All of his short stories end up reading like police reports. 

He nearly impales his thumb on a needle when he tries out his mom's old sewing machine. 

His dad comes home one night with a barrage of complaints from the neighbors claiming there's a cult of angry cats terrorizing the neighborhood when Stiles attempts to learn how to play the cello.

He's about ready to give up when he turns the corner at the local craft store and ends up in an aisle filled with rows upon rows of brightly colored, plushy bundles of yarn. He glances at the display sample of a cozy looking hat, eyes darting to the bright blue wool-acrylic blend of thick, soft yarn right in front of him, and then back up toward the hat, wondering just how difficult it would be to make one of his own. Might be nice with the winter months coming up. 

He dithers for a moment before heaving a resigned sigh and grabbing a skein of the blue yarn, because blue is just pretty, and a set of knitting needles in the recommended size, and brings them up to the register, rationalizing that at least if this endeavor doesn't go well, all he'll be left with is tangled string, novelty chopsticks, and a wallet that's $11 lighter.

• • •

He picks it up surprisingly quickly. One week, a couple of YouTube tutorials, and a series of bookmarked Pinterest tabs detailing beginner projects, and he's already mastered garter, stockinette, and single rib stitch, and has about a dozen swatches scattered across his room. 

Even more surprising is how much he finds he genuinely enjoys it. Likes the fact that it keeps him calm, keeps him grounded. Gives his restless hands something to do, his racing mind something to focus on. Likes the fact that, once he gets the basic beginner stitches down, he can just zone out and get lost in the gentle clicking of the knitting needles, the rhythmic repetition of his hands working to create a new series of interlocking loops, a creative distraction to dive into whenever the guilt and panic of everything that's happened over the last couple of months threatens to overwhelm him.

His first official project is a bunny knit from a single stockinette square, seamed and stuffed with poly-fil, gifted to his therapist as a sort of thank you for pushing him to try something new.

• • •

He finds his gaze drifting toward Derek late one night at a pack meeting, mapping out and lingering over all the worrying little details of his body language — the tense line of his shoulders, eyebrows set in a semi-permanent crease, lips pulled into a pensive frown, fingertips digging into the underside of the worn wooden table hard enough to leave indents — and finds himself wondering if Derek has got any secret stress-reducing hobbies, if maybe he could benefit from having a creative outlet the same way Stiles has been.

He tries to imagine Derek taking up knitting, and has to fight to suppress the fond little flutter that stirs inside his chest at the image of Derek with a half-finished scarf splayed across his lap, yarn wrapped around his stupidly big, strong hands as he works them in an intricate pattern, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, watching movies and working on projects together; has to bite back a bout of giddy laughter at the idea of Derek talking shop about his favorite stitch patterns, wandering down craft store aisles with a mountain of brightly colored, kitten soft skeins clutched in his arms, arguing the merits of aluminum vs. bamboo, cotton vs. wool, with those big surly eyebrows of his, as Stiles strolls along beside him. It's so absurdly soft and domestic that Stiles can't contain the longing sigh that spills out of his mouth at the thought of it.

Derek's eyes snap up in his direction, narrowing in equal parts curiosity and concern, and Stiles is so fucked because there's no way Derek hadn't heard the little stutter in his heartbeat just now, hadn't caught him staring, open-mouthed and shameless, with this stupid overly fond lovesick expression on his face, when he was supposed to be paying attention to Scott's detailed report of his recent perimeter patrols, and taking notes on the newest potential monster of the week he's apparently responsible for researching. 

And because his body is an absolute traitor, he can feel the telltale prickle of white hot heat creeping up the back of his neck and sprawling across his entire face like a goddamn sunburn, and oh god, there's no way Derek isn't piecing it all together, no way he isn't going to figure it out, no way Stiles will be able to keep his stupid little crush of his a secret if he keeps this up.

He attempts to salvage the moment with what he hopes is a friendly smile and a nonchalant nod, but judging by the way Derek's eyebrows hike high enough to get altitude sickness, it probably comes across as more of a flail and a manic grimace.

Which is just so great.

Yup. Fucking nailed it.

• • •

And yeah, it probably wouldn't help the whole pretending he's not secretly in love with a sourwolf thing if he were to randomly surprise Derek with a handmade knitted hat out of absolutely nowhere, but like — look — the color combination of that super soft merino wool featured every single fleck of Derek's eyes down to the exact shade, which is just…yeah. Super pretty. So like, he couldn't just not get it.

As is Stiles's luck, he can't even keep the hat itself a secret, because a few days after the pack meeting, Derek comes swooping in through his bedroom window while he's right in the middle of a round of decreases, causing him to shriek bloody murder and drop half a row of stitches in the process.

He makes a floundering attempt to shove the half-finished hat underneath his pillow, but of course, Derek's reflexes are faster (motherfucking werewolves) and he snags it out of Stiles's hands before he's even made it halfway across the room, staring down at it intently, running his fingers across the delicate little interlocking arrows, a flicker of a smile threatening to break across his face as he looks up and fixes Stiles with a curious expression.

"New hobby?" he asks, his tone uncharacteristically light, and Stiles prepares himself for the inevitable onslaught of derisive comments and mockery, because apparently he can't just have this one nice thing.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles sighs with a weary roll of his eyes. "Make fun of me all you want, but we'll see who's laughing when I single-handedly defeat the next big bad with my killer dexterity and refined upper-body strength."

Derek's lips twist into a frown, brows creasing in frustration.

"I'm not making fun of you," he says solemnly, all traces of lighthearted banter vanishing as he takes a tentative step forward and places the set of circular needles into Stiles's hands with a measurable gentleness.

"Oh," Stiles says softly, all defensiveness rushing out of him on the next breath, awed by the fact that Derek looks genuinely offended by the assumption that he would tease Stiles over something like this. "Okay, well…good. Because I'm actually really liking learning how to knit so far."

He holds Derek's gaze long enough to catch a thoughtful hum in response, and then he's stumbling backward into his rolly chair with all the grace of a mountain troll, breathing out a nerve-addled huff as he refocuses his attention on the project clutched in his hands. 

There's a soft creak of leather and bedsprings as Derek perches on the edge of Stiles's bed, watching with rapt interest as Stiles sets to work fixing the dropped stitches, mesmerized by the subtle flex of his forearms, the delicate twist of his long, nimble fingers as Stiles slips the little stitch marker from one needle to the other to start a new row. 

They sink into a companionable silence, the only sound the gentle click of the knitting needles, the steady rise and fall of his focused, meditative breathing, peppered with the occasional murmured mantra of knit one, purl one as Stiles sticks his tongue between his teeth, brow furrowed in concentration as he deciphers what type of stitch he's supposed to make next.

"So, what made you decide to take up knitting?" Derek's voice rings out across the room, head tilted to the side as Stiles produces a thick blunt-tipped needle and begins threading the working yarn through the last few live stitches of the crown.

"Well," Stiles sighs, tension coiling in his shoulders as he struggles to split his concentration. Because this is the most crucial part. Mess this part up and the whole thing unravels. "It started out as a suggestion from my therapist, actually. She figured I needed something— some nice, simple, normal thing — to occupy my time, help take my mind off things…something that isn't just endless research and round-the-clock panic attacks over the supernatural nightmare my life has become ever since—"

There's a sharp intake of breath and a soft, barely audible noise like a wounded animal, and Stiles glances up to find Derek staring a hard line into the floor, looking crestfallen.

"Hey," Stiles says consolingly, offering Derek an apologetic smile, and quickly amending. "Present company excluded, of course."

Derek huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eases considerably.

"So I tried out a bunch of stuff, which I totally sucked at, by the way," Stiles continues, pulling the working yarn taut to close the opening at the top of the hat. "Everything from baking, to painting, to sewing, to trying to learn how to play an instrument — Dad practically had to beg me to return the cello I rented out from the school — before I just kind of accidentally stumbled across knitting…which, it turns out, I'm actually pretty good at."

"I like it," Stiles adds after a moment's pause. "I like that it's both relaxing and productive. I like working with my hands, being able to make things."

"I like���" he trails off, throat suddenly tight as he fights off the familiar sting in the corners of his eyes. "I like the fact that, after everything that's happened, I still have the ability to create beautiful things."

His fingers tremble as he works to weave the yarn tail through the last column of stitches, and he has to pause to catch his breath. He chances a glance over at Derek, and is struck with a low swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach at the sight of him staring down at his open palms with an intense expression on his face, so achingly familiar that Stiles knows, without a shadow of a doubt, what he must be thinking in that moment — that the two of them share something no one else in the pack will ever truly be able to understand— that every time they look down at their own hands, they're seeing the same thing: the sharp skewer of a set of claws; the slow twist of a sword; phantom blood clinging to such delicate things made into weapons against their will.

The finished hat lands in Derek's hands a minute later, effectively snapping him out of his downward spiral. He blinks down at it a few times, looking utterly bewildered, before his gaze flickers back up toward Stiles, eyebrows arched in question.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches."

He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?"

"Well, yeah," Stiles says as he ducks his head to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck, heat rising in the hollows of his cheekbones. "It — you know — it matches your eyes, or whatever."

Derek stares at him for a moment longer before his gaze drifts back down to the little hat woven with all the colors of the forest, cradling it in his hands like it's the most precious thing in the world.

• • •

The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

And yeah, maybe Stiles's heart does that same little flutter on a much grander scale when, several months down the line, the two of them exchange Christmas gifts, only to realize they've knitted each other matching scarves.

[todaysbird]

my cat is indoors but she is very scaredy (has been all her life, she's 8yo now, was 4 when partner got her) and refuses to play with most toys or enrichment tools like tunnels, igloo, yarn, plushies, wands, cat tree.... she just lays around all day or hides under a chair and sometimes she accepts to chase a couple balls but not always. I worry that she isn't getting enough enrichment but nothing seems to interest her enough that she isn't spooked after a few seconds of sniffing/interacting. I worry that I am doing something wrong :/

i’m not a cat expert but she may be too anxious to interact and play…calming diffusers like Feliway and calming treats can help, but vets can also prescribe anxiety meds! you could just also have a lazy kitty. maybe try food-based enrichment (balls with treats inside etc) to give her something to do if she seems responsive to that?

[bestruction]

i was the previous anon who asked about requests :D for sasuke i actually have a few ideas... so we know sasuke is like pretty stoic and traumatized so i was thinking of surprising him with a kitten to soften him up because i feel like he would fold and find it so cute even if he doesnt want to admit it and they r just playing with the kitten and its climbing on sasuke and just fluff, i really love the idea of gentle sasuke bc it gives me sm comfort :) i was also thinking of an au idea, i saw someone say they imagine the uchihas as asylum patients in a modern au bc of how insane and traumatizing their lives were and i was thinking of a oneshot or something of being sasukes nurse and slowly falling in love, it doesnt have to be a modern au though because i feel like a mental institution in the naruto universe isnt too unrealistic of an idea right? thank u for reading :) im going through a bad time rn and ur work has been so comforting

Hello there ❤️ I hope life is treating you better, and it made me genuinely happy to read that you find comfort in my stories. Thank you for sharing that with me.

I love both of your ideas! But for tonight, I'm picking Sasuke with a kitten one. I have a soft spot for kitties and him. It's a deadly combination to my mind and also, I loooove to explore how gentle he is although he is emotionally constipated.

Sasuke and kitty

You brought a kitty home, and he was very against it at first. You two barely had time for yourselves between missions and fixing the things in the Uchiha district. A pet isn't just cute. It's more responsibility but when he saw you crying? Big eyes saying you couldn't just leave the cat alone after bringing him home and giving them hope? He couldn't bring himself to say no.

So he agreed to keep the little animal under one condition: he was entirely your responsibility. Food, vet visits, training, playing, cleaning after...All you (he was actually trying to make you give up but it didn't work).

Weeks passed. True to his word, Sasuke did not lift a finger. He even named it "Trouble" ;-; He barely looked in Trouble’s direction, acting as if the tiny creature didn’t exist in the household. But you saw the way he paused in the mornings when the kitten curled up in the window. How he left his office door cracked open just enough for a curious nose to sneak in.

One evening, you came home early from a mission. The house was quiet, the kind of peace that hinted someone had already settled in for the night.

You stepped silently down the hallway and paused just at the corner of the sitting room.

Sasuke was on the floor.

Trouble sat on his chest, tiny paws kneading gently into his shirt, purring like a tiny engine. Sasuke’s hands, so often weapons of precision and destruction, were now playfully nudging a little ball of yarn the cat was batting back at him.

He didn’t even look annoyed.

No, he was… smiling.

The soft kind. The kind no one ever saw.

Trouble crawled up and bopped Sasuke’s cheek with a paw. Sasuke let out a barely audible chuckle—a chuckle—and murmured, “You're a menace, just like her"

Your heart melted on the spot.

Of course, the moment he noticed you, his entire body stiffened. He carefully lifted the kitten off him and sat up as if you hadn’t just caught him.

“You’re home early.”

“Mmhmm.” You leaned on the doorway, trying to hide your grin. “You and Trouble seem to be getting along.”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “He got stuck in the shoji door. I had to get him out. He was… distressed.”

You blinked. “So you played with him for an hour? It looks like someone is falling in love”

“He is still your responsibility only”

You walked over and sat beside him. Trouble, sensing the perfect opportunity, promptly climbed onto your lap and curled into a ball of fur and sleep.

Sasuke gave the kitten a quick glance, then looked away.

“You’re allowed to like him, you know.”

“I don’t.”

You bumped his shoulder gently. “Right.”

He gave you a sideways look, then softened. “…Maybe he’s not entirely useless.”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his. Coming from him, that was huge praise.

“You're a softie, Sasuke.”

He scowled, but the corner of his lips betrayed him. “Don't push it.”

And somewhere between your laughter and the quiet purr of a cat finally safe and loved, Sasuke found that maybe… just maybe… some trouble was worth keeping around.

"We can't keep calling him Trouble, by the way," You say glaring at him because he was the one who stared it.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Fade + Omen with a cat radiant S/O

Words: 366

Both her and her prowlers are in absolute love.

Whenever you’re around they (Fade or the prowlers, take your pick.) can be found walking right behind you.

They 100% purr, which is reserved for only you and Hazal.

She cannot and will not sleep alone anymore.

Either she’ll stand right behind you while you finish whatever you’re doing, or she’ll just drag you back into bed.

Unconsciously fidgets with your ears and tail, whatever she can get her hands on at that moment.

Whether your fur is long or short, she can spend hours petting it. (If you don’t have fur she’ll smooth over the appendage instead.)

Won’t force the interactions between you and her own cats. (Praying that they like you.)

Gives you all the cat themed pet names, they are never ending. (Kedicik [kitten], furball/kıl yumağı [hairball])

Whenever she finds the dumbest little cat toys and treats they’re brought instantly. (Whatever you don’t use or eat goes to her cats and the prowlers.)

He’ll seek you out at anytime he needs to calm down.

This man gives the best head scratches – like goddamn, how and where did he learn that technique.?

If you purr around him (And in private) he might do his own version.

He won’t pet you if he hasn’t asked or you haven’t given permission, but is slowly getting more confident around it.

Assuming you play with wool or something similar, he’ll start silently teasing you about it. (This includes him throwing a ball of yarn across the room for you to chase.)

Go ahead and take up all the space on his bed with your weird sleeping poses, he won’t ever stop you.

Isn’t the biggest and most confident with petnames, but he might feel like throwing in one every so often.

If you happen to carry over the trait of ‘hating water,’ this leaves him as the one who has to deal with your tantrums.

Please make biscuits near this man!! Has and will put off nearly anything to watch you work!! (He’s so in love. <3)

Even if he loves you, you will be kept away from his knitting projects. (Doesn’t want risk his work being ruined.)

[dreamingdormouse]

I am harboring a THIEF in my house

but she's adorable so she never gets consequences

[image description: a video of me following a strand of tan yarn through my house from my knitting bag to my bathroom, where the thief in question prefers that I keep my yarn. She is shown in the video, an outrageously fluffy black cat. End ID]

That's not even the only yarn that was in the bathroom this morning! Just the only one that was ATTACHED to something, and therefore left a trail!

[image description: two balls of yarn, one grey and one white, on the counter by the bathtub. End ID]

She specifically is interested in animal fibers, unsurprisingly for a carnivore. She completely ignores cotton and linen yarns, and also ignores synthetics like acrylic. The tan yarn and grey yarn are both wool, and the white is ANGORA.

At least my little helper has good taste, that angora is very soft. And, thankfully, she doesn't chew on or kick around the yarns that she steals, just stashes them in my bathroom.

[moresims3productions]

The Arbor Apartments| San Sequoia | Free Download | No CC | Fully Furnished

This apartment took a while, I was mostly stumped on the layout and common areas but I think everything came out great. There are four apartments on this rental lot. 2-two bedrooms 2-baths and 2-one bedroom 1 baths, one of each on each floor.

All apartments are fully furnished but no so much that you can't delete what you don't want. I kept in mind the layout of the apartment as with apartments in real life you can't move the walls, counters, fixed-furnishings etc. LOL so I restricted myself to build as if that was the case.

I used alot of packs with this one but again if there is something that's not in your game it will be replaced by something similar. The shell should remain the same though.

Apartment Lore:

2201 - The place is pretty clean from top to bottom, you'd be surprised to know that anyone lives here. They say opposites attract but what happens when they start to pull apart? An introverted gamer and an experienced scuba diver? It's hard to say, she enjoys late night streams and he longs for the ocean. But what happens when he's suddenly swept into his work after a mysterious creature promises to lead him to the city in the sea? Will he take the dive and leave behind all he knows?

2202 - You'd think there's enough pink in here for the whole city but after spending years in Chestnut Ridge and after the death of her husband; she got tired of all the wood and wanted something more vibrant. She kept a few things from their old home in honor of him, including their cat Chester. Not a day goes by that she doesn't miss him but she finds solace in knitting and caring for Chester who just can't get enough of the balls of yarn.

3301 - Thankfully the couple downstairs don't mind the noise. This family has two very active kids who are home-schooled by their father, whom of which is a retired teacher. Their mother is a high profile business woman and spends late nights working and traveling from city to city closing deals. They hardly ever see her. Must be lonely raising two kids on his own. However, the kids seem to have taken a liking to the artist across the hall, as she gives them new arts & crafts to play with.

3302 - Art & tattoos? Count me in! This aspiring artist spends her days creating works of art when she's not in college. Some think it crazy to start as late as she did but she's determined after the life she's had to achieve her dream of owning her own shop and selling her art. San Sequoia seems like the perfect blend of city and suburb for her to attract customers from all ends.

Download:

T.O.U. - Do not reupload or claim as your own.

Gallery Download Search: RealMS3P OR MS3P

Alt Download: Here

[bk-4-trash-fire]

You know what time it is

SAGAU TIME

And as promised

STRAY THEMED

make sure to not spam my account please I don't want to block you

This will be if I'm deciding rn in two parts or more

This one is for the cat reader one, and the other will be the robot reader

Take this as a gift for 200 followers

BUT BACK TO THE CAT

For the sake of this, I will make a scene [story if you can call it that] of this idea.

Today is a beautiful day for you.

The sun is gleaming on your fur as you take your 5th nap of the day.

Ever since you released the world of robots from their dark sky prison, things have never been better.

Your friend momo was more than excited to see the world beyond the walls

You, on the other hand, like to stay and play around not really giving a fuck

Until a random person picks you up

That person being zhongli

An hour before this, Zhongli had thought he had cracked the code and could finally meet his beloved creator

Having the ritual set up, he was fully certain that this would work

Will he see a realm beyond his very imagination?

Will he see the true form of his creator?

WILL HE FINNALY SEE HOW CREATION IS DONE

.....I mean......technically he did..

What zhongli definitely didn't expect the world of the creator to be so.....

Trashy...

Buildings old and worn down

Some look like they are hanging by a thread

The floors are cracked, and with trash or rubble sprinkled around

The people here are just as weird

Mechanical metal robots walking around

Seemingly not noticing that their world looks like it took a bomb to the face

Just simply doing everyday activities

Laundry

A nice walk

A drink or two at a bar

AH, focus, remember why we are here..

The creator

That aura is unmistakable

Just keep following it, and you'll finally be content with-

Why the fuck is there a cat here?

This has to be a joke.

The ancient scripts say the creator is large, intimidating, and intelligent,

THIS IS JUST A CAT

Back to the present, zhongli is very confused more concerned about what he is looking at

This cat is his creator....

H O W ?

Back with the cat, you are just as confused about what's happening

Why is lizard man here?

And why is he squishing your face?

Let go of me, you peasant!

As you try and wiggle your way out of zhongli's grasp, he silently laughs as his creator looks like a golden caterpillar

When he finally releases you, he sighs and sits in a nearby chair, obviously confused of your form

"How can a cat be running an entire world?" The old man asks himself

You respond by bringing a crystal ball out of your back

The lizard man sees something extraordinary

Teyvat is within this ball!

Is this how you overlook them?

Then you start batting it around like a ball of yarn

Right, you are still a cat

The creator of teyvat is cat

This man needs a break

Let me know if you want more of this shit or not

Cuz i have an idea on wear to lead this

But I'm not a good writer so IDK

Hope yall have a good day :]

[fiapartridge]

hiiiiii !! i saw you write for beckett sennecke ! i love him he is so underrated !!! i was wondering if you could do some headcanons you have of him as a bf or something along those lines. if not, no worries ! i hope you have a really amazing day ! ily xoxo

beckett sennecke headcanons!! ⭐️🩰🪞💌🛁

💌 author's note: wait im literally obsessed with headcanons now i wanna do so many more LOL

bf!beckett is such passenger princess energy it's insane and he's ALWAYS on aux. like he'll literally fight for it.

also, he can only sit in the front or else he'll start complaining that there's either no space for his long ass legs or that he'll get car-sick and barf all over everyone lmfao

bf!beckett whoo buys you literally everything. like you don't even have to tell him you like something, like if you look at something for too long, he's already at the cash register buying it for you

bf!beckett who loves playing with ur hair. he's like a little cat with a ball of yarn. he tried braiding ur hair once and it just created a bunch of knots and he was TERRIFIED he was like "oh my god, babe. i think i just fucked up your hair."

bf!beckett who loves sharing updates on his day. like he'll be send pics of him and his teammates at a sandwich shop and be like "just ate the best sandwich of my life! we're coming here together next time!" or he'll be at a dog park and send a picture of all the dogs and be like "take your pick. i think i can steal one when they're not looking."

bf!beckett who calls you pookie in a teasing way because he knows how much you hate it. he says it the most in public because he likes to see ur cheeks turn pink.

bf!beckett who orders 3 entrees at restaurants and also eats the food you can't finish he's literally a human vacuum

bf!beckett who always shares his food with you even if it's his favorite. he just wants to share everything with you <3

bf!beckett who's drama is ur drama. like anytime he gets a piece of information and he has to swear not to tell a single soul, he always ends up telling you and it's technically not breaking the rules because you're basically an extension of him, so...

bf!beckett who is just the sweetest subconsciously. like he wont even realize he's doing things like pulling out your chair and carrying your bags and opening the car door for you. sometimes when you're at his apartment and he sees your cup is empty, he'll go refill it before you even ask. he just knows

bf!beckett who misses you all the time. even if it's just for a day, he'll start sending you texts about how much he misses you and your pretty face. roadies are the worst. he is always facetiming you and talking about you to his teammates, like "y/n would love this. let me send her a pic" or "what do you guys think y/n is doing right now?"

bf!beckett who gets your entire family gifts on their birthdays and christmas. even on valentines day, he'll get your mom some flowers and a note like "thanks for welcoming me into your family, mama l/n!"

bf!beckett who is super close with your younger siblings. like he loves playing video games with your little brother or playing tea party with your little sister. he'll even pretend to be a prince while your sister plays a princess. he'll be super into it to like calling her "your highness" and wearing a crown and cape.

bf!beckett who sends you a stupid meme every morning before you wake up. it'll be like a seal saying "top of the morning!" and you roll your eyes every time but you never want him to stop

bf!beckett who made you a playlist after your first date (which was at a diner and had one of those tiny juke boxes on the table. you chose "here comes the sun" and that was the first song he added to the playlist)

[jadewolf22]

Okay, I’d like to request something: Larissa x reader fluff, involving Larissa crocheting and a cat, please

Kittens and Crochet Needles

Larissa x GN!Reader

Warnings:None

Summary: A rainy evening at home with your favorite shapeshifter.

A/n: Thanks for the request! I think it was what I needed to get out of my writer’s block! 

Word Count: 656 words

“Oh, you gotta be shitting me.”

The weather in Vermont was as predictable as lightning strikes—in both a figurative, and literal sense. One minute, you’d been outside enjoying the sunshine while tending to your rose bushes—or rather, Larissa’s rose bushes that you always ended up taking care of—the next, you were sprinting back inside because the sky was throwing a tantrum. 

By the time you made it back inside your shirt and hair were soaked, there were streams of water running down your face, and your boots were caked in mud. You sighed, wiping the water from your face with the back of your hand as you kicked off your boots, leaving them on the mat by the door. Thunder shook the house as you made your way towards the living room, the wind screaming like a banshee. 

Entering the living room, you paused on the threshold, leaning up against the wall and simply staring at your girlfriend seated across the room.

Larissa was seated in your armchair, feet tucked beneath her, and a basket of yarn at her feet. When lightning flashed through the window, it cast a glow on her, illuminating the blue of her eyes and her silver hair, currently pulled up in a loose bun with a few loose strands falling around her face. She looked content, body relaxed and brows furrowed as she focussed on whatever new project she had started—Larissa had a habit of starting projects and never finishing them which made it hard to keep track of what exactly she was working on. It was rare to see her like this, so calm, so peaceful, and you were more than happy to just stand there and stare—

“Are you planning on saying something or were you just going to stand there and keep staring?” Larissa looked up, setting her crochet needles in her lap as she offered you a teasing smile.

You smirked, ignoring the light flush in your cheeks as you finally stepped into the living room, plopping down on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

“Didn’t wanna break your concentration.” you offered, smiling up at her.

Larissa chuckled, shaking her head as she picked up her needles again and went back to work. You laid down, stretching across the wooden floor in front of the fire like a cat.

Speaking of which—

“Really, Angel?!”

You sat up to see Angel, your three-month-old rescue kitten, rolling around in front of your armchair, playing with a ball of yarn that Larissa just happened to be using at the moment. Laughing, you grabbed the white furball, cradling Angel against your chest.

“Someone’s feeling playful.” you noted as the kitten squirmed in your grasp.

“Remind me again why I let you talk me into keeping her?” Larissa mumbled, reaching down to grab the yarn and place it back in the basket.

“Because she’s adorable. And because I’m highly persuasive.”

Larissa threw her head back and let out a sharp laugh. “You? Persuasive? Very funny, darling.”

“I got you to date me, didn’t I?” you shot back with a smile as Angle wiggled out of your lap, sauntering back over to Larissa and curling up in her yearn basket.

Larissa rolled her eyes, ignoring you as she returned her attention to the needles in her lap. Silence fell over the place like a warm blanket, broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder, crack from the fire, and the clicking of Larissa’s crochet needles, and you laid back down, hands tucked behind your head as you stared up at the ceiling. 

It was so rare that you had moments like this—where Larissa wasn’t buried knee-deep in paperwork and you were both at home at decent hours—and it always felt like time seemed to slow down. 

You closed your eyes with a quiet hum, allowing the gentle ambiance to lull you to sleep, content as a cat in front of the fire.

[beenbaanbuun]

kitty w/ wooyoung

i crochet in my spare time and i cannot get my mind off of how annoying cat hybrid wooyoung would be while you’re crocheting. he would not be able to keep his hands away from your balls of yarn, smirking to himself as he pushes them off the sofa and watches them unravel. he just shrugs when you tell him off, acting like it was an accident and you didn’t just see him batting at it with his hand.

but the problem with that is that once he’s pushed everything off of the sofa, there’s nothing more for him to play with. he’s not exactly going to get on the floor to play with the yarn—he may be part cat, but he still has human dignity—and he really can’t be bothered to tidy it all up so he can play with them on the sofa again. unfortunately for you, that means his only option is to play with the partially made blanket that sits in your hands.

he pokes it with a finger at first, just snickering at the glare you give him before reaching over and tugging at one of the corners. the sigh you let out is cute, as is the way you slam your hands down on your lap, frustrated at wooyoung’s constant need to disrupt your peaceful crating time. it only makes him want to annoy you more, loving the adorably way you lash out at him with your whiny voice and your pouty lips.

“wooyoung, i will banish you to your room if you don’t stop annoying me,” you watch as his smirk grows. annoying little brat, that’s what he is. it’s a good thing he’s cute, because the way he purses his lips and quirks his brows lets you know that he has absolutely no intention of behaving himself, “wooyoung, i’m warning you.”

“oh, you’re warning me, are you?” he giggles, a glint in his eye as his hand comes to rest atop the crocheted square in your lap. he kneads his palm against him, purring a little as he feels the soft yarn beneath the sensitive pads of his fingers, “you want me to be your good boy? sit here patiently while you ignore me for your pile of wool? i’m bored; i just want something to play with…”

“wooyoung, i—”

he cuts you off when he grabs your face, smushing your cheeks until your lips form a little pout. a cocky grin rests on his lips as he pulls your face in close. dangerously so, actually. you see the way his eyes sharpen, pupils transforming from their usual sparkling boba pearls into slits. as if that wasn’t enough to send shivers down your spine, he pulls his lips into a nasty sneer and runs his tongue along his top row of teeth. he pays extra attention to the sharp canines that will no doubt be used against you when your feline boyfriend finally decides to pounce.

“oh, little mouse,” you try and ignore the way his voice dips to a dangerous hum; a dark hiss, that sends electricity running down the length of your spine. you gulp down a whine, silencing yourself before wooyoung’s twitching ears can hear how weak he has you already, “be a good toy and let me play, won’t you?”

[wolverineluvr]

Yandere Satosugu x reader

TW: Gore, murder of a child(readers son), Geto and Gojo r unhinged, angst, age gap(reader is 25-35 and SatoSugu r like 18-19), Geto didn't defect, fem!reader.

You scream and cry as Satoru bats your son, Hikaru, around as though he's a ball of yarn and Satoru's a cat. "Please- I'm sorry!" You sob. Your stomach twists until there's nothing but a knot and turns as Hikaru falls to the floor with a thud and a weak call out for you. "It's all gonna be okay, don't worry. We'll give you a new kid real soon." Suguru coos into your ear. His arms are hooked under your armpits, forcing you to just stand and watch as Satoru grins and shuffles around in his pocket.

He fishes out a knife. "Sugu'...How should I finish him off? Knife, or unlimited void?" Satoru asks in a tone that indicates he's clearly proud of something. "Let's let her choose," Suguru responds and you can hear the smile on his face. "and you can't choose neither cus then we're just gonna do both, got it?"

You don't know what to do. What the fuck is an unlimited void anyways? "She's taking too long so I'm gonna give her a timer." Satoru sighs, but there's still that stupid grin on his face you wish you could wipe off his face. Satoru raises one of his hands, the fingers extended and he puts down one as he counts slowly, like he's not counting down for the death of your 6 year old son.

One.

You look down at the bloodied face of your child, his nose is bleeding and there's dirt on his cheek—his crying smudges the red blood and the dirt, making a small patch of mud along the way. Knife or unlimited void?

Two.

You look back up at Satoru—he's looming over Hikaru like a snake and a mouse—his eyes are gleaming with sick and twisted joy. He looks up at you, his expression asking you: the knife or unlimited void?

Three.

What do you choose? What if the plan with the knife is to give him an easy and quick death, stabbing Hikaru's brain or something like that? Would that even be an easy death? You don't know. What if the plan is to just cut him open while he's still alive and rip out his organs, or to just stab him over and over again? Knife or unlimited void?

Four.

What even is unlimited void? Is it the name of his car or gun or something? What does it mean? Is this even happening? It can't be, can it? It was just a normal day before all this, and now you're debating the better option of what your son should die from? And one of them is something you don't even know? Knife or unlimited void?

Five.

You can hear Satoru's voice becoming absolutely giddy as he sits on the back of Hikaru, making sure he stays in place as Hikaru weakly calls out for you again. You don't want to choose. You don't want to watch your son die. Why is this even happening? Knife or unlimited void?

Six.

Satoru puts down up one of the five down fingers, still counting. Suguru sighs behind you as he feels your heartbeat quicken and race like you're running a marathon, "you don't have to look" you hear Suguru murmur. But that doesn't help. Closing your eyes won't help. You'll still hear his cries and sobs for help. You'll still feel the insane guilt of doing nothing while your son is crying out for you. Knife or unlimited void?

Seven.

"I'll cover your ears" Suguru offers. You can't do anything but sob and continue to struggle in his grasp. He knows it's not your fault you had a kid. You didn't know you belonged to them yet. He presses a small kiss to the spot behind your ear, sending unpleasant shivers down your spine. But the same question is going through your mind, knife or unlimited void?

Eight.

You try to plead with Satoru, offering that you'll do anything for him to stop. He just shakes his head, though you notice a slight change in his face. He seems a little more..sorry. But he doesn't let up, still sitting on top of Hikaru's back and gripping the knife in his hands. Knife or unlimited void?

Nine.

You feel nauseous. This isn't real. It can't be. You don't know what to do. Why? Why? Why? You hate Satoru and Suguru with everything inside of you. ..Knife or unlimited void?

Ten.

Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or unlimited void? Knife or-

"Please.." You sob and Satoru just shakes his head. "Choose, now." Suguru demands into your ear. "K-knife.." Your voice is trembling as you speak, hoping, begging, praying, that the knife was the better option.

But as you watch Satoru sink the knife into the back of Hikaru's hand, you know that's not true. "Mom-my-" Hikaru weeps out, his voice weak and clearly in pain. "Oh, you're crying out to your mommy? That's too bad, 'cus your mom belongs to me and Suguru okay? She doesn't love you anymore." Satoru mockingly coos as he leans more down towards Hikaru's head.

Hikaru just cries and screams as Satoru takes the knife from his hand before getting off of him, turning Hikaru over and onto his back. Satoru quickly starts to stab Hikaru's stomach over and over and over and over and over again. His shrieks and wails are drowned out by your own. They don't say anything, but Suguru moves and wraps his arms around you in a hug like this is hurting him more than it hurts you.

"It's okay." Suguru murmurs into your ear, as you see Satoru take the knife out of Hikaru's limp body once more, before pulling up his shirt, revealing the many stab wounds in his small torso. He takes the top of the knife into Hikaru's chest and begins to cut a line down, making a rectangle from the middle of Hikaru's chest down to his abdomen.

Your wailing has stopped and now only weak weeps are escaping your wet lips as you watch Satoru rip off the skin of the rectangle he made in Hikaru's torso. His organs have been revealed and Satoru starts to dig through them, making his fingers and palms messy and bloody.

The wet and horrible noises of Satoru ripping out Hikaru's small intestines and setting them aside don't register in your ears, all you can hear is ringing. He continues to dig, taking out all of the organs that he doesn't want before maneuvering his hands up and swiftly ripping out Hikaru's heart. Satoru stands, picking up Hikaru's intestines and he begins to walk towards you. Your eyes and cheeks are wet with your tears, snot bubbling at your nose, all of the mucus makes it hard to breath through your nose, so your mouth is open.

You're shaking as Satoru stands in front of you, your vision blurry as you stare at the organs that belong to your son in Satoru's hands. And the tears start flowing again. Your voice cracks as you loudly wail, your throat sore from crying so much already.

"It's gonna be okay, don't worry. You'll forget allll about him. Right Sugu'?" He smiles as he looks away from your face and at Suguru's. The long haired man nods, smiling back as Satoru moves and puts Hikaru's intestines on Suguru's shoulders like a morbid necklace. He then moves and grabs your hands, pressing the heart of your little boy in-between them and wrapping his hands around yours.

"We'll give you all the kids you want."

Notes: Sorryyy I haven't been posting as much!!!! I haven't had much motivation to write but I am trying to expand the types of things I write <33

[theocddiaries]

Wade: How did it go with my dad last night? Did you guys have fun? Did he accept you? Logan: …Yeah, he kind of accepted me, but not in the way you wanted. He actually kissed me. Wade: Well, he’s fond of you. That’s good. He never kissed me when I was little. Logan: I hope not. Because he kissed me on the mouth. With passion. Wade: …Excuse me? Logan: And he said that you don’t actually like men. Wade [Jumps off the couch indignantly]: Excuse me?! Logan: That’s what bothers you the most about what I just told you? Wade: Are you fucking telling me that my dad tried to steal my boyfriend? This is the peak of family dysfunction. Logan: I think it was more of a heat-of-the-moment thing. We were in the darkroom, and he got carried away. Wade: And what the fuck were you doing in a darkroom? Looking for inspiration for that memoir you always talk about but never write? Logan: I was trying to stop him from doing something stupid. Wade: Maybe it would’ve been more effective if the stupid he wanted to do hadn’t followed him. Logan: Oh, screw you. You were the one who made me go with him to bond because you’ve got daddy issues that would make any reputable psychiatrist retire early. Wade: That's not the bonding I was referring to! I’m going to kill him. I’ll beat him to fucking death. Logan: Try to understand. He’s a confused, complex man. A mix of emotional emptiness, toxic masculinity, and repressed homosexuality. A sad ball of yarn no cat wants to play with. Wade: Okay, we’ll discuss this empathy for my father in bed like a healthy, normal couple. Logan: Fine. Before or after we talk about the fact that you're dating a guy older than you've been alive, and the similarities between me and your dad? Wade: Peanut, I told you we have to handle the perversions one at a time, or the pleasure becomes obligation and the magic dies.